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pathologicalreid · 2 months

Note

Can I please request protective Spencer x BAU!Reader who get "lightly" hurt or put in danger bc SWAT or local police made a mistake, and Spencer goes OFF on them. Hotch or Rossi have to calm him down because no one but the BAU knows theyre dating. I'd love to see protective Spencer if possible :)

no sign of danger | S.R.

when SWAT makes a mistake that puts you in danger, your boyfriend is... displeased

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: flangst content warnings: bloody nose, concussion, split lip, blood, mild violence. spencer reid says the f word. word count: 1.58k a/n: anon, not to be dramatic but something about writing this changed my brain chemistry. thank you for requesting!!! i hope you like it!

The time between arriving at a scene and when SWAT cleared the building was almost always intolerable. There were too many variables at play. It made you uneasy.

So, you waited, leaning on the side of an SUV with your Kevlar already strapped on, you turned to look at Hotch, “We’ve got an audience.”

Breadcrumbs that Garcia had picked up led the team to a house in a small town in Arizona. Unfortunately, the FBI garnered a lot of attention, and neighbors were starting to gather around the house. Hotch nodded, “Reid, JJ, work with the locals on crowd control, and make sure no one is recording. The last thing we need is for the news crews to show up.”

You offered Spencer a small smile as he turned to follow the blond to the barrier. He waved behind his back as he walked away.

Chuckling from right next to you got your attention, just to see Morgan shaking his head, “You two have it so bad.”

“I like to think we have it good, actually,” you said, flushing slightly. The teasing came with the territory, dating within the BAU meant never knowing a moment of peace – especially with Derek Morgan around.

There wasn’t an opportunity for him to respond, because as soon as he opened his mouth, your radio buzzed to life in your ear, “Building is clear. No sign of danger.” At the sound of the SWAT commander’s voice, you and Morgan surged forward to enter the building, Emily and Hotch following close behind.

Behind you, Hotch cleared his throat, “Morgan, Y/L/N, take the two rooms in the back, we’ll take the front.”

Nodding at your orders, you and Morgan walked past the staircase and to the opposite end of the house, where the kitchen and the den were. “This place looks like it’s been abandoned,” you thought aloud, dragging your index finger along the kitchen counter, and cringing when it came back covered in dust.

As you wiped your hand on your jeans, you looked up to see Morgan sorting through a vinyl record collection. “You’re right. It doesn’t look like anyone’s even entered this house in years.”

You hummed, opening the first cabinet you saw, wrinkling your nose at the discovery that the house also smelled like it had been abandoned. As you went to close the cabinet, the one below you swung open, the force of the doors almost knocking you to the ground.

Stumbling back, you saw a flash of hands before you were slammed into the refrigerator behind you. Immediately, you dropped to the floor, watching as Morgan tackled the guy and shouted for Hotch and Prentiss.

“We need an ambulance, Y/N’s down,” Emily spoke urgently into her radio while Morgan cuffed your attacker.

You winced at the way the radio buzzed in your ear; the way Emily’s voice echoed combined with the throbbing pain in your head made you nauseous. “What do you mean ‘Y/N’s down’?” Spencer’s voice rang through the radios, prompting you to haphazardly yank the coiled wire from your ear.

Everything sounded like you were underwater, Emily and Hotch asked you questions as the fog cleared from your head, “You’re bleeding,” Emily said, there was a worried look in her eyes.

Hesitantly, you pulled your hand from your face, just to see it covered in blood. You weren’t even sure how long you had been holding your hand to your face. “Can you stand?” Hotch asked you, his tone was concerned, but there was something else buried within it.

Nodding slowly, both of them helped you stand. Emily hooked an arm through yours when you stumbled slightly, she led you out of the house and to the ambulance. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Morgan place his hand atop your attacker’s head, protecting it from the top of the police cruiser.

As soon as you sat down on the back of the ambulance, an EMT handed you a towel to hold to your nose. Your eyes flittered up to see Spencer approaching the ambulance, but to your surprise, he turned at the last moment and faced down the SWAT commander. “What happened in there?” He asked, his tone wholly accusatory.

“It looks like the person of interest was hiding in the kitchen when your team entered,” Commander Polk answered, obviously thinking Spencer was just asking for a sort of status report.

Spencer shook his head, “We’re hunting for a serial killer, and you had the audacity to miss the presence of an entire person?” He asked incredulously, “Did you even clear the kitchen?” He pointed in the direction of the house, where Rossi and JJ were now entering to look around more.

The SWAT commander faltered for a moment, “Someone did, but it wasn’t me personally.”

You winced as the EMT prodded at your face, surmising that your nose wasn’t broken, just bleeding badly as a result of the blunt force of the refrigerator. She pulled your hand from your face so she could inspect for any further damage. You opened your mouth to talk, but the EMT was quick to stop you, “You shouldn’t talk, not until we can look at the cut on your lip.”

While the EMTs got more supplies out, Emily helped you take off your Kevlar vest, undoing the Velcro for you and gently tugging it off. The entire front of it was covered in blood, you winced at the sight of the now-red letters.

“You need to figure out whoever checked the kitchen and make sure they know what they’re doing,” Spencer said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Commander Polk’s demeanor instantly changed, “I assure you, agent, we take training our team very seriously. This was just a mistake.”

Even from this distance, you saw Spencer roll his eyes. “First of all, it’s doctor,” he corrected – at which you rolled your eyes. “Second of all, of course, you take training seriously, it’s mandated by the federal government. This was a mistake, a mistake that ended in the injury of a federal agent,” you looked from Hotch to Spencer, hoping your unit chief would do something before Spencer got punched by the SWAT commander. “SWAT making mistakes gets other law enforcement officers killed,” he continued.

“What’s your point, doctor?” The commander asked.

Spencer cleared his throat, “I’m saying you’re fucking lucky she didn’t get killed, or else-“

“Reid!” Hotch called, stalking over to where your boyfriend was nearly getting into a fistfight with SWAT. He muttered something unintelligible to Polk before dragging Spencer away by the elbow, “What was that?”

Your boyfriend threw his hands up in the air, “He needed to be made aware of their mistake.”

Sternly, your unit chief shook his head, “They are aware, Reid, and I assure you I’m not going to drop it and there will be an internal investigation into what went wrong.” He raised his eyebrows, “That being said, it’s not your job to take care of mistakes made by other people.”

“No,” Spencer agreed, “but it is my job to take care of her,” he said, gesturing over to where you were sitting in the back of the ambulance.

Hotch pointed around to the locals and other SWAT members, “They don’t know that, Reid.” He whispered, keeping his voice down so he didn’t expose your relationship to everyone in the Arizona town. “Let me take care of it,” was his final statement before he walked back to Commander Polk.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Spencer spun around and finally walked over to you. Emily nodded at you before stepping away, “Are you alright?” He asked.

You flashed him a thumbs up, gesturing toward the EMT, who answered for you, “We just glued the gash on her lip, so she can’t really talk right now. She’ll be fine though, maybe a small scar, if anything.”

“Good,” Spencer said, ambling over and taking a seat next to you. “I was so worried about you,” he murmured, and you watched as he restrained himself from touching you.

Humming, you leaned into him for just a moment. Your movement was intentional, but it was quick enough that any passersby would assume you were just unsteady.

The EMTs left once the glue on your lip dried, directing you to ice it periodically to help with swelling and handing you care instructions.

You were left with a mild concussion, a split lip, and ruined clothes. All things considered, you felt like you were pretty lucky. The rest of the team piled into the SUVs, you and Spencer sitting in the back of one with Hotch at the helm and Emily in the passenger seat. “Who knew Reid had it in him?” Emily wondered aloud, eliciting a small laugh from you.

“I can’t believe you almost got into a physical fight with SWAT over a split lip and concussion,” you said, smiling slightly, but stopping as you felt the glue on your lip tugging.

Spencer rolled his eyes, “It wasn’t over the split lip and concussion, it was over the abhorrent display of-“

“Reid,” Hotch said in his no-nonsense tone.

Your boyfriend slouched back in his seat, “So, maybe it was over the split lip and concussion.”

Closing your eyes, you reached over the middle seat and took his hand in yours, “Thanks, Spence.” You whispered so that only he could hear, leaning over the gap between you and setting your head on his shoulder.

please remember to like, reblog, and/or comment if you enjoyed!

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #margot's asks #written by margot #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds angst

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ivysoul · 11 months

Text

♱ PROTECTOR. — simon "ghost" riley

when a random guy tries to hit on you at the bar, you’re thankful simon was there to help you.

warnings. — drunk creepo at the bar, harassment, price and gaz are oblivious but don’t get mad at them!, reader is a medic at the company but it wasn’t really mentioned.

notes. — based off of this request! thank you, lovely :) i’m not too confident in this one but whatever.

photo creds. — yumethefrostypanda.

This wasn’t usually your crowd; bar’s weren’t somewhere you spent your time at. You only really went when there was a successful mission. And it just so happened that the boys had done just that, once again. So of course, when they invited you to a bar that a few of them were well acquainted with, you couldn’t possibly say no.

That’s how you found yourself here—playing pool with Gaz and Price as the others chatted away somewhere nearby.

“Ha! I told you, Price: never fuck with me and pool. I’ll smoke you every time,” you boasted, making a dramatic bowing motion in Price’s direction.

Price rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth tugging up into an amused smirk as he brought his cue stick up on the pool table. “Okay, okay. Don’t get cocky, now.”

You stayed quiet as you watched Price line up the cue stick, silently praying on his downfall. Gaz walked up beside Price, sticking his head in his line of sight, smirking. “I dunno, Captain. Think that’s a miss, right there.”

You giggled as you watched Price straighten his back a bit before shoving Gaz to the side. “Sick of people doubting my skills,” he groaned playfully. “See who’s gonna be laughing after this.”

Just before Price takes the shot, a man walks up beside you. He stood awfully close to you, brushing his shoulder flush against yours and then putting a hand on your lower back. You look up at him, noticing the hazy look in his eyes as his gaze bore down on you. He was obviously drunk, and that added with the strange proximity made you want to move away from him, fast. Though you found yourself unable to look away from him, much less move. It was like your body was stuck. And not willingly.

As soon as the white ball collided with one of the other pool balls, you snapped out of whatever moment you were stuck in. You looked at Gaz and Price, who were too busy having a squabble about Price not making the shot to notice this man who walked up to you like he knew you.

Moving your hand to reach behind your back, you pried the man’s hand off of you, stepping back a significant amount to create distance between you two.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you spat, immediately getting a feeling of fear when his disturbing smile stayed plastered on his face. He took a step towards you and you took one more back. But when your back hit a chair, you stopped moving. “Fuck off, dude.”

He fake pouted at you. “Oh, come on… I’m much more interesting than some game of pool.”

You looked around the room to hopefully find someone who would help you. Your brain wasn’t really all there in the moment to just yell at him, instead, you were searching for someone. Someone who you didn’t even realize you were looking for specifically, until your eyes landed on him walking out of the bathrooms hallway.

“Ghost!” Within a second, Ghost’s eyes were on yours. And then on the man. You let out a relieved breath when he started making his way over to you, walking so fast you felt out of breath just watching him.

He pushed his way between you and the man and shoved him back roughly. “You okay?” he asked you. All you could do was nod.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, man? We were havin’ a conversation!”

All you saw was Ghost’s fist collide with the man’s face before he was on the ground. The sharp sound of bone cracking and a loud thud as he hit the ground alerted everyone nearby, including Price, Gaz, and the others. Their eyes widened as they took in the scene, the surrounding area going far too quiet, save for the music still playing over the speakers.

It seemed like Ghost took notice of the staring eyes just as you did, as he turned and grabbed your arm to move you in front of him. He placed his hand on the small of your back, but this time you didn’t move it. He guided you two out of the bar and into the cool, night air.

“Ghost—”

“—The hell was that?” Soap asked, rushing out of the bar after you two barely a few seconds later. The others came out after him, the same look of confusion written on their faces.

Ghost looked at you, noticing the look you were giving him that pleaded for him not to say anything. He sighed, but complied. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it,” he said, turning to the others.

“Didn’t look like nothing,” Alejandro poked.

“It was nothing.”

He furrowed his brows, obviously knowing something was wrong. They all knew something was wrong, but they didn’t push any further when Ghost thankfully shut them down.

“I’m gonna take her home,” you nodded along to what Ghost said. You weren’t sure why, honestly. But you trusted him. “I was gonna call it a night for myself anyway.”

With quick goodbyes and worried glances, you and Ghost left the bar. You made it a point to let them know that bar was now completely off limits for mission celebrations when you were in a cleaner headspace.

☆ — © saintlulls, 2023 - don’t repost, translate, or copy.

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 📁 ꒰ simon ghost riley ! ⊹˚. ♡ ꒱#this is kinda bad ??#look away if it is oml #i’m a smut writer ok this isn’t my strong suit #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x reader #cod #cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #saintlulls

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strawbsj · 29 days

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can i make a req for ive’s yujin x reader ? i’ll take anything as long as its g!p yujin please nd tysm <33

Pairings: Stepmom G!p Yujin x Stepdaughter Fem reader!!

Part one, part two

Warnings: virgin reader, mutual masturbation, cheating, wlw marriage, pervert Yujin, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your Willy), breeding, degrading, pantie stealing, tummy bulge, reader gets called slut, whore, kitten.., step mom stepdaughter relationship, Yujin is kinda mean, p in v, not proofread,reader bleeds, painful sex and just very filthy smut!!!

Word count:1,8k

Jwans Note: hope you enjoy this love! I’m sorry I posted this kinda late, I’ve been so busy lately and life’s been too much!😭

—————————————————————————

If you were honest, which was something you always wanted to be, you don’t really trust nor like your new stepmom, Yujin. She always seemed off to you, she always was nice and kind towards you but you knew something with the whole marriage of her and your mom had something off.

Till now she has been treating your mom well and you don’t want to ruin their marriage and your moms happiness by some strange feeling you have, beside you don’t even know if that’s what you really feel. Maybe it’s just some thoughts that your brain is just trying to give you.

But deep down you knew these are not just some thoughts…she always seemed strange with you. You felt so exposed and uncomfortable under her predator gaze. The atmosphere immediately turning cold and your skin getting goosebumps at the way her bottom lip was nibbled by her teeth when you walked past her in the kitchen.

