#Goddamnit now I wanna watch more

[mandareeboo]

WHAT NO YOU CAN’T 

Norma, you love this job. You love studying demons. You don’t have to throw it all away. You can request to be put on night shift, or for personal time. You don’t have to just... leave!

[strawhbrrries]

Cowgirl

pairing: dbf!southern!frank castle x afab!reader

summary: a trip to the store with your dad’s best friend ends in a lack of a swimsuit and the feeling of his beard scratching you forever engraved in your mind.

warnings: age gap (reader is 22, frank is 52), use of pet names, dirty dirty thoughts!!!, mention of a divorced dad?, fingering, no real sex, bearded frank <3, no mentions of y/n, no descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 2711 words

author’s note: the line “ride cowgirl” in pyramid by frank ocean inspired this whole fic, which i kinda wanna make into multiple fics?? a story if you will?? anyway, i think this is a huge step up from my last writing piece so please enjoy :)

read the sequel ride, cowgirl !

“I'm telling you to loosen up my buttons, babe.” You sang along to the song blaring from your dad’s speaker, you hijacked it when he went inside to get more beer for him and his friends, swinging your hips and slowly spinning in a circle. Your music was way better than his divorced dad rock music, which you secretly enjoyed, and if you were going to enjoy the get together he was throwing you were absolutely going to play your own music. 

“But you keep fronting.” Tiffany, your long time best friend, sang back into the imaginary microphone in her hand as she pranced around you in a circle. The two of you putting on a performance to the imaginary crowd in your backyard, or so you thought. Twenty feet away, sitting in perfect position across the fire to watch you swing your hips around, was your dad’s best friend Frank.

Frank was only half listening to the conversation between the men around him, he was more focused on the way you danced and how it was making him rethink every decision he ever made and was about to make, his knuckles going white from the grip he had on the bottle in his hand. Sure, he’d always known you were a gorgeous girl but something about tonight was different. The fire barely illuminating your skin softly had him wanting to slide behind you as your hips moved in time with the song, his lips dragging across the skin of your neck before moving to your ear where he whispered promises of what he’d do to you later. He took a sip of the lukewarm beer, watching you for a second more before turning back to whatever bullshit conversation that was going on. It paled in comparison to you. Currently, everything did. 

The summers in Texas were your favorite, the air was never too humid and warmed you up when the wind came through at night, the lightning bugs never failed to show up every night and lit up the trees if you paid enough attention. Truthfully you were biased, but the thing that made them truly the best was having no true responsibilities again and you would always enjoy that, especially when your beloved dad bought your alcohol for three months. One of your favorite perks was the swimming pool, you were either swimming with a few of your friends or tanning on the side but you were almost always found by it. The swimsuits you typically donned weren’t the slightest bit modest, and now wasn’t any different. You were barely covered in a green bikini, the top consisting of two triangles and a string, and the bottoms high cut and covered with a mesh skirt. 

“Castle, how’s work been man? Ain’t heard much bout it ‘n normally ya don’t shut up bout it.” Goddamnit is all Frank thought as your dad dragged him back into the conversation, ruining the imagery in his head. If looks could kill, the one he shot your dad would’ve murdered him beyond recognition. “‘s alright, busy. Always picks up in the summertime. Ready to have some more downtime, spend it with family.” More like with your daughter. 

“I hear ya. Promise ol’ girl over there we’d do some family shit this summer, if business keeps the way it is I ain’t too sure how well I can keep that promise.” Your dad responded, pointing you out to the guys as if Frank hadn’t been oogling you all night. You and Tiff had stopped dancing to the music and instead opted to sitting with your legs in the pool, gossiping about town drama and Tiff’s newest boy of the week. 

“Understandable, if ya’ll need anything just holler at me.” Frank responded, ready for the conversation to be done, ready to continue watching you like a creep from afar. He’d be a creep if it meant staring at you all night, he’d be a creep if it meant a chance to feel your hair wrapped around his hand while he-

“Dad, Tiff and I are going to get snacks from the gas station!” You called out happily, ripping Frank out of his delusion with the angelic smile of yours, walking over to the group of men surrounding the fire. 

“C’mere, I’ll give you my card so you can get some more drinks.” You happily grabbed the card from your dad, bending over to give him a small hug. Frank was no better than the next man, he scratched at his scruff as he admired the way the green of your bikini complimented the tan skin threatening to spill from the lack of support. 

“Frank, can you drive us? It’s dark and neither of us wanna drive.” It was like the perfect opportunity fell right into his lap and he’d be damned if he wasn’t taking it. The smile you were flashing him made him want to get down on his knees and beg, a god he wasn’t sure existed for, forgiveness for what he was about to do. 

“Course darlin’, let me get my wallet.” He looked at your dad who seemed to have no qualms about the situation before getting out of the chair, placing his mostly empty bottle of now warm beer on the ground and following you into the house. 

“I’m gonna go put a shirt on, give me a second.” Up until tonight, much like Frank with you, you hadn’t noticed how attractive he was. Older men had always excited you but this was different. Frank was big, strong, rough around the edges but had that southern hospitality you loved. You couldn’t help but think about how his scruff would feel rubbing against your skin, would it leave redness in its wake? would it help spur your orgasm as he fucked you with his fingers? 

You picked up some oversized t shirt that probably once belonged to your dad and put it on, shaking your head as if it would get rid of the thoughts. 

“Hey, I’m gonna head out. Horrible timing I know! But y’know, boy of the week is calling.” Tiff spoke, her expression clearly apologetic, giving you a hug and promising to make plans for later this week before grabbing her things and leaving.

“So for taking so long, got caught up in my thoughts.” Of you. You smiled softly, suddenly aware of how the sun had brought out freckles you didn’t know he had and how muscular he truly was.

“‘S alright, lets get goin’ ‘for your dad starts wonderin’.” He matched your smile, placing his hand on the small of your back as the two of you walked out of the house and to his truck. You were painfully aware of how big his hands felt, triggering your mind to think about his fingers. You rubbed your thighs together to relieve some of the tension aching at your core, it felt so taboo to lust after a man your dad’s age. Not just his age! His own best friend! 

The trip to the gas station was uneventful, unfortunately, the two of you exchanged conversation like the tension wasn’t thick enough to cut. Like Frank’s jeans were getting uncomfortably tight and your bikini bottoms uncomfortably wet. Like neither of you wanted to jump the bones of the other person.

“Hey, Frank?” You asked softly, trying to gain the courage to ask the question you wanted the answer to.

“Darlin’?” He put the car in park, looking over at you expecting you to call him every disgusting name under the sun for his thoughts about you tonight.

“Do you, uhm…”

“I’m not a mind reader, baby.” At first you thought you imagined the word, that he didn’t actually say it but it was your imagination fueling the growing fire you had for Frank Castle. But he did say it, and he did it on purpose. Testing the waters, seeing how far he could go without making you uncomfortable. 

“Have you ever been with someone younger?” Not the fucking question, idiot. You scolded yourself, you didn’t want to know the answer to this. What if his answer was yes and you were imagining his interest in you, that you weren’t special. 

“No, I uh haven’t. Not yet, anyway.” There he went again, saying things that made you think you were imagining it. Maybe you’d wake up any minute and none of it was real. He could see the wheels turning in your head, you were a smart girl and he knew that. 

You, timidly, leaned over the console of his truck and experimentally ran your fingers through his scruff. You’d never been with a man, much less a man with a beard, you’d only been with what your father classified as boys. Frank leaned into your touch, placing his hand on top of yours and dragging it to his lips. Placing kisses on your palm, keeping eye contact with you. You were having trouble breathing, he was going to kill you. The beautiful hunk of a man was going to be the cause of your death, you’d make sure Tiff had it written on your tombstone. “Death by Frank Castle.”

Frank let your hand drop into your lap, threading his own hand through your hair to grab the back of your head and pull you closer to him. He leaned forward to meet you halfway, eyes scanning your face just taking in your beauty. His lips were made to fit yours, you were convinced, moving in motion with yours. His beard scratching your skin deliciously, his fingers wrapping themselves in your hair, his scent. He was everywhere, he consumed you. 

“Need you, Frank please.” You breathed, pleading with him. “Need you so bad, need to feel you, your fingers.” You carried on, your voice sounding like you were on the verge of tears. 

“Baby, not here.” He spoke softly, committing the way you sounded to memory for him to reference later when he was alone, “I’ll get you off though. Make you cum, all over my seat.” 

His words eliciting a whimper, you’d take anything he was willing to give you. It didn’t matter that anyone could see into his truck at any moment, made the situation so much more intense. He tapped your thigh, signaling he wanted you to open your legs. 

Frank let his fingers dance over the exposed skin your lack of pants left, dragging them up your thighs slowly. Painfully slow. He left open mouth kisses down your neck, occasionally biting and soothing the bite with his tongue. What felt like a decade later his middle finger traced your clothed folds, chuckling into your neck at how wet you were. You bucked your hips at the stimulation, earning another chuckle from the man in the driver’s seat, you were dying to receive some more stimulation from him. At this point, you’d sell a kidney and probably your soul to just have a singular finger inside you. You’d probably sell his soul too.

He dipped a finger underneath your swimsuit, groaning at how wet you truly were and that he was the cause of it all. His dreams were, partially, coming true and he needed to thank the heavens and the stars. Your moans and whimpers were music to Frank’s ears and he’d do anything and everything to keep them coming, to keep those angelic noises from leaving your pretty mouth. The truck was silent except for your noises and the squelch of Frank playing with your pussy.

“‘S wet, pretty girl. All for me? Did I do this to you, baby?” He taunted you, sliding his finger through your folds and swirling your clit as he waited for an answer.

“All for you, promise.” You whined, leaning your head against him, sweat beading on your skin as the car started to heat up from the summer air and the actions being performed. 

Your pleas were answered when he finally plunged a finger inside of you, pulling it all the way out and admiring how it glistened in the light provided by the street light in the corner of a parking lot. He did this a few times, thrusting his finger in and pulling it all the way back out before plunging it back inside of you. His lips found your neck again, moving your head back to the original position it was in, kissing every spot of open skin he could reach. As if he read your mind, he inserted another finger alongside the one already inside. The stretch burned in a way that made you feel alive, made you feel on top of the world. All because Frank’s fingers were inside you. God, his fingers were big. So big it made you think about how right your dad had been to call everyone else a boy and not a man. So big all you could do was think about how big his cock must be, if his jeans were any indication you were in for a real treat. Not here though, stupid stupid gas station stupid truck. Your thoughts soon turned to mush.

His fingers curled right against the spongy spot inside of you, hitting it over and over again, he readjusted his hand to put his thumb on your clit.

“C’mon pretty girl, let go for me.” He spoke low, trailing kisses back up your neck and nipping at your earlobe. 

You could feel the warmth growing in your stomach, the knots forming into bigger knots and then even bigger knots. Could feel the heat spreading throughout your body, your orgasm so close you could taste it. It was right there, his fingers hitting all the right spots and his thumb working wonders on your clit, his scruff scratching your skin and his mouth kissing everywhere. He was suffocating you in all the best ways possible. All you could see, hear, smell and taste was Frank fucking Castle.

Stars. Your vision turned to stars as your orgasm washed over you, your body shaking in the passenger seat as he fucked you with his fingers. Those damn fingers. You couldn’t see anything but stars, for all you knew you had gone to heaven and it was thanks to the magical orgasm given to you at the hands of your new god. 

When you came down from your high, Frank was whispering how well you had done and how pretty you were. He was caressing your thigh and placing kisses to your head. 

“Did so good, gonna get me addicted.” He reached behind your seat and handed you a water bottle, opening it and holding the lid so you could drink it.

“Thank you.” You smiled up at him, that killer smile that got him here in the first place. He truly was going to get addicted to you and he had no complaints about it, could die a happy man tonight if fingering you in his passenger seat is all he gets to do to you. His phone ringing in his pocket brought him back to the situation at hand.

Shit. Both of you thought, remembering what you were supposed to be doing and how it was now an entire forty-five minutes later.

“Hey, ah yeah we’re good. Small fender bender, yeah….to make it all worse the gas station was closed when we got here.” Frank spoke to your dad on the phone, coming up with a lie like his life depended on it and he hadn’t just fingered you to the edge of your life. “Should be back soon, don’t worry man. I’m keepin’ her safe, precious cargo.”

You chuckled softly at his sentence, relaxing completely in the seat and taking a few sips of water, thinking about the future of your relationship with him. Or whatever it was, you made out and he had his fingers inside you but that didn’t mean shit. What if he regretted it and now didn’t want anything to do with you, what if he was too worried about his friendship with your dad?

“Quit thinkin’ too much. We’ll figure out whatever this is, all I know for sure is I need to see you again. And you to ride me, like a fuckin’ cowgirl. Ya hear?”

[mcondance]

maannnn i love a good/shy girl and bad boy trope but that could just be my corruption kink talking…like you can’t tell me fontaine wouldn’t be absolutely obsessed

fontaine would be absolutely obsessed.

he first spots you hanging around with yo-yo, this after they all moved down to memphis, and he’s hooked. you heard about what they did back in the glen and though you’re amazed, you’re also kinda scared cause. . this nigga used to be a drug dealer and he still got them aggressive nigga tendencies 😭😭

so one day bout a week or two after he sees you he tells yo-yo and charles that he wanna get to know you. yo-yo’s face immediately scrunches up.

“her? nah, taine.”

“what you mean nah?”

