#(Also in the list of things that get on my nerves no the spreading of the Gospel didn't hinge on one roman protecting the apostles)

[losttranslator]

like most Christian movies risen is cheesy and biblically dubious at times and gets loads of cultural stuff wrong for the sake of being recognizable to a primarily American audience but I'll readily admit the poor roman tribune's absolute bafflement at these religious weirdos who keep talking about love and stuff has me cackling unhingedly

Like, is it sound biblical doctrine and is it historical believable? No? Is it hilarious and do I enjoy seeing this random shmuck lose his mind going through what's essentially a very disturbing psychological thriller from his pov while the disciples are overflowing with joy? You bet??

The guy is dealing with horrifyingly decomposed dead bodies trying to find the right cadaver and previously sane soldiers going crazy and dead men being spotted alive and strange supernatural phenomena and angry gods and unexplained madness and religious fanatism spreading like a contagion, and meanwhile the disciples (and Jesus) are all like HELLO BROTHER WOULD YOU LIKE TO HEAR ABOUT THE BEST NEWS EVER :D :D :D

#Help my man Clavius he didn't ask for none of this #I gotta admit this is the first time in a while I've enjoyed any part of a Christian movie #even if most of it has me rolling my eyes and going “THAT'S not how it happened” #THE DISCIPLES WOULDN'T PRONOUNCE THE NAME OF GOD AND THE HOLY SHROUD IS BOGUS (for starters) #And there was no stranger - much less a roman - when Jesus appeared to the apostles #But I AM having fun with the tonal dissonance #Poor clavius is dreaming of blood and storms and his sanity is crumbling to dust and it feels like the end of the world #while to everyone who knows what's going on it's the single greatest thing that has ever happened and ever will #Risen 2016 #Resurrection #Bible movies #(Also in the list of things that get on my nerves no the spreading of the Gospel didn't hinge on one roman protecting the apostles) #(I hope they psychologically disturb that man some more he doesn't get to think he's that important) #(Centering a roman while getting some pretty basic stuff about Jewish culture wrong is also annoying) #(The beginning of the church are entirely and unambiguously JEWISH.) #(This character is like. 10 chapters too early.) #(Peter doesn't announce the Gospel to a roman until WELL after Jesus has ascended to heaven and even then it takes a direct order from God) #(And cornelius was already a follower of God and not pagan.) #(So Clavius just doesn't fit. And inserting a pagan guy as a witness to Jesus' most intimate moments with his disciples feels off) #The Gospel doesn't spill to the nations until God decrees it's time for it to happen. I don't like this romanisation #But again the first half of the movie had me laughing even though I could rant about its flaws for two hours

[b-o-e]

silly lil wally things :) Wally Darling x Reader

this is a list of my wally fics. these can be read as oneshots, although they are also written to be readable as a series, including specific nods towards prior fics and such. although it is not necessary, it is highly recommended to read them in the following order. enjoy!!

snorrrk mimimi - When you wake up in the morning, something is different…

paint me like one of your french girls - You weren’t the best painter, nor were you the best at picking up hints…

alone with you - You and Wally sneak away for a breath of fresh air, providing the perfect opportunity to try to get your feelings off your chest.

the plan - Wally, desperate to get you to pick up on his feelings for you, sits down to try and sort out a plan with his wingmen.

late night confessions - The phone ringing late at night allows opportunity to come knocking.

sleepy phone call - You find yourself unable to fall asleep, leading you to call Wally in the late hours of the night.

promise - Wally convinces you to sleep over for the night.

kiss farewell - After a night spent at Wally's, he walks you home.

town gossip - News spread quickly about you and Wally, but what actually are you?

first date - Wally asks you out in a date, but little does he know.

alone with you, take two - Jealousy isn’t a frequent feeling for Wally, but sometimes, things get on his nerves.

(done.)

these can also all be found on my ao3.

I have a ko-fi as well, if you would like to support me!!

thank you so much to everyone for your support on my works so far. i truly, deeply appreciate everything. it means the world to me, as do you <3 have a wonderful day!!

Posted Tuesday, May 9, 2023, at 10:16 PM

#wally darling x reader #wally x reader #wally darling #welcome home x reader #welcome home #i truly hope you all know how much you comments reblogs and likes mean to me :)) #i get so much joy from it #i have so much fun interacting with those of you who leave comments and asks as well :) you hold a special place in my heart <3 #i'm about to go through all my fics n fix some shtuff up #painnnn lol

[v3nusxsky]

i saw this tiktok where it said “i’m not arguing with a girl that manspreads, like whatever you say, handsome.” and it made me think of emily😵‍💫 so emily and reader are arguing but r gets distracted mid sentence once emily sits down and does that manspreading thing she does(it makes my brain go empty) and emily notices that there’s not a single thought behind r’s eyes and emily pulls r onto her lap and asks her what she was saying and if she really wanted to say what she was gonna say before emily thrusts her hips up and r notices that em is packing<3 just pure, pure smut! - 🐦

Daddy's handsome isn't she?18+

*Authors note~ Emily my love I need one chance with you*

Trigger warnings ~  packing strap on oral daddy Emily sub r manspreading praise degradation

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

Emily has the habit of manspreading, it's something you've always found attractive and addicting. You couldn't help but stare whenever she did it, dating a profiler had its set backs. She could pick up on your tales instantly, which meant in an argument she knew all she needed to do was simply manspread and your brain would falter and go empty. Which is how you found yourself in your current predicament.

Emily returned from her case, having been in a car crash and still continued to work the case, you were upset. Anything could've happened to her! Yet she seemed unfazed, reminding you it's all part of the job and she was okay. Truly she knew you were just scared but she knew she was okay. Physically a few cuts and bruises but she's had worse. But as her girlfriend she knew you'd panic, worry and need all the reassurance she could offer, that's why when this idea popped into her head she ran with it.

Moving her legs in the way she knew would make your brain empty she smirked and called for you effortlessly stopping your rant, "angel, I'm okay honestly. There's no need to argue" she murmured watching how your distracted brain tried to comprehend her words. "I'm not arguing with a woman who manspreads like whatever you say handsome!" Using the distraction she gripped on your hips and guided you to straddle her lap. "Emily! You can't just" your words cut off by Emily thrusting her hips upwards, your clothed core coming in contact with her bulge. How had you missed that she was packing? *What was you saying my angel? Or has my little cock slut gone all dumb because daddy needs her?"

Emily knew just what to say or do to drive you absolutely crazy with need and her packing was definitely on the top half of that list. "Daddy" you whined trying to rutt your hips downward to feel her once more. "Oh my little whore, do you need daddy? Want daddy to fuck your tight little cunt till you're begging daddy to stop?" Her words held the cockiness as well as the smirk plastered on her gorgeous face. "Please, please daddy fuck me" you whimpered becoming that slutty submissive Emily trained you to be. You'd do anything for Emily's strap and she knew it.

Effortlessly you were held so your legs wrapped around her waist as she carried you to the bedroom. "Be a good slut and strip for daddy, give me a show angel" she murmured before stripping also, laying on the bed with her legs spread and her hand stroking the fake cock. "Fuck angel! You're so damn sexy" she purred causing you to smile at the compliment. "Angel go get the vibe for daddy?" She murmured innocently to you as you scurried to find it. Upon finding it you came back to your girlfriend and she instructed you to place it on your clit while handing the remote to her. Once the dull vibrations began Emily had you lay on your stomach and suck her off, "that's it Angel, get daddy nice and wet so she can slide straight in your pretty pussy" she moaned to you as the strap began to rub against her bundle of nerves as you deep throated it.

"Oh fuck angel you have improved" she whimpered causing you to release the dick with a wet plop, "practicing for you daddy" you murmured before happily going back to sucking her off. It always amazed you how quickly you could get Emily off when she was fucking your mouth, with the vibe edging you and Emily coming you were in that addictive place between pain and pleasure. "Good girl angel, so fucking good for daddy. Such a whore. Wanna fuck you dumb" she mumbled pulling up to kiss her, hands fondling your boobs. "Please daddy please fuck me. Need to ride your cock" you whimpered desperately.

The vibe removed Emily added some lube to her faux dick before helping you sink onto it. "Oh fuck daddy so big" you mewled as your walls accommodated her. "Fuck angel, can't wait for you to bounce on my cock" she murmured bringing her mouth to your breast. The moment you began to ride her Emily thought she'd died and gone to heaven. Here you were bouncing on her dick, she could see your cunt devouring every inch of her as you whimpered and whined at the sensations it provided you.

With a surprised squeak your back hit the mattress as Emily entered your cunt once more, her thrusts more forceful and frequent as she pounded into you, "daddy's handsome isn't she angel? Tell daddy how good she looks using you like a common whore" she panted. "Daddy daddy fuck so good I cum? Need to" you mewled as she simply slipped your leg over her shoulder to hit a deeper angle. "Cum angel. Drench my dick in your cum. Make it drip down your thighs like a good girl" she murmured keeping up her rhythm. "Daddy daddy can't too much please" you whined only to be hushed by her hand resting on your stomach, thumb toying with your sensitive clit. "One more angel, one more for daddy. Want you to take my cum angel, wanna breed you baby. You'd like that huh? Breeding my good little whore, feeding my cum slut hmm?" She panted getting closer to the edge spurred on by her words and the sinful sounds you made.

You both fell over that edge together. Working your way back down, "angel?" She panted carefully slipping from your core, "baby?" You lulled your head to the side, blissfully fucked out of your mind,"mmm?" Was all you could manage in response. "Wanna say that again to daddy?" She murmured kissing your cheek and chuckling at your confused expression. "Poor baby daddy did a good job huh?" To which you nodded and outstretched your arms doing those little grabby hands often seen with toddlers. "Okay baby daddy's coming just need to clean my best girl up. You did so so good for me Angel. Daddy's so proud of her girl" she murmured to you quickly cleaning you and managing to curl back into bed ridding herself of the strap and holding you. Truly you looked breathtaking fucked out of your mind, the amount of love Emily held for you was something she never thought she was capable of. But with you anything was possible. Every goal, Emily would reach it with you by her side.

Word count~ 1238

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #🐦 anon #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss x reader smut #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #anon request

[autisticfreak]

bear with me because this post might not make total sense, more of a half-baked thought i had.

My boyfriend works in a dive bar and was telling me earlier this week that one of the two toilets in the women's bathroom was out of order, that the owner was dragging his feet about getting a plumber in to fix it because he wants to save money. He then goes on a rant about how dumb the boss is being, that all the women who come to the bar tend to gravitate towards and hang out in the bathroom, and that if they didn't have a functioning bathroom for women, women will stop coming.

I agree, and say, "yeah! women love bar bathrooms. they'll definitely stop coming if word spreads that the bathroom's out of order," but it got me thinking over the past week. You hear men joke about how women can't go to a public restroom without a girlfriend to bring along to chat with, or a group of girls to go with, and while men seem perplexed and pretend to not understand why this is, the answer is pretty obvious, isn't it?

Women love public female-only bathrooms BECAUSE they're sex segregated. We gravitate to the ladies room on nights out BECAUSE there's no men. BECAUSE it's a safe space away from the prying eyes of men. A place to chat and discuss things in private, a place to warn women if we notice a man being overbearing and too persistant, a place to speak frankly about stories we have about certain men in the club/bar in order to warn ladies who don't know. The only place in the bar where you can escape the eyes and advances of creepy men.

Why wouldn't women flock to the bathrooms? It's our only escape in bar scenarios to speak frankly with other women without the males overhearing. Yet men will claim it's silly for women to go in groups to the restroom, ignore the list of reasons why we do, and then also have the nerve to try and force businesses to make the women's room a unisex bathroom while the mens room remains untouched.

Once women's restrooms become unisex restrooms, which is already happening in certain businesses and schools and bars btw, you can absolutely guarantee many women will not feel comfortable going there, and therefore take their business elsewhere. Feminine men are not women. Gay men are not women. Sex segregated spaces are so important for women to feel safe, and to feel as though they have a safe place to escape, even if just for a few minutes.

The universal trope of women going to restrooms with their girl friends rather than alone is there for a reason. The lack of males and the privacy from males. Yet these worms-for-brains men can't think for more than ten seconds to realize this fact, and instead they act as though we women are just being gossiping, frivolous, self-centered babies who are incapable or too scared of just heading to the rest room alone.

#sorry if this is a rambled mess lol #mine #my additions #bathrooms #radfems do touch #radfems do interact #this migjt be obvious to eberyone but whem i had the realization it was a light bulb moment for sjre #long post

[ohnococo]

The Way To A Man’s Heart | Nanami x GN!Reader

You have a surprise for Nanami: a specially packed bento.

WC: 642 // SFW

You’re more nervous than you have any right to be. You can cook, and the little things you were packing away into the glossy wooden bento box on your counter were nothing too complicated. The presentation was maybe the most difficult part of it all, but you’d persisted nonetheless, and now you were sitting with a little bit of pride bubbling forth as you close the box and run your hand over the top.

But those nerves are at a rolling boil, eclipsing that pride, as you hear Nanami opening the door of your shared bedroom and padding down the hallway towards you.

“Why are you up so early?”

You turn to look at him, side-stepping so the freshly packed box is hidden behind you, and smile as you look at him. He rarely left the bedroom in such a state of disarray, always visiting the en-suite bathroom to tidy himself up first thing after waking, but with his mussed hair and one leg of his pyjamas bunched up high on his calf he’d clearly been concerned to not find you in your usual spot beside him in bed. 

“Just taking care of something.”

Such an answer would normally be enough for your partner, content to let you have your business to yourself when needed, but he hears the uncharacteristic jitter in your voice and comes closer, resting his hands on your waist and pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Something worrying?”

Before you can answer, his eyes lock onto the bento box over your shoulder, raising his brows curiously, “Is this that something?”

It was, and it was very much not being presented as the surprise you were hoping for. Nanami loved his food, with a thorough mental list of all of the nicest places in any areas he was frequently sent to for missions, having to rely on quick meals out instead of anything home cooked. He had particular tastes though, a discerning judge who would without mercy comment on a restaurant’s quality. You wanted it to be perfect, a home meal to ease his mind and send him along for the rest of his stressful day with a light heart and happy stomach. 

You also wanted him to enjoy it when you weren’t there to see in case it wasn’t up to his high standards. 

He’d seen it now though, quirking a brow as he gently moves you aside to look at it properly.

“I thought I’d pack you lunch… in case you didn’t have time to get yourself something.”

“Oh?” 

Even in the dim lighting of the kitchen, sun only just rising, you think you see the beginnings of a blush spreading across his cheeks. He places a hand on the lid, looking to you before he goes further, “May I?”

You shrug and nod, cat already out of the proverbial bag. 

He opens it, noting the contents fondly, leaning down and closing his eyes as he smells the small portion of stir fried marinated vegetables carefully separated from the small bun you’d secretly baked the previous evening after he was in bed. He even smiles as he looks at the selection of carefully cut fruits in their own separate compartments. 

He straightens, closing the box. Then he turns, beaming down at you as he places a crooked finger under your chin to tilt your face up to meet his eyes.

“You take such good care of me, darling.” His words are barely above a whisper, though they still manage to absolutely sparkle as they come from his lips. 

Nanami leans in, eyes soft and appreciative, looking absolutely dreamy before he brushes his lips against yours so gently it’s as if he’s only barely touched you. “Thank you…”

Then, he’s pulling back, and clearing his throat. “Now let me brush my teeth so I can kiss you properly.”

#my writing #vday event #nanami #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk fanfic #reader insert #self insert

[angelltheninth]

Kingmaker

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough oral, scratching, biting, overstimulation, clit stimulation, throne sex, semi-public sex, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation and name-calling, porn without plot, submissive Reader, Leona is rough but also with a hint of sweetness

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: By now I don't think it's a secret that I love Leona to bits. I'm not gonna lie I lowkey hope he sounds similar to Kovu in the eng dub, don't judge me. The prompt for this one was 'power imbalance' with Leona. For more of my 5k event fics you can go to my wholesome version or to me darker version of the lists.

You'd heard stories of the ruthless King Leona. When you first came into the throne room and he'd ordered everyone to leave, you could definitely see the hint of that sharp nature of his. But his face, his eyes, they weren't cruel, they were hungry.

When he told you to step closer, you found yourself mesmerized by his voice, they way he sat on his throne, his vest open and showing his abs, his biceps, his head casually leaning on his hand, "Come closer, let me have a good look my new handmaiden." Even his voice was enticing.

The only thing that was ruthless about him was the pace at which his mouth and tongue currently worked between your legs.

"Put your legs on my shoulders beautiful, let me really get in there." His voice vibrated though you, hands tangled in his wild mane of hair, his sharp nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

"My-my King! We shouldn't be doing this." You most definitely should be getting pleasure from your King's tongue probing and prodding your inner walls. You shouldn't lift your legs on his shoulders and bring him closer to you. You shouldn't be sitting on his throne, moaning as loudly as you were.

"Says who? Certainly not me. And is my word not law to you?" Your voice faltered before you could respond properly, trailing into a wonton whimper as he moved his head back and forth between your legs, "Tell me to stop then. Say you don't me to make you come and I'll stop. Do you want me to stop?"

At the very thought of him stopping now that you were so close your body revolted. Your thighs pressed tight around his head, "...No. Please don't stop, not yet." Heat flushed down your cheeks, the embarrassment only adding to the high pitch of your voice.

That fact only seemed to add to Leona's resolve, "Here I thought you were supposed to serve me, and here you are, panties on the floor, your bra tossed aside, your beautiful face hot with lust and shame, and loving every fucking second of your King taking what's his. Tell you what sweetheart, if you can come for me right now, I won't just make you my handmaiden, I'll make you my personal slut. I'll fuck you every night. Would you like that sweetheart?"

You could see it clearly in your head. Helping Leona with his daily duties during the day, and falling naked into his bed at night. Having to sneak around to not get caught, hiding the marks he leaves in you, yet relishing in them. Screaming his name in the safety of his bedroom while keeping your voice low whenever you have sex during the day, his hand over your mouth to help muffle your whimpers, his mouth hungry on yours before he lets you scream your pleasure out.

There was no holding back your orgasm, your hand clamping over your mouth, tears running down your face from the overstimulation you were experiencing at his hands.

"Good girl." His mischievous look sends further shivers down your spine, or maybe it was his tongue, still slick from you, licking up to your throbbing, pulsing clit, tapping and circling your the stiff bundle of nerves, "You'll keep my bed, and my cock, nice and warm from now."

You whimpered as he licked your clit again, this time pushing his head away, "Too much."

"What was that? Too much?" Leona leans his chin on your inner thigh spreading your slick as he gives you the cockiest grin you've ever seen before turning his head, his fangs scraping over your skin, "That won't do at all." You hissed in pain, Leona's fangs pressing into your thigh leaving behind a not at all subtle bite mark, "I see you need a little bit of stamina training."

"T-Training? What do you mean?" Leona rose from between your legs, pushing you further back, slotting his hips between your legs.

"I think you're smart enough to guess." His hand unbuckled his belt, undoing it just enough so he can slide his pants and underwear below his ass. Your eyes locked on the tip of his cock, a bead of thick cum pearling at the very top. "And I think, judging by that orgasm, that you're more than ready for my cock. You better hold on to me okay? Because I'm not gonna be gentle."

You gulp but despite his words find yourself drawing him closer and closer until you can comfortable wrap your arms around his shoulders. His lips move over your neck, slow and hot, unlike his cock which he pushes in all in one go.

The stretch wasn't that painful due to your arousal, plus the slick made it easier for him to move, to back up until only his tip is left in you. You only had but a taste of him, but your pussy already wants more, clinging onto his cock and wanting to draw him in deep once more.

Leona's hands held your hips still as he bottomed out again, "You're a little tight. Haven't had a cock like mine before huh? I'll make sure you get used to it soon. Just relax for me."

"I'm sorry." You apologized on instinct, eyes shutting tight.

"No need for that." His next kiss was surprisingly gentle, as was his thrust, calculated and slow, drawing out a shaky sigh from your lips, loosening you up.

Every thrust came with the addition spark of pleasure. It wasn't long until Leona started to hammer his hips against yours.

"That my good slut. Taking it so well for me." A wanton moan tears from your throat as he presses closer to you, "You sound delightful when you're getting fucked. I'm going to have so much fun with you sweetheart."

Your walls tighten around his cock, your nails run down his arms, bracing around his forearms as you arch your back further into him, the swell of your breast pressing against his muscular chest.

"Gonna come? Look at me. Look at your King while come from his cock." Leona's pace doubled, grunting, his eyes locked on yours, hungry and wild.

Your cunt clenched around him, fast like a spark of lightning. His smile was downright smug. Knowing that he drove you to this state, made you spread your legs in his throne room, craving his cock, making you let go so completely, he couldn't hold back either. Not anymore.

His hands tightened on your shaking hips, his pace getting more forceful, desperate, and almost a blur as his full balls finally emptied his cum deep into your womb, filling you up until his cum dripped from you.

Cupping the back of your head he hugged your close, kissing away your tears.

"You did well, I'm so proud of you." He rolled his hips a few more times, getting the last drops of cum out before he pulled out, his eyes locked on your cunt, swollen and so full of his seed that it spilled onto the throne room floor. "Hmm, next time we do it here I gotta remember to bring a towel with me. But don't worry, it's not like anything's gonna happen to you because of this. Especially because you're mine now, no one's gonna dare to even look at you wrong."

"I-Thank you my King." Leona tilted his head before chuckling, and bringing you into a deep kiss. He still tasted like you.

"You're my new handmaiden. It's my job to make sure you're content as well." His smile as as bright as the sun, "Speaking off, we should go wash up. Make sure you don't let too much of my cum drip down your thighs too much." The growl in his voice sent another bolt of arousal coursing through your body.

"Yes, my King." You had a feeling you'd be speaking those words a lot more in the future.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar smut #twisted wonderland smut #twst smut #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst leona

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Mise en Place, Chapter 2

Pairing: Chef!Matt Murdock x F!Journalist!Reader

Rating: M

Story Summary: Follows the development of Chef!Matt & Reader's relationship after the events of Cooking Up Love.

