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anasanthology · 10 months

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Always Close Your Tabs.

WARNINGS: NSFW 18+ MDNI (I don’t care who reads just if your account age is set to under 18 don’t interact please), step-cest, pseudo-incest, stepbrother/stepsister pairing, degradation kink, light face slapping, very light praise kink, Dom/Sub, lowkey Hard Dom!Leon Kennedy, face fucking, oral (m receiving), mean Leon (I feel he’s a little ooc), like one mention of breeding kink, we got a little sweet aftercare at the end, not as tame as other stuff I’ve written, fem-specific gendered terms. Not proofread.

Notes: FIRST LEON FIC I’M POSTING 😚 actually feeling kinda good about this one! I felt like finishing this and posting it today so here so go!!! I hope you like it ☺️ as always, likes and—especially—comments are very VERY much appreciated 😌 if you have any tags you think I should add just tell me cause I’m not sure if I missed any 🧐 ANYWAYS, enjoy, lovelies 💕

4.5k words | Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Reader

The couch was irritating you, you were hyper aware of it, the texture, the firmness, everything about it. It didn’t matter where you sat though, everywhere was irritating. Everything was irritating. Your parents were out of town on some dumb anniversary. No. Your parent and her husband. Leaving you home alone with your stepbrother.

Leon.

He was annoying. He was rude, crass, and bitchy. When your mom had told you she was seeing a guy you were happy for her, until she told you that he had a son a few months older than you. Other kids was the one dealbreaker for you, but your mom loved this man so much and you didn’t exactly have much time left to live with her. You could deal with it. So you met Leon, he didn’t talk the entire dinner but to introduce himself and then order something. This was 8 months ago.

Now you live with him.

You were sure that there were worse people to live with, like… Bundy or Dahmer maybe. He always had those loudmouth friends of his over. Chris, who would spend the whole time yelling at the tv and Luis, who would just flirt with you the whole time. The worst of it was that they would only hang out in the living room so you were always confined to your room till they left. That was unless you wanted to hear, ‘ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! THAT DIDN’T EVEN TOUCH ME,’ and, ‘Hola, señorita, ¿Qué pasa? You look gorgeous,’ which… you didn’t wanna hear that. Not to even mention how insufferable he was when they weren’t around. Which was the situation now. Sitting on the couch next to you was Leon Kennedy, staring up at the tv watching Desperate Housewives. He had this constant resting dick face that never seemed to go away, and along with that he also seemed to be followed by resting dick air everywhere he went. Especially now that his dad took away his phone and other electronics before your guys’ parents left for their trip. Because apparently that man cared jack shit for your sanity. Now, Leon was irritated. He was insufferable when he was irritated. It just radiated off of him and you were a porous permeable surface. You guys sat like that until…

“Can I use your laptop?”

“What?” You turned to him, his words bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Can I use your laptop?” He repeated himself.

“Uh… sure, I guess?” Shrugging you got off the couch before stopping in your tracks and pointing at him, “but I get to use your car!” Your eyes widen with excitement and you point at him.

“No, no way. You are not driving my car. Not gonna happen.” He huffed in amusement and shook his head.

“And why not?” Your hands went to your hips and you made a face.

“Because,” he mocks your tone, “you’ll crash it.”

“Says you! Leon, you are like the king of bad driving. You hit a tree last month! A tree! They don’t even move and they’ve been there for like years!” Your hands were flying everywhere at this point. You had your license, but since Leon was a little older and got his a little before you he got a car. And since he got a car—and only Jeff Bezos could comfortably pay for his car insurance—you didn’t get one, you had to share with your mom and stepdad. But since they were halfway across the country, you were stuck here.

“It was in my blind spot!”

“What about that mailbox last week? Or Ms. Anderson’s side mirror? Everything can’t be in your blind spot, Leon. That’s what windows are for.” you close your eyes and sigh, “you know what, I don’t care. Bottom line is, if you don’t let me drive your car, no laptop.” You knew you were reaching, but you didn’t care. It’s not like you lost anything if he said no. It wasn’t fair he got the car anyways, your mom promised you a year ago on your birthday that when you got your license she’d take you to a used car dealership and you could pick one. But apparently ‘situations change’ and ‘things don’t always go as planned’, so you were left having to explain to your friends that it actually wasn’t gonna happen. Leon could practically burn holes through your face with the way he was looking at you, honestly that’s probably what he was thinking about. He sighs and closes his eyes.

“Fine.” He opens his eyes and gives you just about the brattiest look imaginable. You just smile and giggle. Your eyes widened in surprise. You were not expecting him to actually say yes.

“Okay!” You practically sprint upstairs to your room, grabbing your laptop off the bed. You make your way back downstairs and bring it to him. “Here ya go!”

“Thanks.” He takes it with a scowl and gets up.

“Whaddya need it for anyways?”

“Because I wanna watch stuff.” He responds flatly.

“What kinds of stuff?” ‘Porn?’ Was your first thought, but you opted not to verbalize that.

“Stuff you can’t watch on the tv?”

“Yes.”

“Why not?” You blinked at him.

“Because you’re watching the tv in here, dingus.” He didn’t look guilty. You know, like you would if you were gonna use your stepsister’s laptop to watch porn off of. He just looks annoyed. “Can I go watch some shit now or you gonna keep interrogating me, detective?”

“Jeez, moody. Sure, go.” You shoo him and turn back to the tv as you sit on the couch. He walks away to his room and you lay back covering your face with your arm. It felt like a weight had been lifted, the tension gone immediately. Part of you wanted to say it was just because he made the air so thick with irritation he could suffocate a room, but you knew that wasn’t completely true…

Leon was hot, like crazy hot.

It was frustrating being around that all day and night. Eating dinner across from an actual model… not easy. It was especially not easy when that model was a sarcastic asshole, and it was especially especially not easy when you kinda liked it. Yes every comment pissed you off, made you want to scream sometimes, punch a hole in the wall. but it also had you wondering… ‘would he… I mean in bed did he…’ god you hoped so. ‘Ew, no you didn’t.’ It was dumb—and entirely inappropriate—but that’s all you could think about when he was around. At some point all the irritation and hatred you had for him just living here, turned into… something you shouldn’t think about.

But who cares.

You didn’t have time to think about that. You had much more pressing matters to attend to, like… desperate housewives. You sit up and lay your body on top of your legs like you were folding yourself in half. You looked up at the screen and flipped onto your back kicking your legs over the back of the couch. It was like you just couldn’t get comfortable no matter what.

“Mmmmmuuhhhhhh.” Sighing you sat back up like normal, pulling the blanket off the back of the couch and onto your tired form. And then it hit you.

The computer.

‘Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.’ Standing up abruptly you started making your way to Leon’s room, practically running up the stairs.

You were tired last night. Really, really tired.

So maybe, just maybe, you forgot to close out of a tab last night. Or maybe a couple. Besides it is your computer, why do you need to close out of anything? You don’t, or at least you don’t when your step brother isn’t using your computer.

“Leon, I need my computer.” You knocked at his door and turned the knob quickly. Locked, of fucking course. “Leon?” Bouncing around a little on the balls of your feet, impatiently you step back from the door and shake the tension out of your hands. ‘Maybe he didn’t see it. Maybe he… didn’t even get on the computer yet. “Leon, I don’t… I don’t need your car. It’s fine, I asked Claire and she said she’d drive me this week.” His door opens like that’s exactly what he was waiting to hear.

“Okay, fine. Take it.” He steps away from the door and you walk inside, looking back at him you take extra attention to his expression. He definitely knows. You just turn back unable to think about that for too much longer, your face burning with heat as you pick up your laptop off of his bed. You feel a pair of hands snake around your waist and you tense up. “But first, I have to know why my slutty little sister thought it was a good idea to give me her laptop with porn open.” It was like your brain took a screenshot. ‘Did he just…’

“I don’t… Leon, I’m sorry. I didn’t-I forgot.”

“Oh you’re such a liar.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “No, I think you did it on purpose. You’re such a smart girl, I don’t believe you could be so stupid.” Your breath got heavier at his accusation.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I fell asleep ‘nd forgot it was on there.” He didn’t respond but his hands started running up and down your sides. “Leon, stop teasing me.” Your voice came out just a whiny whisper, sounding a lot more needy rather than urgent like you meant it.

“You know, I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be into that sort of stuff. Always get so nervous when Luis flirts with you, always get so flustered when people touch each other in a movie.” He was ignoring your request completely. “But it makes sense now, you get all shy cause you like it.” Your eyes widen and you squirm in his arms, not exactly trying to get away. Not really trying to get away at all actually. “Wonder how many times I’ve been sitting with you on the couch while your cunt gets all wet. So shameless, darling.” Your body is frozen in embarrassment, it’s kinda hot. ‘God. Don’t think like that Jesus.’

“No, never,” Liar. “Leon, I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Yet you aren’t trying to stop me, are you?” His voice is so completely self assured and cocky. Asshole. It made you so wet. You aren’t trying to stop him. You don’t want him to stop, even though you should. He pulls his hands back a little for you, so that if you want to get out you can. Without as much internal protest as you’d hoped, you stay completely still. “See, I was right. You are just a little slut who wants to get touched by her stepbrother.” You visibly cringe at that but feel slick spill into your panties at his words.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” His hands go back around you, pulling you close to him. You could feel the outline of his hardened cock against you.

“Stop… being weird.” You shifted around in his arms.

“How am I being weird?” He snickered.

“Because you’re… stop saying it like that?” Your face was burning at this point. He was pushing up against you, pressing your hips against the edge of his bed.

“Saying it like what? Isn’t that exactly what’s going on? A dumb whore getting wet for her brother?”

“Leon.” His hand dipped down the front of your pants, running his finger down your clothed slit.

“Oh but why? It feels like you like it when I talk to you like that. I mean… given the videos you were watching, I bet you like it.” You pushed up against him. You just want him closer, it doesn’t matter if it’s wrong. He knew what he was doing, making you feel small, degrading you. “You do like it, fuck.” He started grinding himself against your back. You did like it, you wanted him to keep going, keep making you feel small.

“No it… Leon, it’s weird.”

“I know it is, but you like it. You like how depraved it makes you feel. You can’t deny it, I quite literally have seen the stuff you watch to get off.” He was laughing a little, it only amplified how hot and humiliating this was. “Can’t say I haven’t thought about it. Everytime you’d roll your eyes when I’d tease you all I could think about was taking it further, pinning you against the counter or the couch and just telling you anything I could think of.”

“Thought you said you didn’t think I’d be into this?”

“You can be into anything I want you to in my fantasies.” His other hand snakes up to start running his thumb up and down the column of your throat. This really should not have such an effect on you, but it does. Your eyes flutter and you let out a soft needy breath as you lay your head back against him. “Oh you like that? You like that I just imagine you in any position I want?” You nod your head reluctantly. Your lips open and close but no sound comes out. He’s barely even touched you but it feels like your tongue is twisted up in your mouth. You can feel your resolve just slipping away the more he speaks to you, the more he touches you.

“Leon, this is… this is so wrong…” your voice comes out so quiet you aren’t sure he could hear you. Or maybe it’s just because the blood pounding in your ears is so loud that you can barely hear yourself.

“But you like that don’t you? Yeah, I know you do.” His finger travels further up to slide across your bottom lip. Involuntarily—you tell yourself—your lips part slightly. He just laughs softly behind you, the smirk that was undoubtedly plastered on his face was audible. “Does this slutty girl want something in her mouth? There you go…” he slides his finger past your lips and onto your tongue. His thumb starts pushing slow thrusts against your tongue. Your hands go to hold onto his forearm feebly, not trying to move or stop him but just needing something to hold onto. “Yeah? You like it when I finger your pretty little mouth?” You just whine and start sucking around his thumb. “Fuck, bet you’d do so good on my cock.” You turned around to face him.

It was stupid, and you don’t know why you did it… yes you do, liar.

“What?” He grinned down at you. Now being able to see your lips around his thumb he couldn’t get enough of it. You knew you were turned on but holy shit you weren’t expecting him to look like… that. His mouth was slightly parted and his eyes were lidded. A light blush dusts his cheeks. God he looked good. You imagined you probably looked something similar, probably worse. “I asked you a question.” He pulls his thumb from your mouth and slides it down your chin and across your neck. ‘Oh, right.’

“I um… can I?” You swallowed heavily, barely able to focus on your words with his fingers rubbing at your soft skin.

“‘Can you’ what?” He just laughs, he can tell you’re struggling. Your face heats up with embarrassment realizing just how fuck-drunk you already are. And then he just gets the cockiest look on his face. “Oh, you wanna suck my cock? That what this is?” You just nod weakly, you couldn’t deny it if you tried. “Hmm? I can’t hear you, what do you want?”

“I wanna…” you swallow thickly, “I wanna suck your cock, please.” You chewed on the inside of your lip and just looked at him. He felt like he could just about cum from how needy your voice sounded when you said ‘please’.

“Fuck,” his hand slide up your neck and went to the back of your head. “I know you do. Now get on your knees.” His hand tangled in your hair right up against your scalp and he tightened his grip a little, pulling your head back ever so slightly in the process. The way he was talking to you, how he was treating you, all like you were just some object for his pleasure… fuck, it made you wet. If this situation could possibly get any worse from you guys just doing anything at all in the first place, getting turned on from your stepbrother degrading and objectifying you would definitely make it worse. You moaned softly when he pulled your hair as you started to kneel down in front of him slowly, struggling to resist the urge of responding ‘yes, sir.’ When your knees were on the ground and you finally stopped shifting around to get as comfortable as possible you finally realized the position you were in.

You were on your knees in front of your stepbrother about to suck him off…

But at this point, all thought or consideration of morality and shame had long been lost on you. Instead the lewdness of the situation only fueled the fire and part of you was just getting off on how wrong this was. You felt filthy and all it did was make you want to continue. ‘Shit, what the hell is wrong with me?’, would be what you’d typically be thinking. And you were, just less in a self-deprecating way and more in a self-humiliation way. You bite your lip at the site in front of you, Leon’s clothed hard cock in his gray sweatpants. He had noticed how fixated you were and tilted his head at you with a smirk.

“You want it?” You just stared up at him and moved your hands up to his thighs as you slid them up. “I asked you a question, answer me.” He pulled your hair a little harder this time and you moaned a little louder.

“Yes, wan’ it, Leon, please.” You were completely breathless. It had felt like your mind had turned to mush. You hadn’t even registered his question as a question when he asked, you just wanted to touch him.

“Yeah, I know.” He pushed your head forward till your cheek was pressed up against his cock. “Pretty little cockwhore just wants me inside her.” Your breath quickened when he started grinding up against your face. “Or she just wants to feel me however I please.” His voice was teasing now and he just ground down against you harder.

“However you please, just… Leon, need you.” You barely even sounded like yourself anymore. Normal you would have just pushed him away in the beginning as you made your second-hand embarrassment apparent. Normal you would have known that that was one of the easiest ways to mess with someone and would have totally used it. But here you were instead, a strong-willed smart girl who never pulled any punches now on her knees getting debased completely and absolutely loving it.

“Mmm, you’ll let me use you however I want? What if this is how I wanna do it? What if I just wanna take my cock out and rub it against your face till I cum all over you?” Even in this state you knew he was trying to trap you. He wanted to get you to disagree so he could hear you begging for whatever you really wanted. But you wouldn’t disagree, cause you don’t.

“Even then, just anything you want.” He grinned at your reply. He was tempted, he really was, but after wanting you for so long he wasn’t gonna waste this chance just to prove a point. ‘Next time.’ He pulls your head back just a little so he can see your face. Your lips are slightly parted and you just stare up at him with a grazed over expression.

“Take it out.” He says firmly and raises his eyebrows. You look down at his crotch and bring your hands up to take his dick out of his pants. You feel a sudden sting on your cheek as he slaps you across the face. “No, look at me.” He grabs your jaw and tilts your face up towards his. You make eye contact with him as you start undoing the string on his sweatpants. Part of you wants to look away just so that he’ll slap you again but you don’t. You start pulling his sweatpants and underwear down till his cock swings free. Your eyes dart down to his dick and are only able to just barely register what you’re seeing before he slaps you again just a little harder. “Did you not hear what I said to you? Look. At. Me.” You moan softly and shake your head.

“I heard you, ‘m sorry I was just curious.” You sound a little like you’re about to cry but you’re far from sad about all this.