“she kinda. . you kinda rough around the edges, nigga. you might scare her. she come from a good family. ion want her involved in our shit.” yo-yo laughs, shrugging fontaine’s interest in you off. she thinks her words will turn fontaine off.

but charles smiles from across the room at fontaine as yo-yo goes back to studying, cause slick knows fontaine ain’t giving up.

and he doesn’t. yo-yo should have known better than to invite you over and then not be there when you get to the house. when charles sees you outside he disappears into his room, tells fontaine “taine! that girl you was presssin’ yo-yo bout out there!”

fontaine immediately sets his blunt down and checks his face in the mirror, fixes his chain so it hangs just right and makes his way to the living room to open the door and welcome you in.

“yo-yo ain’ here right now,” he calls over his shoulder, and you peep the gold grills sittin' pretty between his even prettier lips. he plops down on the couch, spreads his legs in a way that has you wondering just when yo-yo was gon tell you about her fine ass friend.

“that’s fine. i’ll jus’ wait out here.”

“aight. you smoke?”

“yeah.”

“stay right here.”

you watch him walk away, watch his thighs in his lil hoochie daddy shorts, watch his walk that draws you in just a little more than already are, watch him gaze back at you one more time before he disappears into his room, something you definitely did not hallucinate.

tearing your eyes away from the space that he occupied before he made his way into his room, you sink back into the couch and take a breath. you cannot be doing this shit. that’s yo-yo’s homeboy. her fine ass, pretty ass homeboy, who offered you a blunt within 30 seconds of knowing you, who’s dick is definitely big, who yo-yo will just have to understand that you want, who’s coming back out of his room with the blunt and handing it to you to puff first.

fontaine sits closer this time, and chills settle all over your body. even with the weed spreading through you, you’re still a little nervous. shy, even, cause you can feel his eyes roaming your body, glued to the exposed skin of your thighs and the gloss on your lips, your hair and your bracelets— you can feel his eyes on you.

“how long you known yo-yo?” fontaine speaks first, passing you the blunt back.

“‘bout a week after y’all came down here. we met a’work.”

“mhm. you seen what we did?”

“yeah. shit was cool as fuck. y’all doin’ that here?”

“maybe. we think we found som’thin like back in the glen. we’on’t know yet.”

“yo-yo told me how y’all saved her, she said you was ready to fuck them up when she got snatched.” you laugh, eyes damn-near big red hearts as you gaze with heavy eyes at fontaine.

“i was. i care ‘bout her,” he shrugs, handing the blunt back to you.

“‘s sweet.” your tongue is heavy now, and fontaine’s a little close, and you know you shouldn’t want to kiss a man like fontaine but you really do want to.

shit.

the blunt’s halfway between your hand and fontaine’s when yo-yo busts through the door yelling “fontaine, nigga i swear to god you better not be in here tryna seduce my girl.” her eyes settle on you, and fontaine, and the blunt, and the smoke in the air and— “goddamnit motherfucker, i told you leave her alone.”

“ian doin’ shit yo-yo. jus’ talking.” he smiles snarkily, golds sparkling, cause everybody in the damn house knows he’s not just talking.

“she right fontaine,” you speak up, though in the front of your mind you wanna give him a chance. but he’s. . different. and you’re nervous. you don’t know if you can fit in with him.

fontaine’s silent. two sets of eyes fall on him.

“‘s whatever.” fontaine gets up, says goodbye and then he’s disappearing into his room.

“you knew fontaine wanted me?”

“yeah. but, you know, that’s fontaine. and you’re you. ion know if you can keep up with him.”

you leave it at that. it’s whatever.

xxx

. . well, it’s not whatever. cause why the fuck is fontaine’s mint green pontiac pulling up beside you on your walk home from work.

“what a gentleman,” you joke.

“had to make up for stormin’ off las’ week. i got you some shit.”

“you’on have to make nothin’ up. yo-yo right. we different.”

“and what that mean? that we can’t get to know each other?”

“gon’ on fontaine. you know what yo-yo said.”

“fuck what yo-yo said.”

you’re silent. thinking. contemplating. do you really wanna fuck with this nigga? you don’t know.

“whatever.” you scoff, though you don’t speed up and you don’t want him to drive off.

“jus’ lemme take you home.” you raise your eyebrows and tilt your head at the implications of his words. “your home.” he clarifies, and all it takes is a sigh and a “home. and that’s it.” from you and he’s hopping out of his car opening the door for you.

the ride to your house is fun. between fontaine’s goated ass playlist and the not-so-small talk y’all make, it’s a dream. fontaine’s not that bad at all. he’s a big-ass softie, but he will fuck someone up if they fuck with something he love.

and you’re not that shy when you’re comfortable, not all nervous when you don’t feel you have a reason to be.

when fontaine drops you off at your house, the air in his car hangs heavy with the unanswered question.

“lemme think about it ‘taine.” you speak before he does.

“okay. i think you cool for real. hope you gimme a chance.” he grabs the bag of snacks he bought you and hops out of the car and walks around the front, opens the door for you and walks you to your front door.

“thank you for the ride fontaine,” you smile at him. you don’t know why, but you grip his face and lean forward, and he’s meeting you in the middle and shit, you’re kissing him and he’s kissing you and your bags of snacks is on the ground, and fuck what yo-yo says cause goddamn his lips feel good on yours.

you both pull away. it’s quiet.

“imma take that as a yes.”

xxx

“thought you was shy.”

you wish you could hit this nigga in his mouth, but you’re currently between his legs with his dick down your throat, swallowing and gagging and looking up at him with teary eyes, your makeup running down your face.

“you ain’t fuckin’ shy. you nasty.”

you are. you’re nasty when you let him cum down your throat, and you’re nasty when you grind on his face, huffing out breathless laughs at the way he eats you out like he needs your taste to fucking breathe.

“taste so fuckin’ good, got a nigga goin’ crazy.”

you’re nasty when you turn around and prop yourself up on your hands and knees, slurring fontaine’s name while he digs so deep in your guts you see fucking stars.

“tried to hold out on me, give me all that shy shit, but you fuckin’ me like this now. i wan’t even tryna hear allat.”

and you are fucking him, good at that.

“knew from the second i seen yo ass. .” he trails off, too focused on watching where you hold yourself on display for his hungry eyes, on where he disappears into you, on the white ring that appears on his dick every time he pulls out just to sink right back in. you don’t speak, too caught up in how good he feels and how he makes you feel secure enough to take what you want.

and you are nasty. it’s only been a week since he drove you home.

xxx

y’all don’t tell yo-yo nor charles, but when yo-yo gets home and you and fontaine are a draped over each other on the couch and charles just smiles when she asks if anything happened, she knows. ain’t shit she can do, though, but shoot fontaine a death stare, one that tells him not to fuck you up. he nods, and she can tell he’s sincere.

[eddiexmunsonlover-archive]

One Step Away From You (Chapter 4)

ExBestFriend!Eddie Munson x PlusSize!Fem!Reader

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Chapter Summary: Your off-handed comment to Jason catches up to you. Before things get out of hand, someone swoops in to your defense. A heart-to-heart ensues. WC: 6.4k Warnings: MDNI. Explicit language. Fatphobia/bullying from Jason. Jason almost hits you. Brief references to toxic family relationships and abuse.

Saturday, September 21st, 1985

The ever so alluring smell of bacon and pancakes invades your senses, stirring you from your slumber. You rub your eyes as you look at the clock on the bedside table. 10:35 am. You slept in, though you can’t say you’re surprised. After the day you had, you must’ve really needed it. You roll out of Steve’s spare bed, making sure to re-make it before you venture down the stairs. 

The smell intensifies with each step down the stairs and into the kitchen, spotting the stack of pancakes and bacon waiting to be picked. Steve is pouring a cup of coffee, eyeing you as you grab a plate and start loading it up.

“Morning, sleepy head”

“Morning, haircut” you respond, taking a quick bite of bacon. Groaning softly in pleasure, “You know, Steve. If you don’t figure out what you wanna do for a career, I think you’d make a great little housewife.” You smirk to yourself as you pour syrup onto your plate. Steve scoffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that. Know any takers?” You laugh with him before you catch a glimpse of Robin sitting on the couch, eating her own plate. 

“Oh, hell yes.” you say excitedly when you see and hear Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? playing on the TV. You quickly scurry over to join Robin on the couch with your own plate. Steve joins soon after, all leisurely eating your brunch and watching Saturday morning cartoons. After you’ve all finished your plates and are relaxing before eventually having to get ready for your work shifts, Steve speaks up.

“So, we gonna talk about what happened yesterday?”

You look between him and Robin, confused. You quirk an eyebrow up at him.

“Uh, what happened yesterday? What do you mean?”

“I mean, something happened yesterday, didn’t it? You seemed a bit…off.”

Goddamnit. If Dustin hadn't learned it from you, you're now sure he learned his ability to read people so well from Mr. Steven Harrington too.

“Did you talk to Eddie?” Robin asks softly.

You sigh, crossing your arms over your stomach.

“I mean, you don’t have to tell us anything. But if you want to, you know we’re here. I’m also just really nosey.” Steve adds, causing a smirk to tug at your lips before you take a deep breath.

“Yeah. I talked to him. Ran into him after lunch, literally. And uh, let’s just say it did not go well. He kinda flipped out on me. But, I kinda deserved it. Aaand, I kinda slapped him. But, he kinda deserved it.” You let yourself laugh a little, taking in their surprised faces.

“So yeah, based on that I don’t think we’ll be friends again anytime soon. At least I can say I tried.” You finish with a shrug.

Robin reaches out and rubs your arm soothingly as Steve looks at you with sympathy and in thought. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N” he sighs, “Maybe just give things some time to cool down, I’m sure he’ll come back around.” He gives you a soft, crooked smile.

“Yeah, maybe. And if not, I’m sure I’ll be okay.” you say, more to yourself than to them.

You pull into your driveway an hour later. You sit there, finishing your cigarette as your eyes linger on the now familiar van across the street through your rear-view mirror. You look longer than you’d like, finally tearing your eyes away to throw out your cig. Cutting off the sounds of Black Sabbath as you turn off the ignition. 

You slowly shuffle your way to the mailbox at the end of your driveway. Flipping through the spam and advertisements when you hear a familiar sound, a skateboard. Your eyes follow the sound, a figure shaded by the sun. You know who it is. If it wasn’t for the skateboard, it’s the flaming aura around her head under the sunlight. A big smile stretches across your face, leaning against your mailbox as she rides closer into view. When she’s close enough to see your face, her eyes widen and she nearly stumbles off her skateboard, eliciting a giggle from you. She stares at you for a second as she comes to a stop, sliding her headphones down to her neck.

“Hey, you.” you say cheerfully.

In a second, she’s running to you, wrapping you in a tight embrace. You feel the shakiness as she inhales a deep breath.

“I’ve been looking all over for you, the ever elusive Red.” You smile as you return the hug, briefly rubbing her back before she pulls back to look at you.

“W-How?” She looks toward your trailer, “You moved back?!”

“Yep, just this past week. I tried keeping an eye out for you at school, then Dustin told me you moved here. Knew I’d catch you eventually.”

Her smile falters ever so slightly at the mention of Dustin.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, it’s a piece of shit but it’s a roof over our heads I guess.” You nod in agreement, pondering how to approach her. If she’s been avoiding the party, you worry one wrong move will send her running away from you too. You decide to go the easy route, knowing you might not get a truthful answer right away.

“You and mom doing okay?” 

“Yeah. She’s either working or drinking most of the time, so” she shrugs nonchalantly, a move you see right through. “But I can take care of myself just fine anyway”.

“Well, if you ever get bored entertaining yourself, just come and give a knock, okay? I gotta get going for work here soon, but maybe we can go out to the drive-in or something soon?”

A small smile tugs at her lips as she nods lightly.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Oh, and you know. If you ever need a ride, I’m already giving the knuckleheads rides home after school and since we’re neighbors, I can just stick them all in the bed and give you passenger seat privileges.” You ramble before noticing the way she begins to awkwardly sway at the suggestion. “Or ya know, I can just kick them to the curb and save myself some gas with just you.” You quickly offer. She forces a small laugh before shaking her head.

“No, that’s okay. It gives me more time to skate anyway.” 

Great, I’ve already messed this up. Just add it to the list…

“Alright, well the offer’s on the table anytime. For anything.” You insist, giving her an out to the conversation as you begin to move back toward your driveway. She only nods in response, before putting her skateboard in place to ride again.

“See you later, Red.” You wave before heading into your trailer to get ready for work.

During the slower phases of the work day, your mind drifts to worries of Max. How she’s really doing, how you should approach her, how to get her to open up to you. It’s a welcomed distraction considering the other places, or people, your mind would be wandering to otherwise. You and Max had gotten fairly close over the summer, you gave her opportunities with and outside of the party to get away from home, from her asshole step-brother. Being the only other girl and older, she often confided in you. Whether it was about her brother, her relationship with Lucas, or the struggles of girlhood, you were there for her. 

Since Billy’s sacrifice to save her from the mall fire and his resulting death, she’s closed off. Isolating from everyone close to her. That happened to be something you’re familiar with. Something that helps you to understand her, something you can use. You know you need to take it slow though. Based on her initial reaction to seeing you, you know she's missed you, and know that connection is still there. There’s just some walls you need to chisel down first.

Take it slow.

That connection is still there.

Just some walls you need to chisel down first…

Those dark curls… chocolate button eyes… cutest fucking dimples you’ve ever seen in your life.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, frustrated with your brain and your heart. Both deeply longing for him… before the shock of pain with the memory of his words hits you.

Just let it go. Move on. He’s not your Eddie anymore.

~

It was bothering Eddie more than he’d ever admit, even to himself. You. Thoughts of you swimming around his head with every emotion he could think of, was bothering him.