You confirmed yourself that those are not just thoughts when you saw her, digging all of the clothes that were in your hamper and when she found what she wanted, a pink pair of your panties with a ribbon. She took a deeep and loong sniff, that left her intoxicated. She smirked at herself and stuffed it in her pocket.

All of that and you were peeking your head from the small gap that was in your door. Something in you snapped and you barged into your room.

She flinched a little before her dirty smirk was on her face again. “What were you doing?” You hoped that you sounded intimidating or at least firm but the look on her face always made your knees weak and head spin.

“I was going to do your laundry, kitten” Her smug expression got replaced with a smile. Ugh, the pet name that left your skin alarmed. You don’t think that a normal stepmom stepdaughter relationship included the mom to call her stepdaughter kitten.

“What were you doing here?” She continued, acting like this is not your room in the first place.

“This is my room” you hoped that this conversation would end as soon as possible before you’d end up in your bed in your signature shrimp position that you always did when you felt uncomfortable tension. She gave a laugh before coming near you and patting your shoulder “Right!” And with that she left you here all alone with the mess of your dirty clothes.

You obviously can’t tell your mom, first she won’t believe what you are saying about your stepmom and second she’d think you want to take her happiness away from her and ruin the marriage that she’d been dreaming of. So Nuh uh!!

Hearing what your mom just said, you wanted to just go on your knees and beg her not to go. She has this urgent work trip that she would be spending the rest of the month on and you’d be here all alone….with your stepmom…Yujin.

When your mom was bidding you goodbyes you just stood there awkwardly. Your mom gave you a kiss on the cheek before she went on her tip toes to kiss her wife, on the lips. You just looked away, not wanting to see the awkward scene.

“Goodbye girls, have fun!” Your mom flashed her warm motherly smile, that never failed to make your heart fill with comfort. You suddenly felt a pair of arms wrapped around your neck and chest are from the side, it was Yujin. “Oh don’t worry we will!” The smug expression was again on her face, and you just stood there looking at your mom with puppy eyes, silently begging her to just cancel the trip. But no! Your mom said her last goodbye before walking out, and here you are alone with the devil.

The days were strangely going somewhat ok. It was just you rotting in bed all day, going out to grab something to eat here and there, sometimes spending some time with your friends outside or just simply doing skincare and relaxing.

“Y/n, I have a day off today, want to spend it together?” She asked, The smirk that was naturally carved into her face never leaving.

“Sure!” What did you just say? Your tongue said something before letting your brain actually process it. “Do you want to watch a movie?” The smirk carved into her face now even wider.

“S-sure!” You, as a people pleaser of course agreed, never wanting to let someone down even if that means watching a movie with someone you don’t like. And it’s just a movie nothing special will happen, you will just watch the movie silently and head back to your room…right?

Welll….No! You won’t just watch the movie and head back to your room…Yujin was sitting on the other side of the couch while you were cuddled on the other side, silently. But throughout the movie she slowly started coming closer and closer to your side, you shook it off, not thinking much about it. Until a cold hand was on your bare thigh, on your warm skin. You let out a yelp before, your reflexes slapped her hand away.

The inner side of her cheek was between her teeth, while her jaw was clenched, not pleased by your previous act. She looked straight in front of her at the movie and her eyes were burning with fire and anger.

Oh god how much you wanted to bury yourself now six feet under. The devil wanted to be extra evil now and the movie just flashed a hot steamy sex scene, like can this get worse? It wasn’t even censored, basically just straight porn.

And how much you hated yourself for getting aroused, your mind and body reacted differently. And now you couldn’t help yourself but to gulp at the sight in front of you, sinful moans from the actor while he fucked that woman’s brain out.

Your juices were like a pool in your panties and Yujin noticed. The next time her hand found its way to your burning thigh, you didn’t yank her hand away, in fact you moaned at that simple contact.

“Such a dirty whore, moaning at this” She let out an evil chuckle before rubbing your thighs. You let out another whiny moan before you grabbed her hand and guided it to your drenched core.

“You acted like a hard to get and look at you now, begging to be touched like the slut you are.” Her finger pads started toying with your sensitive bud, the sweetest high pitched moans left your lips.

You can’t lie, Yujin is way too good looking and you can’t lie, you’ve always imagined how good Yujin can fuck with her massive cock. You imagined how good and deep it would be buried in you, how easily she can split you in two and probably ruin your fucking cervix with one single thrust.

“Bet it’s easy to get you to cum!” She let out another chuckle before pinching your swollen pearl. A cry fell from your lips and you started grinding against her fingers, begging to feel more.

And suddenly all of that was gone. Her touch left your desperate body. She slid her pants along with her boxers down and pulled her shirt over her head and threw it somewhere in the apartment.

Her massive cock sprung out and it left your mouth watered, licking your lips. Your imagination was doing her cock so wrong, it looked better now that you see it, better than you have ever imagined. Girthy and the perfect amount of veins filling it. Her mushroom tip angry red with white substance painting.

Your hand had traveled down to your shorts rubbing your clit in desperation, while your other hands fingers started pumping in and out of your wet hole. She sat next to you before her palm started thrusting against her cock.

Your eyes were threatening to close in pleasure but you didn’t want to miss the sight in front of you.

“Spit on my cock!” The demand made you stop in your tracks, studying her expressions and you realized that she was dead serious.

Your head went closer to her cock before your warm saliva flew to her base, and she immediately started pumping it. Husky groans falling from her lips while you went back into stuffing your fingers into your now red pussy.

She grabbed your wrist and made you lay on the couch, before her cock was making its way to your hole.

“Are you a virgin?” She looked at you,brows raised, her bottom lip between her teeth. You forgot to tell her that she was actually the first one to put a dick in you.

You looked at her nodding your head and a low breathy ‘fuck’ came out from her vocal cords.

“You love the idea of your stepmom fucking you dumb, right?” She started rubbing your cheek, a fake pout formed on her face while her tip was rubbing your slit roughly.

And without warning she split you with the head of her cock, a scream escaped your lips and you held onto her shoulder for dear life.

“Y-Yujin” your eyes were shut tightly while you tried to bear the pain that came with her cock, blood dripped down to her balls. She looked at it, never knowing fucking her virgin stepdaughter would be this hot.

Her hips rutted against yours, her fat cock filled you up to the complete brim, her balls slapping against your ass with every pound. With every thrust it felt like she was rearranging your insides, you felt her in your stomach, and when you touched your lower abdomen, you felt the bump.

She put her other hand on top of yours. “You feel me baby? I’m right here!”

The squeeze of your gummy walls was enough to make her feel her climax. She gripped your waist harshly before fucking you onto her dick, your lower region meeting roughly. The way your boobs jiggled with every animalistic thrust she took was sending making her orgasm approach quicker. She obviously can’t cum before you so her hand found your clit and started rubbing its so sweetly but the pressure was enough to make your release splash out of you.

That was so fucking hot and thick ropes of cum shoot straight to your womb.

“Imagine your mom walking in on us! You’d like it, won’t you?” She gave one of her signature smug face, before pulling out. The way your cunt lips were spilling her cum and was now covering your thighs was enough to make her hard again, but she should control herself!

She grabbed a towel and cleaned you up, peppering every mark she left on your delicate skin with kisses before applying oil on it. She tucked you in bed, your naked back against her chest, and her nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent!

#ahn yujin smut #yujin smut #ive x fem reader #ive smut #Ive Yujin smut #ahn yujin x reader #ahn yujin x fem reader #ive yujin #ive x reader #ive #ahn yujin #yujin

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foldingfittedsheets · 2 months

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My mom has this awful friend, Cynthia. My loathing goes deep enough that I’m not even going to change her name. If she ever finds this she knows what she did.

On multiple occasions my mom asked this horrible irresponsible chicken brained woman to watch after our animals while we were away. I don’t know why once wasn’t enough, because the first failure was so spectacular that anyone in their right mind would know she couldn’t be trusted with any level of responsibility or direction following.

You might be thinking to yourself, FFS, this level of antipathy is surely unwarranted! But you’d be wrong.

To set the scene, we were living in downstairs of our house when I was about fifteen. My mom has always wanted more animals than can reasonably be kept indoors which is how we ended up with three cats. When she wanted to kick them all outside I protested, and so all three cats lived in my bedroom with no access to the rest of the house.

That really wasn’t great, so in an attempt to give them options we made a window cutout with a cat door in it to give them access to the outdoors. Looking back on this as an environmentally conscious adult it’s wretched, cats should be indoor only, but at the time I was desperate to give them some freedom because one bedroom is too small for three cats.

So my parents and I went on a week long trip to visit family out of state. We told Cynthia to come feed and water the cats, and to scoop the litter box. Most importantly, don’t lock the handle of the door, because we only have the key to the deadbolt.

I’m sure you can see where this is going.

Cynthia locked us out. We arrived home after 12 hours on the road, desperate for the comfort of our own beds. We were met with an unyielding door. With a sigh I volunteered, “I can punch in the cat door and climb in the window.”

I slipped behind the bamboo outside my window and pushed in the cutout. A horrible insidious reek wafted out at me. I paused, prickling with foreboding. But I had a job to do, and by god I’d see it through. I hefted myself up into the window and my hand immediately landed in something wet.

Skin crawling, I pulled myself up and surveyed the darkened room as a miserable odor of decay and suffering poured out of the room around me. I could see dark shapes littering the carpet and it didn’t take a genius to guess that the cats had taken up hunting in a big way during my absence.

I pulled my hand out of the pile of vomit it had landed in and dropped into my onetime bedroom turned now into a hellpit of decomposing wretchedness. I turned on the light. I wished I had not turned on the light.

My eyes scanned across the floor, tallying as they went. Two dead birds, a dead baby rabbit, five dead mice, and one dead snake. I paused on my alarm clock, perplexed to see a stain of white on it. I stepped closer and saw a furtive movement.

The tally suddenly contained also: one live bird that had shit in several places, probably in pure terror to find itself trapped in a room littered with decomposing woodland creatures, which honestly, fair. I coaxed it out the window and finished the survey with five discrete piles of vomit.

I unlocked the door and let my parents in. They exclaimed in disgust at the horrible smell. We stood together in my doorway floored by the magnitude of neglect. The unscooped litter box was a subtle footnote in the tangible reek my living space. I disposed of the parade of ecological disaster, cleaned vomit, and scooped the box after a brutally long day on the road. The cats were fine, and happy to see me. They had a huge dish or food and water so Cynthia’s neglect at least hadn’t harmed them.

Then I slept on the couch while my bedroom aired out, the windows flung wide to dispel the uneasy ghosts of the hunted. I spent the whole night cursing Cynthia’s name for this evil she’d visited upon me. When my mom asked her, "Cynthia, didn't you see the dead animals?"

Cynthia responded, "Yes, they smelled so bad, I just ran in and out as fast as I could." I fully don't believe she did any caretaking, and I'm personally of the opinion that she locked herself out on the first day and never came back.

The next day my room had returned to a habitable level of smellscape and I gratefully crawled into my bed that night. I stretched out and froze as my foot brushed something cold and wet?

The final indignity: one last dead snake, inside my very sheets.

Fucking Cynthia.

#ramblies #story #ffs foibles #keep your cats inside #but also looking back like why didn't I change my sheets #I did not have good bed hygiene instilled in me from my parents #later that lady would go on to leave a huge metal dish of dog food in the middle of the yard #despite the fact that we told her over and over not to feed the dog because he was on a diet #and I knew not to trust her so my friend was coming twice a day to feed him his portioned out meals #he gained like ten pounds in the week we were gone eating rained on mushy dog food #that fucking woman was a menace

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randomshyperson · 1 year

Text

Mess is Mine - Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Being divorced from Wanda Maximoff implies never getting over her.

Warnings: (+18), language, brief smut, divorced ladies who are very still much in love with each other, unspecified age gap, marriage going wrong, hopeful ending, mild angst, fluff.| Words: 3.949k.

A/N-> There's this divorced couple in a Brazilian soap opera with so much chemistry in their scenes together because of the intimacy gained during marriage (even though that didn't work out) and they won't leave my tik tok ; at some point, my brain thought about this fic. I would love to write more of this trope in the future.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

--//--

Wanda had a persistent migraine, and the pile of work in front of her was not helping.

Still, all her stubborn brain could focus on instead of her real job was the stupid headline of the gossip magazine on her desk.

A cheap and badly angled photo of her ex-wife with colorful captions that read 'The newest business killer couple?" and dozens more insinuations about a secret high-society romance made her stomach churn.

Wanda tried not to be affected by the gossip, but you looked so happy in the photo that she couldn't help it.

The sudden opening of her door made Wanda jump in her seat, in one quick pull close the magazine and sigh with relief when she saw it was only Natasha.

"Why are you here?" Her long-time friend and co-worker asked. Wanda frowned in confusion.

"It's still my company..."

Nat rolled her eyes, walking into the office and taking long strides to her desk. "I meant in here, smarty-pants. The event is starting in an hour, the staff wanted some words of encouragement or something."

Wanda sighed wearily, massaging her forehead with one hand. "Can't you do that for me, Nat? I gotta make some calls."

Nat hummed in agreement, but her gaze caught the closed magazine on the table and she raised a brow at her friend. "One of those calls includes your ex-wife, I suppose."

Wanda chuckled dryly, taking the magazine out to one of the drawers and adjusting herself to reach the desk phone. "There's nothing else for me to say to her."

Her friend hid a smile that said that she didn't believe this one bit. "Okay, whatever you say. See you later, boss."

Wanda waved goodbye, with the phone to her ear. Her immediate instinct was to dial known numbers but she shook her head to push that ridiculous idea away and went back to work.

Several hours after the peak of the event when the company was filled with guests, from potential clients to journalists looking for any news like vultures at the carrion, Wanda was at her second glass of champagne, trying to keep the rest of her patience intact after having answered so many questions for gossip magazines regarding the headline from earlier in the day.

She absolutely did not want to discuss a possible romance between her ex-wife and the heiress of Bishop Industries.

Years before, any of them would have been afraid to question her about something so ridiculous, but that was before you came along. And melted your way into the Business Ice Queen, the untouchable Wanda Maximoff, or whatever insensitive nickname they invented about her back then. Before breaking down all of Wanda's walls, making her a better person, and of course, before you left her.