“You’re curious?” He mocks your voice and pouts his lip before scoffing and leaning down ever so slightly. His thumb caressing your neck. “Don’t worry, once I fuck this little throat you’ll have every answer you could possibly ask for.” You shudder a little before just nodding your head and opening your mouth. You loll your tongue out and he grins. “Yeah, stay like that.” He slaps his heavy tip on your tongue and you can taste the bitterness of his pre-cum. “Open wider.” You obey him and open your mouth further. He leans forward and spits in your mouth. Your eyes flutter and you press your thighs together, which doesn’t go unnoticed. “You like that?” He laughs and rubs one of his fingers over your tongue. “You like it when I spit in your mouth? Fucking disgusting.” He grips his cock and guides it onto your tongue before pushing into your mouth. He groans and holds your head back against the side of his bed before he starts thrusting into your mouth. “Mmm, fuck. Such a good girl with a slutty little mouth. What would your friends say if they knew you’re getting face fucked by your stepbrother, and loving it so much you’re practically dripping onto the floor? What would your mom say?” You really didn’t wanna think about his second question.

“Mmm.” You just hum around his cock in response and he smirked. It’s not like you could actually respond. You kept your eyes on him, loving the way his jaw tightened when he hit the back of your throat. Or the way the muscles in his arms would twitch and flex under his tight shirt. He was right, you did love this and you could feel the discomfort of your sticky panties between your thighs, damp and uncomfortable. His hand went to the top of your head to grip your hair between his fingers and he started pushing in faster.

“Mmh, oh fuck… love sucking on your big brothers cock, yeah? Such a fucking cockwhore it doesn’t matter who it’s from.” He was thrusting at a fervent pace and it was evident he was just chasing his own high. Using your mouth as his personal fleshlight to fuck and fill. It was hot being treated like this, especially by Leon. He tightened his hold on your hair and pushed in a little too far which made you choke. It made slick pour into the gusset of your panties. Fuck, he was right. You’re a total slut. Your hands went up to hold onto his thighs for support as your eyes closed. Spit drooled down your chin and onto your chest, tears poured down your cheeks which Leon took pleasure in wiping away. “Maybe next time you’ll let me fuck that pretty pussy. Bet she’s just crying for me, you are.” ‘Next time?’ The thought made your skin burn with arousal. “Think you’re gonna let me fill up all your holes. Fuck. Yeah, I wanna see that. My obedient little stepsister leaking cum onto my bed, absolutely spent. Such a fucking whore you’d probably ask me to do it again. Fuck your little pussy till it’s sloppy and bred.”

He wasn’t even looking at you. His head tilted back and his hips stuttered. You could tell he was getting close.

“I’m gonna cum down this slutty throat and you’re gonna swallow it all and thank me.” His face and neck were a little red and he had this sheen of sweat that the light from his lamp bounced off of. He looked like some kind of angel and if he wasn’t aggressively fucking your face you might’ve actually believed he was. “Fuck, oh take it.” He moaned and pushed his cock to the back of your throat. You could feel his hot cum paint stripes into your mouth. He rutted his tip right against the back of your throat while he moaned and mumbled. “Good girl, good girl. Take it, baby.” He pulled back out of your mouth and looked down at you while he stroked himself a few times to make sure he was done. A little bit of cum spilled from his tip and onto your thigh. You could finally swallow now that he was out of your mouth and god it felt good. You opened your mouth to show him that you really did it.

“Thank you.” You smiled up at him softly and he shuddered at your words. He looked away from you and cursed as his face got red. He was just talking earlier; he didn't think you’d actually do it.

“Quit it, you’re gonna make me hard again.” He seemed a little embarrassed. He moved your hair out of your face and went to the bathroom across the hall. You heard water running for a bit and then he came back and kneeled in front of you. He silently used a warm rag to wipe away the dried tears from your face and the little bit of cum that spilled onto your chin. “There you go.”

“Thank you.” He wiped away the bit that was on your thigh and you guys just stared at each other for a second. It wasn’t really awkward but more like each of you had something to say that you just wouldn’t.

He leaned forward and kissed you. It was soft and sweet and you had plenty of room to move away if you didn’t want it. There was such a contrast from what you were doing now and what you had been doing, hell, how he was acting with you now and how he had always acted with you; it felt like it was short circuiting your brain, but in a good way. He pulled back and set the rag on his bedside table before picking you up and setting you on his bed. He crawled in next to you and put his arms around you. It felt a little weird but in a nice comforting way. It was something you really needed. You almost forgot that you had been sucking him off—if you could even call it that—like two minutes ago. You really weren’t tired but you laid there with him for who knows how long.

Maybe you really didn’t hate having a stepbrother.

#anasanthology #anyas world #anya’s world #leon kennedy #fanfic #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #stepbro!leon #stepbro!leon Kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #stepcest #leon kennedy x fem reader

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azullumi · 1 year

Text

summary — cuddling times with you and him.

characters — kaveh, alhaitham, tighnari, cyno, wanderer (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff, cuddling, established relationship, not proofread; headcanons

words — 1373

note — trying to get back to writing after like being stressed for the past few days but im fine now but anyways, have this ^^

kaveh

He's a very cuddly man and he always have the time to cuddle, often wanting to keep you close to him even if it's just in those small and simple moments like sleeping together underneath the same sheets—thus he doesn't have any favorite position as long as he gets to feel you so closely against him.

He doesn't mind either being the big spoon or the small spoon, it all just depends on the mood to be honest. If he wishes to be comforted or protected, he'll rather be the one being held and if it's just his normal sappy mood or if he wants to become something like a protective figure to you as you try to sleep, he's going to be the big spoon.

He's so insufferably clingy, always wanting to kiss, hug, and cuddle as much as possible—he wouldn't let another day pass without him not getting to feel your warmth in his arms and being comforted as he dwells in your peace. He just loves the idea of how intimate and affectionate a simple action could be, of how it can bring two different people closer, of how a peaceful and silent moment could be so loud and be filled with love, and he loves it more because he's doing and spending it with you.

If he would be given a chance for the two of you to be one, snuggling and merging one another like puzzle pieces settling on the board and forming an image, he would instantly grab on it but this is the closest he’ll ever get and even if it's only that, he'll take it.

alhaitham

He can and he will cuddle you in any situation despite not asking for it, he just always tries to cuddle as much as he can.

One moment, you'll be walking around the room while trying to accomplish something then the next he's pulling you towards him and you find yourself in a position where your back is facing him and he's wrapping his arms around you as he tries to fall asleep, having you as some sort of pillow that gives him all the comfort and warmth he needs. You just find yourself often being disturbed or distracted because of how needy he gets.

Taking a break from any activities or tasks like studying or just resting overall will only lead you to on a bed or a couch—or maybe on the floor if you two are fine with the cold and hard feeling of it—and being in each other's cradle, embraced and locked in one another's arms as you silently breath against one another, sharing one's thoughts, and exchanging gentle and tender words.

While snuggled in each other's embrace, he loves to talk and listen to you do so and oftentimes, cuddling times with you ends up in a discussion about any topics that could be strange or weird—yet you still entertain each other—it varies and it's a wonder that you two never seem to run out of ideas inside your head; "Have you ever thought about how a snake would walk if it has legs? Will it have two and walk while standing or will it have four or more? Honestly, how many legs will it even have?"

wanderer

Always chooses to be the big spoon, however, if the roles were to be switched and he’s the one being cradled and held in one’s arms instead, he wouldn’t mind and would, in fact, love it—although he wouldn’t outright admit it. Perhaps he had never told you about how he feels safe in your arms, being comforted by the sense of security you give him as if you’re protecting him from any harm that comes to threaten but you you could tell it from the way he just lets you wrap your arms around him without complaint and cradle him like a small child.

He can get extremely touchy, his hands not settling on a single spot and would often be roaming around your body, trailing your skin, playing with your fingers, drawing shapes on the back of your palm, and everything. He just wishes to feel all of you, every inch of you, and he takes this moment when the two of you are nestled in each other's arms as a chance.

He loves it when he sneaks his hand, especially when it's feeling cold, underneath your shirt and feeling your skin on his palm which catches you off-guard and startles you—seeing your reaction makes him chuckle every time. He wouldn't remove his hand though if you were to say so, only reasoning that he needs to keep both he and his hands warm even if it's not that cold.

He would complain how his arms are feeling sore already but try to even budge and move away and he'll raise an eyebrow at you, asking you what you are trying to do—I mean, he never said or told you to leave.

tighnari

He likes being held, he loves laying his head on your chest or burying his face on the crook where your neck meets your shoulders while you could play and twirl strands of his hair on your finger or while you rub his back and draw circles on it, he especially loves it when you massage his scalp and comb your hand through his hair.

Comfort cuddles are fairly something that would commonly happen between you two. He loves those instances wherein you’re holding him to your chest as you allow him ease himself while you lull him to sleep with the sound of your heartbeat while perhaps as you talk to him in a gentle voice.

He mostly seeks out to hug and cuddle whenever his stress levels are too high and he needs to relax himself so cuddling times often happens either during the afternoon or after his occasionally stressful patrols and duties, oftentimes when the day ends and the two of you have nothing left to do. Honestly, he looks for you when he's being overwhelmed by his feelings, whether jealousy, sadness, joy—it's just that your warmth brings him so much comfort and helps him in grounding himself.

Well, he's not the only one being comforted here, it is also you, even if it's just in a small gesture that he does while drawn close to each other. It could be the way he drags his fingers across your skin or ghosts his touch over you, in a manner that doesn't tickle you but simply in just desiring to touch your skin and feel what's underneath it.

cyno

The two of you mostly spend your time cuddling in silence and sleeping, there's no conversations being held and only rarely will it happen. However, it's not a dreadful silence nor is it an uncomfortable one but it's one of languidness and tranquility.

He doesn't move a lot in his position, only staying in one, and it makes you wonder if his body gets sore or anything because of how still he is while cuddling each other—you can offer to massage his shoulders and if he would allow you, you could feel how stiff his shoulders are and you couldn't tell if it's because of the heavy burden of the responsibilities resting on top of it or if it's how he holds you so much, so close, and so still when he wraps his arms around you.

He can cuddle you for hours and wouldn't easily let you go if you try to leave even if his hold on you isn't not that tight and even when he is also asleep—he has never told you of how he hates that feeling of absence right beside him, on the side of your bed, when he wakes up.

Cuddling, holding, and being up against each other is one thing he looks forward to in each day, he just simply adores the way you feel, the way your chest rises and falls, the feeling of your breath fanning his skin as he holds you against him, listening to he relaxed beating of your heart that gently lulls him. He just adores having you underneath the touch of his fingertips and in between his arms.

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zhongliologist · 1 year

Text

Research Hazards | 30 Nights Series

Pairing: Alhaitham x afab!reader x Kaveh

Genre: SMUT

Content Warning: threesome, double penetration, blowjob, cunnilingus, anal, creampie, trapped

Words: 5.7k

A/N: Happy Holidays! This is my present to y'all who're still here lmao Anyways, this is part of a series that I barely started, so I won't promise I'll post regularly. Consider this an advance ksksksks Also please ignore genshin lore stuff in this fic, i took all the liberties i had so it's not accurate lmaooo

Tagging: @yostresswritinggirl i know you've been waiting for this lmaooo

Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

There are three types of people in the world when faced with a life or death situation.

The first one tends to be a little too overdramatic.

“This can’t be the end! I have so many projects to do, so many masterpieces to make! Al-haitham, you take responsibility for this! If you didn’t insist that we take this route, we could have been out by now!”

The second prefers to be more logical; the problem solver.

“Don’t be so pathetic, Kaveh. How about you use that brain of yours to find a way out instead? Out of us three here, you’re the most knowledgeable with machinery. You should know at least one loophole.”

And the last one is what people would call an “opportunist”.

“Take your flirting somewhere else, you two. I’m in the cusp of an academic breakthrough. This room is like no other! Completely unique from all the ruins attributed to the god of time! So exciting!”

“We are not flirting!” “Your imagination knows no boundaries, YN.”

You shrugged, crouching near an impression on the wall. “Hm. Whatever you say.”

This unique arrangement, or whatever it was, simply formed out of necessity.

As students of the Akademiya, it was required to submit a final research paper before graduating—a cumulative opus of all the learnings and skills one has acquired through their time as a student. You never had any trouble in writing your own paper, but the subject you chose was a behemoth, a wide gap in the tree of knowledge that has yet to be studied thoroughly. Despite your brilliance however, you only had one brain and that was hardly enough to tackle the mystery of the god of time. Besides, you needed the expertise from the other Darshans to make full sense of any discovery, and they probably need your expertise as well—a win-win situation, in your honest opinion.

And that was how you ended up with Al-haitham and Kaveh—geniuses, yes, but probably the most insufferable pair in the entire Akademiya.

“Al-haitham, Kaveh,” you called out as you stood up from your position and walked towards the two with notebook in hand. Al-haitham was standing front of a wall, trying to decipher what was written, while Kaveh was busy studying the walls of the room.

“Have you figured it out?” Al-haitham asked, looking up. He was always the sensible one between the two, but only when it comes to intellectual pursuits.

“No, not yet, but I do need a sounding board,” you replied, standing beside him. “An alternative assessment, if you will.”

“Fine by me. We’ll listen to your ideas first before we share our own thoughts,” Kaveh said as he stood before the both of you.

“So our current predicament is that we’re trapped in this room, which was triggered when we stepped on that platform, causing the walls to cave in on us. If we want to get out, we have to at least understand what had trapped us and why.”

Both men nodded at you. Al-haitham glanced at you, his stare a little too long than normal.

“Makes sense. Go on.”

You cleared your throat to divert your attention to the subject at hand. “Well, here’s the thing. Previous research claim that these ruins are dedicated to the god of time, yet now that I’m here seeing it with my own two eyes, touching it with my two hands, I have to disagree. And I believe the both of you think the same way.”

Kaveh and Al-haitham exchanged glances, yet it was Kaveh who first spoke. “While it is important not to jump into conclusions right away, I do agree with YN. The architectural style, the motifs…they do look similar to Istaroth-attributed ruins yet not quite. The flower motifs on the wall could easily be mistaken as triquetras. If we reexamine previous papers and note our recent findings, a trove of new discoveries is possible.”

Nodding in agreement, you listened to what Kaveh had to say, until you were distracted by how his lips moved. Soft, pink and plump…would it feel as delectable as it appeared to be, you wondered. Wait. This is not what you should be thinking in this situation YN!

“We should be careful here,” Al-haitham interrupted your thoughts. “Refuting previously recognized research is already an endeavor in and of itself. While it is disappointing that these ruins are not related to the ruins of Dahri, we can get enough data here to write an additional paper, alongside our main research subject. With that said, figuring out who this place is for should be the first and foremost priority, for the paper and for our safety as well.”

“I’ve seen you look through the writings on the wall earlier. Did it leave any clues?” you asked, gazing up at him. For some reason you felt hot and uncomfortable all of the sudden. Perhaps it was just the jungle humidity finally getting to you.

“Ah yes. It was also the reason why I had to agree with your assessment. The writings sing of praises for the goddess of flowers, as well as of hopes and wishes for ‘new seed’ to sprout and ‘new buds’ to bloom. It was also in a language which emerged at the same time as scripts from King Deshret’s empire and from ancient Sumeru. If these were ruins attributed to the god of time, Khaenri'ahn script should have been used and there should be no mention of the goddess of flowers.”

“How interesting,” you exclaimed, trying to rid of unnecessary thoughts forming in your head. “What you both have noted all points to the goddess of flowers. I assumed the same case as well. Yet there are no records of buildings dedicated to the goddess, so what makes this one different? What does the writings on the wall allude to? What is this place for? Why are we trapped here?”

“Alright!” Kaveh exclaimed, making you yelp when he suddenly placed his hands on your shoulders. They were heavy and big. “Let’s take a break for a while. I, for one, would like to rest on a comfortable place.”

The ‘comfortable place’ Kaveh was referring to was of course, another invention of his. Both you and Al-haitham watched the blond unfurl his portable chaise lounge with jaded eyes, all too familiar with Kaveh’s tactic of showing off. If he wasn’t a master craftsman and architect, you would’ve deemed him a simple man.

“Of course, the both of you are free to take a seat. Don’t be shy now,” he smirked, and at that point you understood why Al-haitham was ceaselessly cruel to him.

“Al-haitham if you’re not going to punch him sooner or later, I will do it.”

The Haravatat scholar simply shrugged at you; indicating that you should get used to it. “If I were you, just humor him to keep the peace and quiet. The archons know we need some silence to think in this situation.”

“Fine,” you retorted back and marched towards Kaveh. In a huff, you ungracefully plopped yourself on the chaise, surprising even Kaveh himself.

“You’re…” sitting so close to me, was what he wanted to say yet it was suddenly so difficult to get the words out of his throat.

“What is it?” you asked, wondering why Kaveh covered half of his face with his hand all of a sudden.

“No, I just…” he couldn’t say it. There was no way he could tell you that you smelled so sweet and delectable, enough to remind him of baklavas drizzled with honey. Drizzled with honey…he could lick it off of you—

“What’s gotten into you, Kaveh? You wouldn’t be thinking of anything inappropriate, would you?” you asked in the midst of a laughing fit. You just couldn’t help but giggle at the way his face morphed into an expression of horror.