After your argument, he felt a bit of relief. To finally say the words he’d been carrying with him these last few years to you. To finally release the anger and pain out onto you. It felt like a weight off his shoulders in the moment. What he hadn’t been expecting was for you to match it, taking the pain and anger you felt in response, right back out and onto him. 

This whole past week you’ve been back has thrown him off. More distracted than usual. More reactive. More irritable. The other boys in Hellfire noticed, taking extra effort to not poke the bull. 

Your argument and slap left him even more distracted and off-balance. You’d thrown him off his game for Hellfire for christ’s sake. Forgetting details for the campaign that he’d otherwise would’ve had memorized, left him referencing his notes. He didn’t exude his usual dungeon master playfulness, animated voice and facial expressions coming out muted. Everyone noticed. Eddie’s own off-balanced performance reflected in his players. Nothing had ever distracted him so much to the point of interfering with Hellfire campaigns. The way Henderson eyed him suspiciously throughout the night almost set him off completely, again. He’d ended the campaign a little early, offering a brief apology and a quick lie to write off his abnormal performance on. He’d spent the rest of the night getting as drunk and high as he could in his bedroom until he passed out. 

Saturday isn’t going much differently for him. Sitting in his bed with a joint in his mouth as his fingers mindlessly strum his guitar, thinking of you. The anger he felt yesterday is now replaced with guilt. A guilt that sits and churns in his stomach, teetering on the edge of nausea. Maybe that was just the hangover, or maybe it’s from the way he can’t get the image of your tear-streaked face out of his head. Tears caused by him.

You deserved to hear how much you hurt him. Be faced with the consequences of your actions. You deserved that. But as he remembers the look in your eyes yesterday, the way you flinched, the way he caused a side of you you rarely show to come out… he knows you didn’t deserve that. He scolds himself for letting his emotions get the best of him, letting them get out of his control. You hurt him, that didn’t make it right for him to hurt you back. It didn’t even make him feel good. Maybe very briefly in the moment, just to release what he’d been holding in for so long, but it left as quickly as it came. 

He sighs as he moves the guitar off his lap, putting out his joint in the ashtray before rubbing his hands over his face, staring up at the ceiling.

He can’t hold on to this anger anymore, he knows it’s not healthy and is only hurting him more. But he can’t blame himself too much for wanting to, it’s one of the ways he’s protected himself in the past. Protected him from getting hurt. You knew that about him. The way he held onto anger at his dad, people in Hawkins, not wanting to waver and give either the chance to hurt him more. You knew almost everything about him, more about him than he’d ever willingly shared with anyone. That’s why what you did hurt him so deeply, and why he wanted to hurt you just as much. And feels like utter shit for it. 

Hey, you!

His eyes dart to his window as his brain immediately recognizes your voice. He peeks out to see you interacting with a younger girl he’d seen skateboarding around in the neighborhood and at school. His heart begins to ache watching you, watching you embrace the girl, watching the way you smile at her and ramble.

God, does he miss it. Misses the way you’d ramble and rant about something you’re passionate about, the way you’d cackle and smile when he’d do the stupidest thing he could think of just so he could see it. Misses the way your warm, plump body feels against him when you’d hug or lean your head on his shoulder. 

He sighs watching you wave goodbye to the girl and walk inside your trailer. 

Maybe he could give you another chance. Now that he’s not so overcome with anger, maybe he’d be able to hear you out. Not overpower you so much with his anger that you can actually have a real chance to explain yourself. 

Maybe.

Tuesday, September 24th, 1985

Some things have changed since your fight with Eddie on Friday. Flipped, really. Your eyes no longer sought him out. You do your best to avoid looking at him whether it was in the halls or in your shared classes. Knowing the sight of him would only bring back that sting in your chest.

Eddie on the other hand, couldn’t tear his eyes away from you whenever you’re in his sight. Watching you in regret, longing, confusion, hurt, all twisted into one. Eddie’s confident in himself most of the time, except for in a few areas. This situation with you and how to handle it moving forward is one of the latter. It’s a big fucking mess he isn’t sure how to fix. He knows with the way things went on Friday after you made the first move to talk to him, that it had to be him this time to try to make things right. 

You take your time walking down the quiet halls before the end of the lunch period, hearing the distant, muffled chatter from the lunchroom. You open your locker, putting away your books from your morning classes, switching them out with your afternoon ones. Just as you finish putting the last book in your bag, your locker slams shut in front of you, causing your head to whip toward the culprit you didn’t notice come up next to you till now.

“You’ve got a smart mouth on you, don’t you piggy?” Jason seethes out, hand pressed against your now closed locker door. Your smirk at him as you lean against it.

“So I’ve been told.”

“Yeah, well I don’t know who the hell you think you are or who you think you're talking to bu-”

“You know, I remember you from years ago. The last time I lived here.” You interrupt before looking him up and down, “Jason Carver. Back then you were just a scrawny guy, trailing behind the older jocks, carrying that ever so fragile ego in tow with theirs.” You look back up to meet his eyes, brows furrowed above them. “I see you’ve grown a few inches, even bulked up a bit. Looks like that’s about all that’s changed, though.” You watch as he processes your words, your insult.

“You fat fucking bitch” He says through gritted teeth, face turning red.

“Oh come on, Carver. Don’t you have anything fresher than that?” you say flatly, cocking an eyebrow at him. You watch as his body tenses up.

“Looks like I need to teach you and that smart mouth a lesson” He says, taking a step closer to you. You don’t move an inch, refusing to give him the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of you.

“Oh no. What are you gonna do?!” You say sarcastically. “You don’t scare me, Carver.”

You watch as a vein protrudes from his forehead, face turning a deeper red. 

It all happens so quickly. One of his arms pulls back, raising in the air in the motion to slap you, but it doesn’t come. Curly dark hair appears behind him, before Jason’s thrown flat on his ass in front of you.

Eddie had been outside smoking before lunch ended. On his way back into the school, he spots you and Jason. He slows his steps, listening in on the quickly escalating conversation. You’re teetering on the edge and you don’t care. As fragile as Jason’s ego is, so is his masculinity. Eddie wasn’t sure if Jason's above hitting a girl, but he knows that’s where this could go. He creeps closer, eyeing the way Jason’s hand begins to twitch. Waiting for the string to snap, and it does. When he spots Jason’s hand raise, Eddie swoops in. With a foot behind Jason’s, Eddie wraps his arm around Jason’s front, pulling him till he’s falling back on the floor. 

Eddie was no stranger to fights, the jocks of Hawkins having taken their frustrations out of him plenty of times. He didn’t like putting himself in the line of fire, but he has and would do it in a heartbeat for the people he cares about. Despite how he’s acted, you’re one of those people.

Your eyes widen, at the fact Jason was about to hit you in the middle of the school, and at seeing Eddie before you, swooping in out of nowhere to defend you. Your eyes lock with his and everything slows down, so many emotions and words unsaid flowing between you with just a look. For a moment your mind flashes back to 5th grade Eddie, reaching his hand out to help you off the ground, worry and sympathy filling his eyes. History repeating itself. You take a deep breath as the memory hits you, staring into Eddie’s brown eyes. In that moment, it’s only you two. No one else. No white brick halls. Just you and Eddie, conveying so much to each other through just your eyes.

Jason’s groans pull you from your trance, your eyes leaving Eddie’s to look down at him. You drop down to one knee, getting into Jason’s face. Eyes popping open wide when he senses you so close. You look at him with fire in your eyes as you point a finger in his face.

“Let me tell you something, you piece of shit. I didn’t come back here to deal with your little brat boy bullshit. If I see you try to put your hands on any of my friends, let alone me, again… I will make you regret it. And don’t think that I won’t.” You hiss, voice full of steel. Staring at him with as much intensity as he held earlier. You relish in the brief moment of fear that flashes through his eyes before his face hardens in frustration and embarrassment, chest heaving with deep, short breaths.

A silence falls before the bell rings to end the lunch period, breaking you all out of the moment. Jason quickly pulls himself to his feet before students flood the halls, not wanting anyone to see him in his embarrassing position. You rise with him. He fixes his letterman jacket, staring daggers between you and Eddie.

“Fucking freaks” he huffs before turning around, stomping down the hall quickly as it fills with students.

Both you and Eddie relax, releasing a breath before you’re just standing there awkwardly next to each other. You resecure your bag on your shoulder before chancing a look at Eddie, who's already staring at you. Reading you, assessing you, trying to tell if you’re okay.

You clear your throat before nodding your head at him.

“Thank you” you mutter softly. When he doesn’t immediately say anything back, your body takes the lead, quickly walking away toward your next class. 

Eddie considers chasing after you, but he doesn’t know what the hell he’d say if he did. He just watches you walk away before he takes slow steps to follow you to your shared class together.

In the two classes you have together, you can feel his eyes on you. You catch him a few times, eyes locking with his before one of you quickly looks away. 

You feel like you have whiplash. From the switch up of the Eddie you faced on Friday that hated your guts, to the Eddie who didn’t waste a second coming to defend you, with only a few days passing in between. You can’t wrap your head around it. You know he cares, he wouldn’t have been so angry before if he didn’t, but you assumed he was done with you, hated you. But someone that hates you wouldn’t rush into potential harms way to defend you, right?

A few more stolen glances and the muffled voices of your teachers’ as you’re lost in thought fills the remainder of your school day. When you leave your final class, stopping at your locker before walking out the front doors, you wonder if he’ll come up behind you, apologize for his behavior on Friday and give you another chance. But it doesn’t happen, making the walk to your truck uninterrupted. You want to chastise yourself for holding that hope, but what happened today can’t mean nothing. It just can’t. You don’t want it to.

You spend the remainder of your afternoon trying to do your homework. It takes everything in you to focus, almost giving up when the calculus problems push you right to the edge in frustration. You let out a huff in relief as you finish the problems and slam your notebook shut, throwing your head back as you slouch in your chair. Rubbing your hands over your face before you hear your mom unlocking the front door. When you note the time and sun setting through your window, you get up and make your way to the kitchen to start making dinner. You browse through the cupboard before your eyes land on a package of pasta. Spaghetti it is. 

As you wait for the meat to brown, your mind replays the events of the day. Landing back into the loop your thoughts had been stuck in all afternoon about Eddie. Trying to make sense of it all, of him. The moment your eyes locked this afternoon made your heart ache, and still does when you think of it now.

You aren’t sure when exactly you first fell in love with Eddie Munson.

The first day you met when he came to your rescue from bullies? That time in the woods when you were 10 when he insisted you be the trapped princess his mission was to rescue? The countless Friday nights you spent staying up late to watch The Midnight Special, eventually falling asleep on each other's shoulders? The first time he shared his mom’s records with you? The first time he really opened up to you about the loss of his mom, and the strenuous relationship with his Dad? That night your parents fighting got so bad you snuck out of your window and went to his trailer in tears, consoling you and doing anything he could to cheer you up? That time he almost went to fight your mom when he saw the red mark on your cheek? Or maybe it was the time he told you you’re beautiful the way you are, when your mom and everyone’s criticisms of your body weighed too heavily on your mind? 

You can’t pinpoint which event triggered the change from seeing Eddie as your friend, to your crush. What event marked the transition to being in love with your best friend, seeing and imagining him in ways beyond a regular friend would. You aren’t sure when, but you know you’ve been in love with him for as long as you can remember. An unrequited love that made your heart ache with every pet name bestowed upon you, with every flash of that devilish smile and irresistible dimples, with every use of his deep, animated voice for dramatic storytelling. An ache you���d decided for years you could stifle to keep his friendship. An ache that turned into a sharp pain hearing his voice over the phone, hundreds of miles away. A pain you’d decided you couldn’t bear anymore. Maybe if you hadn’t been in love with him, things would’ve been different. You wouldn’t have pulled away. 

So foolish. Desperately longing for things you couldn’t have. Longing so desperately you pushed away the best person in your life, the very person you longed for. A decision that didn’t take long for you to regret, but in your mind was too late to fix. Now, after today, you aren’t so confident about that.

You sit on the couch with your mom, eating Spaghetti and watching Magnum P.I. reruns as your thoughts continue. Mindless small talk about your days, vision zoning out as you stare at the tv, petting Henny who sits in your lap, and a heightened awareness of Eddie’s presence only 100 feet away. An hour later when your mom announces she’s going to bed, you ponder how to spend the rest of your night. You know you won’t be able to fall asleep yourself anytime soon, anticipating one of those nights you won’t be able to shut your mind off. 

You wander to your room, shutting your door as you reach into one of your dresser drawers for your little stash box. Sighing in frustration when you notice you only have enough left for one more smoke.

You roll a quick blunt before throwing on a flannel and slipping out the front door. You take a deep inhale of the fresh air, relishing in the cool breeze of the late September night as you begin the short walk to the little neighborhood park at the end of your street. You don’t notice the figure on the porch across the street smoking a cigarette in the dark as you walk, taking in the sound of the breeze blowing through the leaves on the trees, the quietness of the park beyond the very faint sound of some network sitcom playing on a tv.

You sit on a swing and begin to move back and forth slowly as memories flood back. This playground hasn’t changed a bit since you first moved to Forest Hills Trailer Park 9 years ago. Paint faded and chipping, old mulch littered around the playground, and rusted metal chains on the swing that creaks with each movement. Eddie and you spent countless afternoons here in the early years of your friendship. Swinging together, laughing as you’d watch Eddie do the monkey bars, spinning each other on the merry-go-round till you thought you’d get sick.