Story Warnings/Tags: Hallmark levels of fluffy, cheesy goodness, no use of Y/N, Matt is not a vigilante, developing relationship, things gone get SPICY later 🔥 (aka smut in future chapters), more tags to come as the story progresses

Chapter Word Count: ~2500

A/N: Hope everyone enjoys Chef Matt & Reader's first official date! 🥰

Divider by @theradioactivespidergwen

Tag List: @danzer8705 @capylore @shouldbestudying41

Matt ran through his mental checklist as he waited for you to arrive. Okay, table is set, wine is open and breathing, salad dressing is made, garlic bread is warming in the oven, pasta is ready to boil, sauce is finished, chicken is ready… Should I have lit some candles? 

He was contemplating changing his shirt when he heard a car slow down to a stop in front of his building. She's here.

He heard you thank your cab driver and shut the door, then take a deep breath before you walked inside Matt's apartment building. 

Matt waited until you had made your way upstairs before heading to answer the door, resisting the urge to just throw it open before you had even reached his apartment.

He took a deep breath of his own as you knocked. Here we go.

He opened the door, the slight uptick in your heartbeat surprisingly calming his own nerves somewhat. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you replied. 

Matt moved out of the doorway. “Come on in.”

He waited as you stepped inside then closed the door behind you. 

You wrapped your arms around him in a hug. “How are you?”

Matt briefly tucked his face into your neck as he hugged you back. “I'm good,” he replied. “How was the rest of your day?”

You gave him a quick squeeze before stepping back. “It was good. I stayed busy, made some notes for my next assignment. How was yours?”

“Mine was good too. I went to the market then started prepping everything for dinner tonight.”

You hummed. “It smells amazing in here, by the way.”

Matt smiled. “Thanks. And actually, everything is ready if you're ready to eat.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Great.” Matt held a hand out to you. “Then follow me.”

You took his hand and he led you up the stairs to the roof. “I figured since it was fairly warm tonight we could have dinner up here.”

You let out a light gasp as the two of you stepped out onto the roof. “Matt, this is beautiful.”

Matt grinned. Foggy had helped him set everything up -- they had put twinkle lights up around the perimeter of the rooftop and had spruced up the space with unused decorations from the restaurant in an effort to make the space look romantic and date-like. “I'm glad you like it.”

He led you to the table he had set for the two of you and pulled your chair out for you. “Here, have a seat.”

After you were seated, he poured you each a glass of wine and set the bottle back on the table. “Give me just a second to go get our salads.”

“Okay.”

Matt ran downstairs and put the pasta to boil, then plated your salads before bringing them back upstairs. 

He set yours in front of you. “Okay, here you go.”

“Thank you.”

Matt sat across from you. “So, what's your next article about?”

“It's about the need for donations to Clinton Church’s food bank,” you replied.

A smile spread across Matt's face. “Really?”

“Mmhmm. I met with Father Lantom last Monday for an interview about the various programs the church offers and he mentioned that the food pantry had been running low, so I decided to focus my article on that -- although I am still mentioning the other programs, of course. After all, winter is right around the corner so there's going to be a greater need for coat donations really soon.” 

Aha, Matt thought. So that was the errand that Father Lantom had been on when Matt had gone to get his culinary supplies from the church.

You took a sip of wine before continuing. “My coworkers and I are also setting up a donation drive at work. Along with my article next Monday we'll be publishing a list of items that are needed and placing donation boxes in the lobby of the Bulletin ’s office building, then the following Monday my boss and I are going to go deliver all of the donated goods to Clinton Church along with a monetary donation from the newspaper to help fill in whatever they're still short on.”

“That's a wonderful gesture.”

There was a slight rustle of fabric as you shrugged. “Getting to volunteer with you at the church’s soup kitchen made me want to raise more awareness for people in need, so why not use the platform I’ve been given access to in order to do so?” 

Matt shook his head. He couldn't believe he had ever thought you were anything like how that Kelsie woman had depicted you. “You're amazing, you know that?”

“You're the amazing one. Getting to know you these past couple of weeks…” You paused. “You are genuinely one of the most interesting people I've ever interviewed and I'm really happy to have met you.”

Matt smiled. “I'm really happy to have met you too. And I'm sorry once again for everything.”

“No, it's okay. It was a misunderstanding, but at least we were able to resolve it, right?”

Matt nodded. “Thank you for forgiving me.”

“Of course.” You took a bite of your salad and made an appreciative sound. “Oh, wow. I'm assuming you made this dressing, right?” 

Matt nodded. “Yeah.”

“I can tell. This is way better than the store-bought stuff.”

The two of you finished your salads, then Matt took your empty plates back down and placed them in his sink so he could finish plating the chicken parmesan.

He spooned a bit of marinara sauce on top of each chicken breast, then grated some fresh mozzarella cheese over them before sticking the pan back into the oven to broil for a minute and melt the cheese while he plated the now-cooked pasta and extra sauce.

He took the chicken out of the oven and plated each one, adding a sprinkle of fresh basil along with a piece of homemade garlic bread on the side. Perfect.

He carried the plates upstairs and set them onto the table. “Alright, dinner is served.”

He sat and waited as you took a bite.

“Oh my gosh, this is so good,” you said after you had chewed and swallowed. 

Matt let out a relieved breath. “I'm glad you like it.”

“Mmm.” You took another bite. “Definitely.”

The two of you continued talking even after you had finished your dinner, the hours passing like minutes with the comfort the two of you felt with each other.

“I was thinking we'd have dessert downstairs if that's alright with you,” Matt eventually said as he stood and gathered your plates, utensils, and wine glasses. “I can't finish making it until it's ready to serve and rather than make you wait up here I figured we could just eat it down there.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” you replied as you also stood. “Here, let me help you pick the rest of this stuff up.”

Matt shook his head. “No, that's okay, I'll take care of the table stuff later.”

You took the wine glasses from him. “At least let me get these for you.”

Matt opened his mouth to protest again but closed it when you adjusted the wine glasses to carry them in one hand and linked the fingers of your free hand in Matt's now-free one. “Okay,” he said instead.

The two of you walked back downstairs, Matt hoping that the rest of the evening turned out just as well as the beginning had.

To your slight disappointment, Matt let go of your hand once the two of you reached the bottom of the stairs back in his apartment.

He took the wine glasses back from you and nodded over towards the barstools by his kitchen island. “You can have a seat if you want.”

You sat and watched as he set the dirty dishes in his sink then went to his refrigerator, pulling out a metal bowl covered with cling wrap and a carton of heavy cream and setting them on the island in front of you. “Ooh, what's this?”

Matt took a measuring cup out of a drawer and measured out some cream before pouring it into the mixing bowl that was already set up on the island and turning his mixer on. “Chocolate mousse. I can't do the last few steps until I'm actually ready to serve it, so in hindsight I probably should've made something else for dessert so you wouldn't have to be sitting here waiting for me to finish making it.”

You shook your head. “No, it's totally okay. I like watching you cook, even if it just means watching you whip cream in a mixer.”

Matt tilted his head up towards you. “Yeah?”

You nodded. Matt 's ex must not've liked having to wait. “Yeah.”

A smile spread across Matt's face. “Well then you're in luck, because after I whip the cream you also get to watch me mix it into the chocolate.”

You let out a light laugh. “Ooh, exciting.”

Matt's smile morphed into a grin. “Very. Oh by the way, I wasn't sure what drink pairing you'd prefer with dessert so I got several different options, including chai and both regular and decaf coffee in case you didn't want more wine or any extra caffeine than what's already in the chocolate.”

Your heart warmed at Matt's thoughtfulness. “Whichever one you think goes best with it is fine with me.”

Matt nodded. “Chocovine it is then.”

He took two cordial glasses out of a cabinet and gave them a quick rinse, then took what looked like a wine bottle full of chocolate milk out of the wine fridge on his counter.

He poured a bit into each glass and handed one to you before turning the mixer off and testing the consistency of the whipped cream with a spatula.

You watched as Matt nodded in satisfaction then carefully folded all but a few scoops of whipped cream into the bowl of chocolate, your eyes firmly on his biceps as they flexed under his shirt with each rotation of the spatula.

Matt grabbed a couple of cocktail glasses and layered some chocolate mousse into them before topping each one with more whipped cream and fresh chocolate shavings.

He put a small tasting spoon into each one and slid yours over to you. “Dessert is served.”

“Thank you.” You took a bite and let out a pleased moan, the freshly whipped cream tempering the subtle bitterness of the dark chocolate Matt had used. “Ohmigod, Matt, this is heavenly. Totally worth waiting for.”

Matt took a bite of his own dessert. “I’m glad.”

He nodded over at your cordial glass. “Try it with the Chocovine.”

You picked up your glass and took a sip, your eyebrows raising in surprise at the bittersweetness. “What exactly is in this?”

Matt chuckled. “It's red wine that's been mixed with milk chocolate.”

“Ah, okay, it's good. I can definitely see why you'd pair it with chocolate mousse.” You took another bite of your dessert. “It gives it a bit of sweetness without being overpowering.”

Matt nodded. “Exactly. There's several different varieties, but the original goes best with this particular dessert.”

He gestured to his face. “Uh, you have a little…”

“Oh.” You wiped at your mouth. “Did I get it?”

Matt shook his head and walked around the island to you.

He gently cupped your chin in his hand and caressed the corner of your mouth with his thumb before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.

You froze for half a second before relaxing into the kiss, the subtle taste of chocolate on Matt's lips making you smile against his mouth.

Matt caressed your cheek as the two of you parted. “I think we got it.”

You huffed out a light laugh. “You think so, huh?”

Your brow furrowed as a realization struck you. “Hey, wait, how'd you even know I had chocolate mousse on my face?”

Matt suddenly looked bashful. “Oh, uh, actually I didn't, I just wanted an excuse to kiss you.”

You smiled and shook your head. As suave and flirty as Matt was, sometimes he was just adorably cute. “You know, you don't need an excuse.”

Matt bit his lip. “I don't?”

You shook your head. “No.”

“Well in that case…” Matt cupped your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours again.

You wrapped your arms around him, your head swimming pleasantly as he deepened the kiss.

You felt like you could spend forever kissing Matt but unfortunately air because a necessity, so eventually the two of you parted once again.

Matt leaned his forehead to yours as the two of you caught your breaths. “I thought about this,” he murmured. “Last Sunday, while you were here for dinner.”

You leaned back to look at him. “Really?”

“Mmhmm. I thought about telling you how I feel about you, holding you in my arms…” Matt reached up and gently ran his thumb across your kiss-swollen lips. “... getting to  kiss you.”

You smiled. “Mmm. And did the real thing measure up to your expectations?”

Matt shook his head and gave you one more soft kiss. “It was even better.”

You sighed happily. “I'm glad.”

A small smirk appeared on Matt's face. “You know, that offer to work out a deal to be your private chef still stands.”

You huffed out a laugh. “In that case I might actually have to take you up on it.”

Matt shook his head, his expression becoming more serious. “Seriously though, I definitely want to keep seeing you, if that's okay.”

Your heart picked up slightly at Matt's confession. “Yeah, I'd really like that.”

You looked towards the window as the distant bells of Clinton Church chimed the hour, surprised to realize that it was already 11 PM. “It's getting late though. I should probably go.”

“Oh.” Matt looked disappointed. “Right, yeah, I'm sure you have an early morning at the paper.”

You hesitated briefly. “Would you, um, would you mind walking me home though? Like I said, it is getting late and cabs are pretty scarce at this time…”

Matt shook his head, a smile spreading across his face once again. “No, not at all. Give me just a second to make sure everything's off.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

You grabbed your purse and waited as Matt double-checked to make sure his stove and oven were off before gathering his keys and cane.

“Okay,” he said as he unfolded his cane. “All set.”

He locked his apartment door then took your hand in his as the two of you headed down the hall towards the elevator.

Too soon, the two of you were back at your apartment.

“Thank you for dinner, Matt,” you said as you stopped just outside your building. “I had a wonderful time tonight.”

Matt nodded. “I had a wonderful time too.”

You leaned up and gave Matt a soft kiss. “And thank you for walking me home.”

Matt smiled. “It was my pleasure. Can I call you tomorrow?”

You nodded. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Great. I'll talk to you then.”

“Okay. Good night.”

“Good night.”

You headed inside, smiling softly to yourself. You couldn't wait for your next date with Matt.

#lotmf writes #mise en place masterlist #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #Chef Matt Murdock x Reader

[just-wrting]

Game Night

Title: Game Night

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: You invite the team over for a game night, but a wonderful little accident leads to your boss, and crush, confessing to you.

Word Count: 1938

Master List

A/N: This is mainly self-indulgent. There are many little details about me here that I figured would appeal to a kid so I wrote them in. I really just want soft stuff right now. Also yes, this was a little rushed but I was in the zone so.

You knock on Hotch’s office door. “Hey, you got a sec?”

He looks up from his paperwork and sets his pen down. “Sure. Was there something you needed?”

Glancing at the floor, you start to lose your nerve to ask. “Sort of. I was thinking the team could get together for a game night at my place. I’ve got pizza coupons, too many board games, and a large selection of music. Everyone else besides J.J. will be there.”

For a moment, you think he gets nervous. The blank look he gives you when you ask, makes you think he might be a little nervous, but you know better. He’s just not used to getting asked to do things that aren’t work or taking care of his son.

“Yeah, yeah sure,” he responds almost mumbling the first word. “That sounds like fun. What time should I be there?”

You look at your watch. “Does six thirty work? That’ll let me tidy up and order the pizza after I’m done here.”

“Six thirty is perfect. I’ll see you then.”

You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face before you turn and go back to your desk. Emily leans against it as she waits for you to come back. Everyone else is already looking forward to it and you are ecstatic.

“So is the man of your dreams coming to this little party?” Her voice is teasing.

You sit down and nod. “Oh yes, he is. I expect you all to get there by six thirty as well you know.”

Derek leans back in his chair. “Oh well, I can’t make it. I’m actually going to this concert. Super famous singer and super expensive tickets.”

“Oh really? Such a famous person that you forgot that you got tickets for? Well, it can’t be helped since it was so expensive. You plan on sending me pictures though right? Just to prove that this isn’t you trying to set me up?”

Derek feigns hurt. His hand rests on his chest, he closes his eyes, and he looks away from you. His very obvious attempt to get you alone with Hotch has been spotted and he knows it. That’s not going to stop him from pulling out the theatrics.

“Since you have caught my very well-hidden lie, I suppose six-thirty at your house it is. You sure have your way of making sure people don’t back down.”

Emily laughs as she gets off your desk. “I think (Y/N) just wouldn’t stand for being tricked into such a position.”

“You’ve got that right, Emily. I will also be ruling my apartment with the same iron fist.”

—

The time officially hits six-thirty, and you start to get nervous. Hotch is the last person to come. He’s usually the first person in meetings. Even Derek, who joked about not coming, was early at a crisp six o’five to help you set the food up in the kitchen.

Suddenly there’s a knock on your door. You stride over as quick as you can to swing it open. There stands a frazzled Hotch and a nervous-looking Jack.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find someone to watch him on such short notice. I should’ve called.”

You step back to allow them in. “It’s not that big of a deal. I don’t keep much alcohol and have plenty of music and games he can pick from. And if he doesn’t want to play a game, I do in fact own a TV.”

He looks so relieved and for a moment you let yourself think about handsome he is with a smile. A shake of your head clears those thoughts out and you close the door behind them. Now is not the time to be thinking like that. You have company besides him.

“So Jack, do you want to come pick out a game?” You lean your head to the side. “I’ve got plenty of games for you to choose from.”

Within seconds, Jack seems to light up. He looks up at his dad before responding to you. You know how much Jack likes to be around his dad and how much he admires him.

“I’d really like that, agent (Y/N). Where are they?”

The way he looks at you makes your heart melt. Both of the Hotchner boys are absolutely adorable and you worry that having both of them here will lead to you admitting how you feel.

“I keep them stored in my closet since there's not enough space in the cabinet I have in the living room. As long as you don’t touch anything else in the room you can just follow me.”

Hotch looks like he wants to follow along, but he opts to start putting together plates for himself and Jack. Jack seems content to just follow you down the short hallway towards the bedroom.

Your cat, Pancake, glances up as you swing the bedroom door open. Jack walks closer to the cream-colored cat, before turning to look at you. You know what he wants to ask before he even opens his mouth.

“Pancake is friendly. He won’t bite unless you try to go for his tail. He’s probably just tired since I took him for a walk after I got home.”

You give Jack a moment to pet the feline. You know he doesn’t have pets and you don’t know what you would do if you didn’t have any either. Kids usually like having a pet and you know you certainly did at his age.

“Well, the games are right here in this bin. The bigger one I mean. The smaller one just has the Pokemon cards I’ve collected. You and your dad can come over again if you ever want to look at them.”

Jack looks like he might burst from excitement at the thought of looking through them. In fact, he’s so excited he can barely pick a singular game, leading you to bring four of them with you to the living room.

“Dad! (Y/N) is so cool! And they have a cat named Pancake and he let me pet him,” Jack yells in enthusiasm while he runs up to Hotch. “And they said I can come and look at their Pokemon cards whenever I want!”

You feel your face heat up and start to fumble with your words. “It’s not that big of a deal. He just wanted to pet the cat and look through the cards. I figured it would be better to save that for another time.”

Rossi gives you a wink. “I’m sure Aaron would love to bring Jack over again sometime, right Aaron?”

Hotch gives a soft smile towards Jack. “Whatever he wants. As long as that’s okay with you, (Y/N). You don’t have to do what he wants just cause he’s a kid. Or just because he’s my kid.”

Everyone is looking at the two of you, and you can’t help but get even more flustered. If only you don’t think Jack is a super cute kid. You wouldn’t be in this mess.

“Like I said it’s not a big deal. You’re welcome to come by whenever you, I mean he, wants to.”

—

It’s already been three hours since game night started. The pizza boxes are empty, save for the grease that coats the cardboards, and there are half-full glasses of soda on every surface. Reid and Rossi are playing some limited edition chess set in the corner, and Derek is in a deep discussion with Hotch.

You feel Jack’s head land on your arm as he falls asleep. No one else seems to notice and for a minute you wonder if you should cut this Friday night short so Jack can get some rest. None of the team seems like they’ll be wrapping up soon though so you devise another plan.

You gently scoop the boy up and make your way to the bedroom. If he wants to sleep, then sleep he shall. You know Pancake will love the cuddle buddy, and you figure that it will let Hotch have some free time to relax.

“I can take him home if this is an issue.”

You shake your head. By now, you’ve got Jack all situated on the bed. All you have to do is convince the cat to get off the spare blanket so you can cover him.

“It’s not an issue. If it was I would’ve told you already.” You give Hotch a soft smile in the dim light. “No sense in having just the two of you leave.”

He rubs the back of his neck and sighs. “I’m sorry. I should’ve realized it was his bedtime.”

You step closer to him and put your hand on his arm. “No really. I mean it. You and Jack will never be an issue to me. He’s important to me. And probably the whole team too.”

For a moment, you and Hotch stand in silence. You can’t bring yourself to say anything. Either you’ll say something silly, or you’ll ruin whatever peace has settled between the two of you. So you choose to listen to the soft laughter of everyone out there.

“(Y/N)?” The way Hotch says your voice is gentle.

You don’t respond only properly looking up at him. Even in the dim glow of the lamp, he looks handsome. There’s a sort of shyness about him in this moment, and you feel your heart skip a beat when he looks at you.

“Can I tell you something? Something important?” he asks softly.

You nod. “Yeah. You can tell me anything. Is something wrong?”

“No. No nothing’s wrong. I just,” he takes a deep breath while explaining, “have this feeling. And right now I think I know what this feeling has been all along.”

There’s a pause while he searches for the right words. His hand makes its way to brush a stray strand from your forehead, and you can feel his handshake. He’s nervous about something and you can’t take the suspense anymore.

“What sort of feeling, Aaron?”

With that question, you watch his resolve crumble. “(Y/N), I like you. I know it's awkward, and even a little weird, but I really do like you. And not just as a person. Seeing the way you were with Jack just, it just made me realize how badly I do.”

You reach out and cup the side of his face. You run your thumb across his cheek and lean in towards him. His breath is warm on your skin, and you get goosebumps across your arms.

Within seconds, you feel his lips on yours. It’s nothing more than a peck, but you still feel him linger. Lingering like if you let him, he’d kiss you breathless. You know you would let him. He most likely doesn’t know that.

“Aaron, can I tell you something then?”

His response is nothing more than a whisper of a yes that ghosts across your face. His breath is slow and deep like he’s doing his best to not hold it in.

“I’ve been waiting for you to do that for months. I think you were the last person in the team to realize that.” You giggle. “Don’t feel too bad about that though cause I think I was second to last at knowing that I liked you.”

You press your lips to his once more, and you can feel him smile as you kiss. For a moment, nothing else exists in the world but the two of you, and you want nothing more than to keep it that way. Just you and Aaron stuck in a kiss.

#reader insert #criminal minds #aaron hotch #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotchner #criminal minds aaron hotch #criminal minds Jack

[suhjihanma]

☩ 𝕯𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕸𝖊 ☩

☩ Kink (7) : Rimming / Pr-state Play ☩ Word count: 714 words ☩ Pairing: Toji Fushiguro / Female ! Reader Content Warning: Rimming, pr-state play, lot of ass eating, submission play, teasing, dirty talk, Toji loves being submissive. ☩ Author's Note: Minors and kink shamers DNI. Also, why isn't there a lot of submissive Toji? I wrote this on a tipsy binge and I might had too much fun with this. It feels like I've gotten lazy with kinktober but. work has been kicking my butt lately, man. The master list for all of my stories is listed on my blog. Reblogs, likes, mainly reblogs and likes are appreciated. Also, I need to study for my entrance exams soon.

You can't get enough of him.

Lapping away carefully across salted muscle, you thank yourself for having a man whose body was familiar with submission.Once fully adopting of dominant tendencies, persuasion was brought out as you wanted to try something new in the bedroom. It wasn’t as if the four walls of intimacy became dull, rather; it became of piqued interest in that lustful mind of yours. Trying out new activities was a normalcy in spicing up your relationship. Then again, with a skeptical mind of Toji, you knew that activities such as this would be more of an encouragement on his part. 

