#and that if you DO like being a system you're somehow faking it all | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lovelivision · 9 months ago

Text

NEW JOB

pairing: gojo satoru/reader

wc: 7.1k

summary: starting a new job is always hard, especially when you're tasked with a glorified babysitting role for the most powerful sorcerer and his antics, but what happens when you somehow find yourself growing oddly attached to his weird behaviours and teasing nature

a/n; i am obsessing over this 2d man and i cannot be stopped, come near me and i'm infecting you with thoughts of him. anyways! new blog so i can write for jjk hehehhohoh (i wrote this in a single sitting because i'm mentally unwell)

warnings: 18+ only, smut, making out, dry humping, hickeys, dirty talk, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, big dick gojo (duh), creampie, afab!reader, she/her pronouns used, no use of y/n, nicknames

MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

Why you were here, you had no clue… well you did, you just wish you didn’t have to be here but being forced to do this was putting it lightly. It’s frustrating because they act like you don’t have your own jobs to handle but now you’re being forced to be Gojo Satoru’s handler as well. This is going to be a much more taxing job than exorcising any curse, why he insisted on pissing off the higher ups is beyond you. Not that you’re completely innocent in those regards, mind you.

You’re sat waiting in Yaga’s office, waiting for a certain someone who treats showing up on time as optional. Looking at the clock behind Yaga, you see it’s bordering on 15 minutes since he was supposed to be here.

You deflate slightly with your quiet sigh, “Do I really need to be h–”

“–Yes,” is the only reply you get out of the man in front of you, eyes unreadable but based on the aura of the room, he’s beyond pissed.

Sinking further into your seat, you murmur about how annoying all of this is, it’s meant for Yaga to hear but he ignores you. Seeing Gojo is going to take years off your life, you’ve crossed paths with him many times in the past few years, he has a bad habit of interrupting your exorcisms, finishing them, and then getting on your nerves.

The door behind you slides open and shut loudly, making your heart lurch inside your chest, while you outwardly fight the urge to flinch. Gojo moves in behind you and leans down, “Didn’t scare you, did I?” There’s an annoying mirth in his tone as he carelessly rounds the seat and sits far too close to you.

You don’t spare him a glance, “No.”

He smiles at you knowingly but says nothing more, finally addressing Yaga, “What’s up?”

“You’re late,” Yaga takes in a deep breath, fighting the urge to yell at him.

Gojo’s smile grows, his words picked carefully to piss the pair of you off more, “Well, I know that part, I meant why am I being summoned here.”

You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, “Why is he only being informed of this now?” You ask, irritated with not only Gojo but the whole damn system. You were told nearly two weeks ago that this was happening, how hadn’t he been told until now.

Yaga looks at you like it should be fairly obvious why they waited and you guess it is, he’s blind-sided this way, he doesn’t have a chance to wriggle out of it when today is the official first day of your new job babysitting Gojo Satoru and his first-year students. Oh, this is just perfect for you and not foreboding at all.

Before you have a chance to speak again, Yaga says, almost like he’s delighting in how inconveniencing this will be for Gojo, that, “You now have a teaching assistant, Gojo. You will be monitored as well as your students and everything will be reported back to me.”

“Ah, a glorified babysitter, how lovely,” Gojo’s smile doesn’t drop but it does look more strained.

Yaga doesn’t take kindly to his tone, “Watch it, this is fully deserved and you know it.”

“I’ve done nothing,” he defends himself.

You scoff slightly at that and Gojo side eyes you, you make an active effort to avoid his gaze though and instead focus on what Yaga is saying, “After that stunt you pulled with faking Itadori’s death recently, you’re lucky to be getting off so easy.”

Gojo jabs his thumb in your direction, “So what’s her punishment for then?”

You finally look at him, “Excuse me?”

“Well, I don’t imagine this is something one signs up for, so what did you do to piss off the higher ups,” his smile is teasing and so is his tone.

You squint at his stupid blindfold before looking back at Yaga, “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Yaga coughs at your statement but doesn’t let Gojo’s endless amusement at your suffering continue, “What may or may not have happened is none of your business Gojo–”

“–Ah, so something did happen then,” he elbows at your shoulder and you grumble at him.