It was definitely the alcohol's fault that she was thinking about this, and with these stupid tears welling up in her eyes. Wanda swallowed all the emotion, burying it deep and making sure that no one had noticed her broken expression. With an excuse to a group of investors who were boring her into a corner, she retreated to an area far away from the company's outdoor gardens, taking a deep breath to calm herself. The beautiful view of the state lake was most welcome.

So of course the reason for her almost minor breakdown had to show up wearing her favorite suit.

"Are you running away from your guests, Maximoff?" Your tone was casual, the smile provocative. She snorted to herself, crossing her arms and keeping her eyes on the lake. You didn't mind, walking over to her at a slow pace until you were beside her on the edge.

"I just needed some air." She merely replies. With one hand in your pockets, you adjust your own hair, and Wanda hates that she can smell the shampoo, her body betraying her and shuddering as if your scent were addictive.

"You're avoiding me today." You comment lightheartedly, studying her face. "I arrived an hour ago and it took me almost all this time to find you."

Wanda forced a smile, finally facing you back, but her angry look made you hesitate. "I thought your chaperone was keeping you busy."

You glanced back at the party, stealing a quick check on Kate at the food stand, chatting with a blonde girl, before turning your attention back to Wanda.

"I forgot how hot you get when you're jealous."

Wanda huffs away, her cheeks burning which she tries to hide by staring at the lake. "Don't even start." She warns between teeth.

You chuckle, rolling your eyes, but don't insist. You turn your attention to the lake as well. "I wanted to let you know that the boys have already arrived in King Cross. I spoke to them and Charles on the phone."

"I know, Pietro texted me." She retorts more harshly than she meant to and bites the inside of her cheek as she sees you lower your head in upset. With a sigh, she mumbles, "I meant, thanks for letting me know."

You smile, nodding before turning your gaze back to the party. "What do you think of Miss Bishop?"

Wanda locks her jaw; How dare you honestly. A list of curses lays ready on the tip of her tongue, but she remembers where you two are, and takes a deep breath. You were clearly trying for some kind of reaction from her, and she's not going to let you have this victory today.

"She's beautiful." Wanda replies. "As young as you were when I met you."

You chuckle shortly, raising an eyebrow at her. "What are you implying, Maximoff?"

Wanda shrugs her shoulders softly, turning to leave. "You're quite clever, Y/N, I'm sure you follow." She hits back, but you step forward into her path. You are suddenly too close, and Wanda finds herself holding her breath. She needs to take a step back to avoid stopping breathing for good.

Your eyes stare into theirs. "Not that this is any of your business, darling, but my relationship with Kate is strictly professional."

You assure her in a low tone, and Wanda swallows hard as your gaze moves down to her lips for a long moment before focusing on her eyes again. A smile forms on your mouth next. "Besides this, I've always had a thing for older women."

Wanda sighs heavily, using all her mental control to pull away at once. "Go pay attention to your chaperone, Y/N. Especially if she's a potential client."

You roll your eyes at the business tip; you already know them by heart, the vast majority learned from Wanda. And your ex-wife makes mention of leaving, so you slide your hand down her forearm gently, taking some amusement in seeing the way she shivers.

"I wanted to talk to you about something, Wanda." You let her know, with a serious tone but a tender look. The redhead swallows dryly at the closeness of your faces now that you're standing side by side, your hands connected. "Later, after the party, okay?"

"I-I..."

"It's important." You assure her, knowing her hesitation is so as not to break your agreement about relapses. With a gentle expression, you insist, "Please, it won't take more than five minutes."

She licks her lips, and you almost kiss her. Lucky for her she agrees and walks away because God knows you would have done it, right there in that garden for all the New York reporters to have a week's news about.

Without Wanda's perfume around you, you take a deep breath and try to clear your mind, having to wait a few more minutes in the garden for your heart to stop beating so fast.

As the event nears its end and Wanda needs to give a closing speech, you say goodbye to Kate before the parking area. You ignore all the journalists who try to insinuate something about you having taken the girl to the car and exchange a glance with Wanda in the small crowd before moving toward the elevator.

Wanda has always known you so well, and with a nod, she knows exactly where she has to go.

Her work floor is completely deserted as she makes her way to her own office. But she still closes the door as she enters, letting out a tired laugh at your figure sitting on her armchair.

Her smile fades when she sees what you are reading.

"Headlines nowadays are getting creative..." You wryly chuckle, laughing at your ex-wife's caught expression. "It says here that I might have an eye to the Bishop's fortune. How silly, you gave me almost half of yours in the divorce, why would I need more money?"

"Very funny." Wanda dryly retorts, reaching up to snatch the magazine from your hands with a tug, and raking the item into the trash afterward. She crosses her arms as she looks at you. "What did you want to tell me?"

You flashed a small, sideways smile. "You used to be more polite when you wanted to sleep with me. At least offer me a drink."

Wanda chuckled dryly, rolling her eyes and begrudgingly moving to the personal bar in the corner of the room. If she leaned over more than necessary to grab one of the whiskey bottles, aware that the position in the chair gave you a full view of her ass, neither of you said anything about it. She hid her satisfied smile as she heard your breath hitch at the image, and you hid your own reaction as you cleared your throat and looked away.

Shortly thereafter, two shots of whiskey were served on the glass table in front of you. But before the toast, you declared:

"I'm leaving."

Wanda frowned, and when you made mention of taking the glass, she placed her hand on your forearm. "Speak."

You chuckled, staring her in the eyes. "I closed a contract with the Ten Rings folks. They want me in Korea for the next four months."

Wanda lets go of your arm as if she had been burned and steps away from the table with an indecipherable, but very disturbed expression.

"B-but the boys.." She tries to formulate, but you rise from the armchair with a sigh.

"They'll be at school." You retort, even though firm, your gaze is almost pleading. For what, Wanda doesn't have the heart to wonder. "It's not as if they stay with us all the time, Wands. The boarding school takes up this time quite well. It will only be four months, and they've already invented the telephone and internet, you know?" You try to joke, but Wanda hugs her own body and faces you.

"Why are you here, then? You've traveled before."

"Not for that long." You say, taking steps toward her, and mentally thanking heavens that she doesn't pull away. "And not... not since we made the divorce official."

"Y/N..."

"I know, I know." You murmur with a sad smile, raising your hands to her arms uncovered by her dress. "Maybe it's stupid, but I wanted to make sure we're okay. That it won't be something...I don't know, that hurts us."

"More than a divorce? I find that difficult." She replies with restrained emotion in her husky voice. You sigh.

"Wanda..."

"No, you're right. It was stupid." She cuts off, pulling away so you don't see the tears welling up in her eyes. "Of course it's okay. But I appreciate that you respect the concept of shared custody. I imagine the kids already know?"

"Yes, I told them before I took them to the airport." You mutter upset, watching Wanda walk away to the window. "But Wands, I wanted to tell you in person..."

"And why is that, huh?" she retorts with an impatience that makes you flinch. And for this, Wanda loses it for good. "You know, I don't understand you! You left me! You filed for divorce, you wanted to break us up. But you keep showing up here, and at home, and everywhere, and now you want to come here and say you care-"

"I care, Wa-"

"Then why did you leave me?" she shouts back, almost regretting it when she sees the tears in your eyes. You laugh tearfully, shaking your head.

"We've had this conversation dozens of times, Wan." You say, much calmer than she is. "But you just can't accept that you're wrong, can you?"

"Right, I forgot that I'm the villain in your story." She sneers, wiping her face with the back of her hand. You give another sad laugh.

"I wish it were that simple, darling." You tell her, taking slow steps toward her. "If you were just the villain, the bad wife, the evil boss, everything would be easier. I could hate you, curse your names to all my friends, and spend all the divorce money on expensive, empty things out there, but it's not like that. You forget the part that I love you and tried to fight for us until the last second."

Wanda sobs quietly, looking down at the floor, "Don't do that, Y/N."

"But it's true, baby, you know. I'm not the one who broke any promises, Wands. I just got tired of begging for crumbs of attention from the person who swore to spend the rest of her days with me."

Wanda lifts her chin, and the determination in her gaze doesn't do justice to the tears. "You knew how much my career meant when you said yes."

You smile sadly, taking one last step to get close enough to hold her face. Wanda shudders as you wipe away her tears, as you have done so many times before, as if no time has passed and everything was fine.

"I am so proud of you, Wands, for all you have accomplished with your work. I only wish I had been as important as this building."

You place a long kiss on her forehead, pulling away afterward. You offer her one last sad smile before closing the door on your way out. Wanda starts to cry as soon as you have done so, even though she tries very hard to keep her tears away.

–//–

You burned a pancake to answer the door, but all the irritation over the ruined dish vanished when you saw Wanda standing in front of you.

It had only been a few days since you had last seen her, and now all the furniture in your apartment was already packed away and covered with rags, prepared for the time you would be away. Wanda's party dress gave way to a casual suit that made you swallow dryly and become self-conscious of the sweatpants and sports top you were wearing. Wanda wouldn't have picked anything better.

"Are you going to let me in, detka?" Wanda asked with some teasing for your moment of shock. You immediately recovered, making room for her to enter and closing the door once she was in the hall. "Sorry for disturbing your breakfast. I wanted to see you before your flight."

"Oh, don't worry about it. And I'm not going until the afternoon." You clarified somewhat clumsily by her presence, one hand still holding a spatula and the other adjusting your hair. "I made pancakes if you'd like..."

"I would love it." Wanda assured with a smile that made your stomach twist. It wasn't fair that your ex-wife got more beautiful every time you looked at her, honestly.

Wanda followed you back into the kitchen, and to both your surprise, you fell into a light conversation about work and the boys while preparing and serving food, completely different from the tone of the conversation the last time you had seen each other.

But it was a time bomb, of course, so you weren't surprised when Wanda suddenly bit her lip, assuming a more tense posture.

Finishing chewing your pancakes, you asked:

"Why are you here, sweetheart?"

Wanda raised her eyes to you, and you stared back at her, patiently for her to clarify.

"I wanted to say goodbye to you properly." She said, spinning her own stool around first before tipping her hands around yours to spin you toward her. You raise a brow in curiosity, but the question of what she was doing dies in your throat as she leans in and brings your lips together.

It has been exactly three months, eighteen days, and sixteen hours since you last kissed Wanda, and you only realize how much you missed the feeling when she does it again. It's as intoxicating as it is overwhelming, and you gasp into her lips, breaking the kiss at once as you stand up, taking good steps away from the countertop.

"Wanda, we talked about this." You remind her in a husky voice, pressing a hand over your face. It's ridiculous how much your skin is burning and your heart is racing for something that lasted less than three seconds. "No relapses. You promised-"

"It's not a relapse." She assured, reaching up and grabbing your hands to place them around her waist. You grunted at the sensation, closing your eyes as Wanda slipped hers over your shoulders, too close for you to think about anything other than her. "It's a parting gift. So you'll have a reason to come back."

"W-what...?"

Wanda presses closer and brings her mouth to your ear. "Just stop overthinking it and accept the gift, detka."

With encouragement, she bites the lobe of your ear, and you give up resisting.

With a tug on her waist, you bring your mouths together in a kiss much hungrier and more passionate than the first, which elicits loud, almost primal moans of need from both of you. Wanda pushes and pulls, and by the time you stumble to the back of the living room couch, your pants are already open and there's nothing covering your torso; much like the woman in front of you, who as soon as she throws you sitting up against the cushions, your breathing out of rhythm and your lips swollen from kissing hard, makes a show of removing the rest of her clothes.

She has time to smile mischievously at your look of pure adoration at her completely naked body in front of you before you pull her onto your lap by her thighs. Wanda climbs on you with a needy grunt, burning from the inside out in anticipation for you to touch her again.

Your touches are almost desperate, your kisses mark her skin. It is your gift, but you also seem determined to make sure that Wanda has the memory of this morning for quite some time.

When your mouth closes around her nipples, she whimpers to the ceiling, arching her back and steadying her hands in your hair, a soft plea that you not stop.

"Yes, baby, just like that." She encourages over the stimulation on her nipples, breaking into an excited whimper when you simply use your free hand to masturbate her. At any other time, you would have taken your time to work her up until she was begging for your touch, but now, in the urgency you two were sharing, it wasn't necessary. She was ready for you.

Your fingers penetrate her without delay, and Wanda digs her nails into your shoulder, breaking into a breathless moan. You give one last hickey on her hardened nipple before you move your face back up to hers, kissing her with intensity as your fingers dance inside her walls with the mastery of one who has done this a dozen times, one who knows her like the palm of the hand she so deliberately grinds against in the intention of relieving herself.

"G-god, detka! Right here!" She breaks the kiss into an affected moan, practically meowing as you repeatedly hit that sensitive spot inside her. The wetness grows in your palm, Wanda oozes into you, and to help her, you bring your free hand to her hip, coordinating her movements as she begins to fail. "I-I'm going to..."

"Don't talk, show." You interrupt her with a proud little smile, moving your mouth down to bite the sensitive spots on her neck. "Come to me, baby, I've got you."

That's all she needs to reach the first climax of the morning, and she is not surprised that you don't stop at the first. Or the second, or the third.

You are on your knees on the living room floor when your first alarm goes off. Breathing as out of breath as Wanda, on the couch with her torso exposed and her legs spread from which you against your will need to remove your face to turn off the alarm when you pull away.

She covers herself when you disappear to the kitchen because she knows it's because of the flight, and when you return, the cell phone goes on the coffee table and you sit on the floor next to her on the couch.

There is a long silent pause, where only your breaths can be heard. Wanda skirts a hickey on her own thigh and you sigh.

"We shouldn't have..." But you can't complete, it because your voice fails you as if you are going to start crying. You look away, and Wanda lets herself fall to your side on the floor, where she reaches for your hand.

"Detka, look at me." She asks, and you have to wait a moment until you sniffle and do so with difficulty.

"I told you it hurts me, Wands. I can't-" You take a deep breath. "I can't heal if this keeps happening. There’s no getting over you if we keep doing this”

She shakes her head. "I don't want you to get over me." She says and you huff, trying to pull her hand away, but Wanda squeezes. "I love you, you know I do."

"Love is not enough." You retort bitterly, your eyes filled with tears. "Loving me doesn't mean you won't hurt me. Nor that you won't ignore me. Those are just words, Wanda. I haven't felt loved by you in a long time."