“Your ass tastes amazing, baby. It’s even getting all wet and needy for me, too. Fuck.” 

Muffled words were being met by a man too drunk to be eaten out from.

Still, you didn’t expect the man to be spilling out randomness of curses and endless moans. What’s even more bothering is the fact that he was in a position so vulnerable that the familiar pool between your legs grew to become more wet to your tightly closed legs. With just a little bit of playfully teasing his body, to the well-formed muscles, along to the sensitive calves, Toji presented himself on all fours, begging for the next lick or suckle. Head lowered to the floor, panting, crossing with the sounds of sucking that came from your lips, to his ass high in the air as both of your hands were spreading both muscles apart, massaging them ever so gently with your nimble hands. 

You wanted to take things slow. Seeing how this is all new to Toji, you didn’t want to press any more limits than necessary. As you were continuing to gently lap around the tightened muscle, you prodded around the opening with the tip of your tongue. The search of wanting more of his taste awakened hunger as you carefully brought one finger and slightly pressed down at the entrance. Not wanting harm done, your digit slowly went inside, saliva given as aid. 

Toji realized what was going on and before he boasted out a line of protests, a dragged out moan escaped from the lips touching the floor. He wondered how long he could keep up with your torture. As long as he coats the floor white, or as long as you keep fucking him with your tongue? Whatever possible outcome may occur, Toji knows certainly that he won’t last long in this unforgiving state. 

His hips were noticeably rutting against the rhythm of your fingers, and you couldn’t help but to place a small kiss on his ass. Encouraging his behavior, you continued to let himself fuck your fingers before he lets out another dragged moan. You looked over at Toji’s fallen head as your fingers started to probe deeply inside him, reaching a firm yet soft sponge-like surface. Gently massaging the area with the top surface of your finger. It’s almost as if you might have hit a nerve inside the poor man. Toji’s head turned to the side, meeting your face with an unpleasant grimace. He didn’t seem to be in pain yet it could be overlapping with the sense of pleasure from the sensitive organ. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck. Trying to milk my prostate, too?” He questions you, moans in between thrusts. 

“Why not? Is it wrong of me to fuck my man with my fingers?” Your tone of voice now suddenly goes in a moan as you continue to work your soft fingers inside his firm walls, back slowly beginning to arch as each nerve was stimulated from the brushes. 

A strong expression of content spread across your face before your fingers gently massage the sensitive organ that made him cry out in pleasure. His hips bucked continuously as his breathing grew to be more labored. The sense of being vulnerable was starting to rot from Toji’s mind. Everything became too much, yet you knew he was loving every minute of his sex getting played with. With every muffled cry or cuss, you knew he wasn’t going to last that long. 

Even you questioned yourself as to why he hasn’t come yet.

Still, it was good enough that the cries from him were making you want to taste every bit of nectar that secreted from this man. 

#jjk #jujustu kaisen #fanfic #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu toji #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji jjk #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #toji zenin #toji x y/n #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji x you #suhjihanma kinktober

[skyewritesstuff]

cruel summer (kenny's version)

my masterlist.

entry 4 in my (taylor’s version) songfic series.

summary: a detailed account of your summer fling with kenny mccormick.

pairing: kenny mccormick x reader (college!au kinda)

fandom: south park

warnings:  implied nsfw. substance use (alc/weed/nic). language. vomiting.

notes: based on cruel summer by taylor swift. this was not beta read. we die like kenny.

word count: 7.9k

It all started and ended in Kenny McCormick’s rundown, single cab pickup truck. It was summer time and Kenny’s main friend group had all separated for this one lone week despite everyone being home from college. Stan was still on the outskirts of town at Tegridy Farms. Eric had been dragged out of state to visit family. Kyle was in Denver doing a week-long intensive course. 

Kenny was in community college, about to wrap up an associates in computer sciences, a few classes short of graduation. He was also working full-time at the local Best Buy doing tech support, but somehow he’d managed to have three days off in a row towards the end of the week. However, this had to be the worst time for him to have next-to-nothing to do.

You were in Marjorine’s bathroom, standing over her as she sat on the toilet, pink dye that was scented like lemon drop candy was coating the ends of her naturally blonde hair when your phone rang.

“Marj, can you see who that is and let me decide whether or not I”m gonna get you to answer that?”

The blonde girl laughed, “Sure thing!”

She grabbed your phone and looked at the screen, “It’s Kenny!”

“Kenny McCormick?” 

You said that like there was any other Kenny in your hometown. There was no confusion in your question, though, just a slight bit of disbelief. You’d had feelings for Kenny since high school that’d been a long-kept secret for various reasons. First, you thought Marjorine liked him, but apparently not. In reality, Marjorine is just a helpless romantic who has a slight attraction to all of her friends, you included. Then, he ended up in a weird situationship with Tammy Mullins and then “cheated” on Tammy Mullins with his ex, Tammy Warner, if you can even cheat on a fuckbuddy. 

Kenny didn’t have the most savory reputation in South Park when it came to women. He was a flirt who made it known to everyone how much he liked the ladies and with his charm and rugged looks, he oftentimes was able to pull any girl that he fed the right line to. You felt like it was pointless to pursue him, because you’d inevitably get your heartbroken and look like an idiot much like Tammy Mullins when she attempted to beat the ever living shit out of Tammy Warner for the aforementioned incident. 

“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Marjorine spoke in a sing-song voice that let you know that she was highly anticipating overhearing this conversation.

You rolled your eyes, “Go ahead.”

Marjorine swiped the answer bar, “Well hi, Ken!”

“Hi, Barbie!” Kenny didn’t miss a beat, a chuckle to his voice, “Where’s Y/N?”

“I’m right here. What’s up, Kenny?” You spoke, distracting your nerves by finishing up Marjorine’s hair and making sure that the color was evenly spread with meticulous attention to detail.

“Just wanted to see if you ladies wanted to chill at Stark’s Pond later. The guys are all out of town doing fuck knows what and I have like...three days off of work and I’ve already bored myself to death.”

“You mean to tell me you’ve already gotten bored with jacking off and hitting up girls on Snap? Are you feeling okay, bud?” You said with a smirk, eliciting a gasp at your language from the blonde sitting underneath you.

“Ha ha…hilarious. I haven’t jacked it at all today. I’m waiting to see you in a bikini at the pond so I can have that mental image to cross that off my list.”

“Cute.”

“Gross, Ken!”

He chuckled again, “Are you guys coming or what?”

You looked at Marjorine and she looked at you. Before you could contemplate a response, she replied for you, “We’ll be there! Does 3:00 work?”

You shot her a look and she grinned mischievously. “Yeah, for sure. You make sure to look cute too, Marj. I’ve got a lot of free time coming up.” You could hear his smirk through the phone, earning him another eye roll.

“Oh shut it, Kenny. We’ll see you later.” 

“Okay! Love you guys, bye!”

“Love you too!” Marjorine replied, hanging up the phone and looking over her shoulder at you with a smile.

“I hate you.”

“Nuh uh.”

“I’m going to drown you when I rinse you.”

“Oh, hamburgers.”

A few hours later, you were in your room putting on high waisted black bikini bottoms with a black and white striped top as you were trying to call Marjorine to determine whether or not the suit was too modest or just right. You’d called several times, but she still wasn’t answering. You turned your attention to your hair, putting it in two braids, when you finally heard your ringtone.

“Hey, are you okay? I tried calling like a hundred times.” You spoke over speaker phone, starting on your other braid.

“Yeah, I suppose I’m alright…well, a little anyway.” She sounded sad. You’d be willing to bet the $500 sitting in your savings account that you knew where this conversation was going. 

“What happened?” 

“Well, you see, my dad was real sore about my hair. He said it made me look cheap and…”

“You’re grounded…”

“Yeah…”

You sighed, “Marj, we’re twenty. Your dad can’t ground you forever.” 

She sighed back, “I know…I keep hoping that maybe he’ll stop the older I get, but really, I’m getting older everyday and he’s not stopping!”

You groaned, flopping back on your bed, “So, I’m just going to go hang out with Kenny alone…”

“You say that like you haven’t wanted to date him since we were in high school.” Marjorine said, a smile clearly perking up on her face. You could tell by her tone.

“Yeah, but like..” You tried to start replying back.

“But nothing! Go and have a good time!” she said, “And use protection!”

���Marjorine!” You gasped, shaking your head at her response.

“I’m just saying.” She replied. Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door.

“Marjorine, are you on your phone?!” Her father’s voice boomed.

“No, dad…I’m just…uh…talking to myself!” She replied back nervously. You could hear her father barking out orders at her to stay quiet and to think about what she’d done. Quickly, she wished you luck and ended the call.

You looked at your phone, noticing it was almost time for you to leave and decided that you would start gathering your things so that you could go. Once you arrived, you immediately noticed Kenny’s truck. It was an older model with rusted parts, chipped paint, and numerous crude and comedic stickers littering both the back glass and the door to the bed.

Part of you wanted him to not show up. Sure, you’d been harboring a crush on Kenny, but to think you’d be able to pull him? There was no way. He liked girls with big boobs, curves, full lips, and gorgeous skin. Compared to those girls, you just felt normal, like there was nothing special about you. You’d been told you were beautiful, funny, and smart, but going after Kenny still felt futile.

You parked next to his truck and then got out, walking towards the pond with your bag in hand. You soon noticed the blonde boy laying on a tattered quilt blanket. He was wearing only orange swim trunks and a pair of aviator sunglasses. His head turned toward you and he did a double take, tossing his hand up to greet you.

You walked over and sat your bag down next to the blanket. Kenny let out a soft wolf-whistle. “Baby, baby, baby…” He said, “I thought the view of the pond was beautiful, but you’ve got it beat.”

You rolled your eyes, sitting down on the blanket. “You’re full of it, Ken.” you said. He chuckled, shaking his head, “I’m just observing.”

“Uh huh…”

“Where’s Marj?” 

“Grounded”

“Shit…I mean, that sucks, but hey…” He turned on his side to look at you, “At least we get some time just you and me, right?”

Your chest tightened and you took a deep breath, “Mhmmm…”

“So…you seeing anyone?”

You rolled your eyes again. He was always so flirty with everyone. This was his baseline. You had to keep this at the front of your mind and just roll with his advances and play along with the game he was initiating. 

You shook your head, taking out your sunscreen. You twisted the nozzle so that it would spray and went over your arms, chest, and legs. Kenny held his hand out and you handed the bottle to him, expecting him to apply a coat to his already tanned skin. Instead, he sat up and slid behind you and sprayed your back.

“What are you…?” You lost your train of thought as he reached up and started gently rubbing it into your back.

Your breath hitched in your throat, “U-Uh…it’s…it’s touch free…”

“Oh?” He said. You could hear the smirk in his voice, “I didn’t read the bottle.” He leaned in closer to you until his breath was on your ear, “My bad…”

A shiver ran down your spine and he laughed under his breath again, moving back to the blanket. “So, why’d Clyde say he’d been talking to you if you’re single, then?”

“Because he’s full of shit.” 

It was a plain reply to the question because that was the honest truth. Clyde tended to be a bit of an attention seeker and this kind of behavior was a norm with him almost as much as being flirtatious was to Kenny. 

“Interesting…” Kenny laughed, “I think you should take that up with him.”

“It’s not that serious.” You laughed, laying back on the blanket, turning your head to look at him.

“I think you should tell him that you’re not talking to him because you’re talking to me.”

“Lie to end a lie?”

“Doesn’t have to be a lie.”

“You’re something else, you know that, right?”

The small talk and banter between the two of you went on for what felt like minutes, but upon looking at the clock on your lockscreen, you found out it’d been hours. The sun was starting to set and the two of you were the last people remaining at the pond.

“We should go get food.” You suggested, gesturing towards him with his sunglasses that you were holding, having taken them from him hours ago upon realizing that yours had been left in Marjorine’s car days ago.

“Or we could skinny dip and then get food.” He retorted, shrugging as if he didn’t ask you to get naked in public with him.

“You’re insane.”

“Some people would find that hot, you know?”

“Pretty sure skinny dipping is illegal.”

“No guts, no glory…plus, our police force is a joke. I think we’ll be fine.”

“You think.”

Kenny got up from the blanket and started down to the water. He turned towards you and smirked. “I know…” He then jumped into the water, making a large splash that landed on the blanket and your legs.

He re-emerged only seconds later and held his swim trunks over his head. “Kenny!” You gasped.

“Yes?” His smile was absolutely devious. You got up and walked to the edge of the water only for him to pull his hand back and send his swim trunks launching towards you, only landing on your feet due to the weight of the water in the fabric.

You couldn’t think of anything else to say so you just crossed your arms over your chest and watched the blonde who was currently smiling so widely you could finally see the small gap in his smile from his missing tooth. You had to admit…the colors and lighting of the sunset mixed with the beads of water rolling down his shoulders and his wet hair…If Kenny was anything, it was beautiful.

“Take a picture sweetheart, it’ll last longer.” You’d gotten caught. You took a hard swallow, choosing not to respond to his comment. “Man, this water is getting cold…it’d be nice if someone else would join me so I could suck up their body heat.”

He couldn’t be that desperate. You sighed, “Okay…okay…”

You jumped in, resurfacing right in front of him moments later. He grinned playfully. “Lucky me.” He closed the gap between you two, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing your body in close to him.

“You are ridiculous.” You tried to sound stern, but you couldn’t help but form a smile at his reaction to your presence. He seemed genuinely happy to have you in the water with him with your bodies so close together…but of course he does. It’s Kenny. Something like this is his idea of paradise. You were brought back to your thoughts earlier about Kenny’s baseline and his affinity for the ladies.

“You still with me?” he asked, noticing how your thoughts had drifted from your current position to the depths of your mind. You turned your attention back to him, “Yeah, I was just…thinking…”

“Bout what?” he asked, reaching up to play with the end of your hair delicately, 

“You”

“Me? Huh, it really is my lucky day, isn’t it?”

“Who says it’s good?”

“Well, damn, the thought didn’t cross my mind, but I guess you’re right.” He chuckled.

He leaned in, his lips curved up in a smirk as he leaned in in an attempt to kiss you. You reached up with two fingers and pressed them to his lips to stop him. He pulled back and laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re naked in a pond with me right now…I don’t think that should be our first kiss.”

“So, you’re telling me that if I put my clothes back on, you’d kiss me?” 

“We’ll see…”

“I never thought I’d want to get my clothes back on with you instead of staying naked.” he said.

A few minutes later, Kenny was redressed and you’d dried off and put the t-shirt he’d come to the pond in over your suit. It was now fully dark, the only light coming from his headlights after he’d turned the car on. 

“So…where do you wanna go for food?” he asked, leaning against the car. You shrugged and stood beside him, leaning your back against the vehicle as well. “I”m up for anything, really. I’m not picky. Anything beats frozen waffles for the fourth time this week.”

“McDonald’s?” You questioned, earning a nod in response from the blonde.

“Before we go, though…you said that if we weren’t naked and in the pond you’d kiss me.”

You let out a deep breath from your nose and looked at him, not responding, but raising both eyebrows questioning him ever so slightly.

“So…can we?” He grinned.

“Why do you want to kiss me anyway? You can have your pick of any girl in South Park…or have you just blown through all of your options over the years and I’m the last girl on the list?” You questioned, “It’s not like you’ve actively tried pursuing me before. Why now?”

Kenny looked taken aback by your question, “I…” He paused, as if trying to gather his thoughts. You must’ve honestly thrown him a curveball he was never expecting. “I don’t know…guess I thought you’d never go for me. You’re kind of too good for me. At least, that’s what Marj says.”

“Marj? What’d she say?”

“Oh, I told her I wanted to ask you out like…Christmastime-ish…and she was like ‘Nah, she’s too smart and too good for you. She won’t put up with your shit.’ and one night, after smoking a blunt, I thought some more about it and realized that she’s probably right and that you’re not going to put up with my shit and that even though you’re totally one of the most gorgeous girls I’ve ever seen I…”

You cut him off by leaning in to kiss his lips. He smiled against your lips and instantly kissed back, moving over you to lean you even further back against the hood of his truck, resting both arms on each side of your head until one hand slid down and came to rest on your hip, hooking his finger into your belt loop to pull you in closer. You kept kissing him, letting your hands slide down his bare chest, a shiver running down your spine at the small moan that left his lips as your hands moved. Finally, you had to pull back to catch your breath.

You took a second, just looking at him, your E/C eyes staring into his baby blues. Then, you spoke up, “I'm still not putting up with your shit, though.” You both laughed in response and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Makes sense.” He said, leaning in to kiss you again. The kiss once again turned heated, you locking a leg around his waist and his hands traveling past the hem of his shirt that you were wearing to caress the slightly exposed skin of your abdomen and then move to your back, reaching up to play with the tie on your bathing suit. You stopped him, putting a hand up to his arm to get his attention.

“Shit…” He shook his head, “I”m sorry, I–”

“Don’t apologize.” You began, “I just think it’d be a little more private in the truck.”

That’s how you found yourself on your back in the cramped single cab of Kenny’s truck for the first time that summer. His lips were traveling down your body and your chest was rising and falling at a rapidly increasing pace the further he maneuvered himself downward. You glanced down at him and met his eyes as he looked up at you, his fingers hooked themselves in the sides of your swimsuit bottoms. He shifted his position a little as he was still partially standing outside of the truck. 

You could barely make out his features in the dim overhead light of the truck, but you could notice how his eyes were a deeper shade of blue than earlier. His face was flushed, his shaggy mullet was even messier from the presence of your hands, and he was wearing a shit-eating grin that looked absolutely devious, but you could’ve sworn you’d never seen anything more attractive and enticing in your life.

“G-Go ahead…”

From that point forward, any nights off you both shared were spent in either his bed, the backseat of your car, or the bed of his truck. You remembered recalling the first two weeks to Marjorine after finally deciding that things were stable enough to share with at least your best friend.

You didn’t notice that she was about to take a sip of her can of soda when you casually stated “Kenny and I are like…seeing each other…well, if fucking counts as seeing each other.” Marjorine promptly started coughing, the bright green can of Mountain Dew coming back to the carpet of her floor as she tried to regain her composure. 

“Excuse me, what?”

Despite the harsh way that you would describe your encounters with the blonde, the affairs themselves were anything but. Kenny was nothing but a gentleman to you, always asking if you were alright, taking care of you afterwards, and only getting rougher with your permission. Even then, he’d talk you through it, ensuring you felt safe and comfortable no matter what. It didn’t take too long into your “relationship” for the crush you’d been harboring for years to evolve into full feelings.

Your kisses became more passionate and more frequent. Your touches became more forward and increased in frequency as well. As far as you could tell, Kenny was eating it up and taking it all in and there was no doubt in your mind that he absolutely felt the same. After consulting with Marjorine one night, you decided to finally ask Kenny the burning question.

“What are we?”

You didn’t expect the question to hang in the air the way that it did. You were sitting up in your bed, knees pulled into your chest wearing only his t-shirt and a pair of panties. Kenny was redressing himself after Cartman disrupted the nap you two had been taking by blowing up his phone, asking him to help him with some ridiculous scheme since Marjorine wasn’t answering her phone.

He turned back to you looking like a deer in the headlights. “What do you mean?” he asked as if the question wasn’t clear cut as is. You let out a mild sigh of frustration. Kenny wasn’t stupid by any means. Despite the rumors, you’d see his grades when he’d log on and check them and he was able to hack into just about any video game to make mods to fit any desire he may have during gameplay. 

“Are we like…together, or?”

“Like…dating?” He was buttoning up the tacky orange Hawaiian shirt he’d been wearing, completely missing a button, obviously jarred by this conversation.

“I mean, yeah.” It came out like a question when it was definitely a statement. 

He leaned against your dresser, sliding on his slip on Vans, “I mean…I don’t know.” He shrugged, “We do like…everything couples do…but I hadn’t put much thought into it.”

“You haven’t put much thought into it?” You repeated, dumbfounded at this response. He’d started saying something else, but it sounded like white noise to your ears and you quickly cut him off, “You’ve had a month and a half of spending many nights a week balls deep in me and you haven’t taken a single second to think ‘Hey, would I actually like to date this person or am I just wasting both of our time and fucking them until something better comes along?’”

Kenny really looked shocked now. Somewhere in your rant, he’d started re-buttoning his shirt, but he stopped midway when you started talking and was now looking at you with both sides of the shirt in his hand and his eyes blown wide in shock. He finally let go of the shirt to run his hands over his face.

“Y/N…”

“Kenny, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me…”

“What…like…I just…I don’t know and Marj has been asking me the same thing and like…I haven’t even told anyone, if I'm honest.”

“Kenny what the fuck!?” Your voice was getting louder, “Why am I some secret of yours? Is it so you can go around and fuck other girls like you’d been doing? I told you, I”m not putting up with your bullshit.”

“Oh my god…” He groaned, throwing his head back, “Listen, it’s not like that. I just…I don’t know. That’s it. I don’t know.”

Tears were welling up in your eyes, “Just get out, Kenny.”

“But…”

“Go.”

He shrugged and let out a sigh, “Okay…fine. See you around.”

As soon as you could hear the tell-tale aged, loud roar of his truck’s engine, you dissolved into tears. You pulled his shirt over your head and threw it at the wall, burying yourself under your covers as your tears turned into full sobs. How could you have been so stupid? Everything you’d ever heard about him was true and Marjorine was right. You deserved better than him.

Weeks had passed since your breakup, if you could even call it that, with Kenny. You hadn’t spoken to him since and made sure to avoid him at all costs. You were not about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he’d hurt you.

 It was now nearing the middle of August and the now-annual college send-off party at Tegridy Farms was rolling around signaling the end of summer and the parting of ways of all of your childhood friends that happened at this time of year.

“I still don’t want to go.” You said plainly, looking at your reflection in the mirror that hung from your bedroom door.

“It’s a tradition, Y/N and we always have fun! Remember last year when Mr. Marsh got on the karaoke machine and started singing Nicki Minaj and blacked out and broke the coffee table right before the best part of the song?” Marjorine stated, touching up her black eyeliner.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s a good spot to people watch. Maybe Clyde will get shitfaced again and end up screaming and crying for Bebe to take him back and then throw up in the yard, still crying.” You chuckled.