You put the blunt to your lips and light it, taking a deep inhale as you look around the abandoned playground, hoping the weed would help to calm your mind enough to get some sleep. You rest your head against the metal swing chain, feet softly kicking at the mulch and dirt beneath you. You don’t hear the soft footsteps on pavement approaching you till they’re only a couple feet away, head shooting up at the intrusion when the sound meets your ears. Eddie clears his throat, hands in his vest pockets as he stands at the edge of the playground. Your movements still at the sight of him, streetlights illuminating his figure and messy curls. When your body stiffens and you remain silent, Eddie takes a few steps closer.

“I-uh, I come in peace, promise.” He says softly, raising his hands in surrender. “Mind if I join you?” he asks, head gesturing to the empty swing next to you. You only nod in response before casting your eyes down. You take another hit as he sits down next to you, praying the calming effects you sought would kick in quicker.

You’re both silent for a while, the light wind blowing through the trees, neighborhood noises, and soft creaks from the swing set the only sounds filling the space between you. Eddie’s knee bobs anxiously before he clears his throat.

“I um, just wanted to apologize for Friday. The way I acted, some of the things I said… I let my emotions get the best of me. I didn’t really give you much room to talk, and I’m sorry for that.” Eddie says nervously, eyes turning to look at you as he finishes. You nod in response again, not looking his way.

“I understand. I don’t blame you.” Silence falls between you again before you look towards him. “Thank you again, for earlier today. You didn’t need to step in like that.” Eddie chuckles softly.

“Oh, I know you could’ve handled him just fine on your own, but you shouldn’t have had to... It’s no problem, really. Not my first run in with him anyway.” You wonder just how many times Eddie’s had to deal with Carver and the other jocks, just how bad those run-ins have possibly gotten. In a sign signaling truce, you hand your blunt to him, offering a hit. He gladly accepts with a soft smile before taking a hit.

“Since when do you smoke the devil’s lettuce?”

You giggle softly, letting a smile spread to your cheeks.

“About a year now, same with these” You say, pulling the pack of cigarettes from your pocket enough for him to see. Eddie tsk’s in response, passing the blunt back to you.

“Naughty naughty.” He teases in a deep voice, eyeing you while blowing out smoke. You tear your eyes away and back to the mulch beneath your feet, the sight enough to send a shiver up your spine. 

After a few more passes between you, the blunt is gone and you’re left to face the inevitable conversation. You rub your sweaty palms against your thighs as you work up the courage.

“I just wanted to say again, I’m sorry for how things went. For dropping contact. It’s entirely my fault and… I’m really sorry for doing that to you, Eddie. You didn’t deserve that.” Your eyes peek at him. He’s faced forward, nodding softly in response as he lights a cigarette. He moves his hips slightly, enough to turn his body more toward yours. 

“So why did you do it?” he asks quietly, dark eyes looking up from his cigarette to meet yours. A somber look on his face, a stark contrast from a few days ago. You take a shaky deep breath while turning your head to look up at the stars littering the sky.

You can’t tell him the truth. You can’t tell him you stopped returning his calls because you were so in love with him that the distance, the sound of his voice over the phone caused your heart to ache so deeply that you couldn’t take it anymore, that you’d recluse to your room and cry after each call.

“We were so close and it hurt so much to be torn apart. Every time I heard your voice on the phone… it just” you take another deep breath, “it was just a reminder that I wouldn’t see you again and that just hurt too much to deal with. I didn’t want to deal with it. So… I secluded. I avoided you. I know it might not make sense, that it might not be a good enough answer for you, but it’s the only one I have.” 

You didn’t exactly lie. It’s not the full truth but you were still as honest as you could let yourself be. He’s quiet for a minute as he takes in your words before letting out a deep sigh. 

“I guess I get that,” He does, he felt the pain too. The way his heart ached in longing every time he heard your voice, every time he’s thought about you since. It wasn’t enough for him to stop calling, but he still understands you shared the same pain during every call. “But you could’ve seen me again, you’ve been visiting in the summers this whole time.” he protests softly.

“Eddie, when I stopped calling I didn’t know I was going to come back to visit.” You shake your head lightly before turning your body towards him, mirroring his. “I mean, I figured I’d come back and see my Dad eventually, but uh if you remember, he wasn’t exactly in the best mental state when we left and was also locked up so, I didn’t really know anything about what would happen.” You look away from him and towards your lap, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your flannel. “It’s not that I don’t regret it, I do. But by the time I changed my mind and found out about coming back in the summer I was just… like, paralyzed. It had only been two months after I stopped calling, but I was afraid. Afraid it was too much time that’d passed, afraid you’d moved on and replaced me, afraid you wouldn’t forgive me… so I didn’t do anything. Just let it be. The whole time I just told myself you probably didn’t care much anyway.” Eddie blinks at you, wide-eyed as you finish before scoffing lightly.

“You really think I would’ve ‘replaced’ you that easily? That quickly? You were my best friend too, Y/N. The closest I’ve ever had, even closer than Ronnie, you know that. How could you think I wouldn’t care?”

“Come on, Eddie. You’re telling me your brain never fucks with you like that?” You ask, fingers picking a cigarette out of your pack and lighting it quickly. After an inhale you continue, “I mean logically, I know that you felt the same about our friendship. Plenty of memories and moments to prove it. But I just kept thinking back to when I first told you I was leaving. Sure, you seemed disappointed but you weren’t as upset as I was, you didn’t cry. And despite knowing I've only seen you cry like, twice before in all those years, my brain still just clung onto that. Like ‘See! He doesn’t really care, not as much as you.’” You shake your head in disappointment and frustration with yourself as you take another hit. “It’s stupid, I know.”

“No,” Eddie answers quickly, squashing his own cigarette in the mulch with his Reebok sneakers. He looks at you, a sympathetic look etched across his features. “I know what that’s like.” You’re both quiet at first, letting the new information and understanding fall into place. You rock yourself back and forth on the swing slowly, gathering your words before you speak them.

“Look, I don’t expect you to forgive me and I don’t know what I could do to make it up to you but, I just need to say again that I’m sorry. I would take it all back if I could. I’ve really missed you.” You finish, eyes meeting his. You hope they’re portraying your sincerity as his own search your face. He looks away from you as a small smile tugs at one side of his lips, feet kicking at the mulch below.

“Yeah well… I missed you too.” He breathes out, eyes meeting yours again. A small smile tugs at your own lips. After a few moments of silence, he finishes. “I forgive you.”

He leans towards you, pinky finger extended. You choke out a laugh at the sight, relief washing over you. You wrap your pinky around his, closing your eyes to stop them from watering as your smile deepens.

When your fingers detach, you sigh deeply and open your eyes to meet his again.

“Thank you” you say quietly, warmth spreading through your body. It feels like a massive weight has been taken off your shoulders. The optimism and hope you haven’t felt since last Sunday, before your first day back at Hawkins, creeps its way back into your mind and body. You note how much lighter your chest feels as it moves with each breath, and the knot you’ve felt in your stomach for a week begins to loosen.

You stay there for a while, lightly swinging back and forth as you and Eddie dive into discussions about new bands, albums, and movies that have come out since you moved. Concerts you’ve been to since. Eddie smiles seeing that you haven’t changed one bit since you’d left, even mentioning bands and movies he hadn’t even heard of, promising to share your tapes with him at some point. He finds himself getting lost watching you as you excitedly describe the Journey concert you went to with your cousins in 83’. Smiling when he notices the sparkle in your eyes as you rave about Steve Perry’s voice and how they played your favorite songs. Laughing as you pout in jealousy when he describes the Metallica concert he went to with Gareth earlier this year. It all feels so familiar, so comfortable.

You’re so lost in conversation you don’t notice how much time passes by until Eddie checks his watch and whistles. It’s almost 11:30pm, nearly 2 hours since you first walked down to the playground. The hesitancy you held about your ability to get a goodnight’s rest tonight was gone. You feel like you’re floating as you and Eddie walk the short distance back to your trailers, Eddie telling you about Hellfire’s current campaign. 

“You know, you’re more than welcome to join us sometime. You already know half the club.” He offers as you reach the end of your driveway. 

“I’ll definitely think about it, thanks.” You give him a small smile.

“Cool. Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” He returns your smile as he rocks back and forth on his heels lightly, hands shoved into his vest pockets. 

“Oh, wait! Kind of an odd question but before I forget, do you know anyone around here that sells?” You ask as the thought of your now empty stash box pops into your head. Eddie smoked with you, you figure he knew where to get some around here.

And boy, did he. 

A bright, cheeky smile stretches across his face.

“Oh yeah, I know a guy.” He says with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes before he bows dramatically, “Your friendly neighborhood drug dealer at your service, my dear.”

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Tightrope and Lace

Astarion has a proposition: you’d look lovely in rope. And you shouldn’t be the only one who gets to dress for the occasion. Rated extremely Explicit.

Like a lotta questionable decisions in your life, this one also starts with four words.

“I have a proposition, darling.”

Okay, so that’s five words. But Astarion uses “darling” the same way the man deigns to breathe, so it don’t count.

It’s an hour after sundown. The last traces of pink light smear low on the horizon, behind the lit towers and buildings of the city. Warmth still clings to the stones of y’all’s townhouse, and your hair is still damp from your bath.

Astarion pads up behind you, and his cool fingers trace softly down the back of your neck. A shiver races along after them. Which he know’ll happen.

“Uh huh?” you say all non-committal, because the last time he said that to you it involved a phial of arsonists oil, the city watch, and the stray cat incident.

Y’all are still in your sleepwear. Well, he is. Soft, loose trousers and his bare chest against your back. You actually had to throw on a mumu (they call it a shift) after bathing, and that bitch is see-through in direct light, but y’all ain’t expecting visitors and it’s chilly enough you don’t want to walk around bare today.

(Fuck the heat.)

That mumu is thin enough you feel the first stirring of his intent against your ass.

“Uh huh,” you say, much more interested.

He nuzzles in, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. Down the side of your neck to drag his teeth over the fain scars you now carry there.

Feeding and fucking ain’t always synonymous with him—sometimes a man is just plain old hungry. It often is, though, and his cock is definitely starting to pay attention.

“Come back to bed,” he says.

“I’m hungry.”

He hums. Nibbles at you again and his hands move to your front. One lifts to cup a breast, while the other trails down, down to slip between your legs.

“So am I,” he says and he had to’ve practiced that line.

Except you’re up and washed for a reason. The night market is opening, and y’all are getting low on provisions. You want soup, goddamnit, and y’all are somehow out of both onions and fucking salt. Plus, if you get there soon, you can grab yourself a chicken before they all get snatched up (thank you Gale for teaching you how to defeather and dress them little dumplings).

(Ooh, chicken and dumplings sounds great.)

So you, very reluctantly, push his hands away. Turn in the circle of his arms—you don’t get a chance to talk before he leans in for a kiss. He’s gentle, this evening. You fall into it a little, until his teeth find your lower lip.

This’ll get out of control (y’all have fucked on this counter more than once already). And you need provisions.

So you break off. He tries to follow, and groans when you don’t let him.

“So selfish, leaving me here like this,” the man whines.

And the idea blooms in your mind. Your breath catches and a tendril of warmth shoots between your legs. Astarion, with his fucking vampire hearing honed in on your cardiac uptick, raises an eyebrow and a sly smile slides across his face.

“What if, um,” you say. “What if you weren’t the only one left wanting?”

“Oh?”

Your cheeks are warm. You bite your lip (and catch how he stares).

“What if we got the rope?”

The rest on AO3 cause I don't wanna get thrown into horny jail.

[decodedlvr]

Shy my ass | steve harrington x f!reader

wow, staring at him now I never noticed before just how perfect it is. I mean sure yeah eveything about him is perfect i love all of him but, his nose oh wow, his nose how I could just—

‘you alright’?

‘huh? yes why is something wrong?’

‘nothings wrong pretty, you just zoned out for a bit’

‘oh! I’m alright must be the..weather?’ you wince at that poor lie. it never worked in movies why would it work now

‘well, if you’re sure baby. he kisses you with those plush lips and you leaned in to get a deeper feeling of them; maybe for a closer feeling for his nose against your face also

‘mm,eager?’

‘oh my, I-sorry’—

‘It’s okay I liked it baby’ he pecks you one more time

‘now as i was saying; robin was gushing all over about how Jenny at the mall asked her—

I swear I’m not being rude he’s not boring in any way but..the way he scrunches his nose when he smiles telling a story, the bridge curves just right for me rub my clit on—

‘y/n!?’

‘what!? sorry!’

‘you’re not looking into my eyes when I’m talking, you keep looking at my nose; why?’

Crap crap crap—

‘shy girl tell me what’s on your mind’

‘I um- well I just think it’s pretty to look at is all’ you whisper

He pulls your face closer to his to look into his eyes. ‘ what’s pretty about my nose sweetness?’

You turn beet-red which didn’t go unnoticed while he places you on his lap

‘shy girl, why do you like my nose so much hm? you know I’ll get the answer outta ya one way or another’

you squirm. you aren’t good at eye contact you never were. he knows how it makes you nervous but; he knows deep down how wet it actually gets you.

‘I t-told you I think it’s pretty and there’s little freckles on it…and..’

‘..anddd?’

‘And- and I feel like it would um-feel goodtositon— you rush out that last part in a whisper

he says nothing but licks his lips and pouts saying ‘you wanna rub that pretty little clit of yours on my big nose baby?’

your eyes not meeting his anymore

‘uh,uh look at me and tell me..is that what you want?’

‘yess it’s what I want stevie.’ you stare back at him lips trembling. He can’t stand looking that shy pout of yours as he shoves his lips onto yours slipping his tongue into your mouth making you moan.

‘cmon baby, stand up for sec’ you allow space for him to rip his shirt off and your already soaked lavender panties off as he lays flat.