Yaga completely ignores Gojo’s antics, “Your only concern is to be accommodating and keep her in the loop.”

He waves a hand easily, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” he brushes off the conversation with a sceptical nonchalance. His palms hit his knees as he pulls himself off the seat, “Is that all?”

Yaga pauses, watching him carefully for a moment before acquiescing, “Yes, that’s all, get out.”

“Come on, troublemaker, you have three adorable first years to meet!” his tone is too chipper and you don’t take kindly to his nickname for you but you stand from the seat and bow at Yaga before following behind him.

⸝⸝⸝

You are… uncomfortable, to say the least. The three first years sit in front of you, confused and waiting for some kind of explanation but Gojo just leans against the lectern, amused smile plastered on his face. You’re nervous, children can be so… scary, they were scary when you were their age and now you’re getting stage fright, in front of three people.

Gojo giggles behind you, granting some mercy… his version of mercy anyways, “We have a new addition to the class!”

“She’s… a student?” The one you recognise as Itadori tilts his head in question.

You can hear the glee drip from Gojo’s voice, “Well in some ways–”

“–No.” You cut him off abruptly, “I am… uhm, a teaching assistant… of sorts…”

The girl, very clearly unamused, questions further, “And what are you gonna be doing?”

You freeze up, you do know what you’re meant to be doing but you’re getting shy, you’ve never been good at being put on the spot.

Gojo finally moves from behind the lectern and places a hand on your shoulder, “She’s basically… my babysitter!” He announces, large smile on his face.

The students look… completely not shocked, like they expected something like this to happen at some point.

“I am here to help though! So, if you have questions or want someone to spar against or if Gojo is unavailable and you need help on a mission, I am here to be of service,” you smile lightly, trying to be kind. If you’re going to be here, you want to be of some use.

Itadori nods in thought, “So, are you strong?”

You feel warm in the face at the question, it’s not something you’ve ever been asked really. You think you are, you’re definitely capable but you’re nowhere near Gojo.

While deep in thought, Gojo replies for you, “Yes.” His reply is simple and leaves them all with more questions.

You throw a glance at Gojo before answering for yourself, “I am capable and willing to help.”

⸝⸝⸝

Your first introductions went better than you expected, you quite like them all, even the quiet one who’s always in a bad mood. Things would’ve gone better if Gojo didn’t delight in teasing you in front of them all, it’s embarrassing to be poked and prodded at for some kind of a reaction, you mean, isn’t he meant to be an adult for crying out loud.

It’s only been about a week and a bit into you ‘babysitting’ Gojo and you think he might be attempting to annoying you into quitting but that isn’t an option for you. The kids are sparring on the open field and Gojo is at your side, poking the side of your face with a mischievous smirk plastered on his. He’s been trying and failing to get a reaction out of you for the past 10 minutes.

“Gojo, is there something you want from me, or are you just waiting for me to try and smack you,” Turning your body, you face him completely, your hands on your hips.

He shoves his hand behind his back quickly, trying to play it off like he wasn’t just poking your cheek, “I don’t know what you mean.”

Sighing you continue, “If you’re trying to annoy me into quitting, you’re going to find that awful difficult, I have to be here.”

“Quite the contrary, I like having you here, troublemaker,” he smiles, leaning against the tree behind him.

“It doesn’t feel like it,” you grit out.

He hums lightly, “That’s just cause you’re not used to my love language.”

Raising a brow at him, you ask, “Your love language is being absurdly annoying?”

“Now you’re getting it,” he pokes you directly on your nose and you exhale sharply, twisting your lips to hide any hint of amusement. Turning back to the students you resume ignoring him, which he huffs dejectedly at, “If you’re gonna be watching over me for a while, you may as well get used to talking to me, I think I’m quite enjoyable.”

“Of course you would think that,” you retort.

“Ouch,” he grabs his chest, pretending to be wounded, he pushes off the tree and hangs an arm over both your shoulders, his weight pressing into you, “So… seriously, what did you do?” His head is turned to the side of yours, watching for your reactions.

You’re starting to feel uncomfortable at his proximity but apparently so are the others because Kugisaki turns and points at Gojo, yelling, “Don’t hang off her like that, perv!”

You stifle a laugh at her accusation, as Fushiguro rolls his eyes and grimaces.