“See, that just makes me sad. He loves her so much and she just uses that boy whenever she wants something because he’s got money.” Marjorine glanced over at you, “Clyde’s got man written by a woman energy.”

You chuckled, “Marj, just because he’s kinda got a dad bod at 20, is sensitive, and is a male Swiftie doesn’t mean that he’s written by a woman. He killed his mom because he wouldn’t put the toilet seat down. That’s giving Mojo Dojo Casa House.”

“Ken was written by a woman, though!”

Not realizing she was following up your reference, you scoffed, “Oh, he most definitely is not. He’s written by some middle aged man that thinks shock value and sex jokes are still funny at their big-old-age.” 

“No, he’s not! Ken is just a himbo! He…” She paused and then realized what you’d said, “Oh…oh hamburgers…not the same Ken. I’m sorry.”

You realize what you’d said too, “My bad. I just…whew…I had a whole response to that. I’m so sorry, Marj.”

“It’s fine…and I agree. All of the broship were written by men of different ages…except Kyle…”

You stopped applying mascara to think about what she’d said and then nodded, “Sheila Brovlofski is the greatest author of our generation.”

The music was already blaring from inside when you pulled up to Tegridgy farms. Once you got out of your car, you could already smell the weed pouring outside. Typical party at Tegridgy. You reached into the pocket of your denim jacket and pulled out your vape, taking a few hits to calm your nerves. You knew, without a doubt, that you’d be running into Kenny tonight, and you weren’t sure how to handle it.

As you both approached the door, you knew you had to make up your mind sooner rather than later as to how you were going to handle this. In true fight, flight, or freeze nature, you could either avoid him at all costs, turn away and ignore him if he approaches you, or just freeze up and end up talking to him like nothing was wrong…and at this point, there was no telling as to what you’d choose.

You walked inside with your hands in your pockets, looking around to scope out the general area. There was a makeshift dance floor where multiple of your peers were either dancing or standing around, two tables of beer pong, and then the kitchen where the counters were littered with various alcohol bottles and almost artistic looking bongs.

You headed over to the counter and took a hold of the ingredients to make one of the only drinks you could confidently make for yourself: a tequila sunrise. You made yourself a double and Marjorine a single and handed it to her. “Aw, shucks, I really shouldn’t…you know how much of a light weight I am.” she said, staring into the cup, “Last time was bad…”

You chuckled, “It wasn’t that bad. You just called Eric sexy in front of a bunch of people which isn’t necessarily like…morally wrong or bad…just questionable and objectively incorrect.” You took a large sip of your drink, trying to get the alcohol to kick in as quickly as possible in case of an inevitable emergency and to drown the still lingering sorrows from that day in your bedroom.

Within the first hour of being there, you’d drank the double tequila sunrise you’d made for yourself, taken an old fashioned that Tolkien was preparing for multiple people, and had been consistently refilling your red cup with the jungle juice someone (Kenny) had prepared and put into several empty milk cartons of all things. Now, you were currently positioned at a bright green and black bong, taking a hit before passing it to one of the goth kids. Michael? Pete? Did it really matter? No, as long as it wasn’t Kenny.

You got up, fully preparing to just stride out of the kitchen and go find Marjorine but found out oh too quickly that you were too inebriated to stand up that quickly. You stumbled, vision a little blurry and your entire body feeling fuzzy.

“You okay?” The goth kid got up and leaned against his cane, extending his hand to you.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m so good. I’m great, actually.” You blew him off, grabbing your cup and taking another sip as you stumbled off towards the living room where the couches and dance floor were. You flopped down on the couch next to a boy you were actually quite familiar with. His shaggy, dark hair was peeking out of his blue and yellow chullo and he was cutting his eyes over at you almost cautiously, as if he were afraid of you doing something.

“Hey Craig!” You slurred, leaning over onto him.

“Hey, Y/N.” His voice was as monotone as ever and he kept looking around and then over at you.

“Where’s Tweek?” You asked, reaching up to play with the side of his chullo as you put your legs into his lap. The brunette took a deep breath to gain his composure, “He got a little anxious so he’s outside smoking with Bebe. Do you need something?”

“Nuh uh…I'm so good!” You said, inching closer to him.

“Uh huh…sure you are.” His eyes stayed forward despite your close proximity to his face.

“You’re so hot, you know that right?” You said.

He fully turned to you, face burning red, riddled with shock. He was about to respond, when all of a sudden a flash of an orange hoodie dropped down on the arm of the couch next to him.

“Craig Tucker, what’s up, dude?”

“Ugh, not this guy.” Your tone shifted and your lack of filter continued.

“I know…you’re mad at me, sweetheart…but I promise, you’re going to be madder at yourself in the morning.” he laughed and then looked at Craig, “Swap with me.”

Craig muttered something. You only caught, “Good luck” as he got up and reached into his pocket, taking out a box of cigarettes as he headed towards the back porch.

“Get away from me.”

“I'm not trying anything. I’m just trying to keep you safe, because you’re kinda getting messy. I’ve been there, done that…and I just don’t want you to end up trying to fuck Cartman too.”

“I wasn’t trying to fuck, Craig! You’re such a fucking idiot!”

“Babe, relax. I was talking about Marj…New Years Eve.” He leaned his head back on the back of the couch, looking over at you. You could tell that despite his ability to hold a consistent conversation, his eyes were bloodshot. He’d most likely been smoking.

“You okay?” he asked, his tone turning more serious and soft.

“I”m fine.” You took your phone out of your pocket and attempted to unlock it, or so you thought, until Kenny reached over and snatched the phone away, pressing some buttons before sliding it in his pocket.

“Hey, give that back!”

“Babygirl, you were about to summon the pigs. Randy would’ve shit his pants.” he chuckled, “Pretty sure that’s a dead giveaway that you’re not okay.”

“This is a weed farm, not like an actual farm. There’s no pigs.”

Kenny laughed rather loudly, “You are absolutely right, baby. That it is. Thanks to me.”

“Stop calling me that.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest, “And give me my fucking phone back!”

He shook his head, “Can’t do that…either of those things, actually.”

“Fine.” You stood up and walked off. It must’ve taken Kenny a moment to process, because you got a little bit of a head start before he caught up with you in a hallway, where you stumbled slightly and then ended up leaning against the wall. 

You were dizzy and your body felt both light and heavy all at once. You wrapped your arms around yourself, craving some kind of pressure. You started to slide down the wall when you felt someone’s hand on your arm, following you down until you were both on the floor with whoever it was’ arms wrapped around you giving you the physical touch you’d been desiring.

“I’ve got you. You’re fine.”

You groaned. Of course, it was Kenny. You wanted to pull away, but instead you flopped over onto him, laying your head on his shoulder. He gently trailed his fingers down your bare arm, your jacket long since missing in the chaos of the party. 

“You just sleepy or do you feel like you’re going to be sick or something?” he asked softly. You shook your head, “No. Where’s my fucking vape?”

Kenny chuckled lowly, “I don’t know, babe. Did you bring it in with you?”

You nodded, wrapping an arm around his middle, “My jacket.”

“You’re not wearing a jacket.”

“I am.”

“You definitely aren’t. You’re wearing a sparkly pink dress.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your exposed shoulder, “See, no jacket.”

You let out a whimper of disgust before Kenny reached into his pocket and handed you a hunter green colored vape pen, “It’s not your peach mango whatever the fuck that shit you smoke is, but…”

“Ugh, it’s menthol. Just give it to me.”

“How’d you remember that?” 

You shrugged and took a long hit, holding it for a moment before exhaling. You handed the pen back to him and watched as several people walked by, barely missing stepping on you or tripping over your feet. Kenny took notice of this and started to stand, helping you up along the way.

“No, I wanna sit.” You slurred, shaking your head.

“Why don’t we go home…” He said, “My parents are out for the night doing fuck knows what and Karen’s at her friend’s. It’ll just be us and you can get some sleep.”

When you were back on your feet, you shook your head, “No…I'm not sleeping with you. Not again, not after all that shit.” 

“No, no, no…not like that. I wouldn’t do that. I meant like…actually sleep.” He corrected himself, putting an arm around your waist as he started subtly leading you towards the door.

“Stop…why are you holding me? You don’t even like me!” You were starting to get louder as you spoke and Kenny looked at you with concern. He tightened his grip on you as you walked down the steps and headed towards his truck, hoping you wouldn’t fall.

“I do like you! I wouldn’t be helping you if I didn’t.”

“No, like…like me, like me…you dont like me.”

“Y/N…”

“Just shut up, Kenny.” You opened his truck door and flopped yourself in, slamming the door haphazardly behind you. Kenny pinched the bridge of his nose before walking to the other side of the truck, getting in and starting the engine. He leaned over and buckled you in and then took off his hoodie, leaving him in a white wife beater. He folded it up and then nudged you gently.

“Sit up.”

You moved a little away from your position of leaning up against the window long enough for him to slide the hoodie under your head. However, as soon as he positioned it, you sat up and pulled it down. You unbuckled your seatbelt and threw the hoodie onto your body. 

You heard Kenny mutter some curse words as he stopped backing out of the spot he was parked in to reach over and buckle you back into the seat with a sigh. You were about halfway to Kenny’s house when you felt your chest tighten. At first, you thought you were going to throw up. You were about to reach over and get Kenny’s attention so that he could pull over when you realized what was truly building inside of you and you broke down in tears.

Your head went into your hands as you sobbed. “What the…” Kenny spoke under his breath, turning his attention from the road to you briefly, reaching over to put his hand on your back, rubbing small circles.

“Hey…no…shhh…what’s got you so upset, babygirl?” he asked.

“Stop it!” You sobbed, reaching behind you to swat his hand away, “Stop saying that. Stop touching me. You don’t love me, so stop it!”

Kenny was silent momentarily, “What’s gotten into you? Like, I know we haven’t seen each other since that day in your room…and that’s my fault. I should’ve like…reached out or something, but I thought you hated me and…I promise. I fucking promise…I didn’t mean for it to come out the way that it did.”

“How else could it come out?” You cried, “You basically admitted that you didn’t want to be in a relationship with me and only wanted to fuck me even though I wanted to be with you and then you told me that you hadn’t told anyone about us probably because you wanted to fuck every girl you could this summer before they all packed it up and went back to college. That’s fucking ridiculous, Kenny. I thought the whole ‘McWhoremick” thing was like…a joke or like…the way your friends shit on you, but Jesus Christ.”

“I hadn’t told anyone because I didn’t know what we were and like…I knew that I liked you, but I didn’t know what else to do about it because Marj had told me so many times that you could do better and like…especially after that fight in your room…I knew you could do better so I just…tried to let you find that better? I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

“You never know! That’s the problem! How do you not know? You either love me or you don’t!”

“I just…”

You scoffed, “I love you! I love you. Is that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?”

He was silent for ages, only saying something about how you were drunk a mere seconds after your confession. You didn’t know at what point you’d pulled into Kenny’s driveway, but as soon as you registered where you were, you got out of the car and tried to storm towards the door, but stumbled, falling to your knees on the pavement. The sting of the scrape only added to your tears. You reached up and wiped your eyes, your crying becoming quieter as you were lifted to your feet by the boy who pulled you into his arms, running his fingers through your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Let's get you inside. We’ll clean your knees up…and wash your makeup off…and get you some water…and you can lay down.”

And that’s exactly what he did for you. You walked in and almost immediately collapsed onto his bed. He took this opportunity to clean your scraped knees and then got you up into a sitting position and helped you change into his hoodie and a spare pair of his boxers. You were half-asleep by the time that he took a makeup wipe to your face and started wiping the messy makeup off of your features. 

Lastly, Kenny got you situated in his bed, pulling the covers up and kissing your forehead. “I’m right here on the floor if you need anything. Popcorn bowl is on the floor. Water bottle is right next to it. Please, wake me up if you need me. I’ll be fine.”

You nodded in agreement, but then spoke up, “Can you stay with me?”

“Huh?” he asked, looking up at you from where he was sitting on the floor.

“Please sleep with me…” You said, reaching out towards him.

He chuckled, “You sure?”

You nodded again and scooted over to make room for him. He slid into the bedsheets and carefully positioned himself next to you, allowing you to move over and lay with your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.

The next few hours were littered with infrequent bouts of sleep mixed with burying your face into the popcorn bowl as your stomach purged itself of the alcohol that remained in your system, running to the bathroom on the few chances you felt you could make it, crying, and drinking water. The entire time, Kenny held you, held your hair back, and wiped your face with a cool washcloth. 

By the time you woke up the next day around 1PM, you were still exhausted, not feeling well, and fairly lost in regards to the events of last night. You just knew that you woke up with Kenny wrapped around you and you were in his hoodie and boxers and you prayed to whatever higher power may be out there that you hadn’t fucked him again.

You sat up and ran a hand through your hair, looking around until your eyes fell on your charging phone laying on the ground. You picked it up and saw two texts from Marjorine on top.

She’ll be okay.

Hehehe I knew it ;)

“What?” you whispered, unlocking your phone. You went straight to Marjorine’s text thread. Under your last response to her, a “kk!” from when she arrived at your house before the party, there was a longish thread of messages that clearly went between her and Kenny.

Where are you? I’ve been looking for you for an hour! Are you okay?

Hey, Marj. Thanks for giving me her passcode. My phone died right after I called you and I put her phone on the charger in my room. I can charge mine when she wakes up.

Is she okay? Omg.

Yeah, just going back between screaming, crying, and throwing up…literally. At least she started that once we’d already left or it would’ve been real bad. 

Bless her heart! What’d you say to get her so upset?

It wasn’t me! Damn. She just got upset…about us…and then screamed at me that she loved me.

And you said?

Nothing. She was drunk. 

Drunk words are sober thoughts. ;)

So, you think Cartman is sexy, huh?

Oh my goddddd stop. That isn’t true and this isn’t about me. What do you think of her?

I…might’ve realized I fucked up literally the night we had that fight…and I haven’t known what to do about it…so…I just…loved her in secret and accepted that she deserved better. I’m just worried she’s going to wake up and like…regret saying all of this and like trying to have this conversation with me again.

She’ll be okay.

Hehehe I knew it ;)

Your chest felt full and tight all at the same time and your eyes soon fell upon the sleeping blonde, who was still wrapped around you despite you sitting upright at this point. You reached down and ran your fingers through his hair gently. A few passes through his blonde locks and he stirred, looking up at you.

“Morning, beautiful.” he spoke groggily, “You okay?”

You nodded, “Just tired…”

“Mm…come lay back down then. Let's go back to bed.”

It was your turn to smirk over at him, “You love me, huh?”

“What?”

You pulled up the texts again, showing him and then reading his own words to him verbatim, “So…I just…loved her in secret and accepted that she deserved better.”

“Hey, that’s a private conversation!” he laughed.

“On my phone…” You retorted.

“Yeah!”

“So, do you love me?” You moved back down to laying next to him, turned on your side, propped up on your elbow. He blushed, lips curving back up into his famous devious grin.

“Ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?”

“I think I've heard worse.”

With a giggle and a kiss to his lips, your relationship with Kenny transitioned just as the seasons outside had started to move from the bright colors of an otherwise dark summer for you to the warm, comforts of fall…all starting and ending in that beat-up pickup. 

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes

What doesn't kill me makes me want you more

#south park #south park x reader #kenny mccormic x yn #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick x you #fanfiction #south park fanfiction #fanfic

[tiny-minecraft-rabbit]

Day 3: Wings

Using my own prompt list: here. You can also read this and every prompt as they come on AO3.

Summary:

Pearl is a fairy that loves sneaking into human homes, cleaning them up a bit was a good way to pass the time. This human home was a bit different than the others though. Gem gets a new friend!

Cleaning up homes was a pass time of Pearl's. There were only so many time you could dance on mushroom caps or spindle spider webs before it got repetitive. Humans always had something new to discover, and helping them out by keeping their multitude of things tidy was a good way to figure those things out. 

She flitted in through an open window, the curtains a pretty cherry pink and the kitchen rustic, a much more familiar style than some of the sleek chromic kitchens she'd been in the past. There were dirty dishes in the sink, a pot with the remnants of soup and of course bowls and spoons to go with it. She started there first, easily pushing the faucet on and, with the help of some magic, started scrubbing away at them. When that was finished she wiped down the kitchen counters, stopping for a moment to admire the little kitchen decoration: flower towelettes, patterned bowls, a cute deer figurine and hanging plants. She took a moment to give a little help to the plants as well, though they were doing well without it. 

Then she made her way through the living room, loving every little knick-knack and item and book she came across. This human wasn't very messy either, so while there wasn't much to do it gave her more time to admire how nice it was. It wasn't until she made her way into the bedroom that she regretted entering.

The walls were covered in bugs. Dead ones. All framed nice and pretty, like the rest of the house, with their wings spread nice and wide. Her hand gripping at her hoodie strings as she spotted a lunar moth, the bright green wings so reminiscent of her own. 

She turned, ready to fly out, when she heard the back door of the home open, so close to her open window exit. She took that moment to quickly find a hiding spot, slipping behind a vase of flowers. It wasn't the first time she's had to hide in a human house, but the first she had to for a human that had dead bugs on their walls!

She could barely hear them, a soft high voice. It was usually nice to hear how excited the humans got when they noticed the tidy rooms, not knowing who did them; but now as the human came closer and closer, checking each room for her helpful tampering, she grew more nervous. 

"Seems like it was just the living room and kitchen," the human spoke, peaking into her own room, "Well either way the surprise tidy is very appreciated. I wonder if it was Impulse, a little thank you for the dinner last night? I'll shoot him a message for sure." 

The human entered her room, starting her own bit of cleaning, "Might as well finish what was started," she giggled, getting to work on fixing up the small mess of paints in the corner of the room.

It was very unhelpful as Pearl now didn't have a clear way to escape, and staying in the room with the display of wings was in no way helping her nerves. 

She didn't wait long enough, she darted out the moment the human's back was fully turned despite the fact she should have waited until she had full left the room. The moment she was in open space the human was turning again, easily catching sight of her.

"Oh my!" The human exclaimed, and Pearl flinched at the sound of clattering paint brushes hitting the floor.

She flew faster, though she wasn't built much for speed. 

"Wait! Hold on a second," the human called and gave chase. It didn't take long, Pearl was trapped in cupped hands. "Oh, wow, would you look at you." 

Pearl folded her wings tight against her back, curling up and covering her head, trying to go unseen, obviously unsuccessful.

"No, hey, it's okay. I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you. You weren't the one that did all the nice tidying were you?" 

She glanced up, figuring she may as well answer truthfully. The human seemed grateful enough, "Uh, yeah! I did. The window was open and I- Well your kitchen was so pretty I wanted to explore and I couldn't just leave such a pretty kitchen in disrepair."

"Aw! Thank you! Aren't you just the sweetest little fairy? I'm Gem. How about you?" The human smiled, flattening her hand. 

"Pearl," she answered hesitantly, wings fluttering. 

"I love your wings," Gem cooed. 

Pearl yelped, immediately scotting back, not making it very far as she was still in her hands. "You can't have them!" 

"What?" 

"You- you can't have them!" Pearl repeated, stuttering over the human's obvious confusion. 

Gem's brow furrowed a bit, head tilted to the side, before her mouth dropped into an 'o' shape. She glanced back at her room and then back at Pearl. 

"I'm not gonna take your wings. All my little bugs are ethically sourced, promise. Taking yours would be immensely cruel, and I'm not about hurting little friends. Unless they deserve it of course." 

Pearl smiled a bit, "I can get by that." 

"Well then, little Pearlo-" Gem started walking into the kitchen with her in hand. Pearl saw the window was still open, letting the rest of the tension leave her shoulders, "you want soup?" 

#pearlescentmoon #geminitay #hermitcraft #hermitcraft fanfic #hermitcraft g/t #mcyt g/t #are there any hetmit g/t tags? #i also don't know if gem and pearl have a duo name #smalltober #october prompts #rabbit writes #I've been told their name is #shiny duo #good to know #tiny pearlescentmoon #cw bugs

[finniestoncrane]

Your One True Nemesis

Chapter 16: also on AO3 Masterlist Here Arkham!Riddler x Female!Reader, word count: 2.5k i am truly sorry for what this chapter contains. if i had known... look just go with it, it is what it is request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: angst, spying, fingering FINALLY MY GOD

With the shame of your dream still tinting your cheeks a light pink, you left your bedroom in the first clothes your hands reached. It was probably wise not to irritate Eddie anymore than you already had by waking up this late in the day. And as you approached him at the small dining table, you could feel the nerves settling in your stomach, as though you were about to be reprimanded severely for the crime of catching up on some sleep.

“Sorry about that, I’m ready to… what is it you needed me to do first?”

You looked around suspiciously, noting that the living area was oddly tidy, and that Eddie was eating lunch which he had obviously made for himself.

“This is the last thing I need to get to Jonathan for now. Here.”

Without looking at you, he passed you the bag with the contents already inside.

“I’m assuming you’ll want to go meet up with him.”

“I don’t mind…”

“Ah, sure. Well, it’s raining. It would be wise to take your jacket.”

He gestured at it with his thumb, still cold and inattentive.

“Where is it-”

“I put the note in the pocket. Hurry up… please. You’re already late. Though I’m sure he won’t mind waiting for you.”

His tone was odd, unsettling. Something was wrong with him, something was going on. But you knew better than to pry, especially not when you’d already seemingly held him back. Picking up your jacket on the way out, you searched in the pocket for the note Eddie had left. You’d been ignoring your phone so far since you woke up, trying not to get distracted, but as you left the sewers, you took a glance. There were two texts from Mark.

“Running late? Or has the great Riddler forgotten that he has an appointment.”

“Hey, I don’t mind hanging around for a gal like you, babe. But let me know if I’m wasting me time ;)”

You typed quickly as the elevator shuddered upwards.

“I slept in, my fault entirely. I’ll be there in 30 minutes.”

The reply was quick.

“No problem, babe. But you owe me one!”

It was hard to contain the smile. A playful back and forth was always welcome when your every day conversation with Eddie was stilted and filled with tension and what seemed to be constant errors on your part. You let out a sigh, heaving open the elevator door and stepping out into the sunlight.