‘come sit on my face baby, let daddy take care of you dirty girl’

‘Im not’ you blush hard under his gaze. it’s not that you didn’t like his degradation, it’s that you’re so sheltered with such whore undertones only Steve has discovered.

Climbing on top; he can already smell your arousal making his cock grow harder but he can take care of himself later. He’s determined to watch his baby girl dive into her little fantasy of hers.

His strong arms making your thighs callapse on top of his face he seems more eager than you already—

‘it’s okay baby, ride my nose baby just like you wanted make yourself feel good’

still feeling shy under his gaze he helps you out a little bit giving you some kitten licks; with some airy gasps—

‘steve oh-ohh oh my goodness oh my goodness yes mm—

‘that’s it baby just enjoy the feeling I got you’

grinding a little bit in circles now he helps angle your hips so now your clit is directly on the bulbuls tip of his nose

‘oh fuck yes yes FUCK Steve!!’

‘that’s it keep going baby’

Steve knows when you get warmed up enough when y’all have sex you’ll really let yourself go of that shy girl persona ; and once it starts it’s like you’re a completely different person.

Gripping his hair like it’s a saddle your nails dig in his scalp like razor blades you hump, fuck, and grind all over his nose

—‘fuck goddamnit Stevie I ca-cant shit feels so good—‘

‘look at you’ he says growling and scoffing -fucking my face but everyone’s sees you as an angel don’t they?’

‘ I am jeez— YES YES RIGHT THERE ; you’re yanking his head back and forth his hands digging in your ass occasionally, his tongue peaks out to tease you it’s all exhausting in the best way

‘you smell so fucking good baby cmon, I can feel your filthy hole clenching on my nose baby fucking hump my face baby fucking cum on it— you got it—‘

drooling, surprised your hips aren’t broken by how fast your circling your whole bottom basically on his face he can even get a whiff of your ass, he needs to pull his cock out ; he needs to cum with you. and hard too.

‘—daddy— stevie please your nose so good fuck’

‘cum baby’ he says squeezing his balls so he can make more pressure rise into his leaky red tip, jerking and fuckkng his fist at the same pace your grinding his nose—

‘shiitt, baby thats it yeah fuck this pretty cunts so G-GOOD baby gonna cum for me? yea?’

‘yes please please close fuck—gunna—

his face soaked more than a pancake with syrup; thighs on fire, clit swelling , and twitching as you cum on his nose nearly even in his eyes; he’s spilling on his soft tummy with a few large grunts and sighs

too weak to climb back off he slides your body off with his not so weak arm gazing. fucked out face, and her staring back in horror at his face looking as if she painted him with a hot glue gun—

‘don’t even apologize I plan on licking all of this off my face’ he says while swiping his forehead with his finger and sucking it

‘wait—‘

she sits up leans forward

‘what are you—‘

she starts sucking his nose like its her own personal ring pop . steves eyes widen from the confidence ; getting her own flavors off while making herself all wet again just from the act. she won’t tell him that though.

‘you’re actually the devil in disguise’

‘hey! no he’s scary can I be something cuter?’ she pouts

He chuckles to himself in amazement and admiration. This shy girl was so- scratch that.— Yeah right.

Shy my ass.

reblogs appreciated :>

[yourbestprincess]

omg please tag me in the next part

A Dark Kind of Love ~ Pt 2

☆♡︎☆♡︎☆♡︎☆♡︎☆♡︎

YA’LL. I AM SO SORRY!!!! The 7 month delay… HERE YOU GUYS GO PLS ENJOY IM SO SORRY…

Too many warnings, so…Ghostface is your warning 🤗🤗🤗

————————————————————————

It’s been exactly a week that you haven’t seen ghostface, or “D.J”. The thought of him not being around has more than pissed you off.

That motherfucker. He can just take my virginity and leave?? The thought lingers in your mind way longer than you think it should.

You’ve been getting weird “No Caller ID” calls almost all week, you’ve been declining them, but today, you decide to answer, just to tell whoever it is to fuck off.

You get comfortable on your couch, taking a sip of your hot chocolate, which had been spontaneously delivered to your house. You’ve felt watched ever since ghostface had left your house, you even felt watched at work too. Before you can fully settle down, the call you’ve been waiting for comes.

Your arm hesitantly reaches out to pick up your ringing phone from the coffee table by your couch. As soon as you press the answer button and put the phone to your ear, you hear breathing on the other line.

“Hello??” You snap, feeling a little pissed off.

Whoever you’re talking to, chuckles before taking in a low, sugarcoated voice, “Looks like you can finally answer your phone now, can’t you?”

Goddamnit. You think to yourself before speaking.

“If i knew it was you, I would’ve answered sooner.” You bite back, a bit harsher than he was. You stand up from the couch to look out the window for him.

“No need to get up, baby. I know where you’re at.” He sneers behind the mask, letting out a quiet giggle before moving even closer to you.

You sigh and and walk to the window facing your front yard. Your eyes looking for a suspicious looking man. “Well, at least tell me where you’re”your words get cut off by him holding your waist.

“How’d you get-“ you ask in shock before he interrupts a second time, his gloved hand, cold against your bare waist.

“Someone left their window open again.” He giggles as he lifts up your loose black t-shirt to reveal his initials on your back. He caressed your healing cuts with his gloved hand, making it hurt a little more than it already does.

“What does It mean?? I have letters on my body and I don’t even know what they mean.” You snarl at him, pulling away from his touch to face him.

“Listen, princess. You’ll find out eventually, but you’ll need to stop being a little bitch about it first.” He tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him, but before you can even speak, he pulls your hips to meet his.

“You wanna be a bitch? Might just have ta’ kill ya.” He chuckles just a little.

You try to speak and you furrow your eyebrows, but before anything comes out, he puts his hand around your neck. It wasn’t with a tremendous amount of pressure, but more gently, as a warning. He removes his hand once he sees tears form in your eyes. You gasp from the relief and fall on him. He was much bigger than you.

“I’ll be good, I promise.” You say, gently crying into his cloak. He sighs and pets your hair as he swiftly picks you up and carry’s you to your bed.

“Ya better be a fuckin’ angel for me tonight, doll.” You know already by the tone of his voice and the grip he has on you, that he isn’t going to be gentle tonight at all.

As soon as he reaches your bedroom door his foot swings, and in one harsh kick the door swings wide open.

He practically throws you on the bed, making you huff from the force. He’s looking at you, you can’t see what’s under his mask…but god, you know he’s smirking at you.

He shoves his gloved fingers into your mouth, coating them in your thick saliva. He grunts out a ‘Fuck’ and something else incoherent. His words, breathy and broken from you being such a tease for him. You let out a weak whimper from feeling so eager to take him.

“Are you just gonna sit here and cry? Better take it like a good whore.” As soon as his words end, he drops your body on the bed. It’s almost as if you’re weightless to him. He takes out his Polaroid camera from his back pocket and plays with the settings as he towers over your limp, weak body.

CLICK

Your body limply lays on the bed as he snaps a quick picture of you. Seeing you like this, under his mercy really gets him going. He reaches into his side pocket to grab his knife, already stained in blood, god knows who’s. You squint your eyes and brace yourself as much as possible, whimpering under him.

“Oh, Angel, I’ll keep you alive. Don’tcha’ remember?” you loosen up your body up a bit from its braced state, looking up at the ghastly mask above you. Instead of driving the knife into you, he slices your camisole down the middle.

CLICK

“Jesus.” You catch him whispering under his breath. You’re pretty sure he’s losing self control as he’s literally stripping you with his knife. He takes off his leathery gloves, his hand look so rough, calloused, and damaged. But when he touches you, he’s so warm. His warm hands come up to play and kneed on your breast, and he just sits there, watching them bounce and jiggle.

He’s so starved for you. He waited as long as he could. Yes, he was busy, but fuck, he needed his muse. He needed you to let some steam off, to fuck the anger out, to use you as his fucking toy.

“Use me.”

He steps back, his breath hitched and his heart racing. His calloused fingers tug at the elastic waistband of your shorts, pulling them down as fast as he can. He looks deprived for you as he aggressively rips them off, tearing your pink panties next. Say bye to how cute they were, because he’s taking them, and you’re not getting them back.

His thick finger dips into your dripping wetness, sliding up your folds and wetting your throbbing clit.

“Is this want you’ve been wanting? Hm? Making me go batshit crazy? Like a horny fucking bastard?” He snaps, shoving his middle and ring finger into you, pumping and curling in just the right spot. You can’t even form words from how good he feels. You can’t help it when he makes your back arch.

“mmm, fuck!” Is the only thing you can make out, and it’s all slurred together.

“Yeah? Can’t fuckin’ talk now can ya?” You look down to see him unzipping his painfully hard erection, only wanting inside of you.

“Goddamit look what you fuckin’ do to me, dollface.” He says as he pumps his cock before sliding it up and down your wet, throbbing slit, practically clenching around nothing.

You whine and whimper waiting for him to finally put it in your drenching, throbbing little pussy.

Before you can think anything else, he shoves his thick cock in with some force.

“Fuuuckkk. Jesus Christ.” He can only say under his breath.

All you can do is moan and whine. His cock fills you all the way up.

“M’ Sorry, s’ only my second time!” you cry out to him even though he knows this. He already took your virginity and he wouldn’t let anyone else inside you but him.

“goddamnit, so fuckin’ tight-“ His voice was shaky, you didn’t even know it but you were driving him over the edge. He attempts to pick his camera back up but gives up because anytime he moves inside of you it just gets him closer.

When he does start to slowly thrust into you, it feels like you’ll never need anything else in life besides to fulfill his needs.

“Fuck! Ghostf-“

“Danny. Goddamnit.” He swears under his breath as if you weren’t supposed to know that.

“Danny? Oh my god, Danny please! Just keep going!” It’s barely registered that that was his real name and not ‘Ghostface’. But, by how fast his thrusts are getting, you’re starting to catch on.

“Say it again.” His breath hitches every time that you say his name, it sends him farther and farther over the edge.

“Oh my- Fuck, Danny!” He finally gets the will power to grab his Polaroid and snaps a photo of you so open and vulnerable.

CLICK

“Gonna cum! Im so close, please!!” You sob and whimper as he fucks you with a vigorous passion. Your walls are so tight around him, basically sucking him back in every time he thrusts backwards.

“Say my name. S’ fuckin’ slutty, can’t fuckin’ take it anymore.” You can see him coming apart at the seems now.

“Mm-fuck! Danny!” You finally release your tight walls all over his thick shaft. Your orgasm triggers his. He lets out an almost pornographic whimper as he comes as deep into your pulsating pussy as physically possible.

———————————————————————-

After cleaning up a little bit and getting back in bed, you feel like you should go back and ask him what’s been on your mind. Even if he didn’t care, at least you could get it out.

“Danny, huh?” You chuckle, pointing to the ‘D’ on your back.

He sighs deeply, “Yep, that’s the name, don’t wear it out, princess.” You wish you could see his face right now.

“Then what’s the J?!” You furrow your brows and cross your arms. You really wanted to know but didn’t want to push.

“You’ll find out, I promise ya.” He giggles and turns the light off before comes to sit next to you.

“Come see me sooner next time, please. I missed you.” You frown and reach out to hold onto him.

“Well, can’t stand to see myself get so close so soon, so I think I’ll have to doll face.” He scoffs jokingly and slips just a tiny bit of his mask. He sits next to you and lets you crawl up onto his lap.

You lean into him, letting him kiss you deep. Tongues touching and lips getting bit. He can barely hold himself back from doing you again.

[t0ast-ghost]

Season four of the boys is hitting my brain like a crowbar so I’ve got a couple more thoughts about the new episode

There’s gonna be spoilers for the episode, a bit of talk about the comics, and some only slightly bloody images, so be wary, be warned!

These are my thoughts during the first watch:

- When Butcher hit his head I actively gasped. My poor babygirl.

- I do like how they’ve made Becca meaner but essentially still her

- Frenchie. Break up with him.

- I’m glad Annie has more plot and scenes this season. I’m also glad that Firecracker is actually fucking with her. Their foundation is messy but the actual rivalry is coming together quite nicely

- “I had nightmares about that exact moment, and you can’t even remember it. It’s funny, isn’t it, how people can have such different memory of the exact same thing.” Oh my god this is such a good line. Like obviously not to the extremes of Homelander but kids can and will retain things that their parents won’t even remember. They make some parts of his character easy to understand because you can see that his actions are always impulsive and unhealthy and created by the ways he was raised and the environment he’s been surrounded by

- Okay that death was so so well done. It’s so emotional for Homelander because he’s seeing how people aren’t honest or caring until he’s threatening them. I can’t even try and decipher the “I forgive you” line because it’s so full of apathy

- Hughie and Kimiko teaming up is so special to me. I need more of them.

- HUGHIE GETTING V FOR HIS DAD??? CONFRONTING A TRAIN??? Discuss??? (There’s more thoughts later)

- Hughie saying that him and A-Train would be “good” if A-Train got the v for him is so heavy. It felt like Hughie trading Robin’s life for his dads. Or for his future? Like in order to move on he has to let go of Robin and that feels so awful

- I wanna state how easily and quickly they made me uncomfortable with Firecracker and The Deep singing. How is that so unreasonably uncomfortable?

- So uh. Yeah I’m not sure I wanna touch that scene…

- THEY PUT HUGHIE IN A SCREAM CHASE SCENE

- I literally screamed when Hughie killed him omg. This is what I’m here for omg omg my babygirl

(Here’s a behind the scenes stunt video on insta)

- Tala is so fair for that but when is she gonna become apart of the boys family?

- I think Annie is going to blow up. Like I think she will do something really bad.