“O-of course not! I…” he stammered but eventually composed himself. “Don’t you think it’s a bit warm in this room?”

“Well, there are no windows. It could also be the combined body heat of us three,” you shrugged. “I’m more concerned if we’re gonna run out of air before we can get out of here.”

“Oh, about that. There is a draft coming from the gaps on the walls, so there’s no chance of suffocation.”

“Well, at least we have that. But I do agree, it’s been warm for a while now, it’s making my skin stick to my clothes. I should at least remove one layer.”

“What…?”

Kaveh stared at you in panic, wide-eyed and flushed. He was already having inappropriate thoughts of you; your bare skin would do massive damage to his self-control.

“Wait…!” he reached out to you, hand on your arm. You gazed at him curiously, mulling over at the weird mood the both of you were in. If you were a little more honest, you could feel a haze creeping around you and Kaveh. You were just too scared to acknowledge it.

“Oh, come on! I’m just removing a jacket, no big deal!” You shrugged him off, finally getting rid of the stuffy outerwear required of students while on field, and went back to your place beside the blond man.

Kaveh had to train his eyes somewhere else to avoid looking at your shoulders and neck. Yet even if his eyes found purchase on a nearby rock, his imagination was betraying him with images of you flushed and ready underneath him, calling out his name in sweet and illicit whispers. There is no way he wouldn’t get hard right now. Get a hold of yourself, Kaveh!

Unbeknownst to the blond beside you, you weren’t in the best of shape either. It took all your mental prowess not to get overwhelmed by lewd thoughts—thoughts which involved the blond and the ash-haired scholar. All the intellectual talk from earlier had you weak and bothered, weirdly turned on from how Al-haitham discussed his thoughts while Kaveh shared his. For some reason, the desire to be pressed between both men was clawing at you. You wanted to feel their bodies against yours, touching and caressing all your sensitive spots until the three of you were one incoherent mess.

“What are you two even doing?”

The sound of Al-haitham’s stern voice brought you back down to Teyvat. You were thankful he was still sane, otherwise you might’ve not been able to come back. Kaveh, on the other hand, was still stubbornly looking at the distant wall.

“YN, scoot over,” Al-haitham ordered. He didn’t wait for you to move however, instead, you were forced to make room for him on the now crowded chaise, making you bump against Kaveh, who was definitely not pleased.

“You could at least wait, you know?” you remarked irately. “It’s already so hot and humid as it is…”

Removing his beret, Al-haitham kept his gaze on the wall in front of him much like Kaveh. “It’s not my fault this chaise lounge could barely fit three people.”

“Do you have a problem with it Al-haitham?” Kaveh interrupted, a lilt of frustration present in his voice which wasn’t there before. “You should be thankful you’re not sitting on the stone floor.”

In your position, the two of them looked rather silly bickering at the walls they were facing, as they avoided getting a glimpse of you and of each other. It wasn’t hard to guess that Al-haitham was feeling the same way both you and Kaveh did, and he was trying his best not to succumb to it.

“Did this room smelled particularly sweet when we went in?” you asked, interrupting the both of them.

“Hm? Oh no, I don’t think so. It was just like any other ruins we previously visited,” Kaveh replied, instinctively looking at you. That proved to be quite a mistake however, as his eyes began to ogle at your bare shoulders, neck and arms. The temptation to touch you was all too real and difficult to resist. Any time now, the tightly-wound thread holding his self-control would eventually snap.

“I’ve noticed it as well…the room does smell faintly of sweet flowers and padisarahs.” Al-haitham added as he glanced down at you, imagining all the things your mouth can do for him. Like slow-moving poison, illicit thoughts were invading his mind, pillaging all that is logical and reasonable until all he could think about is you. You being violated by him and Kaveh; you crying out their names as they fill both your holes; you laying on the chaise stuffed to the brim with their seed.

You watched Al-haitham as his mind wandered. You could tell he was losing his own battles, overcome by intrusive thoughts. If Al-haitham himself had succumbed to these thoughts, then forget about finding a way out. Your minds were too preoccupied to do any analysis at that point. The question now became clear to you—for how long are you three able to maintain self-control? If that wasn’t possible, what will happen to the three of you?

“A conclusion seemed to have crossed your mind, YN.”

It was Al-haitham, who had met your eyes directly. Peridot orbs on yours, you noticed the ferocity of his gaze, as if a fire was smoldering deep within him which he could barely contain. He was at his limit, and you were nearing yours too. You could only withstand so much mental battles, especially not against old leyline energy.

“This was a miscalculation in our part. Who would have thought we’d encounter something like this deep in the forest?” you replied, voice becoming low, body becoming pliant. “The flower motifs, the inscription on the wall, all the scattered decorations. It makes sense for this place to have that kind of purpose.”

“So what now?” Kaveh asked, leaning against the back rest of the chaise. “I don’t think I have the energy to resist whatever is happening.”

“Let’s just see where it goes,” you shrugged, allowing Al-haitham’s hands to cup your cheeks and Kaveh’s arms to wrap around your waist. “We are already too far gone.”

The next few moments were difficult for you to follow. After allowing your carnal urges to took hold of your actions, all you could remember was how everything felt so good.

The two men slowly ravished your body. You remember Al-haitham pressing his lips against yours, nibbling your lower lip until you allowed him to explore your mouth and play with your tongue. Kaveh, on the other hand, had monopoly over your body, lazily embracing your waist with one arm as he fondled your chest with his hand. He liked to bury his nose on the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and leaving his marks all over your skin. Suffice to say, their ministrations left you bare and naked.

There were no words exchanged at that moment, just pure and unbridled lust.

You delighted at the sensation of having both men caressing you, making you feel good. In the haste of it all, the blond had you sitting on his lap, his hands cupping your breasts and rubbing your nipples, while Al-haitham’s lips travelled down from collarbones to your stomach; leaving nips and splotches of color in his wake. Your hands could only do so much; wrapped around Al-haitham’s shoulders as you accepted it all.

Kaveh couldn’t believe he finally had a taste of you—his deepest desires finally coming into fruition after years of longing. Although he had to share with Al-haitham, there was no other opportunity like this. He could finally touch you, caress you, tease you as he pleased. There were no eyes to stop him, no boorish ego to tell him he was being unprofessional for liking you as your senior. Maybe this was what he needed after all.

“…Kaveh…” you moaned, looking up to him for a kiss which he easily obliged. He went immediately for a French kiss, sliding his tongue against yours in a soft and needy kiss. Kaveh groaned into your lips as you pressed your butt against the tent in his pants, reminding him to remove his clothes as soon as possible.

Al-haitham watched the exchange with half-lidded eyes and lips ajar. It was turning him on in all the right ways. As a man of rationality, he had never thought he’d enjoy a voyeuristic view of you making out with another man, much less Kaveh. But the sight only made his dick harder, prompting him to bite hard on your inner thigh.

“—!!”

“Come on now, YN. Don’t tell me you forgot about me,” he growled as he lapped on the bite mark he had just left on your skin. “Let’s hear you moan.”

With those words, the man completely ravished your thighs—leaving nips and bites but altogether avoiding the place where you needed him the most. You were trembling, keening in pleasure, mind numbed by the sensations both men had put you through. With hands tightly digging into Al-haitham’s hair, you collapsed against Kaveh’s chest as you begged the other for more.

Annoyed at the attention you gave to Al-haitham, Kaveh had his hand under your chin and turned your head to face him. Meeting his scarlet eyes, you melted under his gaze—once again joining lips in one sloppy kiss. He easily drowned out your moans with his tongue, delving deeper into your mouth until all you could feel were his soft plump lips.

Aware of how quiet you had been, Al-haitham pushed your legs up and dove right at your center; sucking your sensitive nub without any warning. Your body shook immediately, pulling away from Kaveh’s lips as you reveled at the way Al-haitham was lapping your juices which had been spilling out since earlier.

“…Al-haitham…! Wait—!”

All your pleading went to deaf ears as he continued eating you out, even to the point of inserting his tongue into your hole. It didn’t help when Kaveh suddenly pinched your nipples, flicking them until they were raw and sensitive. He was back on marking your shoulders and neck; his bites now more intense and feral. You could only grasp on thin air as both men drove you to your climax. Tears welled up on the sides of your eyes as the pleasure became so unbearable, with no choice but to take it all in.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck….! I’m…!”

As Al-haitham sucked hard on your clit; as Kaveh bit hard on your shoulder, you instantly fell to your climax—body shaking and trembling as the pain and pleasure mixed into something indescribably intense and rendering your mind completely blank. You screamed at the overwhelming stimulation, squirting juices into Al-haitham’s mouth which he gladly licked.

The two men gently laid you down on the chaise as they stood in front of you, breathless and horny with cocks painfully hard. Silently, they undressed as you watched—your eyes tracing the contours of their muscles and biceps, their beautiful skin riddled with beads of sweat and bodily fluids. Desire bubbles up from the pits of your stomach once again.

Finally, you saw a glimpse of their erect members, both glistening with pre-cum. Head overridden with lust, you almost salivate at the sight—Kaveh’s was pretty, pink and rather long and slightly girthy, while Al-haitham was thick and veiny; almost as muscular as his toned body. Both men smirked at how you were ogling at them.

“Seems like you want more, YN,” Kaveh remarked as he sat at the end of the chaise, spreading your legs apart. “Surely, we can give you more. Isn’t that right, Al-haitham?”

Normally, this would prompt more bickering from the two, yet they have different priorities right now, and they can set aside their differences for later.

Al-haitham scoffed, hands giving his cock a few pumps before placing it near your lips.

“How about we start with a blowjob? I’m sure you know how to do it, don’t you YN?” There was a mocking lilt to his tone that normally irritated you, yet at that situation, it turned you on for some fucking reason.

At first, you gave the head tentative licks, lapping at the beads of pre-cum spilling from the tip. You then began swirling your tongue around the head and sucking it. Eventually, you licked the underside of his cock, thoroughly covering his member with saliva and pre-cum which earned a deep growl from the man. Locking gazes with Al-haitham, you finally took him in, mouth stretching at his girth. If you weren’t drowning in lust, you would’ve complained at the pain, but at that point, all you could think about was how you were sucking his large cock while Kaveh was rubbing his on your drenched slit.

And speaking of Kaveh, he was busy pleasuring himself—pressing your thighs together around his dick which was brushing against your sensitive clit. If you hadn’t had Al-haitham’s cock in your mouth, you would’ve moaned every time Kaveh would rub on your sensitive bud; yet you could only roll your eyes to the back of your head; seeing stars on the process. It was a delightful distraction, and both men seemed to have made it somewhat of a contest of who could maintain your attention.

All of the sudden, Al-haitham shoved his dick into your throat, making you gag. Holding your head, he was effectively fucking your mouth, as you took it all in. It was painful, but fortunately Kaveh was there to distract you, pressing his thumb on your clit as he continued sliding his cock on your wet cunt. You could no longer tell which was which, allowing your body to feel everything.

“Fuck, YN….I’m going to come in your mouth…” Al-haitham muttered through gritted teeth.

“Wouldn’t you like that, YN?” Kaveh cooed, face flushed as he continued to fuck your thighs. “We’re gonna cover you with our cum…”

With a few strokes, Al-haitham stilled in your mouth and pumped his cum into your throat, while Kaveh spilled his seed on your stomach, almost reaching your breasts. Not able to swallow of Al-haitham’s essence, you allowed the mess to drip from your lips and down to your body. The image of you covered with their seed was enough to keep both men hard even outside the influence of the room. Even after coming once, it wasn’t enough. They had to have you.

Lifting your chin up, Kaveh captured your lips for the nth time, tasting Al-haitham on your tongue. The thought seemed to drive him crazy, as he probed deeper into your mouth, groaning, sucking your tongue and biting your lips. Lifting you up, Kaveh met eye to eye with Al-haitham, both seemingly agreeing on something.

Smirking as he devoured your lips, Kaveh had you on his lap again, his cock now lined up on your cunt. Without saying anything, the blond lowered you to his dick, grunting at the novel sensation of your walls wrapped around him. His lips kept any of your moans from escaping, as he allowed you to feel the shape of his cock in your pussy.

All you could think of at that moment was how good Kaveh filled you up. He was prodding you at the right places, his size making you stop to adjust to him before he can plow into your cunt. The way he was kissing you didn’t help either. The constant stimulation had made your body so sensitive that even a brush of Al-haitham’s hand on your neck or Kaveh’s low growls was enough to make your body spasm.

“…Kaveh…more…”

You begged for him to move, but the blond could only smirk at you as he laid the both of you flat on the chaise with you above him.

“Oh no, we’re not done here, YN. Al-haitham has to prepare you.”

With those words, you suddenly felt cold wet fingers prodding your other hole, prompting you to turn around. You were greeted by a grinning Al-haitham who pressed a few kisses on your back.

“We don’t have any lube right now, but I’ll make sure you’re ready for the both of us.”

As Al-haitham kneeled down, you could feel his tongue rimming your hole, licking and prodding until you were crying out at the strange sensations.

“Wait…no…! That’s…!”

“Relax, YN,” Kaveh assured you as he nipped on your ear. “It’ll feel good later on. Just let Al-haitham pleasure you.”

You could no longer tell how long Al-haitham took to make you feel good, but you could tell that your rigid body was gradually becoming pliant to his touch. Perhaps you already came several times, you weren’t sure as the pleasure seemed to have overlapped each other with no end in sight. By the time you noticed, he already had four digits pumping in and out of you as he lapped on your juices, while you moaned against Kaveh’s shoulders.

“Look how well you can take my fingers, YN,” Al-haitham whispered to your ear as he continued to pound his fingers into your ass. “You think you can take my cock now?”

“A-Al-haitham…please…I—!”

As the ash-haired man flicked a particular spot inside, you could only cling to Kaveh for support, yet the blond himself was also struggling, trying his best not to come even after your walls keep tightening around him.

“Al-haitham…” Kaveh grunted, beads of sweat falling from his temples. “Hurry up…I don’t think I can last much longer…”

Al-haitham clicked his tongue as he shoved his fingers deep into you, making both you and Kaveh groan. “So impatient…perhaps you both need a lesson or two.”

“Well, how about we switch places instead?” the older man asked, his irritation evident.

Yet the other man only smirked, “Maybe later then.”

Finally pulling out his fingers, Al-haitham coated his member with your essence, rubbing it against your hole until he lined it up. Noticing what he was about to do, Kaveh pulled your now swollen lips once more for a kiss, effectively distracting you.

Gradually, Al-haitham pushed his fat cock into your ass, stretching you out in proportions you had never considered before. Having both Al-haitham and Kaveh inside of you had your eyes rolling to the bank of your head, the intensity enough to make you faint. But you were intoxicated with whatever energy was in the room, so instead of actually fainting, you were flooded with pain that was so good that it had your body shaking uncontrollably.

“Breathe slowly, love. Take it easy,” Kaveh whispered sweetly to you, noticing your heavy breaths. He made carefully placed kisses on your jaw and down to the crook of your neck to soothe you. He knew Al-haitham would definitely abuse your hole, and he had to at least make sure that you’d come out sane after this. His ministrations seemed to have worked though, as you collapsed into his embrace, whimpering while taking in both cocks in you.

It didn’t take a while for both men to begin moving. The contrast of Al-haitham’s sharp and harsh thrusts to Kaveh’s slow but long-drawn pace left you an incoherent mess, no longer able to perceive everything that was happening to you. You felt as if you were one big bundle of nerves, drooling and screaming every time their cocks pushed against a particularly sweet spot in you.

Yet you were not the only one on the brink of losing their sanity. Both Al-haitham and Kaveh were acting on complete impulse and desire—with their hands on your waist, plunging into you as deep as they could, relentlessly chasing after their high. They wanted to fuck you over and over again and spill into you, marking you as theirs inside and out. Then rinse and repeat.

“Hey, can you feel it?” Al-haitham asked Kaveh in a breathy voice, grinning as he continued to pound into you.

“Feel what?”

“My dick—“

In one huff, Al-haitham shoved deep and hard into you, which made your walls contract around Kaveh’s.

“Oh fuck…!” The other groaned out, gripping your waist tight as he threw his head up. That was incredible, if he was being honest.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” the younger man smirked as he bent over your back and took a handful of your hair. “YN seemed to have liked it as well.”

“Shut up,” the other simply glared even though his face was completely flushed.

“You should learn from YN, Kaveh. At least, they’re being honest.”

Al-haitham only chuckled as he continued to drive into you, completely mesmerized at how you were clamping around him, how your hips would bounce every time he would thrust sharply, how you were moaning his name on Kaveh’s lips. In normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have imagined himself desiring you so intensely like this. Unlike Kaveh who obviously had a crush on you, you were more like a like-minded individual to Al-haitham; someone who he could match wavelengths with. He could spend the whole day everyday with you without worrying about anything, and he would feel rather lonely if you weren’t there. Was it different from what Kaveh was feeling about you? He thought it was, but now he wasn’t sure anymore.