She releases your hand from the shock of your words, and watches you create a physical distance between you as you walk away. You slip away to the bedroom, muttering that you need to get ready for the flight, and she tries to make a decision the whole time you are in the shower.

When you return to the room, wearing a set of travel clothes, Wanda is wearing your sweatpants and her own dress shirt. Your chest aches to see her wearing your clothes again.

"Wanda, you'd better go, my flight-"

"I love you, detka." She cuts you off with eyes bright with determination as she stares at you. You swallow dry, but can't resist when Wanda reaches up to touch your face. "I will make sure you know it. You'll know it so deeply that you'll be able to feel it in your bones. And you'll never doubt it again."

You sniffle lightly. "Wanda..."

"Don't worry about it now, detka." She interrupts you more gently, caressing your face. "Have a great trip. I'll be here when you come back home."

You sigh, and Wanda doesn't let you say anything more, kissing you in a calmer, but somehow much more intense way than before.

She leaves the apartment before you, with a wink and a request that you call the boys before and after the flight.

And even before she gets to the first floor, Wanda has already texted Natasha about her early retirement procedure after her well-deserved family vacation.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff oneshots #marvel imagines

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whereonceiwasfire · 4 months

Note

If you're game to write a cheese melt (Vlad & Dani father-daughter dynamic) ficlet, I'd love to read one. If not, that's cool :)

*vibrating with excitement* My friend. Your cheese melt art has been living rent free in my head for WEEKS. It's my sincerest pleasure to write a ficlet for this. I hope it's okay that it's an outsider POV, I just had an idea and my brain went brrrrrrr LOL

May I offer you a dysfunctional parent-teacher interview?

Parent-teacher interviews are always a nightmare, but there's one in particular that’s making Amity Middle School’s beloved Ms. Burnell sweat through her shirt. As the time slot nears, her gaze keeps flickering to the clock, her classroom door, back to her nervously interlaced fingers on the desktop.

It’s going to be fine. Perfectly fine.

“This one! Over here! Dad! This is my class!” The excited words, shouted in the syrupy sweet voice of a little girl, sets every nerve on edge, Ms. Burnell’s heart plummeting straight into the pit of her stomach.

Oh lord. Maybe it’s not going to be fine.

Her student comes bounding into the classroom, eyes bright and excited, oversized blue sweater sleeves slipping over her hands, even as she gestures emphatically for her father to follow. Black hair spills out of her ponytail, whipping across her face as she throws herself into a desk across from Ms. Burnell’s with a bright smile.

Her father, on the other hand…

The heel of his expensive Italian loafers strike against the linoleum as the man stops at the threshold of the classroom, cool gaze doing an assessing sweep of the space, expression crinkling in distaste as it does. He doesn’t say a single word, doesn’t make any move to actually step inside the classroom.

Ms. Burnell is the one who clears her throat, pushing to an awkward stand as she extends a hand out to the man.

“Hello, Mr. Masters. Thank you for making the time to come discuss your daughter’s education. I know you’re very busy.”

The man’s eyes slip to her outstretched palm, and for a motifying second, she doesn’t think he’s going to take it. When he finally does, he just gives a brief, cursory shake before swiping his palm off on his suit jacket and striding past her toward his daughter.

Ms. Burnell’s face is all kinds of warm, chest tight with embarassment as she fumbles back to her desk, trying to wrestle herself back into some kind of composure. Still, she barely looks up as she pulls out a folder with Danielle Masters scrawled across the tab.

“Dad! Dad! That one’s mine! Do you see it? Do you like it?” Danielle calls proudly, tugging on her father’s suit sleeve and pointing toward the paintings that are spread out beneath the windows to dry, paper wavy and crinkled.

“Oh, er. That’s actually a good place for us to start,” Ms. Burnell cuts in apologetically.

Mr. Masters gaze snaps from where he’d been examining his daughter’s project, over to her, brows dropped low.

“Why? Is there a problem with my daughter’s work?” The question is sharp, accusatory, and she’s pretty sure her soul shrivels up a little bit at the unguarded disdain in the man’s eyes.

Swallowing hard, sweat beading against the back of her neck, Ms. Burnell resists the urge to immediately take it back. Surely he can see the problem with the piece—isn’t going to make her say it?

It's too scary.

When his challenging gaze doesn’t waver, she forces the words out.

“Uhm. Well. It’s just. Not quite. Appropriate for a sixth grade class?” It pitches up into a question as she gestures vaguely toward Dani’s painting.

It’s a bit sloppy, the layers of paint caked upon each other, the lines hasty and uneven, but the scene itself is clear enough—a little, smiling, white-haired girl in the shadow of some kind of hulking creature, its skin blue, eyes red, sharp fangs bared as its cape flares out to take up the rest of the page.

Ms. Burnell almost set up an appointment for Danielle with the school counselor when she saw it, wondering if Dani felt like she was the little girl, trapped amongst nightmares and “monsters.” She decided against it for the time being, until she could speak with the girl’s father, but that’s proving rather unhelpful so far if the contemptuous way the man is looking at her is any indication.

“Did Danielle complete the assignment?” he asks finally.

“Uhm. Yes.”

“And adhere to the grading criteria?”

“Sh-she did,” Ms. Burnell answers reluctantly.

“Then I don’t see the problem,” he answers, finality in the words as his gaze turns to his daughter. He takes a much softer tone with her, brushing the disorderly strands of hair off her face, an absent domesticity in the way he straightens the ponytail gone lopsided. “I think you did a lovely job, dear.”

“Thank you! I used Alizarin Crimson,” she answers proudly, hair flopping right back into her eyes.

“Excellent choice.”

“Uhm. Well, there’s also the matter of Danielle’s conduct,” Ms. Burnell cuts in.

The man lets out an irritated sigh, arms crossing over his chest as he leans back against one of the desks, one ankle crossed over the other, unimpressed gaze finding Ms. Burnell once more.

“What?” he says, like it’s an inconvenience.

She swallows hard. “She’s been…uhm. Not getting along with some of the other girls.”

“That is so unfair, Mackenzie started it!” Danielle shouts abruptly, popping up to her knees on her chair, palms slapping down against the desktop.

“Well that’s not what Mack—”

The girl keeps going, cutting Ms. Burnell off.

“She said the only reason Eli agreed to play with me at recess was because Joshua dared him too, and I said nuh unh and she said yuh hunh, and I asked how she knew that, and she couldn’t even prove it, it was so obvious she was making it up!”

“Mackenzie told me that you said some pretty unkind words to her, Danielle.”

“Barely! I just said it was a bad look for her to be so jealous of me and just because she looks like she fished her outfit from the same trash bin she got her personality from isn’t any reason to be a jerk.”

Her father’s expression twists into a sharp smirk, amusement lighting his blue eyes, and Ms. Burnell thinks she’s starting to get a better sense of why Danielle is proving to be one of the most challenging students in her class this year.

“We treat people with kindness and respect in this classroom, Dani. Do you think what you said to Mackenzie was kind and respectful?”

“Well…” Dani’s gaze drops, expression pinching in thought, and Ms. Burnell thinks she might actually be getting through to her.

“It doesn’t sound as though this other girl was treating Danielle with kindness and respect,” Mr. Masters answers, the words coming out with a mocking turn, like he finds the concepts incidental at best.

“That’s true. She did start it,” Dani reasserts, turning her gaze up to her dad.

“I’ve spoken to Mackenzie about her part in everything,” Ms. Burnell answers tightly. “But we’re here to talk about Danielle’s conduct. That’s not the only incident of its kind that’s occurred this year and—”

“You know, it sounds to me as though Danielle’s doing just fine,” Mr. Masters says, pushing up to a proper stand, tugging the bottom of his sleeves and smoothing the dark, wrinkleless fabric.

“But—”

“Did she make this girl cry?”

“Well. No, but—”

“And how are my daughter’s academics?” he asks, gaze fixed on hers, sending a chill creeping down her spine.

“Fine, but—”

“Has she gotten into a physical altercation with anyone?”

“Not exactly, but—”

“Started any fires?” he asks, sarcasm and derision dripping from the words.

“No, she hasn’t started any fires.”

“Then I believe this meeting is finished. Thank you for your time, Ms…”

“Burnell,” she answers weakly.

“Thank you for your time, Ms. Burnell. Danielle, are you ready to go?”

“Yup!” She pops up to an enthusiastic stand, rushing over to the windows to snatch up her painting, twisting it toward Ms. Burnell. “Can I take this home?”

She gives a heavy sigh, massaging her temples with her fingertips. “Sure, Dani. That's fine.”

“Thanks, Ms. B!” As the girl traipses after her dad, a bounce in her step, horrifying painting swinging at her side, Ms. Burnell can hear the girl still chattering away, even as they pass out of her classroom, voices growing distant. “Do you think I should have made Mackenzie cry?” she asks.

Ms. Burnell is glad she can’t hear the man’s response—she doesn’t even want to know his answer.

#dp ficlet #danny phantom ficlet #cheese melt #danielle phantom #vlad masters #outsider POV #thanks for the ask!#liliande-comics

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ddejavvu · 7 months

Note

oh my god i don't know if you are taking requests right now but i just saw a scene from al pacino's movie "the panic in the needle park" where there was a dialogue that goes "you know what you are?" "what am i?" "you are my girl". ahhh that's so cute! so i immediately thought of eddie. can you write a cute little something inspired by this dialogue? i love your eddie pieces.

i'm not gonna pretend to have seen the scene you're talking about so i have no idea how it was said/used but my brain went 'argument scene' so that's what i did here <3

"You're too impulsive, Eddie," You groan, pointedly looking away from his bleeding knuckles, "You can't just punch anyone who says something mean."

"I'm not impulsive." Eddie insists, and you play into dramatics to drop your jaw in a comically aghast expression, "I didn't punch him for shits and giggles, babe. He said something nasty about you."

"And you had the impulse to punch him. I'm not calling you unreasonable, I'm calling you impulsive. Because you are impulsive." You huff, arms crossed as you refuse to settle into the passenger's seat of Eddie's van. He's got the engine turned over, but you're stalling in the parking lot, one step away from taking the bus home from school instead.

Eddie's brow scrunches, "Yeah? Well, y'know what you are?"

Defensiveness places itself like a shield over your chest. Guarding your heart, it rears its ugly head, denting itself in preparation for words like nagging, ungrateful, god forbid bitchy to be thrown out.

"What?" You spit with sharp eyes.

"You're my girl." Eddie mutters, eyes narrowed with frustration, but not anger as he looks at you, "And I don't like it when people say mean shit about you. Okay? I just-" He glares sideways at his mirror for a split second, catching his own reflection in it, "Maybe I am impulsive. But it's- it's not an impulse to hurt people, okay? It's an impulse to protect you."

The defensive shield you'd thrown up melts with the surge of warmth that Eddie's statement brings to your heart. Falling away with it is weight you'd been carrying since the second your boyfriend's knuckles had connected with the sophomore's face, and you let it all escape in a sigh that drains your lungs.

You inhale, voice much softer now, "Eddie. I'm happy I'm your girl. Really, it's just- I don't need protecting. Or at least, not like that. You can protect me by saving me the headache I endure every time you knock someone's lights out over me."

You chance a glance at him, disarmed by his sentimental speech, and find his eyes similarly smooth to your voice. He reaches out with a cautious hand, the one that isn't red at the knuckles, and you don't hesitate to take it and hold onto it.

He cracks a sad smile, and you mirror the expression.

"I won't punch people anymore," He offers, his voice quiet, "Or- well. I'll try. You're right, I-" He drops his eyes to his lap, speaking softer than you'd have thought possible, "It's an impulse. But I'll work on it."

"Thank you," You gush, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand, "And thanks for wanting to protect me, Eddie."

"Anytime," He seems almost embarrassed to pledge it, and you let it slide because you're both still getting used to dating and what that means. "Uh, do you still wanna take the bus, or-?"

"If you still want to take me home, I'll stay.' You muse carefully, "Do you still want to take me home?"

"Yeah," His careful smile gives way to an easy grin, a slight relieved exhale whooshing from his nose, "Buckle up, babe. We can stop for fries on the way."

"I want a milkshake instead," You decide, reaching for your seatbelt, "Is that okay?"

"Good taste," Eddie nods, eyeing you in the rear-view mirror, "I'll dip my fries in, and we can use it to ice my knuckles."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one-shot #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson hc #eddie munson hcs #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson dialogue #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fanfiction

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wutheringmights · 24 days

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After I finished reading The Epic of Gilgamesh today, I entered a fugue state where I sat down and read the entirety of Alanna: The First Adventure by Tamora Pierce.

On the record, I have had a lifelong love and adoration for Pierce's Tortall books. I first read the Song of the Lioness quartet when I was 11, and they rewrote my brain. I love them so much. I reread them and the other Tortall books on a semi-frequent schedule.

It's been a while since I reread any of the Alanna books, if only because my sister took our shared copies when she moved out. I've been meaning to buy my own set for a long while now but haven't been able to justify the purchase. The other week, I just so happened to find the first two volumes at my local indie bookstore. I bought them immediately, as well as ordered the third and fourth book. (And discovered that the store owner knows me by name-- when I went to pick up my order, she saw me and said, Hi Frankie! I got your books over here.) (I may be spending too much money there.)

So I have been in a bit of an emotional rut these past few weeks. Work sucks. Life stinks. The temptation to run off to Tortall and curl up in the fantasy story that captivated me as a kid has never been stronger.

Ergo, I ran off to read the first book as soon as I could.

If you're looking for any critique of this book, series, or Tortall in general, I will never give it. Sure, it's problematic and dated, and in many ways imperfect, but someone else can list out all of its issues. They're all perfect to me.

Anyway, the book. I should say something about this book in particular.

One thing I appreciate about Pierce's writing is how she handles school settings in fantasy. Learning and training is so mundane. All of her heroines have to work hard and put in extra hours of study in order to improve, much less keep up with their peers. It's so normal that it circles around to being weirdly refreshing.

Also, there is still no other fantasy author who handles period talk and birth control the way Pierce does. We make fun of the trope of fantasy birth control nowadays, but I rarely see it presented as it is here: as a part of normal puberty lessons and given long before sex is in the girl's radar. And even today with the glut of YA fantasy stories out there, I still have yet to see menstruation be portrayed as frequently or as bluntly as Pierce writes it.