Gojo calls out, “Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?” He wraps both his arms around you and pokes his tongue out at them all.

You’re squished against him and it’s making you hot, “Gojo, if you don’t peel yourself off of me in the next few seconds I’m going to rip out your tongue.”

“I don’t think you would be able to, is the thing though,” he snickers down at you, he does release you though, taking a step back.

You feel beyond annoyed and as much as you know your fist won’t connect, you go to throw a powerful punch at him anyways. It predictably gets stopped by his infinity, never even making it close to his face.

“Oh wow, you tried to punch me!” He exclaims in faux hurt, his hand reaches up to yours and unfurls your fist, instead interlacing your fingers, “I was wondering how long it would take for you to crack and try and hit me.”

You sigh in defeat, “Gojo, please let go of my hand.”

“Tell me what you did and I just might,” he propositions.

The kids are yelling at Gojo from the field, cursing him out for being weird, which of course, he only finds hilarious.

“Gojo,” he hums at you in acknowledgement, “Do you think if I tried really hard, and willed it to happen, that me kicking you in the balls would connect?”

He pouts at your words, apparently holding out for a different response, “Oh, how you wound me.” He drops your hand with a sigh, “Can’t be that bad, tell meeeee,” he whinges slightly, attempting a new way of annoying you, clearly.

“You’re right, it’s not that bad, but it’s way more fun not to tell you at this point,” you smile brightly at him and his eyes widen in slight shock at the display.

He continues pouting, “Cruel…”

You just shrug at him in response.

⸝⸝⸝

Every time Gojo is around, he is trying to get you to tell him why you were assigned to be his handler. You don’t tell him, you just shrug or smile like you have no idea why, you understand why he likes to tease a bit now, seeing him so upset over something so small does brighten your day just a little bit.

As much as you hate to admit it, you’ve grown fond of his company, as well as the three kids. You thought this would be more hellish, and while on some occasions it is, you quite enjoy your day to days now. Filled with his teasing tone and stupid smile, you’re feeling comfortable with them all.

Your only complaint is that, while this is what you’re expected to be doing most of the time, the fact that sorcerers are hard to come by hangs true and you are still sent on solo missions on a whim. It’s only annoying because you’re expected to come and go easily, like fighting off first-grade or high-grade curses isn’t completely taxing.

Today you enter the classroom slightly later than usual, having been absent since the middle of yesterday, you didn’t even have time to sleep, you showered and came straight here. You mumble an offhanded good morning before collapsing into a chair in the corner of the front of the class.

“Look who decided to show back up,” Gojo chirps.

“Mmm, too loud… too much… so early,” you grumble back.

Itadori asks what no one else does, “Where did you go?”

You sigh into the air, “Ah, I had a job, it’s fine though, here now,” you smile lazily.

Gojo scrutinises you from behind his blindfold, he can tell you’re tired, hell, everyone could tell you’re tired. Your head is barely staying up, almost lolling to the side, looking for somewhere to rest so you can sleep.

“Maybe you should go home,” he comments, uncharacteristically serious.

You peek an eye open at him, they had fallen closed, when did they close? “Can’t.” you mutter out, “I’m needed here, so you don’t do anything stupid.”

“You aren’t going to be able to stop me if you’re asleep,” he retorts.

“No but it won’t look as bad if I am at least here,” you cover your mouth as you yawn.

He moves over to your corner and bends down, “If I promise to behave will you go home?”

“Probably not,” you smirk up at him, “I don’t think I’d believe you.”

Kugisaki groans, “Flirt on your own time!”

You bark a laugh at that, the back and forth you have with Gojo is not how you flirt and you imagine it’s not how he does either, “Yeah, Gojo. Go away.” You say, playing into it.

His smile is light as he turns away from you, “Fine but if you complain about a backache later from sleeping in that chair it’s not my fault.”

“I’m not gonna fall asleep,” you counter.

⸝⸝⸝

You fell asleep.

You don’t know when exactly it happened, you just know it did… and that you’re embarrassed. When you startle awake in your seat, you can hear the distant noises of the students sparring and the breeze flowing through the – previously – closed windows.

“Hey, you’re up,” Gojo notices from his spot, lazing in the students desks.