Al-haitham felt you tighten around him once more, probably prompted by Kaveh playing with your chest. He could feel himself slowly climbing into his climax, his dick twitching inside of you.

“I can’t…no more…I’m…” you managed to croak out, voice hoarse and dry from all the screaming.

“It’s okay...” Kaveh cooed as he pressed a kiss on your forehead, “we’re cutting it close too…”

“Cum with us, YN,” Al-haitham encouraged.

This was the moment you waited for, feeling both their dicks plunging in and out of you. You reveled at how full you felt, at how you were drowning in so much pleasure that your mind just turned off on its own. This moment where you were all in the brink of your climax was something you chased after—it was the height of all anticipation, of all the build-up. Soon, it will spill over into waves of ecstasy; devouring the three of you whole.

With their erratic paces and their ragged breaths, both men ravished both your holes as they try to reach their peak. You yourself was feeling the brunt of their thrusts, with knuckles white from gripping tightly on Kaveh’s shoulders and eyes rolling to the back of your head. A single hard thrust from both men had you collapsing on your orgasm, walls tightening as your body shook intensely. Following after you, Kaveh painted your walls white, spilling his seed deep into you with a loud growl. Al-haitham finished last, pumping his cum into your ass until it spilt over your hole.

Losing strength, Al-haitham slumped beside you and Kaveh as he tried to catch his breath. You could’ve passed out at the moment, if only the both of them weren’t still hard and ready to go. You yourself weren’t as satisfied as you ought to be, now beginning to miss their deep and sharp thrusts.

“Seems like we’ll have to satisfy this place before it would let us stop,” Al-haitham remarked, pulling out from you with his cum spilling out.

Helping you sit up, Kaveh also pulled out from you, groaning in the process. He wouldn’t want to admit it but he was as eager as you started; evident from how hard he still was despite coming twice.

“You can still take more, can’t you YN?”

“We’ll help you, so don’t worry about anything.”

Climbing back on the chaise, Kaveh pulled you to his lap while Al-haitham captured your lips with a grunt escaping his mouth. That all led you to Kaveh pounding your ass this time while Al-haitham shoved his cock into your pussy—your juices mixing and staining your skin. Imprisoned in the room, the three of you had no perception of time, thus it felt like you were fucking for eternity with no chance of calming down.

The three of you tried every position possible in order to satiate the brewing desire ever-present in the pits of your stomachs. One time you were riding Kaveh while you had Al-haitham on your mouth. Another time you were held by Al-haitham, wrapping your legs around his waist as he fucked your sore cunt raw, while Kaveh was pressed behind you, cock plunging deep in your ass. Both your two holes were full of their cum, spilling out on your thighs and legs.

At that point, the three of you were unbothered where this was going. If this was where you meet your end, you could just imagine Al-haitham’s look of disappointment and disgust. That was hilarious in and of itself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. You just wanted to have them both by your side, filling you with their seed over and over again.

By the time you came to notice, you had already awoken yourself from sleep. Both men were lying close, bodies splayed over you as if you three had passed out from fucking too much.

But there, on the periphery of your vision, you saw a door, which wasn’t there before. You rubbed your eyes to check if you weren’t imagining things, but fortunately enough, you weren’t. It was there.

“Kaveh! Al-haitham! Wake up!” you exclaimed, pinching their noses to wake them up.

“Wha…? What happened…?” Kaveh asked, groaning at how heavy both you and Al-haitham were.

“Could you tone it down please?” the younger man scolded, still planning to go back to resting.

But as you were about to move, all the activity you did came crashing on you.

“Oww my fucking back!”

EPILOGUE

“And so, that is the conclusion of our research on Ruin No. 255b. While our paper is far from conclusive, we would like to take another look at it for more study.”

Al-haitham ended your presentation with a resounding applause from the panel of sages. They were more or less satisfied, saying how the three of you always produced great research which definitely warranted high honors upon graduation.

“But still, I’m curious,” the sage from the Amurta Darshan began. “This section here…on how leyline energy affects an individual’s libido. It’s so incredibly detailed that I have to ask how you were able to get this data.”

You smiled nervously, as you exchanged looks with the two men. “Well, we just had a few volunteers…”

#genshin impact #alhaitham #kaveh #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #alhaitham smut #kaveh smut

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immacaria · 1 year

Text

Fluffbruary: February 2 - Memory

Tags: Retired!Dream AU; Established Relationship; Living Together; Fluff; Suicide TW; Orpheus gets a body and a will to live; Daniel Hall is Dream of the Endless; I have shamelessly stole one of CJ's ideas and Dream is now a baker; He throws flour at Matthew's face when he is being insufferable; Hob's memories; Hob's POV

Hob is laying down, eyes staring at the ceiling and he thinks. He thinks about time where all he has now would be just a hopeful wish, a dream to make the reality less painful. A home, enough food, a comfortable bed, somewhere warm to curl up at night and the person he loved between his arms.

Dream - No, Morpheus - sleeps soundly next to him, curled up and wearing one of Hob's sweaters. His hands are closed next to his face, not unlike a cat, and Hob has to fight the urge of squeezing his face and waking him up.

The last time he did that Morpheus woke up so pissed and offended, Hob only had nightmares for a week. Not that he minded, he got friends with most of the nightmares. Doesn't mean his students weren't worried with the growing dark circles under his eyes.

Anyway, he thinks, shaking his head, and smiles. They are together now, they have time.

When Morpheus appeared at his home, a head without a body on his arm, Matthew sneezing on his shoulder and the three of them soaking wet, Hob's first instinct was to close the door at their faces. He didn't, but the instinct was there. Instead, he let them in and brought towels and tea to them.

Turned out that the head was Dream's son - Or rather the head of his son - Orpheus and they were there in the last try, a last bet to see if Orpheus could find a will to live again. Hob didn't know how to help with that. He knew the myth, of course, he knew what happened and why the boy didn't want to live anymore.

By Mary's tits, he understood why he didn't want to live anymore.

After Eleanor and Robyn, during those horrible, horrible eighty years, Hob had thought of giving up more than once. A simple ask was all that it took for it all to end. A simple plea and he would meet his beloved and their children again.

But he thought of his Stranger, his beautiful and immortal Stranger, all alone in the world again, without anyone to share a drink and understand what he went through. He thought back to their shared nights, the smiles he slowly began to conquer and the amused looks. He thought back to their last meeting and how he had to stay alive and do better.

The boy in front of him had nothing to hold on too. His love was dead, his life had ended and he was now nothing but a head sitting in the living room of a stranger with a towel around his head and drinking tea by a straw. There was nothing he could hold on to, not in that situation.

"You are the son of Dream, right? You can live in the Dreaming, can't you?" Hob said, his heart breaking at the thought of his friend losing a son like he had.

"I think so, yes." Orpheus said, looking to the side to see his father nodding slowly.

"Then go live there. That place has so many beautiful things to see, so many exciting things to be done. You could wish for a body there, walk around without having anyone carrying you around. You could sing and entertain little dreamers and you could live again," he had been kneeling in front of him at that point, eyes gone frantic as words tumbled out of his mouth. "There's so much to live for, Orpheus. So many songs to hear, so many tales to be told, so many landscapes to see. On every corner, every second, every breath you take, there's a reason to be alive still."

"Your loved one is dead and, believe me, I understand the pain. I too have lost someone I deeply cared about more than once in my whole life. I have buried too many lovers and I had to bury my only son once. I know the grief you are feeling deep inside your bones. I know the feeling of wanting to be dead and not being able to," he was crying now, tears rolling down his face as Eleanor's laugh filled his mind and Robyn's smile shone along it. "It would be so easy, wouldn't it? To ask for death? For this all to end? It would be too easy, but would it be fair with your love? Would she agree with it?"

"No, she wouldn't," Orpheus had said, looking down while Hob stared at him.

"I won't let you choke on that lasso around your neck and nor will your father. We will find things to fill your time, we will find something for you to hold on to. There's so much out there, young Orpheus, there's so much to live for. You can't give up just now, even if you want to. Can you promise that? Can you promise us you will try? Just this one more time?"

"What's your name?" Orpheus said, eyes shining with unshed tears and Hob had smiled, sniffing as he said:

"Hob. You can call me Hob."

"Then, I promise, Hope, I will try just this one more time. I will try to see the beauty of life again," he whispered and Hob nodded, getting up.

"That's all I can ask of you."

And he did try. There were bad days in the beginning where nor him nor Dream seemed to be good, seemed to have enough patience or courage to do what was sometimes necessary, but they tried anyway and now, every time Hob visits the Dreaming, Orpheus is there waiting, with a body to his own and playing with Matthew and others citizens of the Dreaming.

Both him and Morpheus are healing, slowly, but surely and that is all Hob could ask of them. Sniffing a little, he turns around, looking at Morpheus sleeping next to him, too much like a cat, and smiles. Years have passed since that day and Morpheus is no longer an Endless, just a simple immortal being, even if some of his powers stayed with him after he stepped away from his position.

He now works at the New Inn, baking for it and telling stories every Wednesday for anyone that would like to hear - More than one adult started crying during those and so has Hob. There is also a book into the making that he does not let him see and little sculptures now fill every inch of their home. Because that is what it is now, their home.

Sometimes, Orpheus and Daniel come to visit, just to see how they have been going and drink tea. Sometimes Matthew comes along and he laughs at how much of an old couple they look like. More than once he has received a handful of flour at his face for that.

But every day Hob sees himself amazed with the fact that this is his life now. That he gets to have this every day of his life and no one will take this away from him. He has two sons now, because no matter what Orpheus and Daniel say they are his children, and he is married to his Stranger, the same one that ran away when Hob as much as dared to call him a friend.

Now he calls him 'beloved', 'duck', 'dove', 'love', 'honey' or anything else that he wants to because they are married and Morpheus is not going to leave him anytime soon again.

So he takes a deep breath and turns around, pulling Morpheus against him. He doesn't need to get up in a few hours and his bed is warm and comfortable. The outside world can wait a few more hours while he sleeps next to his husband.

#my writing #my fanfic #fluffbruary #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream x hob #orpheus #daniel hall #matthew the raven #retired!dream au #the sandman #i blame the dreamling nation for this #fanfic #macca writes

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a-boca-do-inferno · 3 months

Text

Prague getaway (jack ryan x female oc)

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

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

words: 10.7k (:O)

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

CENTRAL EUROPE

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

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

Always, anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jack?”, she calls, getting no reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Got it.”

♡♡♡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Randy sighs. “I wanna talk to Greer.”

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

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

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

“I told you everything.”

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

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

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

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

Nodding, he steps away and closes the door.

♡♡♡

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

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

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

Only grumpier and square.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mike smiles at Ryan. “I like her.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know, it’s none of my business…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

♡♡♡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jack, focus.”

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

“Jack?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Jack, what the fuck are you doing?!”

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

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

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

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

“How in the world…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jack, are you okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Those were her orders…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

♡♡♡

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

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

Quieter, mayhaps.

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

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

Who was she kidding?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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commander-krios · 1 year

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My submission for SWTOR Secret Santa Exchange for @jaxifye. I hope you enjoy this little fic I wrote for you. Happy Holidays!

Title: No Matter What Comes

Summary:

Gloria was like a goddess in her power, in her fury: a true Imperial who was now Sith. The might of the Force was beautiful on her. But with that power, with that fury, came the new dangers of her life. The infighting, the politics, the Jedi.

If he lost her, Malavai was certain he would lose himself.