There was a period of time publishers really tried to push the Tortall books as straight YA, which doesn't work for that reason alone. You gotta market them to middle schoolers. They're the ones just starting puberty talks, and getting scenes like this is so good for their brains.

Moving on: I fucking love these characters. Alanna was an icon of brash, temperamental heroines that have shaped my taste to this day. I love how even in the first book, Jon is kinda shitty. I adore George Cooper. Talk about a taste maker the way this man sets a standard.

I just can't be coherent when it comes to any Tortall books. I have no thoughts. Head empty. I am going to binge the rest of this series as quickly as I can before my library book comes in. Then normal book content will resume.

Before I go, I need to talk about the book covers.

Growing up, my sister and I had these covers:

Which, god. I love them. The black is striking. The art is incredible. Alanna looks so good. They were the perfect pocket-size too. I was going to buy the same edition for my copies, but instead I got the 40th anniversary reprints:

Not bad at all! These books have had some seriously bad covers, and these look great! Very anime, which will appeal to the 11 year olds who need to have their socks rocked by this series.

But, man. I really miss those black covers. One day I will splurge and buy a second set of them just so that I can stare at the art.

#having a not normal time on tumblr dot come right now #alanna my beloved #if you were a deity i would worship you #me rambling #me reading #bookish #books and reading #books #bookblr #Alanna: the first adventure #the song of the lioness #tortall #tamora pierce

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loveyourownsmiilee · 3 months

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Ok my speculation for what I think those new photos are about and what may be in store for us in terms of Buddie.

I’m fully on the train that Eddie had his full on moment of realization in the graveyard when speaking to Buck. You can see the moment in his facial expression where something clicks and alters his brain chemistry. Especially considering he looks at Buck slightly a bit different after that moment. But it was the wrong time because Buck was speaking about Natalia and how happy he was bla bla. So of course that put a damper on Eddie’s newly realized feelings, hence the need to get out there and start dating again right after that whole thing. He literally went out and put himself out there to find someone and done it in a somewhat urgent matter. Almost as if he’s a man trying to get over someone quick. That’s why the moment he ran into someone he kinda knew, he wanted to take that risk and give it a shot, regardless of whether or not they had organic chemistry or not.

Now we know the season ended with Buck making things official with Natalia and Eddie starting something new with Marisol. So this new season should bring forth these two men in their respective relationships. However due to the actress who plays Natalia being in a play til mid March, something tells me it’s likely she’s not coming back. Which means a probable off screen break up. Now why do I think that’s more than likely?

Well look at this photo of Eddie and Buck (it doesn’t look like Bobby to me).

Eddie has never once touched anyone’s shoulder like that other than Buck’s (and also Christopher’s). Not only is the touch so natural and familiar to other scenes like that, but also his eyes are fully soft and you can actually see the hearts in them. Something tells me it’s a scene of Buck and Eddie in the locker room with a sad Buck who is upset over another failed relationship. The stance and the touch with the soft look that Eddie’s giving clearly shows he’s reassuring Buck of something. What else would he be reassuring him about other than the fact that he will find his person eventually. He’s probably giving him a pep talk and reassuring all of his doubts and you can tell it’s being done in such a lovely, soft manner that is so Eddie to his core.

Then the other photo with Buck and Christopher. Idk why but my immediate thought was that Buck is babysitting Chris while Eddie’s on a date with Marisol. Even though we ended the season with Christopher being supportive of his father asking her out, we all know how he didn’t take well to Eddie dating again the first time. Maybe he’s upset with the lack of family time or maybe it’s something else but Buck doesn’t look too happy about whatever they’re discussing either. Maybe both of them are sad about not spending enough time with Eddie and them as a family unit.

And the reason I have for that is because even in the little glimpse we saw of the trailer, we see Eddie once again looking exasperated and struggling with something while he’s talking to Buck. We’ve seen that same reaction from him when he was dating Ana. And Buck has his little fake passive aggressive smile like he’s trying to be supportive but he’s jealous over Eddie literally talking about another female. We’ve seen this happen many times especially last season.

Now all this to say that I don’t think Eddie and Marisol are going to last very long. I think Eddie’s going to realize it’s just not working with her because she’s not who he needs as a life partner. Simultaneously I see Buck finally working on himself and really sitting down to contemplate why all his relationships have failed thus far. I can actually see this season finally being one where Buck finally realizes the things he has been searching for a partner for years has always been in front of him. I think it’s the season for eye opening realizations for him and I really hope to see what it brings forth for both him and Eddie. I also hope this season brings them closer as a family unit than ever before.

#buddie #911 spoilers #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #911 speculation #god I’m sorry I had to get this out

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gretavanlace · 10 months

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Valtava

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, pain during sex (this is handled gently and lovingly) language, dirty talk, etc.

Everyone thank our dear @jake-kiszkas-smirk for the scene where his head is resting on her stomach. I’ll say no more to avoid spoiling it, but it’s delicious and it was her idea that she so kindly left in my hands. Thank you, you filthy genius, you. I love you madly. Also, I no longer remember who to credit for this pic of Josh, it’s been in my camera roll so long. But I couldn’t not use it for this…that’s dangerously close to sacrilege.

“This scene right here,” Josh speaks over Ray Liotta’s musings, one arm stretched across the back of his couch, the other bent to stroke his thumb along your jawline, absently “This is where Scorsese really stretches his wings. Here we are, watching the heinous discovery of murder after murder while Layla, a song about love and lust, lulls us. We feel both safe and shaky.”

His fingers now wind through your hair, relaxed and warm, with your head in his lap. “I think it serves as a reminder that even ugly can dip its toe into the waters of beautiful, if you squint hard enough.”

He pauses and talks over his own stream of thoughts, “Well, most ugly things, anyway. Someone saw these murders as a necessary evil. Something to ensure the world they had built for themselves, for their families, stayed clean. Someone went home and slept a little easier knowing there was one less heart beating out there ready to turn state's witness on them.”

You nod and hope for him to keep going. The way his mind works fascinates you, as does the unique lilt of his tone, and the excitement that sharpens his gaze when he is ruminating on something that really spins the wheel for the hamster in his brain.

Catering to your unspoken wish, he carries on, “And maybe even the victims were in on the method to the madness, y’know? They chose the life they chose, they understood how quickly loyalty and love can shape- shift into survival and self preservation. Layla helps the audience understand. It marries the beauty and the bloodshed for the people in the seats.” he shakes his head in wonder. “It’s fucking genius.”

“Thought your brother was the big Marty fan?” You ask, studying the perfect cupid's bow of his lips from below.

“Jake?” His eyes are on the screen, but his focus is on you. “Tarantino. I dig the use of his nickname, though. Marty. It makes it seem as if you have him over for dinner regularly.”

“Maybe I do.” You tease.

You earn a smile, but still not his gaze. “And what do you serve?”

Adopting a tone of nonchalance, you shrug, “Usually, we make love until dawn and then share cold spaghettiOs right out of the can.”

“Ah,” He nods seriously, “the opulence. It’s all very grand.”

A comfortable silence wraps itself around you both until you have a thought that pokes to be shared.

“Do you suppose Scorsese might have chosen Layla because of the double-edged sword it also happens to be as a piece? Since Clapton wrote it about his best friend's wife?” You feel a blush heat your cheeks, and immediately wish you hadn’t contributed. He knows so much about film and you know so little.

True to Joshua-form, however, he hushes your unease effortlessly. “Shit! I’d never even considered that. The beauty for Clapton was the ugly for Harrison. God, I’m so in love with the way your mind sees everything that’s invisible to mine.”

I’m so in love with…

He means the ideas in your head, the quiet corners of your thoughts, but it quickens your heart and nudges the butterflies in your stomach to life, nonetheless.

So, you pull yourself up, a thigh nestled on either side of his waist in the blink of a breath.

“Hi.” You long for the timid smile dancing shyly on your lips to morph into something sultry. Something sexy. Something that might flicker the darkened flame, that hides down deep in his belly, to life.”

“Hi.” He grins back, allowing you to wiggle around until you’re comfy in his lap. “If Goodfellas is boring you, I stand zero chance of keeping you entertained, baby love.”

Your fingers worry over the beads looped around his neck and then twist into the soft pink linen of his shirt, finally coming to rest at the button fastened nearest to his throat. Your eyes travel over him, hungry to soak him in. To tuck this image of Josh, so quietly content with you perched above him, away in your heart…a pretty picture to revisit when he inevitably becomes a memory.

What is he thinking? That question seems to occupy your mind more often than any other. He is an enigma. A mystery parading as wide open sunshine.

Intrusive thoughts, cruel and unrelenting, silently bully you. You’ve become quite adept at ignoring them over the years, opting for at least some semblance of normalcy in your quest for a happy, healthy life. Whatever that means.

But these thoughts in particular are cloaked in far too much truth…too many signs pointing to the worst being the obvious…to be easily disregarded.

You want to say these things to him. If only to bask in the assurance you might catch in his reply. But to risk the absence of said reassurance, is a feat too great.

Instead, you begin a tentative roll of your hips as you lean in close to meet his pillowy lips with your own. He tastes of mint, and the IPA he has been nursing, and Josh.

Like always, he indulges the kiss, but stills your hips, and you long to vanish into thin air, leaving nothing more than a coiling wisp of smoke in your wake. The rejection comes with a throbbing ache in your chest. Is your heart truly breaking? Now you’ll be forced to offer it to him in pieces.

And he isn’t the only one to indulge in old habits, because, also like always, you crawl into the safe embrace of humor. “You’re right, Joshua…you’re boring me. Back to the brilliant mind of Marty, my beloved.”

You slide off of him and stretch back out on the couch, focusing on the screen to hide your tear glossed eyes as he gets comfortable behind you.

“Scorsese, you bastard,” he shakes his fist in mock indignation, “how dare you steal the affections of my woman?”

A forced laugh comes out sounding a little too close to a sob. You play it off as best you can. Nothin’ to see here.

Alas, he catches it. And, of course, he won’t leave it alone, though you certainly ask him too.

“What is it, baby? What’s wrong?” He turns you toward him, hovering over you as you lie on your back and long to melt away. “Talk to me.”

“I just— I mean,” death seems of great comfort. “Is it me? Do you not… are you not… am I not pretty enough? Or sexy enough? Or… I don’t know,”

A frown of deep concern furrows his brow as his palms move to cup your face, “What? Are you not…Jesus, baby, of course you are. Fuck, if anything you’re too much. Too pretty, too sweet, too smart, too sexy.”

Your words come quiet and small, quivering with painful vulnerability “Then why?” You close your eyes, and thankfully, he allows you to hide this way.

Exactly what you knew would happen, happens. He lies without lying. “Why, what?” He sounds of feigned confusion. He knows what you mean.

Throat now constricted and pulsing with a wringing pain, you close your eyes tighter, unwilling to bear witness to whatever lie will follow his last. “Why don’t you want me?”

A tear breaches the dam you had hoped was impenetrable. You loathe and curse it.

“Hey, shhh…don’t do that. Don’t cry.” He brushes the tear away and then kisses over the path it took.

“Don’t cry?” You snap. A twinge of regret flares to life within you. You’ve never spoken to him unkindly, and could it be that there’s no going back? Perhaps this is it; the end of the road you’ve been heading inevitably for.

To your great surprise, he laughs. You crack an eyelid open to find it sincere. “So, she’s capable of something other than sugar, spice, and everything nice, after all.”

His hand smooths down your chest - can he feel the violent rattle of your heart as it thrums and beats out of control?

When at last he speaks, there is an edge to his tone you’ve never heard before. It warms you clear through to your curling toes “You think I don’t want you?”

You shrug, all pink cheeks and complete ineloquence.

“Well,” he soothes, drawing gentle patterns upon your temple and forehead, “you should know, that is far from the case.”

But, rather than take the moment further, as he so easily could, as you so desperately want him to, he sinks into an innocent position - resting his cheek on your stomach as you struggle to keep it from rising and falling too rapidly, his eyes, once more, on the screen.

The film drones on; mafia murders and cocaine swirling down flushed toilets. Betrayal and 20/20 hindsight…

…and on you watch, on the surface - in reality, you can think of nothing else other than the weight of his head on your stomach.

There is a dull ache there, inside you, gripping at every nerve ending all at once. He knows what you want, and he very obviously doesn’t want the same thing. He doesn’t want you.

He speaks first, and there’s too much truth in it. He knows you too well. “I need you to stop that.”

“Stop what?” You stupidly offer a tiny shrug, but for what? He isn’t even looking at you.

“Your walls, I can feel you stacking bricks. Stop, or I’ll take a wrecking ball to them.” he pets over your forearm comfortingly. It doesn’t help.

“Alright, Miley,” you toss the joke out like a life preserver for yourself. “Just don’t start licking sledgehammers and we’ll be alright.”

He gives you the softest laugh. It more closely resembles a sigh, “Is it only sledgehammers that you are opposed to me licking?”

Oh.

When he coolly pushes your shirt up and begins dragging his lips, licked slick and warm, around your belly button, you think you might burst into tiny, burning, longing, pieces. God, how you want him.

“You like that, baby love?” He speaks the words melodically into the room like a lullaby, hushed as a priest absolving you of your sins in a darkened confessional.

A whiny hum is all you seem capable of, but it doesn’t look like it matters much to him.

“Yeah?” He’s teasing now, and you think it might kill you. Your hips begin a barely perceptible rock in response. “Can I touch you, sweetheart? Do you want that?”

“Josh, please,” his name is less than a whisper. It’s a plea gasped into the dark, dancing with the flickering glow of the tv as it blinks and changes like lightning.

The warmth of his hand between them causes your thighs to twitch and tremble, but he hovers just above making actual contact. “God, look at you. How could you ever doubt how much I want you? So pretty. Can I touch you here, baby? My pretty, pretty girl.”

With a soft moan, you lift your hips, pressing into his palm. He doesn’t push for words, your body has given him all the consent he needs, and the want in your eyes reiterates.

His mouth is wandering your soft, flushed, stomach as he slides your pants away, gentle and sure, the tip of his tongue bridging the distance between his kisses.

Your hands weave down into his wild curls, comforted by the way they wrap themselves into your touch, spiraling around your fingers as you tug at them and tenderly scratch over his scalp. A particularly sweet drag brings a shiver to life on his shoulders. He groans in appreciation and runs away with another piece of your heart.

“Oh, fuck,” you murmur, surprised and grateful, when at last, he sinks a single finger into your warmth.