Below you, Eddie listened to the small radio he held in his hand. He could hear you sighing, that meant the microphone in the button on your jacket was placed perfectly, which he knew it would be. He had to be sure that you weren’t divulging any secrets to this henchman. To make sure that you weren’t getting too friendly with him. Of course, anything else you did was your own business. He was purely focused on securing his work and his business. It wouldn’t hurt to find out a little bit more about your behaviours in the real world though.

“Hey!”

You cringed at how enthusiastic you sounded as you greeted Mark. Slowing down the jogging pace at which you approached him, you tried to avoid too much eye contact. It didn’t deter him though, as he was quick to wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace, only letting go after what felt like minutes to lift your chin up, dropping a soft peck on your lips before he let go completely. You blushed as you watched his smug grin spread over his mouth, his own cheeks slightly tinged with pink as he spoke.

“You’re so late!”

“I know, I know. It was… a weird evening. I didn’t get a lot of sleep and what I did manage was… not great.”

“Aw, babe. Bad dreams?”

He offered a mocking pout before playfully shoving your arm. You tilted your head, visibly unamused but still smiling.

“I’m kidding! What was it? Stress?”

“No… well, maybe. I don’t know. Weird anyway. Just… the usual. With Eddie.”

“You wanna take a walk? Clear your head?”

You handed him the parcel, and he gave you the vials, the standard exchange. But he held his hand out afterwards, waiting for you to take it.

“C’mon. It’ll do you good!”

Why stop now? Why rush back when you hadn’t done so any other time? Besides, Eddie mentioned this was the last exchange for the time being. You had no idea how long it might be before you saw Mark again. Of course, you could just message him. But that felt like a whole new level of commitment. But taking his hand and running off for a while, that didn’t seem too bad. You placed your palm against his, your fingers intertwining as he pulled you in close to him.

The walk through the park was nice, but quiet. Neither of you seemed to know what to say. You imagine it was out of fear of saying the wrong thing, and having it be one of the last things you said to each other. Or at least you did, anyway. With Mark it was hard to tell. He was smiling, and he seemed quite content with just strolling around. Every so often, he’d squeeze your hand, like he was reminding you he was still there. Like he was waiting on you to speak first, coaxing you. Maybe he really did want you to clear your head, to get everything off your chest? But it was hardly a romantic dalliance if you were complaining about Eddie the whole time.

“So. Last official meeting, huh?”

You were shocked by his voice, it seemed so sudden and without warning. After a moment, you managed to reply.

“Last one for a while, at least.”

“Last one ever maybe, babe! I think we should do something a bit more exciting than walking around outside in the rain. You wanna go celebrate properly?”

“Celebrate the possibility of never seeing you again?”

“Hey, whatever makes it easier for you.”

Mark was smiling at you, but you could see something more behind his eyes, something that let slip how superficial the grin really was.

“I don’t know, we’ve been out for so long already…”

“Oh come on! You owe me, remember?”

You were so easily won over by him. It was almost dangerous, or at least it would be if you didn’t know that you wanted to be coerced so simply. Before you really knew it, he was buying you a drink at the bar, his arm around your waist as he drew you into him, guiding you to a table at the back of the room. His charm was effortless, and you knew you would miss him. You had Eddie though. That thought wasn’t as comforting as you thought it might be though.

Sensing your sudden discomfort, Mark knocked his glass against yours, giving a short toast before he took your hand across the table.

“Ok, what’s up?”

“Nothing! I’m fine.”

Come on, let it all out. Don’t make me get shots. I’ll loosen you up one way or another.”

“Ok, ok, ok. It’s just. It’s a lot, you know? Eddie.”

It wasn’t your intention to rant for almost an hour. It just felt so good to have someone listen, genuinely listen. And not retort with anything, not put the blame back on you. Mark let you carry on, letting all of your gripes out, your little annoyances, bigger issues, your confusion about where you might stand now and what you might do next.

“I just wish he was a bit more… open? Or a bit nicer. Even if it’s just pretend, you know?”

Mark nodded as he looked into his almost empty glass.

“I’m so sorry, Mark. I didn’t mean to talk about him this whole time.”

“Hey, don’t worry, babe. You gotta get these things off your chest!”

You smiled, looking down at the table as you fiddled with the cuffs of your jacket. Even in the bar it was still cold, given that you were soaked from the rain. Unknown to you, that meant that Eddie had heard everything you said. Every complaint. Everything.

“So…”

Mark looked awkward, with an almost mischievous grin on as you waited for him to finish his sentence.

“… you and Eddie ever…?”

It took a few seconds for you to realise what he was implying, and you scoffed when it hit you.

“Absolutely we have not! Jesus, Mark!”

“Oh what? Is he blind?”

“Why do you assume that it’s his attraction to me that means we haven’t fucked? It has to be on his end? You don’t think I might take issue with the idea of having sex with Eddie?”

“I mean… yeah. It’s pretty obvious that you’re desperate for him.”

“W… what?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb, babe. You’re gonna tell me you don’t have any feelings for him?”

Nervous, trying to stay cool, you laughed incredulously, waving him off.

“I really don’t.”

“You just… have him on your mind constantly?”

“Well… I mean… yeah.”

“That’s a problem then, huh, babe?”

You were trying to figure him out. Trying to tell what his angle was. But you weren’t quick enough to do so before he gave you the answer.

“You want me to help you forget about him?”

Leaning across the table, Mark placed his hands on your cheeks, pulling you into a deep kiss. One that got far too passionate too quickly for a public space, as his tongue pressed between your lips, lapping at your own, pulling forth an elicit moan from your throat.

“Oh my god…”

You pulled back from him, covering your mouth to prevent any more tell-tale sounds from escaping, and Mark laughed, grabbing at your hands.

“C’mon.”

Without questioning him, you followed, and he led you to the back of the bar, close to the bathrooms and out of a rusted door. In the alley, shielded by the rain from the tall buildings, he held you again, his hands finding their way to your waist as you placed yours on his solid chest. With his fingers dipped slightly into the waistband of your jeans, he guided you backwards until you were pinned between his surprisingly strong body and the wall. Throwing your arms around his neck, you pulled him into you, moaning softly as he kissed at your neck.

Sitting at the dining table, furiously scratching at the surface absent-mindedly, Eddie shouted to himself, enraged at your perceived betrayal. Not of him, but of his trust.

“We’ll see how easily he makes his way into your pants when I’ve had my way with him. Your little boyfriend has indeed earned the right to die at my skilled hands.”

Every shuffle, every whimper only drove him a little bit more insane as he sat there alone, listening to the painful sounds. But he didn’t turn it off. He couldn’t.

“If I need to meet him to fight so be it. I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard. We’d hardly be meeting as equals. In fact, he would literally have not a hope of victory.”

Impressed with his own imaginary skills, and his apparently predictable triumph, he kept listening to you, voice higher and softer as you let Mark’s hands fall over your body. His palms, brushing over your stomach and your sides, cupping at your breasts over your bra as you threw your head back.

“Mind cleared yet?”

You giggled into his neck, unable to speak past the confusing flurry of possible answers that flooded your brain. Any thoughts were interrupted though, as Mark’s fingers started pulling at the button and zip on your jeans, tugging at them slightly until they were shuffled down, your panties and abdomen exposed to the cold. Mark’s hand, warm and large, covered you as he sank his fingers below your underwear, two of them stroking down over your swollen lips and pressing between them, circling your clit as you whined against him.

Picking up the pace, he slid his digits inside of you as he kissed your neck, groaning and laughing as you stifled your screams of pleasure. Biting your lip, you tried to hold back the sounds, but it was impossible not to. You gave in to them, squealing as he bit at your neck, his fingers pumping in and out of you. It felt so good. The release, the pleasure. Too good not to scream about it, to hold back the moans, the words.

“God… so good…”

Mark took a brief pause between biting and licking at your skin to speak, voice shuddering, breath ragged with the effort he exerted into fucking you with his fingers.

“Yeah, you like that?”

“Mhm…”

Spurred on by your noted pleasure, he brought his fingers back down, coating your cunt in your own slick as he spread your lips again, teasing at you as he kissed your neck.

“Oh… Eddie…”

Mark noticed a lot quicker than you did, immediately stopping all movements, fingers still inside of you, face still pressed against your neck. Only when you wondered why he stopped did everything fall into place.

“Mark! Mark… Mark I am so… I’m so sorry! Oh my god…”

Stepping back from you, he rubbed his fingers against his jeans and shook his head softly.

“Not good enough to clear your mind, huh, babe?”

“Mark, it’s not like that, it’s just-”

“Nah, I got a good idea of what it is. You’re just as fucked as he is.”

“Hey!”

“I gotta go. This was terrible, we should… do it again sometime? Maybe not.”

He walked away from you, leaving you in the dark alley. Unlike him. But you could understand. It was upsetting, for everyone involved.

Or not everyone, because Eddie was currently sat at the dining table, very pleased with himself. The smug satisfaction didn’t last long though, as he was hurriedly drenched in panic, questioning whether your mention of his name while someone else touched you meant that you liked him, in that way at least.

“I expected he’d disappoint me. But not you. At least now there’s…”

He wondered what he was going to say next. Hope? Hope for what? For something he had been thinking of for a long time without ever bothering to ruminate on it past a superficial consideration and a quick distraction?

Whatever it meant, and whatever he intended to do with his discovery, he had more pressing matters at hand. And those matters were currently pressing against the front of his pants, offering him the latest in a long line of base-level human desires that he was usually able to ignore. So he slinked off to his bedroom, hoping that you might not speak to him when you arrived home. He’d be finished before then though. He could hear the panting in your breath still on the radio as you walked quickly. That was enough for him in that moment. It was all he needed.

#i'm a bit late today sorry! so i'm posting now and again at the usual time! sorry sorry sorry! #finnie writes #arkham riddler #arkham edward nigma #riddler x reader #arkhamverse riddler #the riddler #arkhamverse #riddler #the riddler imagine #riddler smut #the riddler fanfic #riddler fanfic #riddler x you #edward nigma x reader #edward nigma #arkham!riddler #the riddler fanfiction #arkham!verse #finnie yotn

[a-boca-do-inferno]

Prague getaway (jack ryan x female oc)

summary: “Oh, loosen up already.” Randy leans back and shoots him a teasing look. “We’re gonna be here a long time, might as well hold hands and start singing Kumbaya.”

warnings: angst, blood, violence, swearing.lots of it, light smut, fluff

words: 10.7k (:O)

notes: jack ryan girlies rise!! i put my whole pussy in this. also its my first time ever writing with an oc so bear with me lmao.

CENTRAL EUROPE

Birds chirped outside and the loud chatter coming from the street was a bit distracting from the sound of TV, but Randy managed. Her plate faced her on the coffee table, now empty, along with a half filled cup of apple juice. It must have been past noon while she had the time of her life laying on that dirty and ancient couch, watching some Czech program about the Internet. And by the time of her life, she secretly meant being bored as hell. Tagging along with Jack Ryan wasn’t even on the list of the worst things that could’ve happened to her given the circumstances, by the way, she’s well aware of that—seeing as her life was now on the line and he was only there to protect her—but goddamnit, was that cable shit. The things she did to put Jim at ease. 

Although the girl didn’t really agree with his tactics to go about it; Johnson just knew better than to argue with Greer. After she started getting on his nerves with her insistence on using the intel she acquired and he actually took her seriously, it had been noticeable he came to think of himself like a father figure to her, since she was a rookie in the mission department. And Randy simply let him feel that way. Being away from his family ever took its toll on the guy and contrary to popular belief, she wasn’t the clueless, selfish bitch everyone made her to be.

Always, anyway.

Jack glances at her spread out on the sofa, trying to keep his annoyance in check and failing miserably. “What are you watching?” His voice suggests he’s very affected that Randy herself doesn’t appear fazed by their current situation. At all.

They had been stuck in that shithole for six hours now, completely in the dark as to where the mission stood after the shady organisation of the moment—as Johnson liked to put it—crushed into their hotel rooms and chased them out of town. And despite not exactly considering the capital of the Czech Republic under a terrorist threat for his idea of a nice vacation, it certainly beat having to now share some dirty kitchenette in the outskirts of Prague with the most insufferable woman he’s ever met. Jack caught wind of the discrepancies in the way they did their job from the start, and to say he wasn’t pleased with hers was an understatement. Her so-called intel had led them to that place, and her negligence above it all bothered him to no end. That and the ever present snark. He wondered how in the world did that character make it to the agency. She should’ve been in publicity, instead.

“A nice TV show about ordinary people wanting to become influencers”, Johnson responds in that tone of hers, with an almost sweet smile. Ryan’s mouth moves as though he’ll say something, but decides not to. He has better things to do with his time than to argue with a brat. Jack simply stares at her green eyes and sighs, going back to his computer screen, and Randy snorts, “well, Jim did mention you don’t like having people around.” Her feet move back and forth as she watches him type. “I’m like you in that way, you know?” Closing the distance between them, she brushes some stuff off his eyelid carefully, and it’s clear the man wasn’t expecting that. He tenses up. “So, my bad. I don’t wanna be here any more than you do, but you know Greer.” 

“Is that so?” Jack blinks, scanning her face up and down wryly. “In that case, you’re free to leave anytime you want.” 

Johnson laughs heartily, contrasting his impassive demeanour. “You do have a sense of humour, Jackie! I’ll give you that.” She shrugs and grins, with a declare to her voice, “and to answer your question: maybe I’d try to, but I’m not skilled enough to outsmart a Marine, I’m afraid.” 

Jack looks away, still typing on the keyboard mechanically. “You sound like a fan.” 

“You wish.” Her orbs gleam with mischief, and she sits a bit straighter to make a striking pose. “I wouldn’t mind learning some moves, though. I’d love to kick some ass. I bet I could take you, big man.” 

Ryan chuckles under his breath, against his best judgement. It feels surreal to him, this girl. “You certainly have a unique way about yourself.” He states bluntly, raising his brows as he closes up the laptop and puts it on the small table to their side. “Don’t really look like someone in Logistics.”

Randy nods, crossing her legs with a smug expression. “I didn’t get the memo before taking the job, I guess.” 

“Right.”

“Oh, loosen up already.” She sits up and leans back on the couch, her attention going to the program running in the background for a second. “We’re gonna be here a long time, by the looks of it. Might as well hold hands and start singing Kumbaya.” 

Jack shakes his head slightly, his tone growing more serious. “You need to focus on the mission, Johnson. This isn’t a game.”

“Sure thing, dad”, she snickers, running a hand through her short hair idly. “You talk like it’s your head those fuckers want on a plate.” 

“It is too, actually.” Ryan frowns. That’s the attitude he doesn’t like. “I suggest you get your head out of your ass as soon as possible. Enough people have died because of you.” 

Although his words sting, Randy keeps a lighthearted mood. “So is that why you’re behaving like an asshole ever since we landed, you’re worried about yourself?”, she wiggles her brows, fixing a few blonde strands softly and clicking her tongue. “And here I thought you just didn’t like me.”

“I don’t have time for this”, Jack mutters to himself and leaves, closing the door to his room quietly.

Johnson only hummed along, watching as the winner of the episode celebrated on the screen. She knew Ryan was doing nothing but his duty protecting her, of course, yet it felt strangely disappointing that he, of all people, seemed to judge her so much for her actions up until that point. Randy went behind her superiors’ backs to scavenge the information that now threatened her own safety, sure, but how many times had he done the same thing again? Either way, arguing with the guy about it was just showing she cared for his opinion—which she didn’t, for the record. That cable just sucked and she was bored as hell. With a heavy sigh, the girl stood up to turn off the TV when a sound made her ears prick up. She frowned, inspecting the empty space. Something fell on the floor with a loud thud in the other room and Randy took a step back. 

“Jack?”, she calls, getting no reply. 

Her feet moved toward his door and it crashed right before her eyes, causing her to step away in reflex as two bloody men were thrown on the ground with it. With no time to process what was happening, Ryan took her by the arm and dragged her out of the apartment with no delicacy whatsoever. They ran down the stairs while he cocked his gun and whispered something unintelligible. She grabbed his forearm when another two hooded figures started closing in on them. Jack quickly got rid of the attackers and gave Randy a look before pulling her out of the building and into a car.

“Drive.” He commands, keeping his eyes behind at anyone following their vehicle. 

She obeys without a second thought, stepping on the accelerator with all her might. Johnson grips the wheel tightly as she mouths, in a shaky breath, “what the fuck is going on, Jack? Talk to me.”

Ryan braces himself as they take a harsh turn, blood dripping from his eyebrow. “They found us again.”

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” Randy gasps when a pickup appears out of nowhere, shooting at them. She makes a u-turn and steps on the pedal, watching from the rear mirror. “How the hell did that happen?”

“I don’t know, just drive!” Jack rolls down his window and fires all his rounds at the vehicle still on their tail. He goes back to his seat and reloads his pistol, looking straight ahead. “We gotta get to the Embassy.”

“Got it.”

♡♡♡

“I see.” Jim sighs through the phone call. “I still have some business here in Moscow, but I’ll be in Prague as soon as I can.” 

Jack doesn’t like the sound of it at all. He keeps track of Randy moving around in the background. “Copy.”

The ride to the Embassy was messy, but they made it in one piece. Well, Ryan did. After settling in the nice hotel the Ambassador offered them in another city nearby Prague—as to not draw any more attention to them, in his own words—, now with heavy security outside, Johnson winced when trying to change. She lifted her shirt and only then saw the ugly bruise on her abdomen, her skin sliced open and gushing blood. It was a bullet graze and albeit it wasn’t serious, the thing still hurt like a bitch. As the girl hissed and took a seat on the bed, Jack stopped in his tracks and crouched down before her. He gauged her injury with a trained eye, his lips curling in thought. 

“Remorse?” Randy laughs deeply, tilting her head. “Don’t worry, I don’t hold grudges.” She sighs and looks at him seriously, like she hadn’t been until now. “How the hell did they find us this time, Jack? This stinks. No one knew about that hideout except you, me and Greer.”

His voice drops to a lower register as he takes her arm and brings it around his shoulders to lay her down, “I’m working on it. Right now we need to focus on getting you patched up.” Jack pulls her body close to his and fluffs the pillows, making her comfortable. He tries to ignore the way her hair tickles his chin.

Johnson chews the inside of her cheek, but accepts the help. “I’m okay, it’s just a graze.” She gulps and scratches her eyelids, taking a deep breath and glancing up at the ceiling. “That pickup didn’t look cheap. These people have some serious connections here. We have to get to the bottom of this.”

“We will”, Ryan says with resolve, nodding once. He scans the room in search of a med-kit and Randy points to the bathroom. 

While Jack leaves for a moment, Johnson moves a little and pouts when the pain comes back. He catches her in the act and she chuckles, a little embarrassed, “so much for spy training, huh?”

Rummaging through the kit, he hums, “if it was easy, everyone would do it.” In the midst of pulling out the antiseptic and the gauze roll, he steals a quick peek at her.

Randy only grunts in response, her lips pursed. “Greer’s gonna get our asses for this. He doesn’t even know we left Prague in the first place.”

Jack doesn’t reply immediately. He’s finally found the right size gauze roll and puts it aside. His orbs roam her up and down, studying her exposed skin. He whispers, almost talking to himself, “he’ll get over it.”

“You know, I’m sorry about earlier”, her gaze has an amused gleam, but seems sincere. “I have been a little more annoying than normal, I’m aware. I’m sure by now you noticed why I’m not so popular among my peers in the agency, especially not after this… mess.” She looks down.

“You make it difficult for them because you can afford it”, he considers, cleaning her wound delicately. Taking note of her surprised reaction, he adds with a smirk, “I read your file. You’re not the only one who did the homework.”

After a moment of silence, she speaks up again, solemnly, “when we’re done with this, I’d like to make it up to you.” Randy sits up against the headboard with his help, now grinning, “how does pizza sound?”

His chest feels funny as Jack catches the look on her face. The offer sounds genuine and he smiles. “I’d love that. Your call on toppings.” When her bandage is finished, he puts the med-kit away in the bathroom cabinets.

“That’s right, I make all the decisions”, Johnson pushes his shoulder lightly as he sits back down, making him raise his brows but laugh along. “You learn fast. I can see why they talk so much about the analyst down the hallways, now.”

“I make them talk, huh?” Ryan tries to play it off with a soft chuckle, yet the blush on his cheeks is obvious. He leans in closer to take the phone on the bed, and with their faces only inches apart, his body can’t help but linger in that position. Suddenly the atmosphere tingles with tension and his breath hitches ever so slightly. Her eyes are breathtaking.

“Your humble act doesn’t work on me”, her voice is but a whisper, the corner of her lip lifting up ghostly. “Jim gave me the rundown on you before I came here, you know? He told me not to inflate your massive ego.”

He beams, his look dropping to her mouth, “that sounds like jealousy.” 

Randy laughs and now can’t hide her own bashfulness. She reaches for the bedside table and puts on her round sunglasses, looking away from him in a not so subtle attempt at denying his advances. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jack.” The girl sighs heavily, unable to stare back at him for now.

Her words were clear enough. It was a bad idea, indeed. And in spite of being visibly disappointed, his facial expression stayed blank as his phone started ringing again. It was probably Jim. He thanked the heavens in silence for that call to get him out of that situation. His thumb hovered over the screen for a moment and Ryan moved away from her, pressing the answer button as he got up and left for the other room. He grabbed his jacket over the chair as he went, glancing back at Johnson before she was completely out of vision. There was a flicker of curiosity in her emerald orbs whilst Jack closed the door.

Randy went to sleep right away, in hopes to wash off the incident with Jack by rebooting her systems. Besides, she was very exhausted; so much so her bones felt like jelly under her skin. Turning on her side with all the care in the world, she shut her eyes and drifted off to sleep. Soon her body began to spasm and shake, sweat dripping from her forehead as she turned on the bed and hissed when her wound stung. She sat back up with a quiet gasp. The war nightmares were a normal thing to occur, but had been more frequent from the moment she landed in Prague. 