- YEA BEAT HER UP ANNIE… okay maybe not the best decision but…

- WHAT THE FUCK

- Fun fact Homelander’s birth that Barbara describes is how Becca dies in the comics

- UM UM UM UM UM so uhhhhhh I suspected that Sage needed to give herself lobotomies for that reason (wish I said smt goddamnit) but I was not ready for a scene depicting a lobotomy that also implied it was like sex to her?

- Kimiko and Annie hug <333

- Hughie forgave him… now kiss

- “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life hating anybody” YESS that’s what this is about!!! How fucking contrasting Hughie and Butchers views are on the subject of revenge and superheroes. Their situations are so very different from the comics and I like that both of them are (somewhat) healing. Hughie’s forgiven A-Train and Butcher is just trying to get Ryan safe. It’s less about killing for both of them in the show which I love

- I paused to write that before the “there’s enough here to save you too” OH MY GOD NO. No no. Nonononono. No.

- Hughie’s face when getting coffee? Mwah! Give him little kiss

- HIS MOM. KNOWS. ABOUT. V!!?? I mean. They couldn’t kill off Simon Pegg. He’s Simon Pegg! Just kidding I totally thought he was going to die. I wonder if they’ll give him the same kind of quandary Hughie originally got in the comics when Butcher forcefully injected him with V

- Perfect ending for Homelander’s visit home.

Interlude:

So I haven’t started the rewatch yet but two things about some characters of the last three episodes that actually didn’t make an appearance in this one.

First off I don’t think I mentioned this in my last post but I really like what they’ve done with Noir. It’s an interesting and corporate way to bring back the character that makes a lot of sense in universe

Secondly there’s a theory I wanted to bring to people’s attention. This video on instagram has the theory that Kessler is like Becca and isn’t actually real. Which I think is really neat. I’ll take it either way but it would make a lot of sense if he wasn’t since he seems to hold a lot of negative traits that Butcher used to have and is trying to grow from

Okay I lied, third thing cause it just got brought to my attention again; everyone who is making fun of Laz Alonso shut the fuck up. Thank you. I won’t be taking criticism on this.

Onto the rewatch:

- The first shot is of different variations of Homelander’s costume. Pretty cool!

- Second shot has two pictures of Frank and Martin working in the lab with Frank’s picture framed by a newspaper thats article makes no sense but has a lot of key words and phrases (could just be gibberish idk) the title on a separate article from the same newspaper can be read as “Drama class wins award” other than that there’s also some kind of document that’s the same kind of gibberish but it caught my eye cause it says “-orthward gay” … not sure what this means…

Camera then pans down to reveal a memo and news clipping. The memo is from Barbara to the staff and talks about how anyone who breaks the confidentiality of Project Odessa will be terminated and prosecuted. The news clipping is more gibberish with the heading “Nervous system mystery revealed” by Greg Gilmore (by gibberish I mean the first couple sentences are “Had men rose from down lady able. Its son him ferrars proceed six parlors.” And then continues on like that)

- I actually love the horror movie situation they find themselves in. It’s a creepy basement lab. The security cams go out. Communication to the outside world has been cut off. Then the devil arrives in the elevator. It’s done so well, things are set up perfectly. There’s even a sign that says “All activities monitored by video camera” and a box with the words “fire safety plan” (could be foreshadowing or I’m just connecting non existent dots)

- The picture of young Homelander with the scientists. It’s so horribly terrible and amazing

- Fudgie the whale is their last meal :(

- titties ahem I didn’t really pay any attention to the shower scene last time. That’s a terrible shower head in my opinion, I don’t like the way it sprays water- OH WAIT THE WIRM IS IN HIS SPINE????? He’s also got a bullet wound in his back. He’s also got a lot of nice freckles on his back. Oh the way Becca sits on the edge and offers her hand and he reaches to take it but grasps the edge of the bathtub instead

- Hughie’s mom seems so fucking casual in the scene where they’re deciding whether to pull his dad’s feeding tubes. She’s too relaxed and almost smiling? At least with her eyes. A lot.

- OH YEAH Gen V mentioned!

- ANNIE I LOVE YOU!!! Look at her face after she burned the president!

- Seriously though such a good Annie moment. She’s so confident with this and marches into the presidents’ office with a plan but by the end of this it’s all backfired and taken away from her. It shows just how fucking much Firecracker ends up affecting her

- I’m not going to be nit picky and go on about how Colin should’ve noticed Frenchie’s ankle because obviously he’d be checking and Frenchie wouldn’t’ve known to hide it before. But I am going to say that’s a Count Olaf ass ankle shot.

- Oh I love how it seems like almost a sweet moment between Sage and Firecracker when she says “we gotta look out for each other” but now you know Sage fully intends for Firecracker to get beat up by Starlight

- I was trying to figure out why Sage got the Deep to do her lobotomy. It’s not that Sage trusts the Deep or even likes him but I think it really is just kind of transactional for her. Like she knows what he wants and what will keep him happy, he’s the only one she’s really made a connection with other than Homelander and Firecracker, and he is not likely to want anything else from her or blab about it. Somehow he is logically the best one to do it?

- It’s great how much Annie really really doesn’t want Butcher there. And neither does Frenchie. Or M. M. Damn, my babygirl has pissed off a lot of people

- Homelander’s theme is so so good. The lone violin does something to my brain. It highlights his isolation and intimidation and fear so nicely.

- I do not know how some people didn’t know Frenchie was queer? I thought it was actually very obvious that in cannon he is bi/pan and polyamorous. Maybe that was just me…

- Just realized how this episode we have both Hughie and Homelander forgiving people. Dots connected! 😃👍 (I’m not dissecting this right now, what do you think I’m an English major?)

- I love all the Hughie and A-Train moments. There’s so much history between them and it’s so present in those moments so it’s interesting to see them have to let it go to help each other because I think they both realize that they’re both fucked up people who are trying to be good and they ultimately relate to each other in a way I don’t think either of them realizes

- Kimiko telling Hughie to let his dad die, to not use the V, is so so strangely powerful coming from her. She understands what it’s like to have V forced upon you, and to be saved by it time and time again. And although she’s now choosing it, she sees how Hughie’s dad probably won’t end up like her and will find it to be a curse

- Hughie tripping is such a loser move (lovingly) like I thought he got shot in the leg or smt but no he just trips. Like the little fail boy he is.

- I love Kimiko showing Hughie how to fight someone and protect himself and then later helping him walk away (it’s a little funny just because Jack Quaid is really fucking tall). She also gives him the motivation of ‘it’s not just about your survival, it’s about your dads as well’ she wants him getting through this and I cannot handle when the boys show care to each other especially when it’s Hughie and Kimiko

- Homelander’s need to be loved is really really really well set up in previous seasons. It’s the only thing that could control him and he doesn’t know it’s even happening for most of his life because he doesn’t know how to ask for it. The environment he grew up in wouldn’t teach him that and the environment he’s put in pushes away and punishes emotion and care. He started off wanting a family from work because it’s similar enough to the lab but no one there has hurt him yet or appears afraid of him. But as he realizes he can’t gain their care, that he can’t make a family, he leans on the fact he can take most of what he wants. But not love. Not true care.

I think eventually he begins to think there’s something wrong with him, but rather than facing that idea (the idea that he’s unlovable) he pushes harder on the idea he is perfect. He is better. Furthering his decent and pushing everyone even further away.

- Butcher and M.M’s ‘time to fill the audience in’ lines caused me to look up what an enema is. And then left the rest to my imagination. First, fuck you! Second that’s a very good device to use because sometimes not showing and leaving it to the audiences imaginations is the most horrifying (it’s their own private horror show)

- I’m looking at the scene where A-Train and Ashley catch each other and I have a feeling it’s going to play out as either Ashley betrays A-Train to win Homelander’s favour, A-Train betrays Ashley, or they betray each other. I’m fairly certain Sage knows A-Train is switching sides so I wonder if she’ll have a plan for when he gets caught.

I also have a feeling that by the end of this season A-Train is either going to die in some horrible way (maybe by Hughie, maybe Homelander, maybe Butcher even) or he’s going to betray the Boys.

If A-Train does die (pls please do not kill him please) I’m wondering how they’ll do it because his death in the comics wouldn’t make sense here and I feel like SuperSonic’s death was already an homage to that

- I wonder if Ashley’s floater will have any consequences. Like they took the time to set it up. Will Homelander comment on it later?

- The way he says “you called me squirt silly” is so so aughhh. This is probably another moment that Homelander remembers that seems so inconsequential to Marty. He was watched and humiliated all of his childhood and then he gets this one thing to himself and when someone discovers it they laugh, adding so much more humiliation. Anyway I’m um skipping the rest of this scene until Barbara shows up.

- Can we take a second to appreciate how fucking well Nancy Lenehan plays the character of Barbara. There is still so much fear to her character but there is no bullshit, there’s a lot of control in a situation where so little is available. She’s cold while still giving a kind of stern mothering vibe. She explains the situation, all the gory details as facts. Starting with “put him out of his misery” to “they were scared”, you could have left, and you were killing from the moment you were born. She knows begging will get her nowhere but she’s still very very afraid.

- Babygirl moment I will never get over. He fought for his life, he kicked and shoved and he won. How this man is alive is a mystery to me but I’m so glad :)

- Tala finally got to say what she wanted to Kimiko but the look on her face as Kimiko leaves is so.. unsatisfied. It’s not over between them, and maybe it hurts that Tala now sees her being kind and caring because that’s not what she got when she first met Kimiko. Maybe she still wants to get that ice cream. Probably not. Just theorizing about her character. Lemme know what you think

- The worm looks like it’s struggling. Maybe Butcher’s life is connected to its life?

- This episode is kind of like one gory scene to the next. You get Hughie and Kimiko killing, then Annie beating the shit out of Firecracker, then Butcher blowing up Ezekiel, and then you’re back to Homelander’s whole fucking slaughter, then it’s Colin beating up Frenchie, THEN it’s a LOBOTOMY, then it’s a nice little hug awwwe

- Barbara’s monologue. I can’t even touch on that. It’s too much for my brain but I’ve been seeing a lot of good posts about it.

- My heart is full after the Hughie and Annie scene. It is so full of love. Fuck OFF Dakota Bob.

- Hughie and A-Train sittin’ in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-

- “You fucking dog wanker” actually Butcher its dog welder and I wouldn’t compare anyone, let alone Hughie, to him

- Hughie getting told by Butcher not to cure his dad is also really fucking sad. Karl Urban don’t kill Simon Pegg! Instead join the USS Enterprise-

- Daphne tries to get close to Hughie and he rejects her cause he doesn’t feel comfortable crying in front of his mom. Hughie stop being relatable.

- He’s really cute when he smiles. I get it. But he’s also committed atrocities. You cannot fix him. (Which man am I talking about? You’ll never know…)

Here’s a link to the first one because if you got this far I guess you enjoy me talking about this

I’ll probably continue talking about this so if there’s more you will find a link to the post here

[spookyscaryskidnpump]

my thoughts on spooky month 6

copy pasted from a page and a half of google doc. crying. spoilers inbound.putting it under the cut cuz its super long. also swear warning.

Ok to start off LILA. LILA MY GAL NO UR DOING UR BEST AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Im crying im actually fucginf crying. She's trying. So hard. Skid is trying so hard. THEY'RE DOING THEIR BEST PLEASEEEEE. Father Gregor can go EAT SHIT. THEY'RE TRYING AND THAT'S WHAT COUNTS GODDAMNIT.

Susie… Susie no… please… she deserves better istgggggg. What happened to their parents? Are they actually just busy? Are they DEAD? Holy shit what if they're dead. Poor Pump, poor Susie, god please just let these kiddos be ok. PLEASE. ABUELO WONDER IS TYING SO HARD BUT SUSIE KNOWS IT ISN'T REALLY FROM HER PARENTS IM CRYING. SUSIE NOOOOOO

FATHER GREGOR I HATE YOU. ok well he obvs did some good but STILL. GREGOR. STFU GREGOR. I get that hes trying but U CANT JUST SAY ALL THAT SHIT ABOUT JUDGEMENT AND THEN JUDGE HER HER FUCKING HOUSE GOT BROKEN INTO!! YOU DONT HAVE THE FUCKING CONTEXT!!!! ARGHFDGHJSGHJKAGHSD. Also DAMN IS HE A CULTIST NOW?? IS HE DEAD?? WHAT?!?!?!

ROYYYYYY ROY MY BOI NOOOOOO poor guy :( i understand why he hates the kids they DID kinda ruin him so. At least he knows theyre trying now :( and ross n rob just ASSUME he did something bad isnt helping here!!!! I get that theyre also trying to help him and its nice to see him opening up to them about stuff (even if we dont get to know what specifically PELO WHY) but PLEASE get this kid an anger management class or smthn PLEASE. He needs SO MUCH THERAPY. I dont think hes gonna get therapy because im pretty sure his parents are Part Of The Problem but STILL.  Also FUCKER LITERALLY GOT POSSESED BY A DEMON?????? THATS GOTTA BE TRAUMATIC TF

Side note i love ross and robert dearly and i appreciate them doing their best to help on both sides i love them smmmmmm AUGH

KEVIN AND RADFORD FRIENDSHIP REALLLLLLLLLL i am SO fucking happy about that!!!! Also Kevin having conflicted feelings on the kids FAIR. Similar thing to Roy except hes an adult with a semi-functional support network and is able to understand that theyre just dumb kids and they dont actually mean any harm. He’s harsher on the hatzgang cuz theyre teens and old enough to know stealing is wrong but Skid n Pump are little kiddos they dont know better. Also him disapproving of father gregor REAL THO. also HE GOT POSSESSED TOO?? TRAUMA CENTRAL HOLY SHIT

PATTY DESERVES TO HAVE A GUN ACTUALLY. Also JOHN ANGST JOHN ANGST JOHN ANGST! IS HIS KID DEAD? IS HIS DAUGHTER OK HOLY SHIT. ALSO THEM HELPING THE KIDS PROPERLY IM CRYIG AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!