Should you at least have the decency to feel shy about the sound it makes? About the way you must be soaking his skin? Perhaps. But you don’t, and judging by the curse he secrets into the still of the night, there isn’t any reason to.

“Does that feel good?” He isn’t taunting you, it’s a genuine question, but there is a hint of a teasing tone there as well, peeking out from around the edges of his words and you think it might just be the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard.

“So good.” You’re whining and writhing beneath him, tiny pouty huffs of breath tumbling off your lips over and over…but you don’t care about that either.

His finger slips out and you mourn it pitifully, until it swirls around your swollen clit, tearing a shaking cry out of your chest. And then, there it is again, filling you as his thumb begins a slick trail of tight circles just right.

“You want more?” Oh god…the way he sounds, the way you feel. He’s setting you further and further on fire with his gentle, decadent, prodding. With his breathy, gingerly obscene questions. Flames - scorching and crackling - lick up inside you. Incinerating as they consume.

“More?” He asks again, rasping the word, wantonly urging you on.

“Yes!” You nod frantically, spreading your legs further. You want him, need him, so badly…coveting the very breath in his lungs for its privilege of being inside him in a way you’ll never know. You long to trickle down into his pores and vanish.

A second finger - they feel longer than they have ever looked - joins the first and then begins a perfect, guiding, curl.

Tucking into that perfect place inside you, he fucks the pads of his fingers against it ever so carefully. Gently spinning your head in every direction.

He rests against your belly as the muscles inside churn and flex beneath his ear, watching intently as his hand fucks away at you. He wonders what it might be like to stretch you to almost breaking. How it would feel to push another finger inside, and then another, and another. When would you tell him to stop? Three? Four? Could you take that burning stretch? Would you relish it and ask for more? Fuck, he hopes so.

But you feel so tight around him…just two fingers full and you’re squeezing like you’ll never let go. He worries, and the pounding pulse of neglect that aches rhythmically in his cock, reminds him that he worries rightly so.

He has always believed you to be the most beautiful thing his eyes have ever had the pleasure of landing upon, but he’s never seen you like this - spread open, soaked and puffy with want. With need…for him. It doesn’t seem possible.

The way you move…fluidly, like ripples chasing over the surface of a placid lake, urging him along with your body. Your gorgeous cunt sucking his fingers in. A goddess, a beckoning siren, an angel…he can’t look away.

Can’t until he hears it, until he feels it, how close you are. Wild, frothing, horses couldn’t keep him from the gift of watching your face as you fall apart. An army of men wouldn’t stand a chance. He wants this moment with you, and he will have it. He wants to make you cum, and he wants to watch your eyes go blurry with it, and so watch he will.

“C’mon, baby…” he goes breathless when his face tilts up to meet yours. You are flushed and panting, lips parted. The soft pink of your tongue just barely visible, blushing like saltwater taffy in your mouth and he wants to lick against it, wants to taste you.

The smallest blips of a sound he can’t describe chase each other out of that beautiful mouth he wants to kiss so badly. Tiny uh’s that shift into gasps of desperation. You’re right there, and he wants it more than you do.

With his bottom lip caught between his teeth, he eases his chin into the softness just below your navel, creating a delicious pressure, and crooks his finger so perfectly, pressing and stroking until it feels like you’re floating and the only thing holding you in place is him.

It is celestial. He is every constellation and you are the astronomer, feet held to the ground by gravity, eye pressed against a telescopic lens hopefully, frantic for a glimpse of his wonder.

There is only Josh.

“Almost there, pretty girl,” he nods, gaze glossed with lust and something that looks like love. “You gonna give it to me?”

You are. You’re going to give it to him. You couldn’t stop it now if you tried. Fluttering walls trap him inside you as his stare fixes, unmoving and heated, with yours.

“That’s it, baby love, that’s it.” He urges you on, leads you deeper and deeper, those long, warm, perfect, fingers working you like he’s been there a thousand times before. “Shh, you’re alright. I’m right here, just breathe for me.”

That’s all it takes for you to realize your lungs are burning for a breath you’ve been unknowingly denying them - and with that hissing, hungry, gasp for air, you explode under him.

He watches, mezmorized, as your eyes roll back, teeth clenched like some ethereal, feral creature. It bursts out of you, clear and shimmering, like liquid diamonds, but you don’t know it yet, he can tell…you’re too far gone, and he fucking loves it. He fucking loves you.

He has said it aloud. I love you, sweetheart. I love you so much. I love you.

But that’s the thing that he doesn’t know yet because he’s also too far gone.

You’re quiet, gentle. Sweet, whining whimpers floating out of you as you vibrate and spill.

On your end, you hear the confession of how deeply his feelings run, but you don’t register…it will settle in later and you’ll weep for not saying it back. Though you don’t need to, he knows.

Once you’ve settled, he pushes up until you are eye to eye, lapping your release off his fingers. You’re sweet enough to lick off a whisk like cake batter, and he tells you so…but you can focus on nothing but the shining glint of you that he wears so well.

Shocked by the sheer amount, you blush hard and hot. Burning brighter still when it drips from his hand and lands on your lip. In an act you don’t seem aware of, you lick it away like a raindrop. The very sight of it, the somehow still innocent depravity, weakens him until he is forced to swallow a whine.

“Had I known what I was missing,” he grins lazily, “I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.”

The confusion sends you crashing back to reality.

“But why stop yourself at all?” Your eyes are so wide and clear. It makes him want to gather you up and keep you safe.

Once more, it crosses his mind that you’re an angel. He wonders where your wings have gone.

“Because, I—“ he falters, shaking his head as if he might rattle his thoughts into place. Finally, he opts to show, not tell, pressing his hips against yours so you can feel him.

And feel him, you do, but only for a moment. He’s so hard you’re cozy from the heat of it through the sweats he was lounging in when you arrived.

You’ve noticed. Of course you have. You’ve stolen a glance or two when he wasn’t looking. How could you not? You’d just always thought, and not to be crass, you’d always just assumed he was a shower, rather than a grower.

Now you aren’t so certain. He felt massive during the short amount of time he was rocking into you.

“You’re thinking very hard, baby love.” He smiles down at you. “Are those thoughts in my favor, or…?”

He trails off and awaits your answer with that Josh-like patience. Rather than speaking, you curl your hands around the waistband of his pants and then cast your eyes up, in silent question.

Nodding the go ahead, he continues watching you closely…studying your reaction as you tug him free.

“Oh, fuck,” the expletive sighs out of you as the tip of his cock - leaking, angry and swollen - slaps up, well above his belly button, with a solid thump.

He’s big. So big. Long and thick, beautifully shaped. Blushing pink at the head, and visibly pulsing under your awestruck scrutiny. You absently wonder how he isn’t light-headed for the amount of blood it must require to bring him to such full attention.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” He explains softly, finally letting you in on the secret of why he’s been so skittish, “And I didn’t want to…”

His confession loses traction as he watches your mouth rather than meeting your gaze.

Your palms reach for him, cupping his angelic face with as much gentleness as the renewed desire racing through your veins will allow. “You didn’t want to what?”

While he searches for the words, you curl your thighs around him and pull him in, moaning out his name like a mantra when you feel him against you, skin to skin.

“God damn, baby…” he rocks his hips closer to yours and then remembers what he’s doing. “I didn’t want to scare you. And I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Yeah, you said that.” You tease, trying to lighten the heavy load of his anxiety.

“I know.” His mouth meets yours, searching out a slow, needful kiss. “But I kept imagining hurting you, and you being too sweet to say so. I’m still imagining it.”

Your tongue licks into his mouth as you wrap your fist around him. “Look at you, Josh,” you smile shyly through a kiss that is anything but shy. “My fingers don’t even touch.”

“Grew up under some power lines.” He teases, relaxing as he pecks along your jaw.

“I want you inside me.” You sound despondent, and feel just as forlorn, the look in his eye warns you may have a fight on your hands.

“Pretty girl,” he tucks himself away and begins kissing a slow, serpentine trail down your body after he flutters your shirt, indicating he wants it off. “I could barely get two fingers in your sweet little pussy. Why don’t you just let me kiss it? Don’t you want to cum on my tongue, hmm? Won’t that feel nice?”

Such filth is a captivating development, and one you like very much…but, you stop him all the same. Grabbing him by the hair with enough force to tilt his head back, pulling his mouth away from your straining nipple, you issue a demand you intend to make sure he fulfills, “I said, inside, Joshua.”

He raises an eyebrow and suppresses a grin of dirty glee. “Joshua?”

Ignoring him, you watch as he licks the pad of his thumb and then arch away from the cushion when he begins a steady, swirling journey over your clit with it. “Gonna make you cum first, love. Again and again. I’m gonna baby this gorgeous cunt until my name is the only word you want in your mouth…and then I want you to fill my mouth.”

“Jesus, Josh…” you’ve never wanted anything more, but you can hardly force the words out to convey just how fucking agreeable you are.

“You want that?” He flicks over you faster and faster, indulging in your pouty, needy cries, praying they never end. “You want to cum in my mouth? Feed me something sweet?”

“Easy, baby love,” he coos, whispering to you like you’re a tiny, broken bird, fallen from the nest and afraid. “You’ve got to relax a little more for me.”

“Yeah…” you nod, staring up at him as if he painted your entire world into existence. And maybe he did.

No longer able to count the number of orgasms he’s gifted you with, you feel like liquid silk. Or clay in his palm, happy to be molded to his liking.

“Yeah?” He drops a kiss onto your forehead and pushes in just a hint further, eyes darting up when you hiss with discomfort.

You offer a smile for him to continue and he returns it gently, but the way he’s fighting for breath betrays him. He wants you badly, he’s going slowly mad with the need to bury into your body to the hilt.

His fingertips skate a ticklish trail down the curve of your waist and then grip into your thigh, spreading you open a bit wider.

Both bare now completely to each other for the first time, you’ve given yourself over right there on the couch. The room is silent, save for hushed words and choked breaths twisting languidly through the air, the movie long since over.

He’d wanted to carry you off to the bedroom, but you refused.

You want him here. You want him now.

Palm cradling the back of your head, he brings you forward until your mouth is sucking at his shoulder. “Just like that, sweetheart. Good girl.” His praise flips your stomach. A violent somersault of carnal need. “You just suck and bite all you want. I’m gonna take care of you. You know that, don’t you?”

Nodding urgently against him, you’re far too interested in the marks you're leaving against his overheated skin.

“Words for me, okay?” He coaxes so gently it makes your chest ache.

“You’re going to take care of me.” You mumble through a long lick along his collarbone.

Without reply, he slides in deeper, yet still not much more than the tip rests inside you.

A shocked cry escapes you before you can stifle it and his face snaps up, searching your own for tells of pain that he doesn’t have to look all that closely for. “Baby,” the pet name sings out of him, a soft crooning apology. “Let’s stop, I…”

“No, please!’ The frantic want bubbling up inside you colors your voice and surprises you both, but he masks it well.

“Hush, love. No one’s stopping yet.” he soothes, massaging your hip carefully. Just wisps of touch, but you relax beneath it like a sleepy babe cradled up snug and safe.

You’re not fond of that ‘yet’ he tacked on to the end of his promise.

“Deeper.” Your hips lift, forcing his hand while you gulp down another sound of discomfort.

“Don’t.” His grip is suddenly digging into your waist, no longer careful, but swift and insistent instead. “Let me take my time. Let me be gentle. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He’s right, and you tell him as much as he begins a slow, stuttering journey. Starting and stopping as you writhe with impatience and uncomfortability in his capable hands.

Reaching up, he guides your fingers down until they brush over your sensitive clit. “You take care of this for me, okay, baby? Help me make this easier for my pretty girl…I can’t stand the thought of hurting you.”

“Please, Josh…” you sound a mess, and who gives a damn? “Please!”

You’re right, it’s time. He knows it better than you do. He can wait no more. There isn’t far to go anyway.

Suddenly, with one firm thrust, he drives in all the way to the base, shuddering as you coil around him like a hot, wet, fist. Squeezing harder and tighter and fuck….

“So fucking tight.” He is trembling, fighting the urge to let go already. “It’s like you don’t want to let me go. Pussy so pretty and soft. Like the sweetest thing all dressed in pink. Aren’t you fucking gorgeous?”

Your eyes drift closed, breathing through the last remnants of the biting sting. You’re so full, it feels so good. So right. So completely perfect, you cannot begin to fathom how you’ve lived all these years without him inside you.

“Say it.” He sounds like an angel clawing his way closer and closer to something he can’t survive without any longer.

“What?”

“Tell me you’re gorgeous.” He’s fucking you faster now…and it stings, but it hurts so good you want to feel the burn forever. “Say you’re my beautiful girl. Come on, I wanna know that you know.”

“I—“ your face flares as pink as the cunt he’s currently locked inside

“That’s it, baby love…” he coaxes, pumping into you with long, torturous strokes. “C’mon,”

A little less tentative now - he effortlessly makes you believe - the words finally come “I’m gorgeous.”

He smiles so wide his nose crinkles as he nods and dips his lips to meet your own. “Fuck yes you are. My pretty girl. You’re doing so well, look at you. Just taking and taking and taking me.”

Pulling you up and away from the pillow gently, he guides your line of sight to the sinful image of him gliding in and out of you. His cock, glistening and covered in your unbridled desire - it catches the light and steals your heart. Is it possible to be in love with a cock? Or are you just in love with the man who wields it?

Both. Most definitely, both.

“Look, baby, look…” a quivering huff escapes him. “It’s like coming home. Being inside you is like coming fucking home.”

“Harder,” you beg, winded and lost. He feels so good inside you. Stretched further than you ever thought possible around him, you clench and twist a fist into the throw pillow beneath you until your fingernails threaten to rip it open.

“Just…fuck,” his pretty face buries itself in the crook of your neck with a whimper as he falters. “Just a little.”

The room is hazy and blurred, filled with sounds neither of you can seem to quiet. Each moan and breath filling your head up until you feel feverish. Every groan and gasp pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

Your bodies meet in a sweat glazed dance that causes your teeth to grit together - biting down hard to suppress a scream that he might confuse with pain.

He tucks his own teeth into your throat deeply, growling out a melodic sound that sets you on fire, when the salt of your skin hits his tongue.

A shaky, “I’m gonna cum, baby love…where, baby, where?” Pants out of him with a desperate urgency the moment he releases your skin from his bite.