On the other side of the wall, Jack leaned back in a chair as he flipped through a small manila folder. His attention was glued to the paper, but his mind wondered. The sound of Randy tossing and turning on the mattress reached him and he tensed up, closing his eyes briefly as if to block out the sounds. He stayed like this for several moments before finally forcing himself to face reality. They had been running from terrorists when they should be the ones trying to catch them, and that didn’t sit right with him. Hiding wasn’t helping them in any way, out of maybe buying some time to rethink their strategy. And with Johnson hurt, Jack saw no other option but to push things forward on his own. He called Mike November the next minute, urging him to come to the Czech Republic tomorrow. They were gonna need all the help they could get. 

The hours dragged on and his thoughts kept him awake. There was no way he could sleep while Randy was alone in the other room, wounded. She wasn’t a field operative, and that meant her training would only help her so much away from him. The girl barely survived the last encounter with their attackers, all because she had been lucky enough not to be in the room they invaded first. He tried to shake off the feeling of guilt over her injury to no avail. It wasn’t serious, however it could’ve been, and the mission would’ve been compromised then. Ryan gave up on the file and sat it aside.

Regardless of not being able to figure out Randy entirely just yet, John realised he had been cultivating a fondness for her over the past events. For someone who never used a gun in her life, except maybe for her training days, Johnson kept calm and helped with what she could, no questions asked. Not everyone has that kind of self control in the face of danger and he admired her for it. She even reminded Jack of himself, somewhat, back when he was a rookie—even though he wasn’t as annoying, surely. Either way, the blonde had a grace about her. Perhaps it was that nearly youthful spirit, the playfulness even in the blink of imminent disaster. He still found it hard to believe she had made her way into the CIA without losing most of her spark by now. 

His look automatically dropped to Randy’s file, right under the mission’s. He scanned through some of the notes and reports he had been doing up until now. Johnson had been with the agency for just over four years, still her work ethic was impressive, at the very least. The only negative points were personal complaints from her previous office colleagues, most of them depicting her as a “stubborn, impulsive and rebellious, but effective agent”. He chuckled under his breath. That sounds about right. 

Jack flipped through more pages, going over her skills: communication, adaptability and problem solving were top on the list. His eyes glossed over the next sheet: relationships, but he quickly stopped himself and closed the envelope. He’s already overstepped as it is. Ryan put down the file and let out a frustrated sigh. Thinking back on the days before the mission, he remembered Jim’s words. 

“She’s a tough cookie, but you’ll get used to it.” Greer swirls his glass of Merlot casually. “I know how it looks and trust me, I’m one of the people who doubted her from the beginning, until it turned out her intel was solid. I don’t care how she got it or why, just as long as we catch that son of a bitch Jones.”

Jack could see the concerned look on Jim’s face as he delivered his briefing. He didn’t appear so confident in the girl’s abilities as he tried to come across. And while it didn’t bother Ryan perse, he had this unshakeable gut feeling that there was a lot more to Randy than what you can see at first glance. Perhaps even more so than she let Jim himself know. 

“Copy.” That’s what he said back then, nodding and staring at the table.

“And don’t even think about it”, were his boss’ last remarks as he gulped down his wine in one go. “Randy’s not Cathy, Jack. You’re there to protect her and the information she holds before Jones can get to her.” His voice sounds tight, but not really threatening. Greer’s always been a little too overprotective of the rookies. “No fooling around.”

“Jack”, Randy calls huskily. “I’m bleeding.” She complains, yawning softly. Johnson stares at the dark room and sighs, doing her best to wake up fully. “Jack.”

His eyes fixated on Randy’s picture when he heard her voice coming from her bedroom. He stood up and opened the door, flicking on the light and making his way to her bed. Her wound oozed blood under her shirt, soaking the fabric in red as it dripped down onto the mattress and he shook his head, looking at all the work he had put on the bandages now gone. 

“What the hell did you do, Johnson?”, he grumbles, running for the bathroom to take the med-kit.

“I moved”, she shrugs and tries out a playful smile, but grimaces when a sharp sting hits her like a brick. “Just… hand me the gauze and I’ll clean it up myself.” She concludes, noticing he isn’t pleased.

Jack comes back with the kit and narrows his eyes, his features remaining stoic, “sit down and put pressure on it.” He grabs her wrist to help her up, moving her back to the headboard. His lips purse as he inspects the red liquid streaming from her side. “It looks even worse than before, Jesus.”

“Sorry”, she frowns and looks away, feeling guilty for making him do this again. “I really can do it, you know? I’m not a baby.”

“Really? You’re not doing such a great job at convincing me otherwise”, he states softly, his initial anger dissipating to give room for worry as he treats her injury. She doesn’t respond, adjusting herself on the pillows. “Stay still.”

Randy sighs. “I wanna talk to Greer.”

“What for? He says he’s coming.” Jack wraps the gauze around her abdomen, holding the roll package between his teeth. “There’s nothing we can do for now. Jones is onto us. We have to be extra careful.”

“Yeah, that’s not really my style”, she huffs, visibly bothered by his decision making without consulting her. “I’m calling my contact in Roztoky. He can help us move around the city without worrying so much.”

“Your contact”, Ryan sounds unimpressed, finishing off the new bandage. He looks down at his lap for a split second, then turns his gaze back to Randy. “Don’t you think it’s time you caught me up on all of this?”

“I told you everything.”

“Did you, now?” Randy glares and he stares right on, scowling himself. “All you have done so far is get on my nerves and not cooperate with the mission at hand.”

“I don’t cooperate with you bossing me around, that’s very different”, Johnson blurts out in a single breath, looking upset. “I might not be the big shot you are in the agency, but I have a right to know where we stand because it concerns my safety too. I don’t care if I’m fucking Logistics.” 

Jack still glowers at the girl, but eventually softens his features. She’s got a point. “Fine. I called a friend just now. He’ll help.”

“Okay.” It’s all she says, and anticipating the end of the conversation, Jack moves to leave. Her hand touches his arm faintly before he does, “thanks.”

Nodding, he steps away and closes the door. 

♡♡♡

When Jim told Randy to get on the next plane to Prague only days ago, something inside of her shifted. So far she had been carrying this intuitive sensation that no matter what she did, the guys higher up would never take her warnings into consideration. And then, just as Johnson gave up and decided to do things on her own, Jones bombed a US Embassy in Europe, and announced he would keep on doing it until he was either killed or caught. Overnight, all the letters the girl sent the director of the CIA were answered and in less than a week, they stationed her and Jack in Prague. 

“Wait for further instructions. As of now, Dr. Jack Ryan will be assisting you”, was the last email Greer typed. And with that, Johnson flew with the so-called doctor to Europe. She knew all about Jack’s successful streak with Suleiman, then Venezuela and Moscow, of course. The tales of “the analyst” often made her chuckle whilst spooning her salad, since people were unable to hide their admiration—and sometimes, even envy—for Ryan as they shared his stories on lunch break. Nothing much happened on Logistics, so that had been their entertainment for a long time. Until things became erratic with the Prague bombings, that is. 

Looking back now, everything happened so quickly. Randy didn’t have a chance to take it all in. The rush was similar to her days in the army, when she had to get moving around with no time to think or feel. There was the goal and the path she’d be taking towards it, nothing else. She saw the same mindset in Ryan right away, even if their approach was fundamentally different. The blonde reckoned the Marine Corps could be stricter and, as a result, more demanding than military service. That is also why, although not hitting it off well from the beginning, she tried her best to remain friendly with him—which could include being annoying every now and then, sure, but that’s beside the point. They both possessed life experiences not too far apart that deeply shaped them into who they were today, for better or for worse, and that meant something. Jack was her. 

Only grumpier and square. 

Staring back at the table, Randy resumed eating her meal. Pancakes were her favourite dish, no matter where she was. And again, she felt lucky enough that Jack’s remorse made him go out of his way to try and fetch her some from the downstairs cafeteria. His friend Mike was funny, funnier than Ryan—not that it was hard—and she had a great time while they chatted over a nice American breakfast in Central Bohemian, Czech Republic. It almost felt as though they weren’t being chased down by assassins, and she hadn’t nearly been hospitalised for an infection in her bullet graze only the night before. 

“So?” Randy smiles brightly at Mike, urging him to speak after she briefed him on the situation. Jack had been quiet until now, because he was boring, so she took it upon herself to catch Mike up on the whole deal. If his laughter at her stupid jokes was anything to go by, she’d take a hunch and say they built a strong bond already. If only things could work like that with Ryan. “You think you can help us, Mikey?”

Michael can’t help but snort, oscillating his eyes between Johnson and Jack, who’s still eyeing his empty plate in thought, “where did you find her again?”

“Don’t ask”, Ryan finally sighs and Randy shrugs, eating her pancakes happily. He looks at November seriously. “I’m gonna need you to call your guy. We have to be in the same place as Jones, hit him when he doesn’t expect it. We’re running out of time.”

“I’m on it”, Mike nods, then glances at the girl with a grin. “How about you, sweetheart? Ready for some grown up action?”

Jack rolls his eyes at this, but Randy laughs out loud. She’s yet to get used to being treated like a damsel in distress. “Hey, I can throw a punch! Don’t let Jack poison your mind. He’s just butthurt that I got intel working in Logistics that he couldn’t as a field agent.”

“Ouch. That hurt even me.” He snickers and Ryan stands up, putting his gun inside his pants. Mike follows suit. “Just right down to business, huh?”

“I told you, we don’t have time”, Jack takes a look at Randy, who’s watching them with her chin on her hand, smiling. He clears his throat and touches her shoulder lightly, “we’ll be back before dark. Try not to hurt yourself while I’m away.”

They hadn’t mentioned the little incident last night, but when his touch found her skin, Johnson’s mind made its way back to his closeness hours prior. How he ogled her lips with no shame whatsoever, and how eager he seemed for breaking the rules for her, so to speak. It was a nice change in pace for the Jack she had come to see around that period. It also took her an enormous amount of self-control not to jump on him right then and there, however there were more important things at play. If only she wasn’t such a professional. 

Randy renders a hand salute, mockingly. “Aye, aye, sir.”

Mike smiles at Ryan. “I like her.”

As they left, Johnson sighed and stood up, going for the burner Mike brought with him so they could communicate. She called her boss in Maryland and gave him a summary of the mission, explaining Jack’s plan thoroughly. They found a way into Jones’ charity event tomorrow, courtesy of Mike’s contact. If everything went well today, she would be face to face with her target in just a few hours. Her orders were loud and clear: shoot to kill. Placing the device down, the blonde took a deep breath, looking out the window at the clean, welcoming landscape of Horoměřice. 

She was never a fan of big cities, despite being born in Los Angeles. The nice and quiet suited her better, so leaving Prague, notwithstanding she wished for better circumstances, was actually a relief. Away from the hustle of the capital, she could think more clearly. And the thought of coming back here after the operation made her happy. The people were nice and very comprehending of her ignorance of their culture—albeit she did speak a little Czech, but had to pretend not to, for the sake of her cover. Ryan still had to think she was the sweet and rebellious rookie; at least until she got the job done. 

A few blocks away, contemplating the clear, blue sky also, Jack caught himself appreciating the view for longer than he intended. The small things were ever the anchor he needed to keep moving forward, especially in this line of work. Whenever he was on a mission, time went by in a rush, and the only way to alleviate that feeling was to focus on the here and now. Nature could calm him down like nothing else, but as he watched the trees moving along with the wind, the green of the leaves slowly merged into emerald eyes he now came to know too well. Putting his hands in his front pockets, he took a peek back at the old building behind him and Mike walked out of it.

“Please, tell me you got us in.” Jack practically begs, watching him come down the stairs. He had been talking to his guy for over fifteen minutes while Ryan waited outside. 

“Did I ever let you down?” He grins, showing his phone with a party invitation on the screen. 

“Don’t make me say it”, Jack beams and nods, checking the time before heading to the car with November right behind. As they get in, he turns on the engine. “Jim’s getting here soon, but I might not catch him. You stay here and brief him on the plan. I can hold my own with Johnson.”

“Just like the old days, eh?” Mike puts on his belt. “The band’s back together.”

“With a new formation, but yeah”, he mutters, driving back to the hotel. 

“Oh, tell me about it”, Jack wants to roll his eyes at the teasing on Michael’s voice again, but doesn’t. “Actually, you don’t even have to. It’s clear you guys are already at it.”

“Stop talking”, Ryan takes a turn, stepping on the pedal. “She’s too much. You might have noticed.”

“Sounds like your type”, Mike snickers, gaining a wry look from Jack. He shrugs, measuring up the hotel as they arrive. “But I’m sure Jim wouldn’t approve. He never does.”

“I don’t care”, Jack says somewhat defensively, getting out of the vehicle with November. They make their way to the elevator and he presses his floor. “I’m not thinking about that.”

“All these years and you still think you can lie to me, Jack”, Mike positions his hands in front of his body with a smirk, the doors closing as they’re going up. “She’s into you, though. I could feel the tension.”

Jack scoffs in disbelief at his words, his face heating up. “Please, stop talking.”

“You know, it’s none of my business…”

Jack nods impatiently, not looking at him. “It isn’t.”

“But you should go for it. Friendly advice”, Mike gives him a look before they head towards the room. They stop in front of the wooden door as he finishes, “you can thank me later.”

Ryan displayed another eye roll at Michael and got inside, finding nothing but an empty and unmade bed. He stopped in his tracks and pushed Mike down when someone stepped out of the bathroom with a machine gun. They grabbed their guns simultaneously, taking cover behind a small couch next to the door. Before either of them had a chance to shoot, the gunfire suddenly ceased and the sound of a body hitting the floor could be heard in its place. Jack frowned and stood back up swiftly with November, pointing the pistol now at Randy, who stared at them with a desolate look. Her clothes were bloody and her green orbs filled with tears.

He runs in her direction and takes the girl in his arms, whispering, “what happened?”

Johnson sobs and hides herself into his chest, clinging to him for dear life. “He said he was room service… I just opened the door and…” She gulps, crying copiously.

Jack looks at Mike approaching them, still holding her firmly. “It’s okay. You’re okay now.”

The security guards supposed to protect them were nowhere to be seen, and Ryan made the connection quickly; they must have been paid off, just like the ones in Prague. He swore quietly, rocking Randy’s body to try and calm her down. She was shaking like a leaf, but appeared not to be hurt. The crushing weight of guilt hit him once more as he shut his eyes tightly. He shouldn’t have left her alone again. Brushing her cheeks, he cupped her face and wiped off her tears, causing her to smile. She squeezed his hands, as if to confirm she was really okay, and his heart skipped a beat. But as soon as their foreheads touched, the moment was interrupted by November.

“I thought you were a rookie.” Mike hums in confusion, staring at the dead body in front of them while checking his vitals. The guy had a broken neck and arm. He adds, his brows furrowed in her direction, “where did a rookie learn how to kill a guy with one move like that?”

Randy freezes in Jack’s arms and he feels it instantly. He studies the cadaver for a second before turning to stare back at her. He looks lost at first, but the mere prospect of all his suspicions being true causes him to take a step back. He inquires, demanding an explanation, “Johnson?”

She stands there paralyzed, and eventually raises her hands slowly, as a sign of surrender. Ryan points his gun at her again in the blink of an eye and her breath hitches. “Jack, please…”

“Who are you?” Mike chimes in, as his friend’s too shaken up to say anything. His gaze is hard and menacing, nothing like the lighthearted gleam of this morning.

Johnson closes her eyes, shaking her head. “Jack…”

“Who the fuck are you?!” Jack snaps, pressing the barrel of the pistol to her forehead, his hazel orbs now glistening with tears.

Johnson’s desperate face turned into a cold one all of a sudden and she disarmed him easily, pointing Ryan’s glock right back at him. He looked at the girl shocked and hurt, but lifted his arms up in reflex. They stayed in that position until Randy sighed when Mike aimed his own weapon at her. She dropped the firearm and unloaded it masterfully, throwing the rounds on the ground whilst glaring at Jack.

“I’m not your enemy.” She spits, her voice strained with anger. With that, Johnson storms off.

November still tries to go after her and Ryan steps in front of him, holding his shoulders. “Let her go. We got a job to do.”

Mike watches as she gets into the elevator down the hallway and snorts, “well, you did say she was too much.” 

♡♡♡

Jack walked into the event with grace, making the bar his first stop. Mike kept humming a song in his earpiece, but it didn’t bother him as it should, since his mind was elsewhere; lost in blonde locks and lying green eyes. He had no idea where Randy had gone to, and aside from not wanting to think about it now, his bitter side also wouldn’t allow him to care as he did before. She wasn’t some helpless chick doing a brave thing for her principles, after all, like he initially thought. Johnson had her own interests and her own set of skills—which he obviously didn’t know anything about—to achieve them. She’d be fine without him.

“Here he comes”, Ryan mumbles as Jones appears in the VIP section upstairs, surrounded by security and other people he assumed were his associates. He drinks his glass of whisky in one go and keeps his eyes on his target from afar, inspecting the perimeter stealthily. “Please, tell me Jim’s there. We’ll be needing the cavalry soon.”

Instead of Mike’s reply, a familiar voice he hadn’t heard in a few days reaches his ear and Jack tenses up. “Where’s Johnson?” It’s Greer’s first question. No greeting, no nothing. He sighs, trying to think of an excuse not to talk about this now, but his boss is insistent. “You might wanna tell me if you want your cavalry right away.”

“She’s gone”, Ryan growls, not sounding as casual as he would’ve liked to. He strolls towards a group of women and smiles charmingly at them, blending in. They quickly make a gesture for him to come closer and he obliges, muttering on his way, “she left yesterday.”

There is a pause, then Greer mouths, “what happened?” 

“She’s NSA”, he says amidst another deep sigh, forcing a grin when one of the girls pulls him to dance.

Jim didn’t respond and Jack went along with the brunette, always maintaining Jones in his rearview. He wasn’t aware if Greer was too surprised to say something or just didn’t care—seeing as he had been the first one to tell him Randy was only as important as the information she held, anyway. As long as she kept feeding them her intel, whatever happened to her afterwards was irrelevant to the agency. As far as anyone knew, an employee from Logistics should’ve never been on the field with them in the first place. And even in the face of Johnson secretly working for another organ entirely, which was the case, whilst representing a conflict of interests, Ryan reckoned she had been useful enough. At the end of the day, that’s all that mattered. Maybe she’d try to stop him from getting Jones just to put the credit on the National Security Agency’s office, but they would still get Jones. She’d serve her purpose, either way.

As soon as Randy left the hotel, Jack dialled up a nerdy kid in Langley, Josh, who happened to be a self-proclaimed fan of his and asked for a small favour. All the facts he had about Johnson was the Californian accent—unless she was that good at her job, going as far as creating such a round persona for her cover—and a nearly faded tattoo she had on her lower abdomen: 345-27-720. Ryan saw it for the first time when treating her wound, but thought nothing of it. Everything about her appeared so innocent, it went unnoticed. Now, remembering the way she aimed his own weapon at him without hesitation, he felt a bit proud of his photographic memory. 

It was a long shot, still he tried. And the results of the background check didn’t disappoint as they came just minutes before he had to leave for the party. According to California’s military records, the social security number belonged to a Miranda J. Brooks; white, American born, 26 years old, Second Lieutenant with a bachelor’s degree in Strategic Intelligence. The only catch was: Brooks was officially dead for over six years now. The death certificate only mentioned she was killed in combat somewhere in Afghanistan. She had no close family except her grandmother, Mary Brooks, who lived alone in Arizona. And the only thing he could register listening to Josh vomit all of that on the phone was how well she pretended to be such a clueless, defenceless girl while having this background. It only made his admiration for her stronger. And Jack hated it.

He somehow learned about that NSA program a few years back, but didn’t dig deeper on the matter. It wasn’t in their policy to have field agents capacitated in combat—which had been the reason why people in there butt heads with CIA operatives in the past, many a time. So, they allegedly started recruiting deserters and otherwise discharged soldiers to power their own task force, an effort not to be so dependent on the FBI or the State Department anymore. And while Ryan wasn’t sure if it was even a legal practice, he wasn’t a lawyer, therefore that part didn’t concern him. What he couldn’t figure out was why Brooks would fake her own death for this, or have her death faked by the agency itself. Besides, there was no record of a discharge anywhere. It didn’t add up and as soon as Jones was out of the picture, Jack would go looking for answers.

“Wanna go upstairs?” The woman dancing with him grins drunkenly, grabbing back his attention. 

Ryan wrinkles his nose involuntarily when the smell of alcohol hits his face and pulls away politely, faking an apologetic expression. “I’m taken, sorry.”

The woman huffed and pushed him, stumbling back to her friends. Jack watched in silence and frowned as his eyes caught a glimpse of Jones disappearing through a hallway with his men. He warned Mike of his position and followed them suit, the adrenaline already pumping into his veins when he came up the set of stairs and stepped into a quieter area. Ryan took out his gun and pointed it to the ground, sneaking after the terrorist from a safe distance. Hiding behind a wall, he checked his rounds and looked ahead, running back the strategy in his mind.

“Nice suit”, a smooth tone startles him and he holds the pistol at the direction of the sound, gulping faintly when his gaze meets Randy’s—or rather, Miranda’s. 

“What are you doing here?” He lowers his weapon, dragging her behind the wall with him. She’s wearing her usual clothes, and he almost wants to scold her for not even trying to act the part now. When she only smirks in response, Jack tightens his grip around her arm. “Stop playing games, Brooks. I already know everything.”

“You’re so predictable”, she chuckles and harshly shrugs him off, albeit her beam stays. Randy looks up, pretending to be in thought, “although, I didn’t think you would let me go so easily. I thought you’d fight for us, Jackie.” She says dramatically, then laughs.

Ryan’s scowl grows deeper, and he snarls, “Look, I don’t know what your angle is, but if you fuck this up, I’m coming after you next. I don’t care who you work for.” He holds her wrist forcefully and she can’t contain her own glower, trying to shake him off again, this time unsuccessfully. “I’ve had enough of your bullshit.”

“Have you, now?” Johnson hisses and lifts her chin defiantly, his hot breath reaching her cheeks as his nostrils expand in pure rage. “If you were being honest, you’d have reported me to your superiors last night. You didn’t.”