Words: 2262

Rating: T

Relationship: Malavai Quinn/Female Sith Warrior

Additional Tags: Blood, Injury, Assassination Attempts, Minor Violence, Corellia

~~~~

It was the pivotal battle for control of Corellia, that’s how Darth Vowrawn explained the situation. Malavai Quinn understood the role that the planet held in galactic politics, it was a Core planet after all. But they weren’t there for the war. While Corellia was important to the Empire and the Emperor’s Wrath did what she could to make sure they had a distinct advantage, something more personal occupied the majority of her time.

Darth Baras.

The Sith Lord was a menace in the best of circumstances, but his current grab for power was a threat to the Empire. That was not something that Gloria was willing to let go, no matter what her duties as the Wrath were. Baras needed to be dealt with and then she could return to the war… if there was a war to return to.

The Wrath (it was still strange to see her in a position such as that) had left him in charge of keeping Darth Vowrawn safe from Baras’ assassins, and he took his assignment seriously. No one would harm the Dark Councillor while he still breathed. But his thoughts were a distraction while he waited. He desperately hoped that Gloria was successful and returned to him in one piece.

It was difficult when it came to their relationship. Their history was long and painful, filled with more than a small amount of regret. Even now, he was trying to make up for the things he should’ve said… and those he shouldn’t have. But he was an Imperial first and foremost. No matter what he felt while Gloria was gone without him, a Sith needed to be protected and he would do it.

Or he would die. It was his duty and Gloria wouldn’t expect anything less.

“You look tense.” Pierce was standing beside him, the black ops soldier towering over him with his superior height.

Malavai ignored the comment for what it was, an attempt to get a rise from him. The lieutenant wouldn’t get the pleasure of seeing him undone. “We have our orders.”

“Sure. But you’ll have an aneurysm if you get any more stressed, Capt’n.”

He couldn’t tell if Pierce was mocking him, but he bit his tongue anyway. No reason to start an argument when they had other things to worry about. The Wrath enjoyed having Pierce on her team, eccentricities and all. He would bear the insufferable man as long as she wanted him around.

Darth Vowrawn was speaking with his apprentice, paying little attention to the people who were assigned to protect him. Malavai knew his place in the Imperial hierarchy as a non-force sensitive. He did his job and he did it well. His life might not be expendable to Gloria, but he was little more than a stranger to the Dark Councillor.

Which was why when Vowrawn called his name, he glanced up in surprise.

Vowrawn smiled, his expression conveying a kind and easy going Sith who’d lend you a sympathetic ear and a cup of excellent Kaasian tea. But the Sith didn’t become a Dark Councillor by accident, and in no uncertain terms would Malavai relax his guard when speaking with him.

“My Lord? How may I be of assistance?”

“Ever the professional, Captain. I see why our Lord Wrath relies on your skills.” Vowrawn’s smile didn’t falter when meeting his gaze. “I wonder, how far are you willing to go to save our Empire?”

Ah, there it was. The sharp mind that Vowrawn was well known for. He’d ascended to the Dark Council thanks to that intellect more so than any raw power. He moved pieces before they even realized they’d been manipulated. Malavai had served Sith like him before.

“I assure you my loyalty is absolute, my Lord.”

“Your loyalty is not in question, Captain. I only wonder how far you will go to make sure that Baras, and others like him, don’t destroy what we intend to build.” Vowrawn’s crimson gaze almost glowed as he waited for Malavai’s response.

He pondered the question briefly, realizing that giving an answer that a Sith didn’t approve of could not only end his career (and his life), but also reflect poorly on the woman he served with… the woman he loved. Malavai wasn’t worried about his own life as much as he worried about what would happen to Gloria after.

On top of everything else he was dealing with, Malavai felt uneasy, the shadows of the landing pad creating enemies out of the tiniest things. He wished not for the first time that Gloria had left the Talz with them. While he wasn’t keen on the creature, Broonmark’s stealth field generator would’ve been a great asset in protecting the Sith and finding this assassin.

Too late for second thoughts, he chided himself. The decision was made and now they had to follow through.

“My loyalty belongs to the Empire, Darth Vowrawn, and I will do anything I must to see that it is preserved and protected.”

Vowrawn appeared amused by his words, but he didn’t for the life of him know why. He’d served the Empire his entire life. It shouldn’t be a surprise that he felt so deeply about his role in it.

A shimmer appeared at the entrance of the landing area, near the protocol droid that took care of the landing and take off procedures. His gaze honed in on the area, but there was no other movement. It didn’t stop the hair on the back of his neck from standing at attention, however.

“Did you see that?” Pierce said, voice dropping to a whisper.

If Vowrawn heard Pierce, he didn’t appear to notice the interruption. “Preserved and protected? Perhaps that’s the problem with the Empire, Captain. Parts of it should be protected, of course, but there are some parts that could change.”

Pierce raised an eyebrow in Malavai’s direction, but didn’t speak again. Instead, he pulled his rifle from where it’d been resting at his back and began a patrol of the area. Malavai took the hint and rested his hand on one of his own blasters, ready to pull it if need be.

“Problem, Captain?” Vowrawn asked, raising an eyebrow-stalk at the sudden movement.

Behind the Sith, a stealth field generator dropped away, revealing the would be assassin: a Rodian with a pair of blasters on his hip and a vibroblade in his hands. Reacting instantly, Malavai pushed Vowrawn out of the blade’s path, situating himself between the assassin and the Sith, blaster in his hand.

The Rodian lifted the blade, aiming for his center mass. He managed to back away, the vibroblade hissing in the air in front of him. Malavai let off a round of blaster fire, but the assassin was quicker, dodging at the same time he lunged.

This time, Malavai couldn’t get out of the way fast enough.

Before the vibroblade could connect with his body, the Rodian collapsed to the ground, a hole burning red through his chest. In place of where the assassin had stood was the woman he’d been thinking of nonstop since she left earlier that morning. She held a lightsaber in one hand, the red of the blade tinting her skin crimson in its glow.

Except when he actually looked at her, he realized it wasn’t the lightsaber that made her skin appear red.

She was bleeding.

He reached a hand out to steady her when she stumbled. “My lord? What happened?”

Gloria’s golden eyes met his and he could see the pain that she tried to hide. “Nothing to worry about, Captain. I’ll be fine.”

Malavai knew better than to challenge her in front of Vowrawn. “May I look at it at least?”

He noticed the flash of irritation that crossed her face before she nodded, resigned to her fate. She knew him well enough to realize he wouldn’t let the issue drop until he was certain she was alright. He took the chance to lead her away from the others, affording them some privacy that they wouldn’t have otherwise.

The wound wasn’t bad, but the sight of Gloria covered in her own blood had sent terror through him like he’d never felt before. Malavai was the type of Imperial who didn’t let his emotions dictate his actions and he usually prided himself on being unflappable in the face of some of the greatest atrocities. But this was not something he was prepared to face.

And on top of all that, she was the Emperor’s Wrath, a weapon against his enemies.

If he lost her, Malavai was certain he would lose himself.

Gloria hissed as he pressed a kolto patch against the wound.

“I apologize. I must clean it before I can properly bandage it.”

He hated seeing her in pain, but he especially hated it when he was the cause of it. Physical, emotional, didn’t matter. He had too many regrets over that part of his life as well.

“I know, Malavai.” She said, turning to him as he set about his work. His neck burned at the feel of her eyes on him. With just her gaze, he was left feeling like he had all of those years ago when they first began a relationship. “Please, do what you can for it. I have to pay a visit to my old Master.”

Malavai held back a grimace, focusing on the injury beneath his practiced fingers. He didn’t want to think about when she had to face Baras, alone if she had her way. There were too many unknown variables when it came to the Sith, but he’d served Baras for years. The man was intelligent and prone to overpreparing. He had spies embedded in the highest parts of the Republic.

He was a formidable enemy.

She must’ve noticed because she glanced at Lieutenant Pierce briefly. He was busy keeping Vowrawn distracted so that Malavai could attend to her wound. Not that the Dark Councillor needed much help in the distraction department. He was always glad to hear himself speak.

When she faced him once more, her expression had softened considerably. “Quinn. You know I value your honesty. Don’t hold back if you have something to say.”

He couldn’t meet her gaze, his pale blue eyes dropping to where his hands hovered in the air above her wounds, skin stained with her blood. “Do you even know what it does to me?”

Malavai paused, a shaky breath passing his lips. He never had an issue with speaking his mind in the past, why now of all days?

Gloria waited for him to find his words, lost somewhere in his swirling thoughts.

“Any time you’re hurt, even if it’s superficial, I am worried that I’ll lose you.” Glancing up into eyes gold and copper, he felt a twinge in his chest, as if his heart twisted at the sight of her alive and close enough to touch. “Do you realize how deeply you’ve embedded yourself into my heart?”

She reached for him, covering his hands with her own. The wound was patched now, any pain she felt was an obvious issue now in the past. An expression of resigned sadness crossed her face. “I can’t promise you that nothing bad will happen to me, or to us, not with the war and Dark Council and this target painted on my back.” She hesitated, which wasn’t like her at all. Her confidence was one of the things he admired, always had, but to see her in this state bothered him.

“My lord-”

“But I will fight with every ounce of my soul to come back to you, Malavai. I will not let them take me from you.” Her fingers brushed the soft skin of his cheek before dropping back into her lap. “We don’t have much time, but once this is over, once Baras is dead and we can finally breathe-”

Gloria paused, letting the implications of her words dangle in the air.

Malavai smiled, but he resisted the urge to reach out for her. Vowrawn and the rest of their crew were nearby. “I’ll hold you to that… my love.”

She couldn’t fight the responding grin. It lit her face up, only making her beauty shine through in ways only he could. It helped the ache in his heart to know that no matter what happened, he was the reason for her happiness. “Not even death could keep me from you, Malavai Quinn.”

After everything they’d been through, he could with a degree of certainty believe her and know, without a doubt, he’d never let anything keep him from her either. He would scour the entire galaxy to make sure she returned to him safe. Time was running short for them, but he was relieved to know that she wouldn’t disappear after this battle with Baras.

She was his until the end.

“You have to leave.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. Vowrawn and Pierce were waiting for her at the ship. They would be heading for Dromund Kaas soon and Malavai had to prepare for what came after. No matter what came.

Gloria nodded, her smile disappearing as she became the Emperor’s Wrath. “When this is finished.”

“I’ll be here… waiting.”

And Malavai was a patient man.

#jaxifye #swtor secret santa #swtor secret santa 2022 #my writing #sith warrior #malavai quinn #darth vowrawn #lieutenant pierce #sith warrior x malavai quinn #glorifye #glorifye x quinn #swtor #star wars the old republic #star wars: the old republic #swtor fanfic #swtor fanfiction #2022swtorss

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the-down-upside-finch · 8 months

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Characters Judge Other Characters (Tag Game)

Thank you for the tag, @amaiguri!

I'm going to pit the main 5 characters in Pentad of Un and the 4 main characters in Stained Integrity against each other to keep things simpler, since those are both fantasy worlds.

...I'm realizing now that this is going to get SUPER long but hey I'm going for it anyways. (Also for the sake of not breaking my characters, we're going to ignore the fact that the ocean exists in PoU and doesn't in SI.)

So, without further ado...

Starting with the main 5 from Pentad of Un...

Jelro's opinion on... - Clover: He would freak out and then start asking her a billion questions about Drakonine anatomy and other stuff like that when he finds out that Clover is a dragon descendant. - LeRoy: He would relate to being a "halfling" and then immediately feel really bad upon finding out that being of mixed blood is considered a really bad thing in LeRoy's world. - Laurie: The resident animals are wary of him, so Jelro is wary of him. - Mirak: Would be fascinated by Mirak's obsession with frogs. _ _ _

Kestek's opinion on... - Clover: Absolutely in love with her collection of hats. - LeRoy: They would actually probably bond over a cooking session, despite the fact that Kestek would see him as inferior due to his mixed blood. - Laurie: "I didn't think there would be anyone that could be worse than Luss, but here you are." - Mirak: Would probably consider him childish. :\ But would act respectfully towards him simply because he's a prince. _ _ _

Adif's opinion on... - Clover: "How do you handle having a best friend that's literally three heads taller than you?" - LeRoy: "WHY ARE YOU SO TALL--" - Laurie: Feels like he knows too much. She's used to Luss knowing a lot of stuff but this is a whole new level of intelligence and she finds it unnerving. - Mirak: She would initially be scared because he can breathe fire, but would probably be one of the first of the PoU crew that would understand Mirak's meltdowns. _ _ _

Shayrow's opinion on... - Clover: He wouldn't say anything, but he would think her clothes are a bit overkill with how gaudy they are. - LeRoy: "WHY IS THIS MAN SO TALL????" But also is absolutely in love with the weapons that LeRoy crafts. - Laurie: Would fall for a challenge in sword fighting and get his butt kicked, and be torn between respecting this man and being really annoyed at him. - Mirak: They would probably be closely matched if they crossed swords. Would empathize with the loss of his mother and having a father that "Just wants the best for him." _ _ _

Luss's opinion on... - Clover: Would immediately pick up on her naivety and wonder how she's gotten this far without being able to read other's intentions. - LeRoy: "This guy is an idiot but he's full of so much love. Why do I suddenly feel the need to share all of my trauma with him--" - Laurie: Imagine that the two most insufferable and intelligent people you know just started a battle of wits. Luss would see Laurie as a challenge that he desperately wants to outsmart. - Mirak: Would be very wary of this man, especially since he can breathe fire (and Luss is scared of fire). _ _ _

Now for the main 4 from Stained Integrity!

Clover's opinion on... - Jelro: Would feel a sense of... pity(?) for his family situation, due to her belief in a "complete family unit." - Kestek: "Oh no, someone that actually likes these ridiculous hats that I have to wear--" But is also fascinated by the way she can use magic so freely. - Adif: Would see her as a sort of role-model on how to be strong. - Shayrow: Would be absolutely HORRIFIED by the tragedy that struck his family, and also be intrigued by his lack of shadow. - Luss: Would marvel at his love for books. _ _ _

LeRoy's opinion on... - Jelro: Would bond over their parents both being journers, and would likely have a lot of stories to exchange. - Kestek: Would end up walking on eggshells around her, not wanting to say something that makes her go, "Well, actually--" - Adif: Would likely get along with her and would even offer to make a weapon for her. - Shayrow: Would sit and listen to him explaining different apothecary things to try and learn something, but deep inside he can't stop thinking how easy it would be to snap Shayrow's twig-like build over his knee. (Please remember that LeRoy has one of those "He wrestles with bears" kind of builds.) - Luss: Gets weird vibes from him but can't figure out why. He respects his vast knowledge on weapons and whatnot, though. _ _ _

Laurie's opinion on... - Jelro: "His ability to make decisions on the fly and act on them is commendable. But his black and white view of the world makes him almost ruthless—and yet, no one seems to notice. His love for his friends is genuine and pure, but his lack of self-care implies he may not hold that same love for himself." - Kestek: "She's driven by a desire to prove her worth to others, which could make her easy to manipulate with the right words. Her childhood has burned it in her mind that specific kinds of beings are inferior. Maybe this is why she feels the need to show her own superiority." - Adif: "She is task-driven and willing to fight, but she doesn't have a sense of purpose. She doesn't live in her own head, which makes her weak to games of the mind. But once her motive is clear, there's no stopping her until she reaches the goal." - Shayrow: "Clearly afflicted with guilt over things he had no responsibility for. He blames himself for things he played no part in. That burden he carries might sink him into the ground one day if someone doesn't help him shrug the weight off of his shoulders." - Luss: "A worthy opponent in terms of intelligence. He doesn't seem to trust anyone and he uses humor to cope with whatever trauma he's wrestling with. He sleight of hand is clean but inconsistent, making it prone to mistakes. He appears to be aware of this and relies on distractions to accommodate this weakness." - (General note, Laurie would be internally going, "All of you are so young. Who did this to you. Why are you not in absolute shambles right now because of your absolutely insane lives. WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ALL OF YOU HAVE ALMOST DIED BEFORE????") _ _ _

Mirak's opinion on... - Jelro: Loves everyone but forgets to love himself. - Kestek: Desperate to prove herself and find love. - Adif: Searching for a purpose and independence. - Shayrow: Lonely and scared of failure. - Luss: Lonely and scared to trust.

OKAY THAT WAS A LOT HAHA Uhhhh gold star if you read all that? Thanks for being interested in my characters, if you read this!

Gently tagging (with no pressure) @my-cursed-prince, @da-na-hae, @harleyacoincidence, and anyone else that wants to give this a shot! You might want to refer to the original post for a better idea of how this game works since I didn't really explain it haha

#Zeta Rambles #About the OCs #Pentad of Un #Stained Integrity Series #Long Post #Tag Game #Writeblr

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hyperfixationtimego · 6 months

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idk if you're still answering asks but you're the top blog in the shinguuji tag. ship opinions? What are your favorites?

:0 AYO???? that’s wild dude fuck yeah

and euehuehuehuehueheu oh buddy. i’m literally the most annoying person in the world when it comes to ships, thank you for asking ❤️

Ships I Like:

• Shinouma (Kokichi x Korekiyo) - holds these guys up to you and swings them around like pathetic little ferrets. the idea of them together is so funny and sweet to me. like - the struggle for dominance between them would be SO real…… Kokichi constantly bugs him ‘cause he wants Kiyo’s attention…….Kiyo tells him stories, and Kokichi pretends not to be interested, but really he’s sitting there listening to every word like 👁️👁️…… Ugh okay just THINK of all the possibilities for smarmy little quips and back-and-forth dialogue between them!!!!! they’d be INSUFFERABLE AND I ADORE THEM IMMENSELY!!!!