“Inside…” you plead, clawing at his waist as your thighs lock him in close. “Cum inside me…c’mon. Please,”

“Pretty girl begging for my cum. Begging me to ruin this beautiful little cunt…” he sounds as if he’s talking to himself, like he’s trying to convince himself that you’re real.

“Ruin it, baby,” your palms drift up his back, slow and steady…urging him along gently. “Ruin me.”

A sound so exquisitely angelic rumbles up out of his chest. Deep and primal, but somehow gentle and submissive, like he wants to fall at your feet in veneration of something holy and ancient.

He falls against you, pulling you as close as he can get you, and then draws the scent of your hair in only to feel that much closer. Rocking into you as he slowly comes down and finds himself.

Gathering you in his arms, he lifts you away from the disheveled couch, ignoring you when you protest weakly that you can walk.

A bath is drawn and laced with plain epsom salt to soothe your throbbing muscles. He slips into the steaming water behind you, cradling you as he drags a washcloth over your skin.

Quiet verses of a song you’ve never heard are whispered in your ear as you drift into a light slumber without worry, confident that he will keep your head safe above water.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @thelvnternskeeper @theweightofjake @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sunfl0wer-power @sad1lynn

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #gvf fic #josh kiszka #fanfic #gvf josh #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka smut #josh kiskza fanfic #josh gvf #smut

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he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle · 9 months

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Interesting Linguistic Notes from Jun & Jun episode 4

In her phone conversation with Choi Jun, Young does not exactly call herself his "fiancé."

She uses the word 구녀로서, which roughly translates to "as your woman." 구녀 when used alone means "she/old woman," but when paired with 로서 (which means to do something as a person who holds a specific status) it transforms into the idea more along the lines of being that person's singular girl. So you'll sometimes see it translated to "as your old woman" because it's more akin to the slang way we refer to our moms and wives than it is to the way we might say "I'm your woman" to refer to ourselves as your romantic partner. It's less about the state of romantic ownership and more about the old and familiar. I don't know why the translation team chose to translate it as fiancé, unless it's possible they have access to later scripts and know something we don't. But even then, we can probably anticipate that she's not an official fiancé, but rather someone their parents expect him to marry.

My current bet is just on her being overly familiar with Choi Jun, as we saw from her speech patterns in the car ride with both Juns earlier that morning. When she realizes that she already calls Choi Jun "Jun-i Oppa" (an intimate and affectionate way to refer to an older male/brother, as spoken by a female) and she has to call Lee Jun something different, any normal Korean who wanted to breech that level of familiarity would suggest "Lee Jun Oppa" as a way to differentiate the two. But she's been raised in the US too and leaps into suggesting "Jun-i Eonni" (an intimate and familiar way to refer to an older woman/sister, as spoken by a female). Lee Jun comedically bristles at that, saying he'd rather she kept calling him "Pigeon" instead. But she doesn't care and brushes right past societal norms and even still refers to him as Eonni later in her phone conversation with Choi Jun. Choosing this is intentionally queer-coded language as well (because her Korean is otherwise so good, and she doesn't seem to be joking). It's like calling a gay man "girl," or "sister," or "queen."

Speaking of the ways others address Lee Jun, it's important to note that in the final scene Simeon repeatedly calls him 우리 이준씨, which basically translates "my Lee Jun." He's not speaking intimately, but he is claiming ownership. This is why we see Hyun Jae's bewildered and sad expression and Choi Jun's stunned and jealous expressions.

Finally, I'll share a tidbit that caused some confusion when @bengiyo watched the episode and take my comment out of the notes on Ben's post and put it here. In his breakroom conversation with Lee Jun, I think it VERY LIKELY Hyun Jae was vaguing about M/M relationships. Because Korean culture is still VERY homophobic, he was trying to feel out how accepting Lee Jun is towards diversity and possibly even invite him into a queer space. He begins by saying, "you know, people have different values depending on the environments they've lived in," and ends with "diversity is valued these days." But instead he "dug his own grave" because Lee Jun's brain immediately went to the morning's events and the confusion he feels from it all (particularly being invited to do a sexual favor for a man who then later received a kiss on the cheek from an overly familiar woman) and he basically said NO, SOME THINGS ARE TOO DIVERSE.

I expect we'll see Lee Jun try to draw more boundaries with Choi Jun, not because he's a man (he flirted back after all) and not because he's his boss (although that may play a role), but mostly because his current impression is that Choi Jun isn't serious. He thinks he flirts like this all the time because he's too American.

@absolutebl I'm tagging you again because you're a linguistic geek too!

#jun & jun the series #jun & jun #jun and jun #asian gay dramas #i love linguistics #watch all my predictions be wrong #i always feel like such a clown

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ninapi · 6 months

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°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ First Born❜ (Halloween Special)┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

Premise: Being an older brother once more was beyond exhilarating for Choso, he never expected though to find love by his little brother's side, his pretty and kind childhood friend bringing a softness into his life he didn't know it was possible one Halloween night.

Word Count: 3243

Note: this is a Semi AU, meaning the characters are who they are in the series, yet the timeline doesn’t match the original story.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

Choso has been a big brother since he can remember, that’s his number one trait and the one he is more proud of in general.

Therefore, loosing his two younger brothers continues to sting to this day.

Gaining a ‘new brother’ or finding a ‘lost brother’ which ever you wanna call it, gave him a new sense of purpose, a new reason to live and continue growing as a person.

His number one flaw though, was how unemotional he was.

To Yuuji, Choso was embarrassing.

He never gets the jokes, more like he can’t even laugh on his own like if his face muscles were forever stiff, a spoon could get social cues better than him; he says the most embarrassing things at the worst timing too and this brings us to this moment.

Yuuji had been flirting with the girl that worked a part time at the donut shop close by for about a month. He would always stop by and buy even if it was just one donut to munch on his way to school just so he could see her smile for a couple of minutes; he even went as far as to ask for her number last time he was there; though today, Choso tagged along and was currently glaring at said beauty for getting ‘too close’ to his brother. “What is it that you want woman? I won’t let you get your smitten paws over my little brother, you hear me? You won’t ever understand how precious he is, must be protected at all cost.”

“Oh my god…just what do you think you’re doing?? Ruining my life?? Didn’t I tell you to stay outside with Fushiguro??”

“Itadori-kun, I think your brother is right, I don’t think I can handle such a precious boy….” the girl couldn’t hold her laugh any longer, same thing as her co-workers who witnessed the scene.

“That’s it. I’m never taking you out again. Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get her to even look at me??” Yuuji was so disheartened, he opted to sit down on the sidewalk, contemplating the meaning of life while hating on his new older brother.

“I…I was just trying to-“

“I know, I know…just trying to be a good older brother…But have you stopped for a second and think that maybe not everyone wants to hurt me? I’m strong enough to defend myself, a pretty little thing like her wouldn’t even dream of hurting anything but my heart…” he sniffs dramatically, burying his face on his hands.

“You can die immediately if someone hurts your heart, idiot…”

This was the last drop of patience within him, “NOT literally, OK? I don’t mean my internal organ, I mean the feelings side of the heart!!”

“That’s not in your heart but your brain. You can also die if someone hurts you there-“

“Just stop talking!!!” Megumi and Nobara were both laughing their asses off at their banter, truth is Nobara saw the girl flirt with at least four different guys in just a week, she had been trying to warn her friend about her, so it was actually a good thing having dense Choso around to break the spell she had on him; that didn’t make it any less funny though.

“Itadori don’t be so hard on him, he’s pouting again.”

“I am not doing such thing-“

“Yes you are, man…” Megumi let out a deep sigh, walking on the opposite direction wanting nothing to do with the loud display of idiocy in front of him.

“Hey Fushiguro! Where are you going? We still need to discuss our plans for the party!” Yuuji yelled after him a little too loud, causing Megumi to flinch and return just to shut him up. “There’s nothing to discuss…Just be there around 9PM, you have to wear a costume or they won’t let you in, those are the rules.”

“Did you choose one already? I never pegged you for someone who’d like halloween parties~” giggling, Nobara elbowed Yuuji on the ribs wanting him to team up with her to tease their friend.

“I bet he’ll wear something ridiculous, like one of those giant carrot costumes.” bursting out laughing, both held each other from collapsing on the ground imagining carrotgumi.

“For your information, I will go as a vampire…I found dubious objects in a closet in Gojo-sensei’s, I mean back in the house…so I brought them with me for this party. Not like I want to go or anything but Maki-san threaten to shave my head in my sleep if I didn’t go…”

“Bald carrotgumi….” after one more outburst of intense laughter, the team bullying ended for the best. “I need a costume, would you go buy one with me, Kugisaki?”

All this time Choso has been quietly observing the entire thing. He knows his brother literally just said he wouldn’t take him out with him ever again, but he really wanted to prove him he could do better, that he wasn’t an embarrassment and that he was the best older brother there was to have, this was his chance. “Guys…do you think…do you think I can come with you…?”

“No, never, non, forget about it.”

“B-but…”

“Listen, you just ruined my life! How do you even think I would take you with me again?”

“Poor guy, just let him come, Itadori…he always brings the funniest of conversations out. I like him.” Choso perked up a little at the support he was getting, even if he knew all she wanted was to mock his brother, at least someone wanted him there.

“Oh c’mon….What if he ruins it again?”

“Just leave (Y/N) in baby sitting duty. She likes lost causes…” shrugging she started making her way to the costume shop, both of them tagging along.

“(Y/N)? I mean yes she does take recycling to an intense level and saves stray cats, but this is…this is something else, Kugisaki…” Choso’s lip was quivering once more, not wanting to face rejection for a third time on the same day by the person he wishes to please the most.

“Ok then how about we do this…” leaning close to Yuuji’s ear she whispers her plan with the most mischievous grin anyone has ever seen in their lives. To this Yuuji laughs for what feels like hours, having to stop in his tracks to wipe his tears away and calm down. “Ok, ok let’s ask him…” going over to his older brother, Yuuji bats his eyelashes prettily up at him, “Nii-chan…you can go…if you go dressed as the carrot Fushiguro isn’t wearing…”

Choso just nodded eagerly, not fully understanding what he was getting himself into.

“Also, I won’t let you follow me around, I wanna get a girl in my bed by tonight, and you can’t stop me. I’ll ask my best friend to look after you. Understood?” this definitely wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted bonding time with his brother, have a nice time, maybe drink one of those beers he introduced him to the other day, not having to stay behind away from the fun dressed as a commonly disliked vegetable…but it was the chance he was looking for to prove he could behave.

“Is that a yes? Or-?”

“Yes, I will go.” Nobara was on her phone browsing for carrot costumes, not long after running on her way to the shop.

This would be a long night..

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The night was young, every known sorcerer and their friends and family were invited to this party.

Yuuji chose to dress as werewolf, while Nobara went dressed as a sexy nurse.

Choso though…let’s just say the carrot outfit didn’t suit him that well…

Wanting to get rid of him as soon as possible, Yuuji stopped you right at the entrance with a big grin plastered on his face. “(Y/N) my darling! My bestie! The light that shines above us…!”

“What do you want now-“ he was being too obvious, he only acts this way when he wants either money or nasty favors.

“Have you met my brother yet?”

“Your what-? I’ve lived next door my entire life and I’ve never seen a brother of yours-“ covering your mouth almost instantly, he glared at you, trying to get you to play along.

“O-oh…yes your brother! You told me about him the other day. No, I haven’t had the pleasure to meet him yet!” smiling on his direction, you walked over to him, taking both of his hands in yours.

“Hi! I’m (Y/N), it’s nice to finally meet you! By the way, what an adorable outfit you brought today! I wish I knew about them before, then we could have been two carrots instead of just one!” giggling at how good you were handling his worst nightmare, Yuuji sneaks away without you noticing; thing is, not only did you not notice, but neither did Choso, and that had never happen before.

“They also had tomatoes and an eggplant, but that one was too little, it would probably fit you though.” He nodded in thought, unable to figure out why the thought of you dressed like a tiny eggplant sounded so appealing. Was this why his brother wanted him to be a carrot? Did he actually look cute?

“I would have loved to be an eggplant! We could take a bunch of pictures, probably even win the costume contest!” your soft laughter brought a smile to his face, he’s never been treated this nicely before.

“What are you supposed to be though?” he eyed you from head to toe, making you blush. “I’m Godzilla~” you posed, letting out a cute little roar, his heart skipped a beat, cuteness has never been his thing but he could see the appeal of it now.

“I apologize, I do not know what that is, but it’s certainly cuter than an eggplant. They don’t make sounds...” his comment made you giggle giddily, why did Yuuji dislike him this much? He’s such a sweetheart…

“Hmm Godzilla is…a monster…he destroys cities and kicks buildings.” you tried your best to imitate it properly, earning a smile from him once more, making you feel accomplished.

“So like a curse? I’m half curse-” he looked at you with his eyes wide opened in realization.

“Nah, more like a cute big animal lost in a city full of ants.” he nods at this, before pointing to a table by the door. “They had animal shaped cookies in a bowl over there.” he didn’t know why but he felt the need to make you smile some more, to make you feel comfortable in his presence unlike the rest of his brother’s friends and seemed like you liked animals enough to dress like one.

“Do they? I bet they’re adorable. Would you like to eat some with me?” the way your eyes twinkled at this little piece of information made his stomach feel hollow, but it wasn’t a bad feeling, he kind of wanted to feel more of this, so he went over the table and poked all the cookies from the bowl until he was sure he’s gotten at least one of every single animal available in it.

Megumi, who was sitting at the top of the stairs hiding from a drunk panda who was trying to get him to kiss his cousin, saw the entire scene unfold, and decided to intervene before Itadori ruined his moment if he caught him. “Choso…stop touching all the food just grab a handful she’ll like it anyways, trust me.” to his advice he nodded gratefully, making sure to grab some drinks as well.

“Here, I couldn’t find the elephant, I was sure I saw one when I went by that table earlier, apologies for not getting you the complete set. I got you some melon soda though, I hope you like it.” the back of his neck felt hot, he continued wondering why he wanted to please you this bad, is not like you were his little sister, not like he wanted you to be his sister- he wouldn’t be able to last a day before dying of cuteness overload.