“I have more important things to do”, he grits his teeth when she raises a brow, clearly not believing a word he says. “Now tell me what you’re doing here. I’m not gonna ask again.”

“I told you, I’m not your enemy”, Randy takes a deep breath, her features finally softening. Jack’s grip is looser now, but he keeps glaring. She sighs and tilts her head, cooing, “I know you’re mad at me for lying to you, Jack, but this is my job. You of all people should understand.”

The worst part was he did. Jack saw her and felt like staring into a goddamn mirror every time. He truly, genuinely saw her—no matter who the fuck she even was at that moment—and his body acted on its own as he pulled her by the collar of her shirt and devoured her mouth mercilessly. Ryan hadn’t a clue who he was kissing right now, the rebellious rookie or the dead soldier; all he knew was those were the smoothest lips he ever tasted, and he wasn’t letting go just yet. His tongue made its way between her teeth and he heard a gasp before Johnson pushed him against the wall and pressed herself on him, unashamed of who could see them. 

“Jack, focus.”

Jack ignored Mike as his back hit the cold concrete with a quiet thud. His deep groan seemed to only fuel Randy’s desire and she licked his bottom lip, now guiding the kiss. He panted when her skilful hands dropped to his pants and in a sudden glimpse of clarity, Ryan grabbed her wrists to stop her, but with no brute force this time. She pulled away from the kiss to give him a playful look, her chin completely red with lipstick as she tried to catch her breath, and he wiped his own face unconsciously. They both stared at each other for two seconds before bursting out laughing. He placed his free palm on her hip, bringing her body flush to his again. 

“Jack?”

November’s voice sounds like white noise as Johnson hums smugly, “okay, big man.” Jack’s flustered features cause her to giggle and she opens her mouth to speak again, then shuts it at once when a few men carrying rifles appear in her vision, observing them from afar. 

Ryan’s eyes follow hers and he tucks Randy behind him instinctively, turning off the safety on his glock. “If you have a gun on you, now’s the time to use it.”

“You don’t really think we can take them? We’re outnumbered, greatly”, she scoffs, doing her best to hide his weapon from the bodyguards’ view with her body. She presses herself against Jack and he offers her a puzzled look when her hands carefully put his pistol back into his pants. Johnson brushes her lips on his and he gladly accepts the caress, shivering from head to toe. She whispers, biting his bottom lip, “act drunk.”

“Pfft”, Jack wants to protest that poor excuse of a plan, but it’s too late as the men are now only a few feet away, watching not so subtly. He sighs and palms her butt without warning, getting into character, and fakes a loose smile. “How’s that?”

“Perfect”, she bends towards his touch, kissing him sloppily. Jack squeezes her ass cheek softly in reflex and a moan escapes her. “Jesus…”

“Jack, what the fuck are you doing?!” 

Mike screaming in his piece brings him back to reality and he stares at the ceiling before eyeing her. “I don’t wanna spoil the mood”, Ryan gulps, still rubbing her waist slowly as he tries to get a hold of himself. He clears his throat, “but what’s the endgame here? Take out the voyeurs?”

Randy chuckles and holds his hand, taking him towards the empty hallway again, away from the party. Before they leave, she senses the men are following them. While they stumble side by side surrounded by red painted walls, she mumbles, “there’s a door to your right over there. This is where Jones makes his deals and he’s trying to close one right now with the Russians.”

“I thought you said he gave up on it”, Ryan trails off, maintaining her close to him by wrapping an arm around her waist. 

“Because that’s what I heard, he changed his mind today”, she slows the pace, pushing him to the wall once again with a grin. “I bugged his office while you were away with Mike yesterday, forgot to tell ya.”

“How in the world…”

“And they almost caught me, that was the mess you found”, Randy continues and Jack’s mouth remains agape. She shrugs, pecking him casually, “you play a good drunk, by the way.”

“Were you gonna tell me any of this if we hadn’t figured it out on our own?”, his tone sounds defeated, almost like he’s still hurt. But should he be, really? She said it earlier; Ryan of all people couldn’t judge her for lying. “Would you trust me?”

“Well, I’m telling you now”, loosening up his tie, she puts it around her neck clumsily. “What do you think?”

He smiles. “I think I hate your games, but sometimes they’re fun”, he grabs her by the hair and brings her into another quick kiss.

A loud sound, similar to an explosion, came out of the main room and Randy gasped in surprise, dragging Jack away from all the rubble and the dust. She coughed while running through the wreckage with him, and Jack took it upon himself to protect her face, covering it with his hand. He tried calling for Mike, but he couldn’t hear the answer amidst all the screaming and chaos going on around them. Soon the first shots were fired and not knowing whether it was the police or the terrorists, he took the lead and pulled out his gun as he knocked down the door to Jones’ office, supposedly. They entered the room and were met with the man glowering, his bodyguards ready to open fire. 

Ryan stays alert, aiming his pistol at him and muttering, “Mike, where the hell’s the cavalry?”

Michael snorts, seeming out of breath. “I think your NSA friend can answer that better than me.” 

Jack frowns, shooting a look at Johnson. She appears calm, calmer than she should be in a situation like this. However, just as he’s going to question her about Mike’s affirmation, Randy takes out her gun at last, but doesn’t aim it at anyone. He furrows his brows, “care to fill me in here?” 

“It’s very nice to meet you, Dr. Ryan”, Jones chimes in with a heavy accent, eyeing Randy for a moment, solemnly. “And nice to see you again, miss Johnson.”

“You know each other?” Jack blinks, holding his weapon tightly, his knuckles becoming white. He turns off his safety, now raising his voice, “someone better tell me what’s going on here or I’ll shoot, I swear to God.” 

Jones made mention of speaking up again and a door behind him opened to reveal a tall blonde with two other men surrounding him. Randy knew that was her chance and took the shot without so much as a second thought, hitting the stranger on the forehead. Everyone stood shocked, except Jones. The terrorist’s guys yelled at Johnson to toss her firearm and with one hand gesture coming from him, they went silent. She eventually lowered her pistol and sighed, studying the pool of blood around Viktor’s bald head before she took a look at Jack, who seemed as confused as he had been the day prior. 

Johnson approaches Jones and nods, her expression serious. “Thank you. You’re free to go now.” 

Jack widens his eyes and quickly steps between them, still pointing his weapon at him. “What the hell are you doing, Randy?!”

“I’m sorry, Jack. That was the deal.” The girl hugs her own body and the Czech police finally appear, screaming at everyone to lower their guns. “I’m sorry”, Randy glances at him one last time with a hurt look before she leaves and Jones and his men are cuffed and taken away.

“Jack, are you okay?”

Staring at the dead body still on the ground, Ryan places his hands on his hips, in a pathetic attempt to process what just happened. He stands there for a few seconds, then turns around to step out of the building. “Please tell me she wasn’t in on it, Mike.” He begs in a murmur, measuring up the destruction caused by the explosion earlier. “And where’s Greer, too.”

“I’m right here, Jack.” Jim sighs on the other end. “Don’t worry, Johnson’s not compromised. She was just following her orders.”

“Which were?” He kicks off some dust, finding his tie under a broken block of concrete in the hallway. It must have fallen off Randy as they ran. 

“Catching Viktor Vasiliev.” Jack walks among the damage with a sour face, closing his eyes when he finds the woman he danced with earlier that night. She’s dead. Greer adds, “he deals in chemical weapons and was the one behind the Prague bombings all along. Jones was her informant.”

“Catching?” Ryan deadpans. “She killed him, Greer.”

“Those were her orders…”

“You knew about all this.” Ryan reckons, with a more consternated tone as he cleans up the dust off his tie and gets out of the main room—or what’s left of it—, trying not to think of the medics tending to the dead bodies as he passes. “You knew it and you didn’t tell me.”

Jim grunts, “I only found out when I arrived here and the NSA director gave me a call explaining everything. You already had your plan, Jack, and I know you well enough to say with confidence that you would have gone with it anyway. No matter what I said.” 

He scoffs, shaking his head at Greer’s words even though he can’t be seen. Reaching the sidewalk, Jack sees Randy is talking to a police officer from a distance. She’s laughing at something he’s saying while Ryan purses his lips, unable to take his eyes off her figure. “Now what?”

“Now we’re going back to Langley. Our job here’s done, we helped as we could with manpower, but the intel was solely NSA’s. It’s their case now.”

“It has always been.” There’s bitterness in his words, and his scowl is inevitable when he remembers everything. All the lies. “What about Jones?”

“He’s coming with us. He made a deal.”

Jack sighs, looking down at his shoes. “And Johnson?”

Jim pauses. Ryan watches as Randy disappears in a police car without looking back, and he can’t ignore the lump in his throat when the answer comes in his ear, “Johnson who?”

♡♡♡

Randy’s always been in love with Arizona. There was just something about the quietness of the desert, and the way the roads stretched endlessly when driving back home. She hadn’t seen her grandmother in such a long time. A real nice scolding would be the first thing waiting for her as soon as Johnson opened the door to her granny’s trailer, she just knew it; yet it only added to her anxiousness to finally seeing the iconic “welcome to Phoenix” sign on the side of the road. 

Singing a tune along with the radio, she thought back to what she left behind in Europe a week ago. Deciding to quit had been a big step for her, but she was never happier to make a decision. She’s always hated jetlag, anyway. And whenever Johnson saw Jack again, if ever, she would just have to thank him for indirectly leading her to discover this. Turns out the adrenaline wasn’t doing it for her anymore. And albeit it was all she had known until that point in her life, maybe it’s time for a change. Prague taught her as much. Even through the moments of tension, somehow connecting to some ex-Marine’s need for the hustle of going after the bad guys made her notice that deep inside, she was tired of it herself. That didn’t mean switching to “normal”—hell no. 

Quieter, mayhaps. 

A deep sigh escaped her lips and she shook her head at no one in particular, rolling down her windows and smiling as the wind hit her face. Reciting the lyrics to the song a bit louder now, she turned the volume all the way up and stepped on the pedal, patting her door from the outside to follow the beat. Love’s never worked out for her even as Miranda Brooks back in the day. So there was no surprise on her part when the brief romantic getaway with Jack Ryan had a tragic ending—and by tragic, she meant not being physically able to say goodbye to him, face to face. “I hope you’ll understand someday”, was the email Randy sent, and off she went to the States, in a flight separate from his. 

With Jones now in custody—his deal was merely to reduce his sentence, since he did actively help plan other bombings before deciding to do the right thing after Prague—, everything should be fine. Except nothing felt like it, not to Randy. Being jobless and alone was a new thing, so she reckoned it was just a matter of adjusting. Taking a peek at herself in the rearview mirror, the girl thought of changing her hair. The last time she’d been a brunette was prior to enlisting. Another deep sigh left her throat as she rolled the window back up and turned off the radio. 

Who was she kidding? 

No amount of pretending not to care would save her from feeling like the worst person in the world. The whole thing with Ryan was just too fucking much, funnily enough, even for Johnson. Which was beyond her in itself, because lying to people came easy for her, it had to, since it was what she did for a living. But reminiscing about the disappointment in his eyes when she killed Viktor in front of him made her stomach turn every time. How did she come to consider his opinion of her that much? Randy had no clue. Still, she stubbornly persisted in the idea that everything happened as it should have. She accomplished her mission and Jack accomplished his, too. She was well and breathing, after all. He did his job. And without being deceitful, unlike her. 

“You bitch!” Granny exclaims as soon as she spots her granddaughter’s car on the road. She’s in front of her house, wiping her hands with a kitchen cloth as she comes down the little steps before Randy even pulls up.

Laughing out loud, Johnson gets out and runs toward her, squeezing the old woman in her arms. “Granny! Oh, God. How I missed you. You look so beautiful.”

“Liar!” She chuckles, but her eyes are filled with tears. Staring at the rusty pick-up truck behind them, Mary shakes her head in disapproval. “I can’t believe you’re still driving that piece of shit, Miranda. That’s why you never visit your grandmother anymore! You’re probably afraid it’s gonna explode on the way.”

“Shut up, she’s family”, Johnson giggles and kisses her white hair, still holding her close. The scent of home made her heart flutter in her chest. She teases, “c’mon, I’m hungry. You better have made me pancakes!”

“Oh, he did!” Mary hums happily, opening a grin from ear to ear, and Randy raises a brow in inquiry. She shrugs, walking to the trailer along Brooks. “Your friend. He said you were gonna meet him here.”

“My friend?” The girl frowns and touches the gun under her jacket automatically, but as soon as she takes it out, her alert eyes spot the so-called friend sitting on the little couch, sipping a coffee, and stops in her tracks. “Jack?” Johnson breathes out, astonished.

With a shaven face and a sweet smile, Ryan blinked slowly at her. Her knees suddenly went weak and she took a step back, trying to take in his presence. It hadn’t been so long since she last saw him, yet it felt like an eternity. He wore a baby blue shirt and some jeans, and her mind took note of how casual he looked out of his work persona. Her mouth stayed agape as she searched for the words to speak. They all ran out on her. 

“You don’t look happy to see me”, Jack finally murmurs in amusement, causing Mary to exchange a knowing look with him as he stands up, putting his hands in his front pockets. “How are you, Randy?” 

“I’m…” She trails off, even more baffled by his soft and amicable tone now. She really thought he hated her guts. “Jack, I…”

“She’s better now, dear, that’s for sure”, granny chimes in before she can finish, doing a thumbs up. 

Randy’s cheeks go red and she widens her eyes. “Granny!”

“What? I’m old, but I notice these things, Miranda. You like the boy.” Mary smiles and now Jack’s the one blushing and laughing awkwardly. “And he likes you too, for that matter.” After giving Johnson another one of her teasing looks, she points outside and pats Ryan’s shoulder softly. “I’m gonna leave you two alone now. You go talk and make up, otherwise there’s no pancakes for nobody.”

Randy can’t hold back another laughter as her granny steps out of the trailer with the tray full of their breakfast. She’s really not kidding. Glancing at Jack again, he’s still slightly flustered, crossing his arms while raising a brow. Johnson squints, “what?”

“An email? Really?” He asks, his expression wry as he sits back down, resting his elbows on his knees. It’s almost comical how big he looks in that position, especially seated on her grandmother’s small couch. “A text would’ve been warmer.”

“I didn’t wanna hurt you again, Jackie”, even though she tries to make light of it, there’s a sincerity to her words that’s hard not to notice. Taking a seat beside him, Johnson leans back and sighs. “You know, I quit the agency.”

He figured as much, especially because Greer seemed a little sad when questioned about Randy while they had dinner last night. Ryan smirks, not wanting to miss the opportunity, “which one?”

Johnson snickers and nods, comprehensive of his sassiness. “Both, actually. I’m a civilian now.” Looking down at her boots, she bites her lips in thought. 

His orbs fall to her lap, his voice going lower, “why?”

“I miss my granny”, Randy smiles and shrugs, tilting her head. He hums along and she comes a little closer, resting her chin on his shoulder. Jack sniggers, his hand flying to her knee in response. “How about you, why did you come here?”

Jack paused and his breath hitched. He should’ve seen the question coming, but somehow didn’t prepare for it. Why did he come, really? It was lost on him, if he was being honest. There were a lot of points left unexplained about her that still bugged him; like the illegal task force run by NSA, or even why Johnson was pronounced dead and given another identity when she hadn’t even been discharged. What did she do while working undercover for two national organs at the same time, exactly? What were her real motives, her ideals, her drives? Ryan knew this was his chance, perhaps the only one, to clear things up with Randy. However, with green orbs watching him expectantly, his common sense turned into goo. 

“To say goodbye, properly.” Jack’s aware he sounds a lot huskier than necessary, closing his eyes when her face comes nearer. He stammers, gazing at her intensely, “you think I’m allowed that much?” 

She clicks her tongue in jest, giving a head shake. “Jim’s not gonna like it.” 

“Greer gave me the rundown on Randy Johnson.” The corner of his lip curls up as Jack goes in for a tender kiss. He whispers, pulling her into his arms, “he never said anything about Miranda Brooks.”

Randy’s grin got bigger as she let herself be held by him. Much was unsaid between them, but in her experience, there wasn’t a thing in this world that couldn’t get sorted out through a nice chat and some pancakes in sunny Arizona. Besides, who was to say the change she needed in her life wouldn’t be brought by Jack Ryan in his shining armour?

#jack ryan x reader #tom clancy's jack ryan #tom clancy's jack ryan x reader #john krasinski x reader #john krasinski #jack ryan x female oc #tom clancy's jack ryan x female oc #jack ryan

[princesstaeille]

L’appel du vide

summary: doyoung experiences the “call of the void” multiple times during the week. until he decides to answer.

genre(s): body horror, psychological horror, angst

warning(s): violence, blood/gore, murder, thoughts/descriptions of self-harm, dissociation (pls let me know if there are more)

wc: 2.9k

notes: first (writing) post! also my first time writing horror! if you enjoyed reading, pls like/reblog and comment! thank you xxx

“I think we need more bread,” Taeyong says as he peers into the fridge. He gives the inside another cursory glance before shutting its doors and heading to the island. “Oh! And milk. And eggs.” 

Doyoung scribbles each item onto a notepad and silently nods along with Taeyong’s endless list of groceries. He pauses for a moment to think about what he’s writing and notices that most things on the list are just snacks and not meal ingredients. Typical Taeyong.

“What about for dinner?” He cuts Taeyong off only to see his eyes light up with excitement.

“I was actually thinking about that last night!” Taeyong smacks his fist into his palm. “I’ve been craving kalguksu lately, or steak! Taeil suggested that the other day and I’ve been thinking about it ever since…” He continues to talk animatedly about everything he could eat, with stars in his eyes and a faint streak of drool dribbling down his chin.

Doyoung begins writing again after watching Taeyong bemusedly. He pauses when too much ink leaks from the pen and bleeds onto the notepad, leaving behind a nasty black splotch that slowly spreads. He frowns and inspects the tip of the pen, fully covered black. It stares back at him, an empty abyss, and Doyoung can’t help but drive it into his right eye, twisting and turning. The sickening squelch of fluids and blood grows louder in his ears, but he can’t make himself stop. Hot tears stream down his face. He continues to sink the pen deeper, tangling the body between nerves and tendons—

“Doyoung?”

He’s still looking at the tip of the pen, fully covered black, but nothing stares back. 

“Are you okay?” Taeyong’s brows furrow and his eyes flit between Doyoung and the pen. “Is there something wrong?”

It takes a second for Doyoung to fully come back to his senses. He blinks and shakes his head. “No, the pen just leaked a little.” He wipes the excess ink off the tip and continues where he left off. “First time that’s happened.”

There’s a pause before Taeyong’s unassuming smile returns. “Were you offended that it bled on you?” He laughs as if it’s the funniest thing. 

It isn’t, not to Doyoung, anyway, but Taeyong’s laughter is contagious, and he can’t help but smile. 

“Get this one!”

“No way! This one’s better!”

“That one tastes like cardboard.”

“You taste like cardboard!”

Doyoung looks away from the bickering and glances out the storefront window. The sky is colored with drab grays and gloomy clouds that seem to hold the weight of the world within them. It’s going to storm soon, he thinks; we should leave before it gets too bad. When he turns back, he finds that Mark and Donghyuck have settled on which ramen to buy and have shifted their squabbling to which ice cream flavor is better, despite not being in the frozen aisle.

Grocery shopping carries on like usual—the boys see something that wasn’t on the original list, get sidetracked, and somehow end up with ten times the items they were supposed to get— it ultimately takes forever. Doyoung notices the raindrops gathering on the storefront window and, if he tunes out the chatter, can faintly hear them hit the metal roof. He hears something else as well, a distant ringing, and glances around the aisle to see if anyone’s phone is going off. But there is no one except him and the boys, and he concludes that shopping has, once again, given him a headache.

Checking out is hell, but Doyoung finally steps out of the store. The plastic bags weigh him down and threaten to cut off the circulation in his fingers. Cool wind and rain greet him. 

They sprint back to the van in a vain attempt to avoid getting drenched; somewhere along the way, it becomes more of a game as Taeyong and Yuta squeal and laugh as they race. Doyoung hears the ringing again but doesn’t want to be a killjoy. He smiles a tight-lipped smile.

As soon as all the groceries are loaded into the trunk, they escape into the safety of the van. Doyoung reaches for the door handle and catches his reflection in the window. He doesn’t think about how he lets go of the handle after opening the door halfway or about how he smashes his fist into the window and sends millions of shards against his skin that tear into his flesh and leave behind delicate little cuts. The reflection is gone; all that remains is a gaping hole, his arm its center, and little beads of red dribble down to his fingertips and drip off onto the beige leather seats. Rain pools on him and runs off to mingle with scarlet pearls. It is too cold to feel—

“Doyoung! Hurry up and get in. You’re letting in all the rain!”

He no longer sees himself in the window but the mildly annoyed looks of his brothers. He is still holding onto the door handle, his fingers slightly numb from the rain. “Sorry.” Doyoung shakes his head and slides into the driver’s seat. He puts the van in drive and grips the steering wheel, looking straight ahead to avoid Taeyong’s apprehensive stare. The ringing is much louder.

Taeil places another carrot onto the cutting board just as Doyoung finishes cutting the previous one. He leaves to check on the broth that fills the kitchen with warmth.

Cutting the vegetables is dull, making it easy for Doyoung to get lost in his thoughts. He wonders what Taeil is cooking and realizes he never asked when he offered to help. He imagines how tasty it will be if the smell alone is enough to make his stomach growl. As Taeil returns to place another handful of vegetables beside the cutting board, Doyoung sighs a bit, tired of all the monotonous chopping and the feeling of his fingertips growing numb from the cold, dampness of the vegetables.

He is halfway through cutting an onion when the ringing begins. It is clear and sharp, so loud it makes his brain rattle. Doyoung’s hands fly to his ears as he lets out a pained hiss. The knife clatters onto the countertop, but he can barely hear it. He struggles to focus on the blade. Get a hold of yourself, his thoughts scream. His hand shakes as he works. 