• Momoguji (Kaito x Korekiyo) - 👉👈 what if I put my two favorite v3 characters into a ship and then never shut up about it forever and ever and ever??? no listen to me they’re so good. Kaito initially overlooks him because he’s more drawn to classmates like Kaede, Shuichi, & Maki, but once he gets to know him a little more…….GOD. Kiyo saying one (1) thing that makes the alarm bells in Kaito’s head go off and the astronaut is straight up just “WELP. TIME TO ADOPT ANOTHER EMO.” and then he does <3 Kaito wanting to save him……Kiyo not realizing he needs to be saved, but secretly wanting it anyway…….oh they make me absolutely INSANE. and also just - the idea of Kiyo wanting to take away Kaito’s pain, too. Kaito is so selfless and loves people with his whole heart, and Kiyo just wishes he could be half as kind as Kaito is………plus there’s the idea of kiyo already being accustomed to loving (or, well, “loving”) someone with terminal illness which can make for some VERY good angst potential and trauma re-triggering ehehehe

• Kiyoumota (Kokichi x Korekiyo x Kaito) - LISTEN TO MEEEE they’re great on their own but TOGETHER????? oh I am SO WEAK!!!!!! the love the love the love - the complication of it all, the everpresent conflict and comfort from both sides, a constant quarreling from a place of softness and adoration and vulnerability!!!!! it is a PERFECT BALANCE, I tell you!!! Korekiyo mediates arguments between Kokichi and Kaito so that they don’t accidentally go too far (insert auspistice joke here I guess. ….sorry), Kaito uplifts Kokichi’s & Kiyo’s spirits by making them both see how wanted they are and how much he loves them, how strong they both really are……and Kokichi is the grounding force, the one that keeps the bad thoughts from spiraling and going too far, the one who will distract, who doesn’t mind making his lovers upset with him so long as it means he can take away the pain and numb it for a little while. oh anon, when I tell you I ABSOLUTELY LOVE them!!!!!!!!!

• Korekuwata (Korekiyo x Leon) - ……I don’t have an excuse this is just me being insufferable sorry. I love these two because I am insane and they’re both my favorite little guys. I can see them sorta trauma bonding and just becoming such important people in the other one’s life because like……opposites attract kinda deal, y’know? like. Leon is so passionate, so fiery - but still sweet, still helpful; would want to make his presence known if there was something he could help resolve. And Kiyo is so thoughtful and can push his own emotions aside to rationalize the possible outcomes of a situation, can calm someone down if he cares for them enough…….listen I just think they’d enjoy each other’s company and everyone around them would just kinda be like “hey what the fuck”

• Korekiyo x Nagito - UM!!!!!! hi I’m insane. they read books together and love it when the other one rambles or infodumps to them <3 they’re both astounded that the other one can have such a negative self-image because all they can see is someone truly beautiful, someone brimming with hope, someone worthy of so much more love than they could ever ever give!!! they are kissing and making out sloppy style and conducting social experiments on their peers thank u for coming to my ted talk

• Korekiyo x Byakuya - these two are just. kissing with tongue I think. like. Korekiyo badgers him with anthropological questions and moral quandaries and Byakuya just. [grabs him by the collar] “stop being so pretty before I bring hell down upon you so help me GOD.” and Kiyo just thinks it’s funny and finds it flattering. like ough listen Kiyo would want to study him soooooo bad. and Byakuya would find him tolerable, because at least he’s well-read and understands the concept of personal space JSVSNDNDN and. just. they both repress themselves so much that I think at some point it just boils over and they end up sticking their tongues down each other’s throats.

• Fujiguji (Chihiro x Korekiyo) - genderweird couple my beloved ❤️

• Ryoma x Korekiyo - something something lonely people something something outcasts of society finding solace with one another (also. korekiyo has cat vibes. tell me I’m wrong I DARE you. Ryoma would get to know his stupid ass and be like “ohhhh I get it now. goddamn it. son of a bitch.” and has to resist the urge to pet him whenever he’s given any sort of height advantage or anything teehee)

• Kazukiyo (Kazuichi x Korekiyo) - I took part in one (1) danganronpa roleplay server and this relationship ended up budding…….i was not normal about it then and I am still not normal about it now <3

Ships I’m Neutral Towards:

• Shinsai (Korekiyo x Shuichi) - eh. just not my thing, I think. plus, I have other ships for both of them that I heavily prefer, which might be a factor in why it’s so ‘meh’ for me.

• Korekiibo (Korekiyo x Kiibo) - I find myself wanting to like this ship more than I actually do tbh?? like. I feel like there’s so much potential here. but tbh I have a bit of a difficult time connecting with Kiibo as a character anyway, so maybe that’s why it’s not a huge pull for me?

• Tanakiyo (Gundham x Korekiyo) - ok. this one’s growing on me I think. the little art that this ship has is absolutely BANGER. I think it’s just difficult for me to picture a scenario in which they’d actually like………interact with one another or develop feelings. then again……..kiyo wanting to study the strange and silly occult dude who speaks in riddles and tells everyone he’s from hell………👀

• Gontaguuji (Gonta x Korekiyo) - I used to be obsessed with these two actually <3 not super sure why I’m not as into it anymore? Guessing my tastes have just changed :p

Ships I Hate/Dislike:

• Kirukiyo (Kirumi x Korekiyo) - conflicts with my personal headcanons for the characters; just not my thing.

• Amaguji (Rantaro x Korekiyo) - hooooo boy I can already tell I’m gonna get a lot of flak for this one. it makes me ridiculously uncomfortable. The only two interactions that come to mind when I think of these two in-game is the one where Rantaro tells Kaede that Kiyo “isn’t that bad” once you get to know him a bit, which is fine, and then also the……….*shudders* UTDP interaction between them. y’know, the one where they talk about their sisters together 💀 I just find it reallllyyyyyy sus and I do not like the idea of rantaro’s relationship with his sisters being compared in any way, shape, or form to the literal incestuous rape and grooming that is Kiyo’s shitshow of a backstory.

• Shinnaga (Angie x Korekiyo) - another cold ass take I know, but. they literally do not even like each other as friends in-game. Kiyo’s smart enough to know what she’s up to, and Angie’s smart enough to be able to recognize that from a mile away - he wants to study her, but she knows it would be dangerous for her credibility, so she refuses to allow him to worship with her for the sake of research. She intentionally closes herself off from him and becomes guarded, wary - it’s not this cutesy, hanging-off-his-arm-and-annoying-him type relationship that fanon seems to have built up out of nowhere for them; they legitimately regard one another as a threat. Also, I’m just not a huge fan of killer/victim ships in the first place?? Like, yeah, I’ve got a few exceptions, but. these two are on the same level as Leosaya and Bandaid for me (which is to say, absolutely despised).

• Genocide Jill x Korekiyo - I mean. Do I really have to spell it out?? These are probably the two characters with the worst writing of the entire franchise, deliberately portraying marginalized groups as serial killers, and yet some people apparently????? ship them together??????? and make them a fucking serial killer tagteam power couple???????? literally fuck OFF I cannot trust ANYONE who can enjoy this ship with the canon characterizations

• Sister x Korekiyo - this isn’t even a ship it’s just incestuous grooming and abuse. like listen - it’s great to write fucked up content and all, but if you’re portraying them as being in a healthy, loving relationship and you don’t want to acknowledge the ugly reality of it then I truly do hate you with every fiber of my being and, once again, cannot trust you at all.

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imagines-ahs · 2 years

Text

Chapter Twenty: Honey.

Summary: Wilhemina Venable felt it was finally time to leave Kineros Robotics and get a job with people who weren’t such morons like Jeff and Mutt. What she didn’t expect, however, was for her new boss to be so damn insufferable. She didn’t expect to fall in love with her, either.

Tag List: @mayfair-fleur @mistysswampmud @paulsonsratched @msvenablx @notmeellaannyy @rwoolfe @golddustdykes (message me to be added if interested!)

“Yes.” With the help of her cane, Venable got up. After the conversation with Billie, using a cane didn’t feel so shameful, for once. They walked outside, and there the driver waited for them.

After getting into the car, Billie Dean reached for her phone. She had a few texts from Jenny as well as her manager, letting her know about the plans for next week. She’d have the weekend off, but they would start filming the Christmas special on Friday. We still have to plan the whole company gathering. A groan left her lips without her noticing it. Wilhemina frowned as she turned to look at Billie Dean, but didn’t say anything; Billie was staring at her phone, and whatever that groan was for was probably personal. A yawn escaped Venable’s lips, which she quickly covered with her palm.

“Sleepy?” Billie asked as she set her phone aside.

Venable nodded. “A little tired.”

“Me too… hopefully we can sleep at the plane.”

Wilhemina nodded. In her pocket, her phone vibrated; she reached for it, seeing it was only a silly notification about backups. Grabbing her phone, however, reminded Venable she hadn’t answered Emma. She clicked on her texts and read all the compliments Emma had sent her. This is overwhelming. But it wasn’t fair to ignore her. So, with her lower lip between her teeth, Wilhemina began to type. ‘Thank you… that’s very sweet.’ She didn’t know what else to say. What else could she say? There was nothing to add. After staring at the screen for a second, Venable began to type again. ‘We’re on our way to the airport. I should be home soon.’ After sending the text, she put her phone into her purse again. “Will you be at the office tomorrow?” She didn’t know why she was asking that question, but she definitely wanted to know the answer.

Indeed, the question was a little odd. Billie Dean nodded. “I should arrive at noon, too. Why?” Venable shook it off. Billie bit her lower lip. “Would you… like to meet for lunch?”

Wilhemina felt herself growing nervous. She already had plans with Emma, and although it wasn’t anything wrong, saying no to such an invitation from Billie Dean didn’t sit right with her. I can’t cancel with Emma, though. Emma had asked her about it first. In a twisted way, the situation was a little funny; when in her life did Venable think she’d have to choose between plans? Most of the time no one ever wanted her around. “I would… but I can’t. I already have plans for lunch.”

Billie Dean nodded. Her sight moved away from Wilhemina, and she embarrassedly licked her lips. Looking down at her lap, she went back at nibbling on her bottom lip. Billie wasn’t dumb, but she found herself wanting to check on her suspicions anyway. “Emma?” She asked softly. And when Venable nodded, she opened up a smile even though she absolutely did not feel happy. Brown eyes went back to Wilhemina’s face. “I hope you two have fun,” it was a genuine wish. Venable deserved it.

“Thank you.” Wilhemina smiled. It had been stupid to think Billie Dean could have negative thoughts about her sexuality. “Friday, though?”

“Okay.” Billie’s smile turned a bit more genuine. “Friday.”

After a second of silence, Venable asked: “McDonald’s?”

The question got a laugh out of Billie Dean’s lips. “There’s one around the block near the office.”

“Settled.” Venable couldn’t help the way her own smile grew. Billie Dean’s laugh was beautiful.

“Settled,” Billie Dean repeated.

The driver let them know they were arriving, and it took them less than an hour to check out and get through security. Soon, they were already settled into the plane. Billie Dean had insisted Wilhemina took the window seat again; she herself absolutely loved to watch the clouds, but the way Venable had looked at them on their previous flight was worth sitting near the hallway. The instructions began to roll out, and once the plane was ready to take off, Billie offered Venable a hand. “Hey,” she said softly.

Wilhemina had been focused on the window. She turned to look at Billie Dean, and then her sight fell down to her hand. With the corners of her lips turning up, she reached for it and laced their fingers. “Thank you.”

Billie squeezed the hand in hers. “Excited to see Purpura?” She wanted to get Venable’s mind out of the plane. The change in subject seemed to have worked, for Wilhemina’s eyes took that different sparkle in them.

“Very. It’s the first time we spend so much time apart.”

“Really?” Billie kept her tone light and free of judgement. Who was she to judge anything? “That’s very sweet… she must be missing you a lot.”

Wilhemina nodded. “I miss her, too.” I need to talk to her. Saying it out loud was a big no, for even in Venable’s own head she sounded insane. But talking to Purpura helped her organize her thoughts and, consequently, feelings. And the last day had given her a lot of those.

“I bet.” Billie pouted. She realized the plane had begun to move, so she sat up a little better and quickly thought about something else to say. “Don’t forget tomorrow you only have to be at the company by noon. Get yourself some rest.”

“I will.” Venable usually didn’t enjoy going by the easy way out, but she had to admit she was exhausted. “You should rest, too.” She realized the plane was moving, but tried to focus on Billie Dean. It was easy.

“I think I’ll be able to.” Billie had already let everyone know she’d take the morning off and, so far, there were no oppositions. The worst thing that could happen would be her agent calling her to let her know she had to film a last minute scene or go to a last minute fitting; she was praying it wouldn’t happen, though.

“That’s good.” Wilhemina covered her mouth with her free hand as she yawned. Her eyes were struggling to focus on the images in front of her. The plane began to make its way up, and she subconsciously tightened the grip on Billie’s hand.

Billie Dean noticed, but didn’t say anything. “Did the company you used to work at have annually gatherings?”

“In what way?” Weird change of subjects. But it worked, for Venable didn’t think of the plane.

“You know, end of the year party, Christmas… that kind of thing.”

“Oh, yes.” Wilhemina absolutely hated those. She would always find a way to sneak out early, or not even show up at all. What would Jeff and Mutt do? Fire her? “Why?”

“We always have those at the company. People seem to like them, I personally do.” Billie Dean realized the plane had stabilized itself in the air. The grip on her hand softened up a little. “Christmas is coming soon, and we’re starting to plan the company’s Christmas party. It’ll be nice, we usually do it at a nice hall, with food, music…”

“That seems nice.” It was an honest opinion. Wilhemina usually despised any kind of gathering, but Billie Dean Howard & Co. seemed like a very nice place so far, and perhaps more than that, she felt very nice working there. Comfortable, capable, happy.

“I’ll personally go pick you up if you don’t show up,” Billie Dean teased with a cheeky smirk.

Wilhemina let out a small laugh. “I will show up.”

“I’ll take that as a promise.”

“Fair.” Venable nodded. Another yawn escaped her lips, and she turned to the window to hide her face from Billie Dean. Now, with the plane stabilized, all the adrenaline washed away and gave room to exhaustion.

“You should take a nap,” Billie said softly. “I’ll wake you up when we land.” Their hands were still together. Billie Dean didn’t mind, and she also tried not to think much about it. It was confusing, and trying to understand its meaning was no use right now.

“You wouldn’t mind?” Venable looked back at Billie.

“Of course not. Go rest, I’ll be here.”

Offering a tired smile, Wilhemina nodded. She shifted a little on her seat in order to get more comfortable, closing her eyes soon after. Sleep was quick to crowd her senses, and in no more than ten minutes she had fallen asleep. The last thing she heard was the flight attendant offering them some snacks, but Venable ignored it; she was still full from their lunch. Floratta Blue clouded her nostrils and dreams.

Billie Dean closed her eyes soon after the flight attendant passed by them. She put her and Wilhemina’s snacks in her purse, and then she leaned back against the seat as well. She kept on hearing the conversations around them, focusing on nothing at all but also not listening to her thoughts. A few entities tried contacting her, but she did her best to ignore them. A few minutes later, when sleep began crawling inside of her and her senses weren’t as sharp anymore, something began to tickle her cheek. Slowly, Billie opened her eyes; Wilhemina’s head was closer to hers, and before she could really think about it, Venable leaned to rest on Billie Dean’s shoulder. Lavender clouded her nostrils. Oh… Billie licked her lips and looked down at their hands; Wilhemina’s fingers were still tangled around hers, a little bit loosen now. As gentle as a feather, Billie Dean allowed her thumb to caress Venable’s hand… her skin was as soft as a plump. Her fingers are gorgeous. They were; long and delicate, but with a few callouses. Her thumb now traced Wilhemina’s a little slower, taking in every detail of it. With Venable’s face so close to her ear, Billie Dean could listen to every tiny snore and breath she left. It was incredibly soothing. I didn’t think I’d fall for someone that soon… Billie didn’t have luck in dating, and for a while she had just given up and stuck to flings and meaningless connections. But she didn’t want to have a fling with Wilhemina, and their connection was anything but meaningless. Hesitantly, Billie turned her head to gently bury her nose into red locks. Her eyes closed. I don’t know what to do. It wasn’t fair with Emma, it wasn’t fair with Venable, and it wasn’t fair with herself. But they were all adults, weren’t them? It’s a shitty thing to do… make Wilhemina choose. Billie Dean sighed and slowly lifted her head to rest it against the seat again. With Venable in mind and listening to her breath, sleep got the best of Billie.

Wilhemina’s sleep mingled itself with the sound of an unusual voice. As she began to wake up, her eyes slowly opened up and she was reminded she was still at the plane. And then Floratta Blue invaded her nostrils. And then she realized her cheek was resting at something that wasn’t the seat. Brown eyes lifted up to Billie Dean’s jaw; she, too, had fallen asleep. Their fingers were still slightly tangled, palms resting against each other. Venable gulped. I can’t remember ever doing that with anyone. Granted, she didn’t really do anything, for she had been asleep, but even asleep and in such an uncomfortable place to fall sleep, your body had to be aware of its surroundings. Wilhemina allowed her eyes to explore Billie’s jaw and neck, counting the freckles there and smelling her perfume as her pulse point slowly moved. I don’t want to move. Being so close to Billie Dean, like that, felt safe. Would Billie mind? If she woke up now, would she mind how close they were? Wilhemina was brought back to that morning, when she herself woke up with Billie Dean so close to her in bed. Had she minded? Not at all. A sigh left her lips. Is this how friends are supposed to feel? Venable didn’t know. The plane began its descending, which caused Billie Dean to start stirring from her slumber. Wilhemina felt herself panicking. What if she gets angry? In her nervous state, she closed her eyes again. And then she waited. Billie Dean hummed close to her ear, indicating she had woken up. And then Wilhemina prepared herself for a negative reaction; for Billie Dean to push her away, for Billie Dean to get mad, for Billie Dean to wake her up and untangle their fingers and treat her coldly. And instead… nothing happened. For a few seconds. And Venable was about to open her eyes and apologize when suddenly, a cold nose buried into her hair. And soft fingers caressed her own. Wilhemina’s body struggled not to go stiff, for she didn’t want Billie Dean to stop. It didn’t last long, though, and soon Billie pulled away from her head and gently shook her hand.

“Wilhemina,” Billie Dean whispered in a sleepy, raspier-than-usual voice. Wilhemina pretended to be waking up again, humming as she pulled away with her eyes still closed. “We’ve landed.”