WHAT WAS EVERMORE DOING WITH THE HOBOMEN???? HELLO??????

I SAW THAT CULT NECKLACE UNDER IGNACIOS SHIRT. I FUCKING SAW IT. CALLED IT BITCH!!!!!!

Rick just has the WORST luck lmao

STREBER IS ALIVE LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOO

DEXTER NO PLEASE AUGH…… HIS MOM TOO……

JAUNE AND ROSS’S DAD… HE'S REAL HE EXISTS!! I get ur trying jaune but that is NOT the best way to comfort poor lila… AT LEAST SHES TRYING THO I APPRECIATE HER

THE ENTIRE NEWGROUNDS ENDING?? THE THIEVES AND THE CANDY DEALER IN CAHOOTS WITH THE CULT???? HELLO??????

MOLOCH IS GONE. he deserved it but also THE KIDS ARE SO SAD ABOUT IT? Like they don't really get it but they just watched someone they thought was their friend DIE. HOLY SHIT.

finally. SKID AND PUMP. KIDDOS NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Ok for real tho theyre so much more self aware than the fandom and bulk of the show give them credit for?? Like Skid is VERY aware of his dad being dead/possibly missing and legit just doesn’t wanna talk about it. He knows what death is and he finds fun in it to cope. My poor sweet boyo… and PUMP. PUMP ANSWERING THE CALL AUGHHHHHH HE WANTS HIS PARENTS BACK IM CRYING. SUSIE AND ABUELO ARE DOING THEIR BEST AND HE'S TRYING SO HARD AND AAAAAAAAAAUGH. Also him getting possessed by Moloch while having Star-Eyes basically debunks the theory of the Star-Eyes being a form of possession which is FASCINATING. Anyway that scene with Susie and Pump got me misty eyed and then during the ending with Skid and Lila i actually genuinely started crying. I just want them to be happy. Please let them be happy. Please. PLEASE.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Ryuhei Kuroda x Reader: Flirtations

G/N. You, a lil dense. Ryuhei is Ryuhei.

Ryuhei hasn't made up his mind whether you're dense or deaf... Or selective hearing is more like it.

When he turned his so-called charms on you, you always plastered on an innocent smile and asked him to repeat again what he said.

Well, doesn't that lose its impact the second time round. He rarely repeats his words and slinks away, pride and ego wounded.

Other times you would just outright ignore him. Which is fine, he supposes. He's used to that after pining after Mitsuki for years.

Yet sometimes he would catch you watching him with a look that would make his own face burn.

Sigh. What is a Kagiroi supposed to do?

Am I losing my touch, Ryuhei thinks, Did I even ever have a touch? He looks down at his crotch glumly. Looks like it's just you and me.

.

.

"Hey cutie~" Ryuhei grins, leaning over your desk and wanting attention.

(Ryuhei's style of flirting is less harassment and more playful with you. Sorta.

Him and Mitsuki are one thing, but even Ryuhei knows where to draw the line with most people. It would be a pain if HR got involved, or god forbid, that little bastard Eugene.

Why that twink has taken such a liking to you, Ryuhei would damn well like to know. Hell, why Ryuhei himself has taken such a liking to you, he can't figure out either.)

Brushing his tie out the way, you don't bother peering up at your blonde coworker. You're this close to finishing the document. Just a couple more paragraphs and you can clock out for the day.

You hear him chatter away over the top of your head but your focus remains firmly on the papers. Eyes skimming over the last line, you sign it with your signature and breathe a sigh of relief.

Done.

His voice drifts over as soon as your pen lifts from the page, "You're finished?"

A nod. Ryuhei returns your gesture with a smile. He was aiming for salacious but it comes out sweet.

Then returning back to form, his eyes greedily rove over your figure as you stretch, elongating your body and hands reaching high over your head, hearing your joints crack and pop.

The smile on your face matches his, a bit too sentimental for his heart to take. Your words, however- "So all those times you said you wanted to play, what did you have in mind?"

"W-what?"

"Wanna go for a ride?"

Goddamnit, those are his lines. Did he hear you right? You wanna ride him? Ride his d- "Ride?! Right now?"

"Yep!"

"Me and you?!"

"Sure!"

Ryuhei looks down, feels the first stirring since forever of his little attack dog-

You stand up, legs stiff after sitting down for hours, and pull on your jacket, "You're always going on about it, let's go get your bike!"

Shit.

You meant an actual ride.

Fuck!

Ryuhei plops down on a nearby chair, crossing his legs to hopefully conceal his growing interest.

"...Give me a moment." He mumbles as you tilt your head in confusion.

[wxnheart]

Hello wonderful author. May I mayhaps request a ghoap + reader NSFW peice please. Maybe one that focuses on how Simon loves to make the reader watch him and Johnny 👉🏽👈🏽, or maybe it's reader taking control and making Ghost watch 👀. Johnny deserves a reward mayhaps.

Lol that one request that was like "mm ghoap" had me thinking things

Also keep up the good work! I like being able to sit back and relax and read your stuff!

𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐳𝐚, 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐚𝐩𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

...Because who watches the Ghoapwatchers? (the title may or may not have been an excuse to use this. please don't judge me. a lot. lmao)

Simon smoking can mean one of three things: he's anxious and/or pissed, he's just had some good fucking sex, or... he's anxious and/or pissed. And Simon is pissed.

At whom, might you ask? Well, rejoice, baby, because it ain't you this time even though he still wants to chuck that Live, Laugh, Love sign out of the fucking house. No. Simon's ire is reserved for Johnny, your resident killer Golden Retriever, and only Johnny.

And why, might you ask? Well, your cutie patootie lover boy happened to go and get himself hurt on the latest assignment. A routine one, goddamnit. It was unnecessary. Completely and absolutely unnecessary. And un-fucking-acceptable. At least in Simon's eyes.

Johnny argues that it was only a scratch (he's slightly downplaying it) but Simon doesn't give a fuck because only a scratch doesn't cut it. You got hurt, Johnny. End of story. And Simon's anxiety is through the fucking roof right now so a smoke has to suffice. But it doesn't. Nah, not this time.

Simon who puts out the last of his cigarette while staring Johnny down. You don't know what to do so you keep quiet until he tells you to take a seat next to Johnny. You started to protest until a single look made you shut the fuck up.

Simon who straddles Soap. Because what the fuck? Johnny would put up a fight if not for the fact that the bigger man has him pinned down and... oh. Oh shit. Their dicks are aligned. Wait, wait, Lt.—

Simon who starts to slowly grind against Soap's lap, eyes burning holes into the smaller man's. Soap feels the telltale signs of arousal, that fiery pit in his groin, and your eyes widen at what's taking place. Oh, yes. Johnny's about to get fucked silly in a second. You knew from experience.

Soap whose brow furrows the harder he gets and Simon doesn't stop. Knowing the fucker is just as hard as he is and FUCK—"Lt., wait, I—" "What did you tell me, Johnny?" Ghost doesn't stop grinding against him, doesn't do shit but grind and stare meanwhile Soap's falling apart at the seams. If his mind wasn't turning to mush, he'd be pissed but goddamn.

Simon who forbids you from touching yourself because the last thing you're gonna do is get your rocks off alone. You actually do protest this time ("Simon, what the fuck?") and Simon cuts a look at you, the same look he gave Johnny. The same look that tells you he's gonna fuck you just as silly when he's done with lover boy here. Aw, shit.

Soap whose words are lost to his moans and he's well on his way to soaking the crotch of his pants. And Simon doesn't stop. Not at all. Simon continues and it's like he's expecting an answer. "What did you tell me, Johnny?" Ghost emphasizes it with a particularly rough grind this time, enough for Johnny's already sensitive and leaking dick to throb and oh, god, Lt...

"I—shit, I—said I'd be—I said I'd be careful, Lt." Attaboy, soldier. "...Were you careful, Johnny?" The friction is too much. Simon rubs against him faster, puts a little more pressure on him, and it's a miracle he can even talk let alone think at this point. You're biting your lips, wringing your hands because you wanna touch. Yourself, them, it doesn't matter. You wanna touch and suck and fuck and... suck, fuck, and touch some more.

"Were. You. Careful. Johnny?" Punctuated with his hips. Every. Single. Word. And poor, poor Johnny, lost to the lust. Almost close, what the fuck are you doing to him, Lt.? "—NO," he manages to choke out in between gasps and moans and shit, he feels it coming—

—Well, he felt it coming because just as soon as he answered Simon, the mean bastard got up. Got up and left Johnny hard, crotch soaked with precum, and "What the fuck, Lt.?!"

Simon whose stare is both placid and intense; you'd be forgiven for thinking he's nonplussed. Except there's an obvious tent in his pants. Simon who stares you both down before simply saying "Bedroom." And he walks off. He doesn't look back. Doesn't have to. You'll be there. He's got you right where he wants you.

Soap who doesn't miss a beat, grabs your hand, and pulls you alongside him. Right behind Simon. Right to the bedroom. Yeah, it's about to be a long fucking day. And night.

[jjtheresidentbaby]

HIIIII its @bebbie-bilinski and as mentioned heres the request! sorry i just copy pasted it from our messages lol

ok u know how at first babies r insatiable and wanna be fed every like 2 hours? well that concept but regressed!stiles and cg!derek. BUT!! BUTT!! 1) he did not plan on regressing at all that night and 2) it was a pack night at the loft with the pack so they also have to witness/help out with it (i hc that werewolves need less sleep so they arent too grumpy about it) and 3) stiles is very guilty about it and tries so hard not to bother anyone but got damn it hes grumpy and wants a bottle every 2 seconds lol…ok das it *looks at u with big ol wet pathetic eyes*

also to add to that, maybe at first he doesnt realize -what- he wants he just knows he wants something anyways go crazy

˚. ❝₊˚ insatiable ❞ ˚₊·

» stiles stilinski x derek hale, stiles & the pack

» on my ao3 | word count: 866 | rated: teen & up

» warnings: everyone lives, no one dies!, swearing, guilt, bottle feeding

The loft buzzes with voices and a low thrum of music coming from Erica’s speakers she has set up near the end of the couch- an unnecessary touch of pack night but one that’s quickly become a favorite of everyone attending- and Stiles can’t sit still. It’s not the amount of people surrounding him or even the annoyingly loud laughter Peter’s letting out with Isaac following suit, really that doesn’t bother him that much, he’s just… so hungry.

It’s odd for him to ever be hungry like this. They’ve already cleared five boxes of pizza between the entire pack, werewolves truly know no ends when it comes to hunger. The last thing on Stiles’ mind should be food, he should be engaged in the conversation at hand, at the plan of taking down rouge hunters a couple towns over that Allison heard about from Chris. It’s a much more important matter than whatever Stiles is dealing with right now.

Still, even with his attempts at rationalizing his way out of this feeling, he’s annoyed. He’s hungry and annoyed and goddamnit why isn’t anyone picking up on this? Don’t werewolves have heightened senses? Can’t they tell he’s being deprived of food?

“Stiles? You good?” Erica asks, raising a suspicious brow with her head cocked to the side. He opens his mouth to reply that- no, he is not good- but all that comes out is a garbled mess of attempts at words.

It hits him then- he’s regressed. That’s why he’s so hungry, so upset about nobody swooping in to tend to his needs right this second, and can’t talk properly. A sudden wave of guilt washes over him with the realization.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. His regression has been something he pointedly plans out and keeps on a strict schedule so that it doesn’t interfere with anything to do with the pack, sure they all know he’s a little, but only Derek, Scott and Peter ever get to see his little side. There’s higher stakes when it comes to the other members of the pack- he needs them to trust him, to see him as strong, dependable, not a little kid who needs someone to get him a packet of apple sauce or else he’ll throw a hissy fit. (He won’t do that, he tells himself, but deep down knows that he’s about an hour without food away from it)

All the heads in the room turn to Stiles at his random-noises-trying-to-pass-as-words and Stiles knows that there’s no way he’ll be able to make a run for it now. He sits and watches all their werewolf noses twitch in the air, sans Allison who just stares knowingly; and searches for that signature ‘regression scent’ as Derek and Scott put it. They find it, Stiles knew they would, yet he gets the sudden urge to curl up in a ball and never let anyone look at him again.

“Hey bud, you feeling small?” Derek’s hand is big and familiar on Stiles’ cheek, thumb rubbing soothing circles against the burning red skin as Stiles blushes in embarrassment and ducks his eyes away. His stomach growls and brings him back to the real issue at hand, he’s still hungry.

“Want another piece of pizza?” Boyd smiles softly as he speaks, he’s standing by the last box of pizza that has maybe three slices left. Stiles isn’t sure how to communicate that he isn’t feeling big enough for pizza, or any solid foods, he wants a bottle. It’s the only thing he’d be able to manage right now.

“Or some cheesy bread? I can heat it back up.” Allison suggests, Stiles blinks in surprise that she’s actually offering her cheesy bread that is solely bought for her and nobody else- the pack has already devoured their own box of it.

“I can smell that you’re hungry, what do you want?” Derek moves his hand to brush through Stiles’ hair and a very ill-directed spike of frustration flares in Stiles’ chest at Derek. He can’t get the words out properly, he just wants a bottle, he’s so hungry and feels like he could burst into sobs any second, and- and Derek should know. Stiles needs Derek to know what he wants without him having to say it.