“Don’t worry! I’m sure Mr.elephant found a nice home in someone else’s belly.” chuckling you grabbed a little bear cookie and pressed it to his lips, “Try it! It’s yumyum~” you danced happily at the taste, wanting to share the joy a good high quality cookie can bring to someone’s life.

To this he just gave out a short nod, getting the entire cookie into his mouth. This was all so new to him, was this why his brother kept insisting in taking a girl to his bed?

What would they even do there?

He would like to take you to his and eat elephant shaped cookies, maybe even talk a little, or watch a movie, he’s been really into them since his brother introduced him to horror films.

“Hey (Y/N) would you like to go to my room? It’s a bit far but we could walk there-“ before he could continue his sentence, a shoe came flying straight to his face, Megumi coming to pull him to the side, “I’m borrowing him for just a second (L/N), be right back.”

He took Choso outside, away from prying eyes, a deep scowl on his face, “What on earth are you doing? You spend too much time with Itadori, he’s rubbing on you…”

“I thought you’re supposed to take nice girls to your bed…”

“I..ugh..WhAT? Who told you that? Never mind don’t answer…” letting out a long sigh he plops down on a bench prompting Choso to the same. “Look, man…it is true I guess, though the order is wrong. Remember how your brother talked to the same girl for months just to get her to like him?” nodding his head he was taking mental notes, Megumi rarely took his time to teach him anything, this must not go to waste.

“When you think a girl is nice or cute, pretty even. When she’s nice to you as well and you feel like you want more of her…” his nodding intensified, it was as if he was reading his mind, describing just how he was feeling that same moment.

“You have to treat her right, make nice things for her, be patient, don’t do anything impulsive. Girls are more delicate, you can’t be rough with them. Got it?”

“I knew it. I should have looked for that elephant cookie some more…”

A rare smile appeared on Megumi’s face, Choso has been nothing but a pain to them when it doesn’t come to fighting, but he’s never seen this soft side of him, or maybe he had, just that Itadori always shuts him down unlike you.

“Yeah well, maybe next time you can buy her a bag, I’m sure the elephant will be there.” his eyes opened widely, he hadn’t thought about that, fantastic idea.

“You’re a great guy, Fushiguro, I appreciate your advise. I can be your older brother too, if you ever need one...” with a small smile on his face, Megumi walked away back to his room, he'd have enough of this party already.

“Go back to her, before someone steals her away~” running back inside, his heart came back to his body when he saw you patiently waiting for him inside, fidgeting with your fingers.

“I have returned. Fushiguro just told me we can find the elephant cookie if I get you a new pack of cookies. Would you like to go buy one with me?”

“Right now?” that smile of yours will end up causing him heart failure, he was sure of that now.

“Or later, when you have time, if you want that is…we can also go back for the eggplant dress, if you’re tired of being Godzilla.” It was pretty obvious to you by now that he was trying to get you out of this party, you weren’t what others would call a 'party animal’, you only went because your best friend called you over; the same best friend who’s been flirting with every single girl in the room and has not addressed you for the longest time.

“I think they sell them in the supermarket down the street, lets go~!” pulling him by his hand, you both walked in silence as none of you knew what to say.

“So, how is Yuuji as a younger brother? If he’s mean to you tell me, I will kick his ass…” you knew your bestie, he could be really sweet as much as he can be a real ass when he wants to be.

“He’s great. I wish we could get along better though…but it’s hard to know what he wants. I wished everyone would be happy with animal cookies…”

“I think it’s easy getting along with you though. You’re sweet and gentle, funny too.” Choso has never been complimented before, not like this at least…was this what his brother called ‘flirting’?

“I…well I think you are all those things too…nobody has ever treated me this nice before…” his comment managed to sadden you more than anything, stopping you on your tracks to place a hand on his cheek gently.

“Then how about we see each other some more? I need you to see how special you are.” your smile was so bright, so comforting…his chest ached but in a pleasant way, he kind of wanted to rip his own heart out just to see the chemical reaction occurring within his body in this very second, his blood even felt more powerful, he could kill Gojo Satoru right now, he was sure of it. But all he wanted was to count cookies with you while looking at the night sky.

“Can we? See each other again? I mean after the cookies...?”

“Of course! Lets do all sorts of things together! Have you ever been to a theme park? Maybe I can get the eggplant costume and we could both go dressed as vegetables, that’d be fun!” your arm wrapped around his as you walked towards the supermarket.

“I’ve never been to one, no.”

“Then we totally have to go! We could play some video games too! Oh and we definitely need to go to that new crepe place down town, I heard you need a reservation and all!”

“Why do you want to go with me to all those places?” he was honestly confused, he’s been facing so much rejection that this fuzzy feeling in his chest was starting to cause some concern.

“That’s what friends do, right? Besides, I think you’re really cute…maybe…we could…you know…one of those days we go out…only if you’d like of course…we could maybe say it’s a date?” you smiled nervously up at him, he’s never seen such beauty in his entire life, not even the drawing his little brother made for him when they were little was this pretty. “I would like that very much…”

Being the first born of four brothers had its benefits as much as it has its flaws, but tonight he was sure of one thing, he was glad of getting in his little brothers nerves enough to get him to dump him with the cutest girl his eyes had ever lay on.

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Masterlist

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last-herondale · 5 days

Text

Almost Pt. 6

Bucky Barnes x Femreader!

Bucky POV

Angst, heartbreak, love triangle

Warning: none?

AN: We had state testing this week. My brain is fried. Sorry if this is trash but it’s my trash.

Enjoy 🤘🏼

It seemed that yet again I was standing there, watching you walk away from me after I had undoubtedly broken your heart. Again.

I tried to rationalize with myself that it wasn’t my fault. That the last thing I expected to happen that night was to run into you. Of course, I had dreamed of it. Concocted ways in my head of how I could accidentally run into you, just to see you. Maybe even talk to you. The ache in my heart from missing you had become a constant hurt. I had missed you while you were away, but after seeing you kiss Steve in the kitchen…after seeing you so happy…

I knew I had to step away.

I had been doing so well. Only seeing you when only absolutely necessary. Filling more and more of my time with missions and other distractions like Nadia, who seemed content enough to spend her time with me. I knew I was using her, and I hated myself for it, but I didn’t know how to handle the alternative.There was a certain torment in knowing you were back. In knowing that you were under the same roof as me, having a life that was becoming more and more distant from mine.

After tonight, I would be surprised if you ever talked to me again. I realized instantly that there was no excuse for what I said to you. I had been taken off guard seeing you pinning Nadia to the wall. I wanted to laugh at the scene before me. The shocked look on Nadia’s face, the stern, determined look in your eyes that was immediately overshadowed by the look of pure shock as you locked eyes with me.

There were a million things I wanted to say to you at that moment. A million feelings that came to the surface, and yet like an idiot, the only emotion I could convey, the only emotion I seemed to ever convey, was anger. The moment I began opening my mouth, the moment I saw the light in your eyes die out…

I went back inside of my apartment and grabbed my jacket before stepping out again. I knew there was no chance of me sleeping tonight, not after that. So I might as well torture my body in the training room as some sort of recompence for what I did.

The training room was empty, luckily. I started with the punching bag, made extra durable by Tony, and put the rest of my stupid emotions into that bag. Punch after punch I laid all my frustrations into my fists. The rhythmic thuds were comforting as I felt my chest heave after each breath. Sweat dripped down my forehead.

The slamming of the door took me out of my zone and I jerked in the direction of the entrance to see Steve standing there in the doorway. His body seemed eerily calm, with his hands in his sweat pockets, but he had a furrowed brow as he looked at the floor. I wasn't surprised to see him. I had insulted you, in possibly the worst way I could have. If you had run to tell anyone, it would have been your… I think the ache I felt now was over the fact that it wasn’t me.

“Up late?” I asked, grabbing a towel off of the rack and wiping my face. I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t.

“Yeah, couldn’t sleep,” Steve said in a flat tone, “Then of course I heard yelling down the hallway.”

I winced. Honestly I had been surprised that no one else had come out during the altercation. The amount of people in that tower that had super hearing… I turned towards Steve, trying to fix my face into some sort of nonchalant pose. I knew he would see right through it. Part of me wanted him to see right through it.

I wish he would just come out and yell. Let his anger come out so that I could match that energy. But Steve was never the guy to throw his anger out without cause. He was patient. He was understanding. He was a good man. Everything I wasn’t. So, rather than punching me in the face, he was just standing there, waiting for me to talk.

“Sorry for waking you, it's been a weird night.”

Steve kept his eyes steady on me. I clenched my jaw.

“Look, I don’t know what she told you–” I began

“She hasn’t told me anything,” Steve said calmly, “In fact, I can’t seem to get her to leave her room to talk to me. She won’t even pick up her damn phone.”

I couldn’t hide my shock. I thought surely after the altercation you would run to the man that has been providing comfort to you for the past few months. If you hadn’t then maybe what the two of you had wasn’t as deep as I first thought…

“I heard what you said to her, Buck,” Steve said in a cold tone.

My stomach dropped at his words.

“I didn’t mean it,” I said weakly, “I know I shouldn’t have said it, but I…”

My words seemed to fail me as I sat down on a bench. A couple of moments passed, but eventually, Steve sat down beside me and sighed.

“Bucky, you need to be completely honest with me. Do you love her?”

There it was. The question I couldn’t face. The answer came so easily in my head. Of course I did. What was there not to love? How was I to admit that I was lost without you? That turning you away was the worst mistake I ever made. I couldn’t look at Steve. I couldn’t talk.

Steve sighed again. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that he was rubbing his face. He was tired and exhausted. I was hurting everyone around me.

“Stop that,” Steve said softly.

“What?” I blurted out.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You don’t do yourself any favors by pushing everyone away.”

When I didn’t respond, he continued.

“I know how hard you are on yourself, especially when Nat left. I know you thought you found your person in her, and after everything you have been through you deserve to find someone who not only makes you happy, but fills your heart with so much light that it overshadows the darkness. When you were in that pit of despair, I had no idea how to get you out of it, and I felt like a failure as your best friend. But then, she showed up. She came into both of our lives like a wildfire. She brought back the light in your eyes, and reawakened your soul.”

I felt hot tears down my face, but Steve continued on.

“I won’t deny that I’ve grown feelings for her. I think seeing her love you and care for you as much as I do, makes me see her in the greatest of lights. She is worthy of so much love. I thought maybe you… I thought that maybe you would love her… I thought that was where your story was heading Buck, but you chose differently. I saw her leave my birthday party. I saw how distraught she was. I could only assume that you didn’t have feelings for her as she had for you. That’s why I… that the only way I could live with myself for… feeling these things.

“But clearly, there is something there. You avoid her now like she is the plague. You hardly talk to me anymore and we are brothers, you and I. So, Bucky, you don’t have to say it, but I know you love her. In some capacity, I know you do. You can deny it all you want, but I know you.”

Steve sighed again. “I know you think you don’t deserve to be loved. I know it’s hard for you to see the goodness in yourself, but you deserve love. You deserve to be happy. If she is what makes you happy, you need to let her know. She deserves that, doesn’t she?”

Yes, you deserve everything.

“What about you?” I asked, my voice was shaky as I spoke. I finally looked up at him and saw his expectant blue eyes waiting for me. I was surprised to see that he wasn’t angry.

Steve gave a small chuckle.

“I have never been one to deny you your happiness Bucky,” his voice turned a bit solemn, “I care about her… a lot. She is one of my best friends, and the time we have spent together has been… great. But we have been honest with each other. We both have unresolved heartaches from the past that prevent us from becoming more. She doesn’t hold it against me for still loving Peggie, and I don’t hold it against her from loving you. Maybe in time, we could become something more, but for now our hearts do not beat for each other as they should.”

“So you don’t… love her?” I asked carefully. I didn’t like that I was beginning to sound hopeful. I wanted you to be loved. I wanted you to be cared for. I thought Steve would be perfect for you… I thought there wasn’t a chance in hell that I would be able to…

“I love her, but not in the way that she clearly loves you,” Steve gave me a smirk.

“I don’t know if she does anymore. I’ve been a complete ass to her,” I mumbled, putting my head in my hands.

“Oh I know,” Steve laughed a bit but then looked at me seriously, “So what are you going to do about it?”

I raised my head out of my hands. What was I going to do about it?

“Do you really think she could love me, after everything? After tonight?” I asked pathetically.

“I think,” Steve said carefully, “That you will have to earn her trust back. It’s not about making her love you again, she loves you, has loved you through everything. You messed up, and you realize that, so you need to change. Change for her, change because of her. You already have and you haven’t realized it. Now show her. Give her back the love she gave you, and more.”

Images of you flashed through my head. Memories of you laughing with me, holding me when I was a complete mess. Memories of you consoling me, telling me that I was worthy, that I was more than I thought of myself. These memories warmed my soul, as they always did. I realized that I wanted more memories with you. I wanted to be consumed by them. Enveloped in them. I need you now more than ever. I would always need you. Always want you. Always desire you. And I needed to show you how much you meant to me.

I let out a small chuckle.

“For an old man,” I said playfully, “You are really good at giving advice.”

Steve laughed and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

“Remind me to charge you for my services later,” he teased.

I clasped my hand on his shoulder. “Thank you Steve.”

He just gave me a hopeful look and slapped my back.

“Go get her, buddy.”

I was up and out the door before he finished the word. I didn’t know what I was doing, I didn’t know what I was going to say to you. Apologize. That's what I needed to do first. Grovel at your feet. Beg for any forgiveness you would be willing to give me. I was at your door, knocking in quick succession before I could fully think about what I wanted to say.

My chest was heaving and my palms were sweaty waiting for you. I knocked on the door again. Impatient, I put my ear against the door to listen for any sign of you. I heard the soft sound of your radio playing your favorite channel from your room, but nothing else. The sun was rising, and beams of sunlight were breaking through the windows of the tower.

It wasn’t unusual for you to be up and about early in the morning, but after the night we had, I know you didn’t get much sleep. But you wouldn’t be asleep with the radio on. You hated any sort of noise when you slept. I knocked again.

“Please open the door,” I begged.

Nothing.

A sick feeling spread through my stomach like ice. I shoved down the door in one hit. Your living room was empty, no sign of a break in or struggle, but you were nowhere in sight. I called out for you. Nothing. I scanned your apartment, looking for any sign of where you were. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, except on your nightside table there was an envelope. I approached it slowly, my hand shivering as I saw the name on the outside of the card.

Steve

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