“Already?” Venable murmured. And she felt so stupid but so weirdly proud for having managed to put this up. Billie Dean hummed. Finally, she opened her eyes. Billie smiled at her.

“You didn’t even notice.” The words came in a happy tone. Billie squeezed Wilhemina’s hand again. “That’s good. Did you manage to rest?”

With her brain still struggling a little to think quickly, Wilhemina nodded and blinked a few times. She focused on Billie Dean, and her chest fluttered a little. She’s so beautiful. It had turned into a recurring thought, how utterly gorgeous Billie always managed to look. “I did, yes.” She offered a smile back. “Did you?”

Billie Dean nodded. “Very much so.” It felt bittersweet. The plane stopped, people began to get up. Billie eyed their hands. So it’s over. Why did it feel like something huge was ending? They would see each other again the next day. No one was going to die. Billie licked her lips as people walked past their seats. “The driver will get you home…”

Venable nodded. She, too, was afraid something was ending. What? She didn’t know. But it bothered her. “Thank you.” The words meant more than they sounded like.

Billie Dean nodded. She understood that. “You, too.” With another smile, she pulled away to get up. Wilhemina followed her until they found their luggage, and then they went outside and looked for the driver. Silence was present, but loneliness was not. When they found the car, the driver was already waiting to help them get settled inside. They agreed it made more sense to drop Venable first, and so they followed that way. In the backseat, Billie watched Wilhemina from the corner of her eye. Venable, on the other hand, stared out of the window with a frown between her eyebrows and knuckles resting on her chin. As soft as she could, Billie Dean broke the silence. “What are you thinking about?”

Taken by surprise, Venable slowly turned to look at Billie Dean, mind still processing the question. “Oh—just work.” She licked her dry lips.

Billie hummed. “What about it?”

Wilhemina didn’t want to share; not a hundred percent, at least. So, she shared fifty. “Tomorrow, at the office. The reports and all.”

Billie Dean nodded slowly. “Happy to be back?” Am I?

Was she? I’ll see Emma… which is good. It was, right? Wilhemina nodded after a moment. “Are you?”

Billie nodded. The conversation was so weird… they were back home. They were back to how things were just two days before. Why was it so different all of a sudden? A small sigh left her lips. And Wilhemina’s brown eyes stared at her, as if waiting for an answer. As if waiting for something she could work with to try and help Billie Dean. But the explanation didn’t come, for the driver began to park in front of Venable’s house. Billie’s honey eyes moved to the window, paying attention to Wilhemina’s house; it was so her. Classy, but modest. Gray in color with slightly purple-ish grey details on the door and windows. Despite the weird change in air that had happened, a small smile crawled onto Billie Dean’s features. “That’s a beautiful house.” Granted, it didn’t seem to be as big as hers, but it was still a comfortable size.

“Thank you.” Wilhemina had bought it many years ago; it was the first thing she had done with her money: save it for a house, and also pay her students’ loan. She looked back at Billie Dean, and a melancholic feeling settled itself between them. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Venable said, soft but decisive.

“Yes.” Billie didn’t know if a hug would be appropriate right now. And a handshake felt too professional. So instead, she weirdly waved.

With the goodbye gesture, Wilhemina began to get out of the car. She was longing for something, but she didn’t know what. A hug, perhaps? But since when did she long for hugs? After thanking the driver for getting her suitcase, she followed to the door. And then she looked back at Billie Dean one last time, finding her eyes on her already. This time, she smiled a little. Just as weirdly as Billie had done, Venable waved at her. They shared a small chuckle before she turned around and got inside. Purpura was quick to greet her at the door, meowing loudly as she rubbed her side on the suitcase. “Hi, sweetheart,” Wilhemina said rather excitedly. She quickly got rid of her shoes and sat down on the couch, eager to pet the cat. “Did you miss me?” Purpura had jumped on Venable’s lap by now, meowing more and more as she rubbed her head against Wilhemina’s hand, demanding for attention—happily, Venable complied. “Oh, I’ve missed you!” Purpura felt so much like home. Her soft purrs began to fill the room, causing Wilhemina to let out a laugh before she leaned to kiss the cat’s head. Purpura bumped against her nose with her own, soon rubbing it on Venable’s cheek. Wilhemina couldn’t help the bright smile that adorned her face. “That was so much time away from you, wasn’t it?” Huge, dark eyes stared at Venable. “I know.” She pouted. Purpura meowed at her again. This time, Wilhemina caressed the cat’s rump underneath her sweater and, as usual, Purpura arched her back as she enjoyed the caresses, purrs intensifying. Now, in the comfort of her house and feeling so at ease, Venable let out a deep breath. Those were strange two days. Things seemed to have shifted. After petting Purpura for what seemed like an eternity and texting Emma to let her know she had arrived safely, Wilhemina got up to check on the cat’s food and water and, once that was settled, she cleaned her sandbox and moved to unpack. While she did so, she began telling Purpura everything about the travel; how awful Carmen was, how beautiful the hotel looked, how flying felt… how she had shared a bed with Billie Dean, how she had allowed someone to actually hug her after so long, how she had had many experiences she had never had before. All with Billie Dean. Stopping with a neatly folded sweater on her hands, Venable looked at Purpura, who lay comfortably on the bed. “I think I’ve found a friend…” The cat stared at her. “A true one this time… like you.” Wilhemina nibbled on her lower lip for a second, eyes focused on nothing at all. She thought back to earlier, in the plane; to how comfortable and comforting it had felt to lay on Billie Dean’s shoulder. And to how Billie had buried her nose into her hair, and then smiled at her with sleepy eyes and not-so-flawless hair. What would it be like to wake up next to her every day? It was a stupid thing to ask herself. Shaking her head, Venable put the sweater inside her wardrobe and finished to unpack. Night was already falling down.

In her house, Billie Dean sighed loudly as she sat down on the warm water of her tub. She had lit the only candle she had left and, coincidentally or not, it smelled like lavender. A glass of wine rested beside her on the floor. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the marble and allowed her body to relax. She felt… somber. The house was huge and empty as it had always been, except now, after spending two days with Wilhemina, it felt kind of lonely. Which only caused Billie Dean to feel even worse, for she would usually treasure her alone time—God knows how rare that was. My agent will kill me when she finds out about Carmen. Funny enough, Billie didn’t regret anything. Carmen had it coming, and Venable had helped her realize that, perhaps, the past haunted her more than she would like to admit. With another sigh, Billie Dean reached for the glass and took a sip of the wine, carefully placing it back down once she had done so. The dark liquid invaded her tastebuds and caused her to hum as she savored it. 2005. Great batch. Billie closed her eyes again, and this time she saw Wilhemina behind her eyelids. I think she would appreciate that wine. Billie Dean decided they would have to share a bottle of wine sometime. Her teeth found her lower lip, and she nibbled on it. Was she doing anything wrong? They’re not serious, after all… But Billie was tired of having meaningless flings. I don’t want a fling with her. How would she ever know what to do if she didn’t actually do anything? The worst that can happen is… Rejection. Billie Dean didn’t want to think about it; didn’t want to think about how it could affect their friendship. It’s not fair. To who? She didn’t want to think about it anymore. So she didn’t, and instead she gulped the wine down and focused on how good the warm water felt as it relaxed all of her sore muscles. Hours later, when she got to bed, Billie’s thoughts got coated with purple again. She looked over to her phone. I shouldn’t. But why? They were friends, for fuck’s sake! Reaching for it, she opened Wilhemina’s contact and began to type: ’Thank you so much for coming along. I hope it wasn’t too bad.’ She hit send. And then her honey eyes lingered on the screen for a little longer before she began typing again. ’You’re a good friend, Wilhemina. I hope I can be a good friend to you, too… thank you. I mean it.’ Reading the text again and again, Billie Dean decided to just send it. And so she did, and the wine had already gotten her a little drowsy as well as the exhaustion from the day. With a deep sigh, Billie turned around and closed her eyes, ready to sleep until eleven.

With a book on her lap and Purpura by her side on the bed, Venable let out a yawn as she flipped the page. Her eyes had grown heavy, but Shakespeare had managed to suck her into his stories once again. When her phone vibrated on the nightstand, however, she got pulled back to reality. Pushing the book aside, Wilhemina reached for her phone. There were a few notifications from Emma, but the newest one came from Billie Dean. With a tiny frown, she opened the texts. ’I hope I can be a good friend to you, too.’ Dark brown eyes read it over and over again until her chest felt tight with joy. Her lips curled up into a small smile. She took the time to think about me… People didn’t usually care about how they could make Venable happy. But Billie Dean did. And that realization was strange in an overwhelmingly good way. She began to type, and something lifted the rock just a little more and allowed Wilhemina to be a tiny bit more open than usual: ’I’m glad I did. It wasn’t bad at all.’ said the first message. And once Venable sent it, she paused for a second before starting to type again, ’I think you are, perhaps, the best friend I’ve ever had… so, don’t worry about that. I should be the one thanking you.’ Nervously licking her lips, Wilhemina read the message again; it read so desperate. But she had been desperate her whole life. I shouldn’t be embarrassing myself like that. But was honesty embarrassing? Billie Dean had been honest earlier, when they were having lunch, and it was anything but embarrassing. In fact, it had been poetic, raw, beautiful. I want my words to be beautiful. So she hit send. And then she set her phone aside as well as the book she had been reading and turned around to stare at Purpura’s sleepy eyes; they carried so much truth to them. Wisdom, almost. “It’s odd,” Venable spoke nearly in a whisper. The cat’s huge, dark eyes opened up a little more, staring right into Wilhemina’s, whom reached to caress Purpura’s head. “To feel like you have someone who thinks about you…” Purrs had already begun to fill the silence. She paused. “Emma thinks about me, too.” Overwhelming. That was the only word Venable could think of. Overwhelming, like when you felt so cold you couldn’t stand too close to the fire, or when something was so sweet you couldn’t stand to eat too much at once, for you got nauseated. When the silence prolonged itself for too long, Purpura let out a tiny meow. Wilhemina blinked once and looked at her. “It’s frightening, Purpura…” The cat’s ears got up. Venable’s chin trembled slightly, eyes tempting to gloss over. “The fall, from this height… it’s frightening.” She sniffled. Purpura leaned closer and allowed a clawless paw to rest on Wilhemina’s cheek. Venable opened a small smile. “You’re right… the bliss feels like no other.” She leaned closer to the cat once again and kissed her little head. And then she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. I just don’t want to get hurt again.

Eleven arrived too fast. Billie Dean groaned until the sound of her alarm was too unbearable for her to handle anymore, and she was forced to turn around and turn it off. After a few minutes of sleepy yawns and thoughts about the day, she finally sat up in bed. I could sleep for a whole day. Billie never got the chance to sleep that much, and when she did, her body refused to wake up when the time came. Lazily, she reached for her phone; there were texts and more texts from Jenny and from her agent, which she decided was far too soon to deal with it. And then her eyes fell on Wilhemina’s name, and with that came the texts she herself had sent her the night before. She instantly clicked on the notification, and her eyes focused on the small letters, brain making sense of them. And when they made sense, Billie read them yet again. And her lower lip got caught between her teeth as she opened a sleepy smile. ’I think you are, perhaps, the best friend I’ve ever had… so, don’t worry about that. I should be the one thanking you.’ Billie Dean read it again and again. And then one more time. And then one last time. And then she didn’t really know what to answer, for had anyone ever said that to her and actually meant it? With no second intentions? Billie Dean was sure the answer was no. She deserves so much more. How could the world have failed someone so kind that much? Yes, at first glance Wilhemina was nothing but a bitter, rude woman with a purple obsession, but anyone who took the time to get closer to her would soon realize just how special she could be. How is she so lonely? How could Billie Dean, out of all people, manage to get close to Venable? I suppose she doesn’t allow people to just… get close. It caused Billie’s stomach to twist, for she had trusted her. And she was trusting Emma. And Emma had better not hurt Wilhemina, for Billie Dean would not allow it. Honey eyes stared at the phone again, but Billie Dean was still at a loss of words. I would give her a hug right now, if we were together. So Billie typed exactly that, and prayed it was enough for Venable to understand how much the words had meant to her.

Entering the elevator of the company felt different, now. Wilhemina was wearing the same style of trousers she always did, with heels and a sweater, all purple, as always. But it still felt… different. She felt different. When the elevator’s door opened, heels clacked on the marble floor along with her cane. Venable entered the office quietly, and a frown made its way to her face when she noticed the office, too, was quiet. Once she reached her table, Wilhemina set her MacBook there and looked for a note; perhaps Emma had decided to have lunch with the rest of the crew—she didn’t blame her, if she could she, too, wouldn’t want to be around herself. There was no note, though. And Venable’s walls were starting to go up and she was already starting to regret ever allowing Emma in when the sound of heels echoed from the hall.

“Wilhemina!” Emma exclaimed, and before Venable knew what hit her, arms wrapped themselves around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. With her body as hard as a rock, Wilhemina pulled away after only a second; Emma’s hands were too close to her spine, it wasn’t safe. “I’ve missed you! How was the trip? You never answered my texts from yesterday.” She carried that huge smile into her face, and her green eyes sparkled.

Too much. Venable blinked once. “Hi—it was good.” She fixed her posture a little, hand gripping on her cane. “I was exhausted yesterday.”

“That’s okay.” Emma kept on smiling. Wilhemina wasn’t used to greetings like that; with that much happiness, and that much excitement. She shifted her weight from one foot to another. “You look gorgeous.” Emma brought a hand up to brush a stray of red hair behind Venable’s ear, which caused her brown eyes to open a little more.

“Thank you.” Wilhemina cleared her throat. Emma had proven to be someone with light touches, which she appreciated. The compliment caused the skin of her cheeks to grow slightly rosy. “So do you.” In all honesty, Venable hadn’t taken a good look of Emma yet, but she knew that wasn’t necessarily important when saying those words; Emma was a gorgeous woman. She always looked beautiful.

“Thank you.” Emma’s smile grew impossibly more.

Wilhemina nodded. “Of course.” She felt as Emma’s free hand rested on her waist, playing with her sweater while the other one played with her hair still. “I thought you had already gone out for lunch, with everyone else.”

“I wouldn’t miss having lunch with you for anything in this world.” Emma’s sapphire eyes kept on staring deeply at Venable, and the words caused Wilhemina to shudder a little. They were so secure and so… strong. They carried so much meaning. “Everyone left a few minutes ago… but not me.” Emma paused. “I’ve missed you,” she repeated. And Wilhemina knew exactly what she meant by the way her eyes fell down to her lips. “Can I kiss you?” The question just confirmed her suspicions. And Venable nodded, for there was no one else in the office, and the words had left her feeling a certain type of way. Emma pulled Wilhemina closer by the waist, while the hand playing with her hair moved to cup her cheek. And then their lips met, soft and matching just how Venable remembered Emma’s kiss to be like. Her own free hand rested on Emma’s hip, for she knew she enjoyed it, and then she allowed herself to just feel; Emma still tasted like strawberries—the fresh and sweet ones—her heart had picked up in speed and when she took a deep breath, air barely entered her lungs. She kept on kissing Emma, growing more comfortable as the seconds passed by. And then Emma pulled her just a bit closer, and the hand on her cheek pulled away and, suddenly, it rested on Venable’s own hand, guiding it down her hip. The hair on the back of Wilhemina’s neck stood up; she took a deep breath. Emma smirked against her lips while still guiding Venable’s hand down. Lower. Until it rested on the soft fat of her left buttcheek, on top of the dress she was wearing. She left it there and moved back to cupping Wilhemina’s sharp cheek, kissing her with a little more gusto. Venable froze in place, saving from her lips. The hand on Emma’s cheek stayed there, but she didn’t move it one bit. Her brain refused to process it; refused to process she was touching the place she had once fantasized about. Her whole body grew hot. Calm down. Wilhemina’s heart felt as if it was beating on her throat. And when Emma cupped the back of her neck and slipped her tongue inside her mouth, Venable thought she was going to pass out. Her stomach twisted like it had done in the car the day of their date, and the fingers around her cane squeezed the wood as much as they could. When Emma pulled away, she smirked softly at her, breath heavy just like Wilhemina’s. “You don’t have to be so shy,” she purred.

“I—I’m not,” Venable protested, but in the state she was and with how close Emma was standing, her tone was anything but firm.

“You can touch me,” Emma said yet again. “Can squeeze my ass, you know,” she teased. And Wilhemina felt herself blushing so much that she figured kissing Emma again would be the only way to hide how red her cheeks were turning. And so she did; and Emma hummed against her lips and squeezed her waist. Venable’s chest was still quivering, but she gathered enough strength and gently squeezed the fat on her hand. A giggle left Emma’s lips, and with that Wilhemina allowed herself to smile a little against their kiss. She wasn’t sure if Emma was a good kisser or not, but she knew it felt good. Reality had long left Venable’s brain, until a very familiar scent invaded her nostrils: Floratta Blue. And it hit her how they were in the middle of the work office, where anyone could walk in, including their boss; including Billie Dean. Opening her eyes, Wilhemina pulled away. Emma frowned, but shortly it disappeared when Billie entered the room soon after.

#ahs #american horror story #ahs hotel #ahs apocalypse #ahs murder house #Billie Dean Howard x Wilhemina Venable #wilhemina venable #billie dean howard #Would you Swallow all your Pride?#rabexxpaulson #fanfiction #fanfic #lesbian story #lesbian #lesbian fanfic #ahs fanfic #ahs fanfiction

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fleurmioneweek · 2 years

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MISSION FAILED SUCCESSFULLY! FLEURMIONE WEEK 2022 DAY 3