The sound makes such a simple task so laborious. So much effort put into chopping, cutting, slicing. Doyoung is almost mesmerized by the knife; he watches stainless steel disappear and reappear with each seamless cut. He is lost in its rhythmic pattern, simultaneously ignoring and in tune with the incessant buzz in his eardrums. The blade moves on its own and speedily chops up whatever vegetables remain in its path, except it’s too fast, too efficient, and speeds up as the ringing grows louder and tramps its way to the front of Doyoung’s mind. The blade skips over the last carrot and sinks its edge into his skin. It cuts until it hits bone, then saws at it before slicing out cleanly. His fingers lie splayed on the cutting board, unable to move or stretch, pathetically twitching. Mismatched lashes overlap on the back of his hand while the blade works at his wrist, which drowns in red and dyes the wood stunningly—

“I, uh, I think I’ll take it from here.”

Doyoung feels the knife being taken from his firm, cold grasp and finds Taeil at his side again. Concern swims in his eyes as he gives another gentle tug on Doyoung’s wrist. Let go, they plead. 

When his grip finally relaxes, Doyoung notices just how tightly he has been holding on. “Sorry,” he mutters and steps out of the way.

Taeil looks him over a second time; his eyes linger until he’s decided that Doyoung is okay-ish. He wordlessly cuts the rest of the vegetables. 

Doyoung watches for a moment or two before shifting his gaze to his hand, which is fully intact. No cuts, no mangled fingertips. His wrist connects to the rest of his arm. What remains is an overwhelming numbness and pounding headache.  His mind has quieted.

A knock at the door draws Doyoung out of his reading. “Come in.”

Taeyong pokes his head in through the slight opening. His large brown eyes land on Doyoung. “You busy?”

“Not really.” Doyoung sets his book aside. “What’s up?”

Taeyoung takes a tentative step inside the bedroom and sits beside Doyoung. He folds his hands in his lap and glances curiously around the room as if it were his first time seeing it. But Doyoung notices how he wrings his hands and bounces his leg and exhales slowly through one cheek. 

He cocks a brow. “Is there something wrong?”

“Are you okay?”

Taeyong’s blurt startles both of them and he rushes to clarify. “I-I just mean, you’ve been acting a little strange. Not like yourself.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “You’ve been spacing out a lot lately, and it doesn’t look like you’re getting enough sleep. Sometimes I’ll look at you, and you seem…terrified, like you’re seeing something we can’t. And I want to help, but you look so far off that I don’t know what to do.”

He can’t believe he had been so obvious, not that he was doing much to be subtle. Doyoung listens in awe at Taeyong’s concerns, both comforted and embarrassed. He didn’t want to worry his friends with his nonsense. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” 

“Don’t just say that to shut me up.” Taeyong shakes his head. “I’m really scared, Doyoung. I’m not the only one. Taeil’s noticed too. You aren’t acting like yourself,” He stresses, “I thought that time in the kitchen was just a one-off thing, but you acted the same way at the store. And then, while making dinner, Taeil told me.”

Does everyone just go around talking about how strange I am?

“We’re only worried because we care.” Taeyong sighs again; it leaves him shakily. “We don’t want you to get hurt. We don’t want anything to happen to you.” 

Doyoung knows what he’s insinuating. 

“God, you two really are a pair,” Doyoung says under his breath and chuckles. “I’m fine, I really am. You’re right about the sleep thing, though. I’ll try to get more if it makes you feel better.”

“Yes!” Taeyong nods furiously. “Get as much sleep as you can. Don’t you know how important it is? I heard lack of sleep can make you hallucinate and all sorts of things. And water! Drink lots of water, too! It helps the blood circulate and the brain work and—”

Doyoung nods along to every word Taeyong says despite tuning it all out. 

He promises to get more sleep, and he does try. He tries to keep his mind busy, avoids gazing off into nothingness, and ignores the ringing that always returns whenever he closes his eyes. He tries, but it is overpowering.

Doyoung tries not to bang his head against the wall in the shower until it splits open and colors the water. He doesn’t jump out the window and blackout upon impact when trying to get some fresh air. He resists pouring burning candle wax onto his bare skin and letting it fuse to him. He tries and tries and tries until he tires of trying.

 

His head is splitting. 

Desperate to free itself of this agony, his brain hammers against the inside of his skull. Doyoung only wishes he could rip it open if it meant stopping the unceasing ringing in his ears. Over and over, it rhythmically plays and misses not one beat. Today, it is worse than ever. The moment he opens his eyes, he feels it pounding behind them, making his vision shaky. He contemplates closing his eyes and going back to sleep, but how could he when the shrill hum makes his blood and bones vibrate? 

When Taeyong invites him out to go shopping, he is delighted. It takes him out of his mind, away from the droning, and thrusts him into the real world. The real world, where everything is vibrant and loud, almost loud enough to drown out the ringing. Almost.

Shopping quickly loses its appeal. Especially when shopping turns into shopping and eating, shopping and eating and walking around aimlessly, shopping and eating and walking around aimlessly and trying to ignore the ringing but being too interested in what it has to say.

Doyoung shifts from foot to foot as they wait at a crosswalk. Cars rush past, similar to the thoughts in his head. 

Yuta and Johnny stand in front of him, lost in their own conversation. 

One thought slows amongst the others. The cars do not. Doyoung doesn’t push Yuta into the street. He only stares at his outstretched arm. 

The car ride home finally arrives. Doyoung piles his aching bones into the backseat of the van and closes his eyes. It is quieter now, and he is thankful.

That is, until someone turns on the radio.

“Oh my God, this is my song,” Jungwoo says from beside him, and he rolls his eyes. 

Karaoke ensues, and all remaining peace is lost. Jungwoo is the loudest participant, the liveliest too, wiggling around in his seat, arms flailing while he sings into his imaginary microphone. 

Doyoung doesn’t know how much more he can take of Jungwoo’s elbow jabbing into his side. His hand reaches out to get his attention, to calm him down, but it almost digs into his sockets and claws out his eyes. He stops before it can, his attention drawn to his hand and thrumming skull.

Jungwoo stares at him with a bemused smile.

He is home, at last. Doyoung finally sits down in one place and stays put. It just so happens to be in Jaehyun’s room. Despite it all, Doyoung is not ready to be in his own company. For hours, with exceptions, it has been quiet. So wondrously quiet. His mind is still, and if he is as well, maybe it will stay that way.

The afternoon is spent through playful banter between Jaehyun, Johnny, Mark, and Donghyuck. Doyoung observes, genuinely glad to be here and not with Taeyong, who whisked Taeil away for another shopping trip. They’re talking about the latest Spiderman movie, which Doyoung has yet to see, so he doesn’t understand all the references and potential spoilers. The jokes they crack about the characters fly over his head, but he smiles, engaged as much as he can.

“How was filming, Mark? Did you do your own stunts?”

“Wha—Oh!” Mark’s signature laugh fills the room as he claps his hands and rolls on the floor below Doyoung.

He winces at the abrupt change in volume, and suddenly his skull is pounding again. Doyoung glowers at Mark and watches him wiggle and squirm like an electrocuted worm. With all this movement and noise for a joke that isn’t even that funny, Doyoung wants to stomp on Mark’s rib cage until it crushes from sheer force because maybe that’ll shut him up. 

He very narrowly misses doing that, though. Because he doesn’t want to hurt Mark. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone. 

Doyoung stands up and mumbles something about getting a glass of water. He leaves so quickly that he misses the confused stares thrown his way.

He splashes cold water on his face, hoping it will bring him back to reality. He drinks a cup of it, too, because dehydration can also cause delirium. Doyoung guesses he had not successfully tuned Taeyong out.

Doyoung sits down on the living room sofa and heaves a sigh. He rests his head in his hands, squeezing out the excess water from the stray strands of his hair. He is alone, something he dreaded only hours earlier. But now, his mind is quiet—no, silent.

It is so beautiful, he could cry. Doyoung feels tears prick his eyes, and he laughs breathlessly, overjoyed and drained all at once.

“Why’d you leave?” 

Donghyuck enters the living room and glances at Doyoung curiously. “Did you get bored of hearing them talk about Spiderman?” He asks as he walks over. He takes a seat beside Doyoung and sighs. “I know I did. I haven’t seen the movie, either.”

Doyoung says nothing.

A sudden burst of energy fills Donghyuck, and he smiles. “Maybe we can watch it together!” He suggests and engulfs Doyoung in a big hug. “Just you and me.” 

It’s just innocent cuddling. Doyoung knows this. But the ringing screams at him. It rips his brain to shreds, shatters his skull, stabs his eyes with a thousand needles. He is numb to any other feeling. He has to make it stop. He needs to make it stop. He must make it stop.

Doyoung doesn’t feel his hands wrap around Donghyuck’s neck.

 He doesn’t feel his fingers strain against his skin. 

He doesn’t feel Donghyuck’s nails claw at his wrists.

He doesn’t feel Donghyuck kicking his legs to free himself.

He doesn’t feel him crushing his lungs.

He doesn’t see the life leave Donghyuck’s eyes. 

Doyoung doesn’t even see them roll back into his skull. 

He lets go. It does not move.

It is over. Relief washes over him. The silence returns. It is beautiful.

Doyoung looks over at his phone. Taeyong is calling. He pushes a limp leg aside and presses ‘answer’.

Taeyong asks him something. He repeats the question over and over until he begins to wonder if Doyoung is there at all. 

Doyoung cannot hear. 

The ringing is too loud.

thank you so much for reading! please leave a like and a comment. reblogs are appreciated too!

#nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct fiction #nct #nct 127 #nct horror #horror #fanfic #writers on tumblr #writing #nct imagines #doyoung #kim doyoung #nct doyoung #nct haechan #haechan #lee donghyuck #nct taeyong #lee taeyong #taeyong #nct angst #angst #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop angst #kpop boys #doyoung imagines #doyoung angst #doyoung scenarios #nct writing

[tsukimon02]

VENT- Will delete later

Sorry for any negativity once again, but I’ll be frank: I have a LOT to unpack and a lot of negative feelings on my mind regarding my experience with G**shin (sorry for weird censoring again, don’t want this popping up in search results) OC X Canon community on Twitter and godawful people I encountered.

This is going to be very vent heavy but I don’t know where else to turn so again, I apologize for negativity and strong use of swearing language, I just gotta get this off my chest because I have so much anger and frustration I’ve been withholding for so long.

Do I miss being on G**shin OC x canon Twitter? Sometimes, yes, I do, because I genuinely enjoyed connecting with other fellow G**shin OC X Canon creators and learning about their OCs and ships. The people I encountered on the other hand, god, I wish I never fucking interacted with.

Long story short, we did become close and formed a little circle but they just ditched me without saying anything. To say I was furious was an understatement, because I genuinely felt betrayed and was triggered because I had been backstabbed in a similar manner from so-called “friends” IRL, multiple times, so I blocked all of their asses then they started acting like a bunch of pissbabies that I did so. Then again, I’m not surprised that they reacted, considering that most of them were barely past minor age (like 18-20 at most) and acted like toxic middle schoolers when things don’t go their way.

What’s worse is that one of said backstabbing bitches got all butthurt that I put their name on my DNI list and they manipulated my friend into messaging me to remove it because “it made them uncomfortable.” That’s the biggest bullshit lie I had ever heard in my life, especially since that bitch knowingly spread a PSA that they knew was full of lies and shit taken out of context about another friend of mine and they basically bullied them out of the G**shin OC X Canon community, and that bitch had the nerve to play the victim and paint my friend as a villain. It wasn’t just this fucking bitch that caused problems.

Another person I had the misfortune of also being friends with also let their friend group bully a friend of a friend out of the community as well because they took his words out of context and painted him as a villain. It gets worse, they straight up accused a 15 YEAR OLD of “copying” their OC just because of a similar color pallete and were shipped with the same character. And ofc they did play the victim card, like what the fuck-

It’s because of these bitches that I no longer felt safe doing G**shin OC X Canon on Twitter and deactivated. I miss sharing and talking about my OCs and ships but the fact that all of those backstabbing bitches are still there makes me uncomfortable. I want to speak up and call those fuckers out, but knowing them, they’ll just play the victim card and everyone will instantly forgive them.

I fucking hate those fuckers and wish I never interacted with them in the first place. I wish them all a Go Fuck Yourself and hate their guts so fucking much.

[berenwrites]

Dreams in the Night - Stranger Things - Steddie, Chapter 4 of 9

Dreams in the Night: But Vampires Aren't an Upside Down Thing!

A/N: Posting early again today, because I don't want to forget since I have a whole heap of work to do 😆.

Summary: Steve has been having nightmares, seeing through the eyes of a vampire like creature in Hawkins as it hunts. He puts the dreams down to past trauma and too many horror movies at Family video. He’s checked and no one’s been hurt, so even Robin agrees. However, his world is about to be turned upside down yet again as the nightmares become far too real.

Tumblr Master Chapter Listing | Also on AO3

For: @lady-lostmind (lady_lostmind on AO3)

Relationships: steddie, platonic stobin

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: ~18600

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: vampire!Eddie, Kas!Eddie, hurt/comfort, bisexual!Steve, bisexual!Eddie, platonic stobin, steddie

This fic is a part of the @steddieholidayexchange

Chapter 4: Follow Through

“So responsive, Stevie,” Eddie whispered, nipping at his butt cheek. “So good for me.”

Frissons of pleasure rippled through him at the praise. That particular kink he had already been aware of, and he groaned into the pillow with abandon.

“Do you like being good for me, Sweetheart?” Eddie asked, kneading the meat of his ass.

He hummed in response.

“I didn’t get that, Stevie,” Eddie said, drawing a thumb over his wet hole, teasing.

“Yes,” he moaned out as need flooded him.

His cock was so hard beneath him, and they’d barely started. He’d never been this turned on in his life.

“Thank you, Sweetheart,” Eddie said, “such a good boy.”

He had no time to let that sink in before Eddie’s tongue was back. That was when he gave up trying to think. He’d never known people did this. Couldn’t have imagined why they’d want to, but he was definitely getting the idea. Spreading his legs further, he let Eddie do whatever the hell Eddie wanted to, just trying his best not to come embarrassingly fast.

Everything Eddie was doing to him seared through him in ripples of arousal and pure pleasure. He was so engrossed in every touch, he didn’t even notice Eddie readying to move things up a gear.

“Oh fuck,” was as eloquent as he could manage when a slick finger slid deep into him in one smooth move.

He didn’t know when Eddie had retrieved the Vaseline, or when Eddie had taken his rings off, because both facts were now obvious, but he hadn’t been remotely away of either until that moment.

“Not quite yet,” Eddie said with a small laugh, “but the way you swallowed my finger, Stevie, it won’t be long.”

Steve wasn’t sure what did it for him more, the sensation of Eddie’s finger moving inside of him, knowing it was Eddie touching him so intimately, or the promise of what was to come. Not that he had long to think about it as Eddie began working him open with focused dedication. One finger became two and all he could do was moan as Eddie took him apart.

When Eddie bent his fingers just so and rubbed a particular place inside of him, his nerves lit up like a Christmas tree and he almost came on the spot. Only biting the inside of his cheek stopped him. The needy whine he let out said it all.

“Such a good boy,” Eddie praised, which really didn’t help.

His cock, trapped as it was beneath his body, throbbed hard and he pushed back against Eddie’s hand in desperate need. He had started this with little idea where it would end up, but now all he could think about was Eddie. He wanted it all and he wanted Eddie to give it to him.

“Greedy boy,” Eddie said with a small laugh, “but I’ve got to get you good and ready, Sweetheart.”

Eddie twisted his fingers again and disconnected Steve’s higher brain functions for a few seconds. What followed were some of the most torturous and wonderful minutes of Steve’s life. At least as far as his baser thoughts were concerned. Eddie worked him open. Carefully, methodically and far slower than Steve’s libido was insisting was right.

Every time he tried to take matters into his own hands and force them on, Eddie would do something that removed his ability to think or do anything sensible at all. At one point Eddie actually bit him on the butt. He felt fangs and everything. All he could do at the time was push his face into the bed and moan like a porn star.

The fact that Eddie kept praising him, telling him how well he was doing, did not assist in him having any control whatsoever. Everything was new, everything was amazing, and he had no thoughts left to care that he was completely at Eddie’s mercy. He had no idea where or when Eddie had learned what he was doing, but, damn, Eddie was good.

“Look at that, taking three whole fingers so smoothly,” Eddie said eventually. “I think you might be ready for me, Stevie.”

He couldn’t agree more. He was so very ready. When Eddie urged his hips up, slipping another pillow under him, he let it happen without question. The change in angle made him feel even more exposed, which he hadn’t realised was possible given what Eddie had been doing to him. The fizzle of nerves made it through the overwhelming arousal for a few moments as Eddie pulled back.

The sound of pants being shed made his breath quicken, but he didn’t look. His heart jumped a beat when Eddie climbed back on the bed and all Steve could feel was skin on skin. This was it, this was the moment he’d been dying for since Eddie first touched him. And suddenly he was anxious.

This time he heard Eddie pick up the jar of lube, heard Eddie’s tight inhale of breath, heard the tiniest moan.

“Ready, Sweetheart?” Eddie asked, moving in behind him and gently spreading his legs further.

“Yes,” he replied, refusing to let the doubts crowd into his head.

He wanted this, even as the first touch of Eddie’s cock against his ass made him tense. Eddie rubbed his back, gently soothing him, relaxing him.

Steve had never felt anything so raw, so powerful as when Eddie first pushed into his body. It burned because no matter how well Eddie had prepared him, it was his first time and Eddie’s cock was very different from Eddie’s fingers, but he didn’t care. In fact, he revelled in it. He moaned and whined, hands splayed against the bed sheets, and took everything Eddie had to give. He felt open and vulnerable, and he had never wanted anything more in his life.

“God, Sweetheart, you feel incredible,” Eddie moaned. “Like you were made to take my cock.”

Everything he had been taught by society, by his parents, told him he should have been humiliated by that, but he wasn’t, he felt liberated instead. He’d never considered himself bisexual before even though Robin had been very happy to explain lots about alternative sexualities, but there was no part of him that didn’t want everything Eddie was doing to him, didn’t want Eddie. He was finding out as much about himself as he was about his new lover.

Eddie held his hips firmly and began to move.

If he had thought Eddie fingering him was incredible, this was on another level. He could feel every inch of Eddie’s cock gliding into him, opening him up and filling him. Thrust after thrust drew more and more noises from him, some he hadn’t even realised he could make.

“That’s it, Stevie,” Eddie purred at him, “let me hear you.”

He’d always been the one in charge, the one guiding what was happening. Letting himself go completely had never been on the cards. But with Eddie there were no expectations, nothing he was supposed to do. With Eddie, he let the planning fly out of his head, living in the moment of sensation and pleasure.

Eddie fucked him slowly, then faster, then slowly again, as if he was trying to pull every kind of reaction out of him over and over again.

Each time Eddie’s cock filled him, his own cock was pushed against the pillows below, alternating between too much and not enough. In the end he just couldn’t take it anymore, pushing his hips up and off, whining.

“All you have to do was say, Sweetheart,” Eddie said, stilling inside him and reaching round beneath him.

At first he didn’t know what was going on. He was too sex drunk to figure it out, until Eddie began to gently urge him up.

The way their bodies moved together had Steve panting as Eddie pulled him to his knees. He felt so full, and a little bit helpless as Eddie held him almost effortlessly, keeping them intimately close together.

“Eddie,” he whispered, even though he wasn’t sure why, but it was the only thing in his head.

“I’ve got you, Sweetheart,” Eddie whispered into his ear. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

Of that Steve had no doubt. Eddie had yet to fail to deliver and when Eddie moved against him, the drag of Eddie’s cock inside him pushed another moan from his mouth. His dick throbbed mercilessly, and his balls felt tight as Eddie slowly, but firmly started to fuck him again.

“Want you to come so hard you see stars,” Eddie told him, sliding over that place that lit him up like fireworks every time, “think you can do that, Stevie?”

He nodded, moaning with every thrust.

“Need some help with that pretty cock of yours?” Eddie asked without letting up for a second.

Steve found himself shaking his head.

“So close,” he confessed breathlessly, “want to … want …”

He couldn’t get the words out.

“You want to come just from this?” Eddie asked, thrusting into him a little harder for emphasis.

“Yes,” he admitted, even though his cock was begging to be touched.

“So good for me,” Eddie whispered in his ear, “gonna come from my cock alone. My big, strong good boy.”

And if that didn’t do it for him. As Eddie fucked into him again, the familiar tightness built some more, before exploding through him, taking with it what little muscle control he had left. He moaned and shuddered, gasping as his orgasm surged from his cock all the way through his body. All coherence vanished as he spasmed around Eddie’s dick. When fangs slid into his neck as well, the pleasure centres of his brain went supernova. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. Everything went white.

He came back to himself lying on his back with Eddie lying beside him, tracing patterns over the scarred skin of his side. His ass wasn’t exactly aching, but he could feel precisely what they had been doing and he never wanted the feeling to go away.

“Back with me, Stevie?” Eddie asked, peppering his shoulder with little kisses as he spoke.

“I passed out?” he asked as he forced his thoughts back into motion.

“Hmmm-hmmm,” Eddie replied, “but only for about twenty seconds. How are you feeling, Lover?”

He took a moment to process the question and decide on the answer.

“Amazing,” was what he went with, since his nerves were still tingling, and the flush of post orgasm pleasure had him in its grasp. “What about you?”

Eddie looked up at him then, eyes dark, but not black.

“Focused,” was the short reply, accompanied by a wicked smile. “You’re intoxicating. Up for round two?”

There was something heady and captivating about the expression on Eddie’s face. Steve found himself nodding before his conscious brain caught up.

“Good,” Eddie said, pushing himself up so he was leaning over Steve, looking down at him, “because when I make you come this time, I want to be able to see that pretty face.”

Steve’s cock gave an interested twitch. He was young, but it was still a bit soon for him to be getting hard again, only his body didn’t seem to have gotten the memo. As Eddie swooped in to kiss him, he couldn’t help wondering what different kind of monster he had unleashed onto himself. Giving in with a moan, he decided it would be a good way to go at least.

End of Chapter 4

On to Chapter 5

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #platonic stobin #vampires #kas eddie munson #vampire eddie munson #eddie lives #fanfic #fanfiction #dreams in the night - steddie