“Here, give him this.” Scott passes a heated bottle over to Peter who hands it to Derek. And Stiles has never loved his best friend more than this moment, Scott’s too busy blowing loose formula powder onto Erica and Isaac to see Stiles gratefully smile at him- he makes a mental note to say something when he’s big enough to have an actual conversation again.

“McCall always knows.” Derek mumbles and sits in the corner of the couch next to Stiles, readily opening his arms so Stiles can curl up against his chest and greedily take the bottle between his lips.

It’s pure bliss the second he starts to drink it down. He hears Derek mutter to Peter to make another one because he’s drinking this one much faster than he normally does but Stiles doesn’t care, he’s just happy he doesn’t have to wail on the floor to get what he wants.

[cerezzzita]

🌙 ˖ . ᵎᵎ nightime mooncakes ✦ 2Bayonetta x Fem!Reader

⌕ synopsis: “There's nothing like spending the night with your beloved Umbra Witch.”

notes: finally took time to work on this wip, a little bit more and it would create spider webs. hey! told you all that I would feed the Bayo fandom, and here I am! I'm happy with how that oneshot resulted good, my writing seems more smooth here. yet ummm, the ending to me it's kinda... meh. hope y'all enjoy it because GODDAMNIT THIS FANDOM NEEDS MORE FOOD MORE FANFICS AM I RIGHT?? oh, how could I forget? this plot was born thanks to this writing prompts list! it's just so good, maybe we'll have more of these with an certain lil red devil hohoho

✦ read on ao3

♡ word count: 628

♡ tags: fem!reader, 2nd pov (you/yours), only the sweetest of the sweet with that adorable sexy witch <3

ⓘ gif's not mine !!

So strongly bluish were the silk sheets that they easily merged with the glimpse of the night sky highlighted by the open window, the light scent of rosemary spread in the room's air made everything even more relaxing and welcoming. A smiling sigh left your lips as your body settled over the silky fabric that enveloped the soft mattress, such contact made every muscle soften and forget for a few seconds any stress you had at that day. 

Not far away, a fragrance of diamond lilies possessed the surroundings, overcoming the scent of rosemary with a hint of freshness as company. Your permanent smile widened, and lying on your side you had a wryly angelic vision of your dear Cereza emerging from the bathroom of your shared room, her short ebony hair being dried gracefully by a terry towel, her body adorned in an amethyst satin nightgown subtly reaching her thighs and the beautiful face without her infamous glasses. She was quick to capture your watchful gaze, cocking corner by corner of her lips a smile of movement so solemnly akin to a cat's dexterity.

“What do you admire so much, my little mooncake?” Cereza articulated the query in her smooth voice and intoxicating accent.

You chuckled through your nose, lying on your stomach, your legs crossed in the air.

“You, obviously.” your answer was steeped in amusement. The smile of your beloved Umbra Witch softened, along with her captivating quartz gray eyes. “Is there another beauty in this room other than you, Cerezita?”

The well-known Bayonetta walked towards you with gentle, feline steps, her long plump legs moving with politeness; she leaned over you and placed both hands on either side of your arms, the veil of avidity dressing every feature of her alluring face.

“I'm looking at her right now,” in a honeyed whisper, Cereza nuzzled the tip of her nose with yours, laughing softly and lovingly. Goosebumps formed trails all over your body in the company of a warm feeling in your inner being.

Embarrassed and without retort, you discreetly pulled your face away from hers, your hands running affectionately like silent snakes from the arms to the shoulders of the Umbra Witch; the mingled scent of rosemary and diamond lilies there on her satiny skin.

Cereza's throat rumbled something like a luscious, delectable purr, her slender body slowly snuggling up to yours. Within seconds, you were both entwined on the azure sheets, laying your head on the witch's ample breasts and circling your arms around her curvy waist. In return, Cereza looped her leg through yours and hugged your torso; breathing in the sweet smell of your hair, occasionally peppering your forehead with butterfly-light kisses.

“Hm…” you did, murmuring against her skin. “I wanna be big spoon this time.”

“But you're tiny,” she couldn't help the short laugh at the end of the sentence, her voice slightly muffled.

You lifted your head with your chin finding support on one of Cereza's soft breasts, your lips forming a ready pout.

“Just this once?”

The Umbra Witch's gray irises stared at your asking features. An ebony brow rising along the left corner of her rosy smile.

“That puppy dog ​​face of yours isn't going to work for me, mooncake,” Cereza pinched the bridge of your nose lightly between her fingers. You grumbled, smiling with warm cheeks.

Your face was guided by the witch's warm hand back to her bust, you closed your eyes and relaxed into the loving arms of your beloved one. For one last time that night, Cereza placed a permanent kiss on your forehead. The comfort of sleep lulled both of you, the most special memory before Morpheus relaxed your mind was a velvety whisper of "I love you" originated from your Cereza.

cerezzzita©, 2022 · all rights reserved ⓘ do not copy, edit, steal or claim as yours

[kristinamae093]

It's me again.... 🤣🤣🤣

Listen.................... This is happening because I recieved this ask earlier, and it got me really pumped. So I've spent all day filtering through all the rough chapters I have of Ghosted and getting reassurance on some ideas (thank you @ao719 🥹😘) which got me even more excited for what's to come 😬. However, that means I did not actuality get around to getting it ready to post 😔.

BUT I'm so excited I needed to do something like RIGHT NOW or I might explode 🤣. I know this isn't even an official thing anymore, but, it is 110% happening so fasten your seat-belts. 🫡🤣

So this is from chapter 8 of Ghosted, which is titled Always Watching. Per usual, there is more than six sentences and everything is subject to change. 🙂🖤

TW - Language (first and last word, oddly enough. 🤣)

“Goddamnit,” Liam growled as he slammed his fist down on the desk he stood beside. “I– I can’t just sit here and wait. I need to do something now.”

“Perhaps we should seek outside help," Olivia interjected.

“What do you mean?”

“I have an acquaintance whose somewhat of a… ‘private investigator’. He’s not cheap, but worth every penny. He can look into Riley and Tariq’s locations, for sure, as well as whatever else you may see fit…”

“I’m not against the idea… but, how would that even work?”

“We can figure out the details later, but I have somewhat of a cover already thought of. I can easily say he’s my driver, or bodyguard, or anything really. Who’s going to question me? Honestly?”

“I want to agree, I really do, it’s just… the last person to get involved with this was… well, you know. Do we really want to put someone else in danger like that?"

“Much as I hate to say it, maybe she's onto something, Li,” Drake admitted with a sour face. “Bas clearly has his hands full, and I know you wanna get some kind of an answer.”

“See? Even the caveman agrees!” Olivia exclaimed, earning her a middle finger from Drake. “Plus, perhaps having another set of capable eyes around will do us some good."

Olivia snickered. "It's cute of you to worry, but he’s more than capable of defending himself.”

"Do it, Liam! DO IT! Or I will myself!" Maxwell exclaimed.

"I don't know…"

"Perhaps he would be interested in a one-on-one interpretive dance class; we could trade one service for another."

"No offense, but how are you gonna pay him?" Drake asked.

Ghosted tags - @ao719 @txemrn @imashybish @queenrileyrose @kingliam2019 @riseandshinelittleblossom @dcbbw @tessa-liam @twinkleallnight @amandablink @cordonia-gothqueen @sfb123 @jared2612 @harleybeaumont @bebepac @charlotteg234 @busywoman @malblk21 @angelasscribbles @bascmve01 @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @mysticalfangirl @umccall71 @fuckitweball0000 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @lovingchoices14 @emersyn-in-cordonia @aussiegurl1234 @karahalloway @the0afnan @nestledonthaveone

"Hate to break it to you, but your dance class ain't worth shit."

[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?

[twsted-idiot]

Lynn’s Transcript

(Ft Maria, Rae(my other family oc) and @/g0ttal0ve101’s oc, Les, will eventually add on @/lelandmylove’s oc Jolene too :3 ‘n the family’s responses)

(Ability- Sweet Nothings:

Match Start

-“Huh…seems like we got company.”

-“Lets get this over with.."

-"Guess I'll have to trick 'em again.."

Feeding Grandpa

-“‘s good, ain’t it?

-“This’d already be over with if you was up ‘nd able…”

-“‘m gettin’ hungry myself..,”

-“Don’t worry, we’re gettin’ it under control, grandpa!”

Victim Found (in hiding spot)

-“Whatcha doin’ in there, doll?"

-"Get outta there, that's my hidin' spot!"

-"Found ya!~" (laughs)

-"Alright, hun, no more hidin'."

-"Awh, guess our game of cat 'nd mouse is over then, sweet face."

Victim Hit

-"Awhhh, that hurt hun?"

-"You ain't getting very far like that...you should just give up now."

-"Quit runnin' 'nd I'll take it easy on ya... just kiddin'" (laughs)

-“

Victim Seen

-“Where ya goin’, doll?”

-“There you are…”

-“Quit runnin’ little bunny..”

-“I won’t hurt ya..not too bad at least” (laughter)

Victim seen v2/Ability used

-“Help..! (Sob) Please…”

-“I…don’t know who you are…but we should stick together, I think I know a way out.”

-“Hey! Over here! I found a way out…”

-“(sob) help me..please…”

-“You look like shit..”

Blood trail

-“Ooh…you left a trail, sweet face.”

-“(giggle) Someone ain’t doin’ too good..”

-“Yer losin’ an awful lotta blood.”

-“Yer bloods supposed to be in yer body, y’know~“

Idle

-“I didn’t wanna kill her…I really didn’t..I wish I coulda just kept her in my room..”

-“Hopefully mama’s proud of me after this…I really hope so…I don’t think she likes me too much…well..I mean, I know she does..just not as much as Johnny..”

-“Maybe I can keep one of them tied up in my room…I’ll have to keep her quiet though…”

-“(huff) what the hells this draggin’ out for?”

-“I wonder if he still wants me dead sometimes…nah…probably not.”

Victim seen escaping

-“Shit, shit, shit!” -“Oh no…mama’s gonna be pissed…”

-“Goddamnit…maybe Nubbins’ll catch ‘em down the road…”

-“You slippery sumbitch!” -“Hey! Our game of cat ‘nd mouse wasn’t over yet..”

Ability Denied

-“Nah…they won’t fall for it.” -“Not yet..”

-“They’ve already seen me…”

-“Ain’t none of ‘em nearby.”

Close encounter

-“I might be small, but I’ll still slit yer throat!” -“This’d be a lot easier if you’d just sit still”

-“You ain’t gonna win, hun.”

Execution

-“Told ya, you weren’t gonna last much longer”

-“Hm~ looks like our game of cat ‘nd mouse is over.”

-“Don’t worry, you’ll be joinin’ yer friend.”

(female victim only) -“‘s a shame..I coulda kept you tied up in my room..oh well~!”

Maria seen

-“Oh shit…that’s that damn girl!” -“She’s still alive?!” -(sigh)”Damnit Johnny..”

-“He must’ve really liked her…”

-“What the hell…whatever, I’ll catch that bitch myself.”

Drayton/The Cook seen

-“Quit yellin’ at me..christ..”

-“‘m sure Johnny didn’t mean to make this damn mess..”

-“what’s for dinner tonight?” -“Goddamnit old man, stop fuckin’ yellin’ at me. I’m workin’ on it!”

Nubbins/Hitchhiker Seen

-“..watch where yer pointin’ that knife, yeah?”

-“d’ya wanna see some bugs I found after we clean this mess up?” -“you should show me how to make some of them traps sometime..”

-“Grandpa’ll be real proud of us!”

Johnny seen

-“Don’t worry ‘bout it too much…’m sure it’ll be long forgotten as soon as this is over.” -“Y’think Nancy’ll be proud of me after this..?” -“I’m tryin’ to find her, Damnit!” -“Why do you fool around with them girls anyway? It makes Rae real jealous…”

Sissy seen

-“Don’t worry, I ain’t stepping’ in yer flowers..”

-“Where’d you learn to make that poison anyhow? It’s real helpful..”

-“Good thing it’s wildflower season, huh? Maybe after this I can help ya gather some more.”

-“That poison stuff smells real good but it stings like a bitch..”

Nancy Seen

-“I’ll find em, don’t worry!” -“Y’think I should try to trick em?” -“Any luck..? …we’ll get ‘em”

-“I know a real good spot to put one of them traps!”

Bubba Seen

-“How the hell don’t you get tired swingin’ that thing around? My arms hurt just carryin’ it..”

-“Yer doin’ a real good job! Get those sumbitches!” -“Yer real good with that saw…”

-“Don’t listen to ‘em yellin’ at you, they just wanna get this shit over with..”

Hands Seen

-“I barely know you, ‘nd I already know yer nothin’ but trouble. Stay the hell outta my way.” -“You may be big, but height ain’t gonna save ya if you keep showin’ up for no good damn reason!” -“I dunno why the hell Johnny likes you so much…’s beyond me.” -“Just…get outta my way ‘nd set some of those freaky ass traps..”

-“You taught Johnny? Hah! Bullshit.”

Les seen

-“Bullet’s real good at finding’ em..”

-“You should have Bullet flush ‘em out, ‘nd then we can catch em!”

-“‘ya wanna go swimmin’ out back later? ‘S hotter than hell out here..”

-“Yer gettin’ really good at this!”

Rae Seen

-“‘m sure Johnny didn’t really like that girl…”

-“If I find her, I’ll drag her to ya so you can make sure she’s dead, yeah?”

-“Yer real good with that axe!”

-“you ain’t the only one that ain’t actually apart of this family..so…I get it. I dunno what Drayton’s got against you though..”