If only life came with subtitles, then maybe we'd avoid awkward situations like chaotic duck proposals, horny karaoke proposals, magic honey...errr juice, and accidentally sucking face with your gorgeously insufferable French counterpart who really infuriates you to no end because they keep trying to seduce your high school bully and boy is there trauma there but the only person they should be kissing is you and the way they move their tongue should be considered illegal especially when they do that thing where—ahem. Anyways, here are today's hilarious misunderstandings for the prompt:

Day 3: "Wait, did you not say 'You should (insert word here) her'?"

"No, I said 'You should (insert word here) her.'"

"Merde."

Three chances in a thousand by Mushroom_grey_scale

Day 3 by Midmoon_Kitsune

The Little Push by Hermione_Stranger

Fleur and Hermione Versus The Nemesis by lipeviez

That Thrall Thing by perfectly_random

Magic Veela Honey by Starr_Ent_CEO Seduction-Truce by DisasterXL

It's Love That Brings Us To Our Knees Chapter 2 by lauradeanna

As always, submissions for today and past days are always open. Make sure to tag them so we can find them! And we'll see you tomorrow withhhhhh: *drum roll please*

DAY 4: FREE DAY

GO WILD FLEURMUNINNYS (krum would be proud) Anything goes! Just like that terrible fandom name I just coined.

#fleurmione week 2022 #day 3 #fleurmione week #fleurmione #hermione x fleur #hermione granger #fleur delacour #hp femslash #hp wlw #challenge week #writing prompts

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drylan · 2 years

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Total Eclipse | Sequel to A Full Moon’s Night & Wintery Woof

Ship: Dylan Lenivy/Ryan Ezraheler

Tags: Post-Canon, Werewolf!Dylan, Canon-Typical Violence, Flirting, Established Relationship, Kissing, Past Character Deaths, Adult Situations/Intimacy

Rating: Explicit

Synopsis: With a lunar eclipse during the full moon, Dylan seems to be transforming before the sun fully sets. The young couple must find a way to navigate this sudden development to the curse. Meanwhile, Ryan scours through Travis Hackett’s werewolf journal in private, hoping to find a solution to Dylan’s predicament.

Winter had begun to give way to spring, but not in its entirety. Night could still be bitter, cold, breath visible and a snowflake or two may fall from the sky. With that in mind, Ryan didn’t want to risk Dylan’s wellbeing during the March full moon. So, back to Hackett House they went.

“Man, we might have to make some repairs soon.” Dylan blinked up at the living room ceiling where a crack was beginning to outline in the plaster.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll just whip out my wealth of repairman knowledge.” Ryan snorted as he took stock of their supplies, tossing a package of jerky to Dylan, who eagerly tore it open and began eating. His appetite was always increased tenfold around the moon.

“What, I’ve seen like...ten episodes of Bob the Builder.” Dylan feigned to be in deep thought as he pretended to measure the crack in the ceiling. “Can we fix it?”

Which led to Dylan singing the entirety of Can We Fix It while Ryan laid out his sleeping bag and notes from class. He figured he might as well study since he never got much sleep on full moons anyways.

“You’re insufferable, you know that, right?” Ryan chuckled as Dylan finished the last chorus and his bag of jerky. Ryan wasn’t a fan of cured meats, but he didn’t mind them when the taste was from Dylan’s lips. The couple kissed deeply, before they parted and Ryan’s eyes slowly slid open to meet Dylan’s kind gaze.

Yellow. Dylan’s eyes were yellow. Already. The full moon wasn’t due for another couple hours.

“Wow, was the kiss that bad-”

Ryan flustered at that, still struck speechless as he turned on his phone and switched the camera so Dylan could see himself. “W-What...”

“What the fuck?” Dylan stammered. “The sun hasn’t even set fully, what the fuck? What the fuck? How the fuck is this-”

Dylan began to pace back and forth, not unlike last summer in the radio hut. Ryan would never say it aloud, would never bring up the painful past unnecessarily. But fuck, how much trouble would he have spared Dylan had he just cut his hand off like he had begged?

But there was no time to dwell on that now as he shook off his own shock. “Look, hey, it’s okay. Maybe, you know, the sun is just setting faster than meteorologists predicted, okay? Let’s just...deep breaths, okay? You’re okay.”

Dylan followed as Ryan instructed, ceasing his pacing and took deep breaths and counted backwards from ten. “Okay, okay, maybe you’re right. I-It’s nothing, just a bit earlier, right? Um...we should get down to the cages, yeah?”

“Yeah, let’s...let’s get you down there.”

They worked triple speed. Ryan couldn’t help but wince as Dylan hastily cut his hand and offered up vials of blood, one of which Ryan automatically smeared across his face. Just to be safe.

“Easy, hey, deep breathes, remember?” Ryan stopped as Dylan nearly tore his shirt in half as he struggled with the buttons.

“Yes, you just...” Dylan swallowed, unable to meet Ryan’s eyes with his own golden ones. “...smell so good. Too good. Even with the blood, man, it’s...never been like this. It’s sorta freaking me out a little.”

“A little?” Ryan had taken over unbuttoning Dylan’s shirt, knowing the other teen would never forgive him if he let it get ruined.

“Okay, a lot.”

Ryan helped him shrug off his shirt and before he thought better of it, he leant in and offered a gentle kiss to the long column of Dylan’s pale throat, paler now than normal with more pronounced veins. Dylan let out a relieved sigh and seemed a bit more relaxed then.

Sure, Ryan was freaked out himself. He could tell Dylan was different. This was different than other full moons. But both of them freaking out got them nowhere. Dylan depended on him and Ryan would be damned before he would let him down. He had already let Dylan down once, but not cutting off his fucking hand like he had asked.

Shit, again. No time to think about it.

He led the taller teen downstairs through the trapdoor and into the cages, locking it slowly. Dylan sat down on the air mattress they had already set up for the occasion, staring up at Ryan through his long lashes. Fuck, had they always been that long? Had Dylan legs always been so long, too? His lips so fucking pretty?

Holy fuck, what was going on with Ryan? And what was going on with Dylan? They hadn’t been prepared for this at all, which was a terrifying thought as they had forced themselves to get better and better at preparing every full moon. More supplies. Getting to Hackett’s Quarry earlier and earlier. Perfecting their lies to their families to justify the repeated excursions miles away from their apartment and colleges.

But this was out of left field and they were flying blind.

“Jus-Just, stay down here...” Ryan managed as he watched Dylan stretch out on the mattress, dressed in nothing but his tracking collar and a thin pair of sleep shorts that rode up the thighs of his very long legs.

“Can’t really go anywhere...” Dylan smacked his lips and rolled over onto his stomach, hands running along the edge of the concrete floor, drawing mesmerizing circles that left Ryan in a bit of a trance. “...not unless you want me somewhere, baby.” He winked, the gold glint shining in the overhead light, voice a deep husk.

“R-Right, right...” Ryan replied awkwardly before he jetted back upstairs. Fuck, he had actually contemplated opening the cage and getting in there with Dylan and kissing him silly. Sure, he had the blood to protect him, but that was a normal full moon. And apparently this was anything but.

He rummaged through his bag and fetched out that werewolf journal, which he had learned belonged to Mr. H’s younger brother, Travis Hackett. It had a wealth of knowledge in it, but Ryan hadn’t even deciphered a quarter of it all. He hadn’t told Dylan about it yet. Not that he didn’t trust the other boy with the knowledge, but Dylan had enough to worry about without Ryan possibly getting his hopes up for nothing.

Ryan also pulled out paper copies of the forecast and sunrise and sunset predictions. They always gave themselves generous time between what meteorologists predicted, just in case, which is why it was all the more shocking that Dylan seemed to be on the cusp of turning.

He scrambled a bit, looking between the forecast and the closed cover of the journal, as if he would be able to absorb the information that would solve the current predicament just through frantic flicks of his eyes. No, this would get him nowhere.

“C’mon, c’mon...” The sun had set fully and Ryan closed the windows, turning on a couple lights that their generator graciously provided power for. He poured over the forecast again, before he froze. “...holy shit.” A total, local lunar eclipse.

That couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?

Even if it was, it was more information than he had before. With a lunar eclipse in mind, he flipped through the journal. God, there were so many meticulous details. It was overwhelming as Ryan tried to skim page after page, but he found a raggedy section in the middle of the journal labeled ‘ECLIPSE’ in big bold letters.

There was nothing about solar eclipses, but under heading ‘LUNAR’ Travis had detailed an evening report of a lunar eclipse in 2019. In it, he detailed how much smoother it was, that his brother was more his brother than he had seen in any full moon since the bite. But he also wasn’t.

Caution and close supervision were still necessary, but a lunar eclipse seemed to mash man and beast in a way that was more manageable. Full transformation didn’t happen, but some wolf characteristics still shined through, inhibitions were lowered and those infected with the curse were far more likely to give into baser instincts, but retained their memories and a sense of autonomy.

Ryan was both relieved, but also a little overwhelmed at the prospect of this all. What did this mean for Dylan and he? Travis detailed this from the perspective of family members and familial dynamics, obviously. But would the behaviors be different between he and Dylan?

He thought back to how Dylan had looked down in the cage, coy and playful, eyes like starlight. Yeah, it...it definitely impacted them differently.

But he had an answer. And now that he thought of it, the sun had been down for nearly an hour and Dylan might have been counting down the time until he transformed. According to the journal, though, that wouldn’t be the case.

“Dylan, Dylan!” Ryan froze, Dylan laid out on the mattress, writhing and gasping. “...hey, um...”

“Ryan!” He groan softly, gold eyes lighting up as he took in his boyfriend. “...still haven’t turned. Think I’m broken or something. Trying turn me on and off again...” His eyes were blown wide, racking over Ryan’s form in a way that made the teen feel hot in the best of ways. “Although, dunno how you’d manage to turn me off, though.”

“Perv.” Ryan chuckled, taking the rest of the steps down and plopping down in front of Dylan. “You’re not broken, it’s the lunar eclipse, I think.”

“Oh.” Dylan didn’t even seem to question it, which was unlike Dylan. That was fine with Ryan. Again, he didn’t want to trouble him with that journal or everything else. “So, I’m stuck here, hot and bothered and wanting you for the next several hours. Doesn’t seem fair.” He pouted, the fangs of his half shifted teeth hanging over his kissable bottom lips.

“I could always join you in there.”

That snapped Dylan slightly out of his trance. “No, no, Ryan...I can’t risk hurting you.”

“Something tells me you won’t.” Ryan really just couldn’t handle seeing Dylan writhing like this. Sure, he was joking and playful, but it was obvious being separated like this was causing him pain. Overstimulated and understimulated at the same time and Ryan wanted to help him solve that.

“But-”

“You said it was different this time, right? So, so what do you want?”

“I want you to touch me.” The sincere honesty there, the desperation, it compelled Ryan to be a bit reckless. He fumbled with the keys only for a moment before unlocking the cell and stepping inside.

Dylan scrambled for a moment, before pushing himself up against the corner of the cell, eyes still the vibrant, enticing gold. “Ryan, no, no...”

“Do you think you’re going to hurt me right now?” Ryan asked firmly. He did have silver in one pocket and an extra vial of blood in his other if he needed them, but based on what Travis had written and Dylan’s own behavior, it didn’t seem like they were needed.

“Of course not, I-”

“Then what’s the point of leaving you in here all alone, when I can just as easily touch you, huh?” Ryan was surprised at how low his voice dipped as he stepped in closer, brushing back Dylan’s hair. The half-wolf moaned, tilting his head back and nuzzling into Ryan’s hand. “C’mere, lemme touch you.”

“Yeah, yeah...okay. P-Please.” Dylan gasped, letting himself be led back to the mattress where Ryan began to kiss him easily, lips trailing down and marking up his pale throat. Fuck, Dylan was so long...there was so much of him, Ryan couldn’t help but touch and kiss him all over.

This was far from the first time he and Dylan had been intimate. Their first time had been months ago and they had worked together to figure out what they both liked. It was fun, and sweet, and hot as hell.

But through all their experimentation Dylan hadn’t quite been like this. So uncontrolled and uncoordinated. Ryan had to take the lead, helping to take his own pants off and sliding off Dylan’s sleep soft shorts.

Every touch seemed to send a shock through Dylan’s body, whimpers and gasps following. He was definitely too far gone to do anything but to rut against Ryan, but that was fine as far as Ryan was concerned. He managed to get some lube between them while Dylan panted.

“Kiss me, lick me, please, I-I need...” Dylan gasped as his voice grew higher, pinned down by Ryan as he bucked and writhed. It was really going to Ryan’s head how goddamn hot this all was, how amazing Dylan was with his miles of pale skin and inhuman eyes that still held the warmness Ryan knew and loved.

He obeyed as Dylan pleaded, sucking more marks into his neck and throat, a collar of red and purple that the taller teen seemed to adore each addition to.

After they both came, Dylan filled out moments later, panting into Ryan’s ear. “Please, more...I-I...need you. My mate, please.”

Mate. That was a new one, probably attributable to this whacky eclipse nonsense. Ryan took it in stride, though, sliding a few lubed fingers inside and taking Dylan into his mouth, the other boy almost howling his pleasure.

They were in for a long, pleasurable, exhausting night.

💛

“We’re definitely gonna have to get a new air mattress, huh?” Dylan snorted, as he lugged another bag into

“Yeah, I think it might have met it’s jizz quota by like, midnight.” Ryan snorted.

“Gross, but yeah, you’re right.” He chuckled, flopping into the passenger seat while Ryan slid behind the wheel. “Thanks, again, for...taking care of me last night. I know it was a lot, but...not that you were complaining.”

“I wasn’t.” He agreed with a smirk, not missing the heated gaze behind Dylan’s equally beautiful dark browns. “But I don’t know how often I can keep up with that wolf stamina of yours.”

“Yeah, it was a bit impressive. Even for me.” He grinned, but seemed to hesitate just a moment, before letting out a soft sigh. “How did you know I wouldn’t hurt you? I mean, last night was fun, but super risky, dude.”

Ryan’s hands clenched on the wheel. Yeah, he should have figured Dylan would probe and ask. But he didn’t have to worry about that journal. He shouldn’t have to worry anymore than he already does. Ryan had it covered. “Just, intuition.”

“You sure about that?” He could feel Dylan’s eyes burrowing into the side of his skull as he pulled out of the overgrown brush in front of the Hackett’s house. “I would prefer if my boyfriend valued his life a little more than intuition, that can, you know, be wrong.”

“But I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Sure, yeah.” Dylan let it drop, chewing into his bottom lip. It was silent for a few minutes before he turns on the music to some sweet tunes and then they’re back on the road.

He sung along to the music, a nice balm to Ryan’s slightly frazzled mind. He really needed to delve deeper into the journal when Dylan wasn’t around. Who knows what other useful information is in there.

“You know,” Dylan’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “I love you right? And...and you can tell me anything, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” Ryan whispered softly, reaching a hand over and squeezing one of Dylan’s. “And, I-I love you, too.” And he meant it.

Dylan smiled and seemed to relax. He pulled the passenger visor down and looked at himself in the mirror. “Wow, really left a mark on me.”

“My bad, thought they would heal. Guess, more of the eclipse weirdness.” Ryan reasoned. Dylan’s hands healed from gathering werewolf blood, but Ryan’s hickies hadn’t. Maybe he wouldn’t have left so many marks if he had known.

“No worries.” Dylan smirked and proudly observed his neck more before closing the visor. “I like it.��

“You would.”

“You’re not innocent in this, you know. Marking me all up. Naughty Ryan. Bad. Or good.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ryan laughed.

💛

“I’m gonna go fetch Toffee from the neighbors.” Ryan gave Dylan a soft kiss as the taller teen began to unload their bags from the Jeep.

“Ah, yes, I’ve missed that furry little bastard.” Dylan grinned, before lugging up their bags the few flights up to their apartment. He overexerted himself a little, though, and stumbled into the apartment when he managed to open the door. “Shit!”

Dylan scrambled to try and pick up Ryan’s things that had fallen to the floor in their living room. He felt like such a goddamn klutz, but quickly began putting things away. He paused, though, once he came upon an old, worn, leather book. It was strange and looked like nothing Ryan had ever owned. He knew he shouldn’t snoop, but...Dylan is definitely a curious person.

He flipped it open, and confused dawned on him. A name in the inside cover had Hackett in it, and it detailed things about wolves. What the fuck? How had Ryan gotten this? When did he-

“Oh, shit...” Ryan breathed out, cat in tow. He slid the front door closed and swallowed nervously.

“So, uh, when were you gonna tell me about this, bud?”

Ryan sighed and let the cat out to get acclimated to their apartment once more. “I just...I-I...”

“Ryan. What the fuck?” Dylan snapped. “When did you find this, man? There’s...there’s notes in here from you. From months ago! Did you just...decide to keep this hidden from me? Why?”

Ryan hadn’t seen Dylan this flustered and overwhelmed since that night last summer. Fuck, it made him feel like shit. “I just...I found it at the Hackett House in December.”

Dylan fought the urge to respond, motioning outward for Ryan to continue.

“So, I um, I’ve been trying to decipher everything about um, wolves in it...” Ryan concluded quietly, unable to meet Dylan’s intense gaze.

He sighed slowly, running a hand over his face. “So, why did you hide it?”

“I didn’t...didn’t want you to worry, okay. Or get your hopes up if there wasn’t anything helpful-”

“Ryan, I’m the wolf here! And you...you should have told me-why didn’t you tell me?” Dylan was a bit frantic. “Why are you shouldering so much of this? You already do so much for me, Ryan, you shouldn’t have to deal with this alone-”

“Because it’s my fault you’re like this, Dylan!” Ryan’s voice echoed throughout the rooms of their apartment and Dylan froze. He had never heard Ryan raise his voice like that, not ever. “Fuck, if I had just listened to you, if I had just cut off your hand like you asked-” The fight in Ryan seemed to drain out, tears stinging at his eyes.

“No, no, you can’t blame yourself for this.” Dylan said quickly, grabbing Ryan in his arms. “It was unfair for me to ask you to do that, okay?”

“I-If I had just done it-”

“I could have bled out. Or maybe not survived the night. Who knows, it doesn’t matter now. You can’t shoulder this all alone because of what happened that night.” Dylan smiled through his own tears, cradling Ryan closer. “Besides, I’m the wolf here, right? Big and strong...gotta protect you. Just like you’ve protected me, right?”

“Right.” Ryan said softly.

“We’ll get through this together, man, I know we will.” Dylan offered his lips up and Ryan took them in a tender kiss.

A weight lifted off of Ryan’s shoulders that day, a weight he didn’t even know was there. And he and Dylan were that much more resolved and committed to each other, prepared for anything, and to hopefully cure Dylan.

#dylan lenivy #ryan erzahler #the quarry #the quarry video game #dylan x ryan #ryan x dylan #ryan the quarry #dylan the quarry #the quarry ryan #the quarry dylan #drylan #fanfic #fanfiction #my stuff

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