You sit up a bit more, “How long–”

“–How long were you asleep?” He finishes for you, “A couple hours.”

“Why are you in here?” You ask, “Why aren’t you with the first-years?”

“The first-years are sparring with the second-years, they’re fine,” he too, sits up more, “I stayed cause I didn’t wanna leave you alone in here.”

You raise a brow at him, “That or you just didn’t wanna actually do your job today.”

“Ah, you caught me,” he laughs easily.

“Mhm, thought so,” standing up completely, you stretch out your limbs, joints aching from sleeping in the chair.

“I didn’t think you would also be doing solo missions while being here,” he comments from behind you.

“Well… you know how shorthanded we are,” you walk over to where he’s sitting, “Plus, me being here is almost as much as a punishment for me as it is for you,” you remind.

“That’s funny, I wouldn’t say I feel punished,” he says it like it means nothing, like his feelings aren’t lingering right under the surface.

Thinking on it, you agree, “I don’t much either, I’ve been having quite a bit of fun actually,” you laugh lightly.

Gojo’s world stands still for a moment, he’s been growing addicted to how you smile, the sound of your laugh. He’s lucky for the blindfold because nearly every time he looks at you he has hearts in his eyes.

Noticing his silent staring, you grow shy, rubbing the back of your neck, “Sorry for falling asleep, it won’t happen again.”

He recovers quickly, “No it won’t… because next time, you’re going to go home to sleep properly before showing back up here.”

“Whatever you say, Gojo,” you play it off, not taking him seriously.

“Call me Satoru.”

You’re a little shocked, feeling like you misheard him, you clarify, “I’m sorry, what?”

He gets up from where he’s sitting, “We’ve known each other for years now, call me Satoru.”

You don’t know if you should, it feels weird, like letting him into your life more than he already is and that’s a little much for post nap you, “Maybe…”

He chuckles, “Don’t force yourself, just know, you can if you want to…”

You nod at him, suddenly feeling incredibly bashful.

⸝⸝⸝

You’re cleaning… why are you cleaning? Because you somehow got conned into having Gojo over. Its honestly impressive of him, you have no idea how he convinced you to let him into your home. You barely can even recall the conversation, something about movies, he’s somehow got your favourite movie before the DVD or streaming release.

Anyways, now you’re scrabbling around your meagre apartment, attempting to clean it up to a high standard before you have a guest over. You have time, you have enough time to clean the main areas, yourself, your bedroom… wait, your bedroom (?). Brushing off the thought, you continue your tirade, it ends with just enough time for you to make yourself look presentable.

Knocks in the form of a carefree tune are thumped into your door and you know who it is instantly, even his knocking is distinctly him. Tugging your shirt on, you call out, “Just a sec!”

Pausing in front of the door, you smooth yourself out, like you weren’t just running around like an insane person a few minutes ago, and then you open the door. The sight of Gojo is shocking, it wasn’t what you were expecting… you’ve seen him in casual clothes before, but you think you’ve gotten too used to seeing him at the school.

You mumble out, “You look nice.”

His eyes light up behind his glasses, “Why thank you, you look nice as well.” He speaks lowly on his way past you.

You stand stunned for a little, not expecting his compliment to affect you so much. He’s already walked down the hall while you stood staring at where he once was. Closing the door, you start after him, meeting him in the lounge room.

“You ready?” He asks.

You nod your head, waiting for him to show how he accrued the movie.

“Ta da!” He shows the usb stick, presumedly holding the movie.

You sigh at his jovial display of piracy and grab the thumb drive off him. Gojo makes himself comfortable on the couch while you plug it into the tv.

“You have a cute apartment,” he hums, looking around from where he’s sitting.

Grabbing the remote, you switch through the tv’s sources and search for the content on the stick, “Thank you… I think.”

“It’s a compliment,” he affirms.

You flop down next to him on the couch, “We good to start? Or do you have more to say?”

“I always have more to say,” he grins.

“I’ve noticed,” you snark back, beginning the movie anyways.

It starts off good, the movie’s quality isn’t great but it’s good enough to enjoy the content of the film. That is… until the halfway mark and then the quality drops significantly and you can’t even tell what’s happening on screen anymore, everything fuzzy and words mumbled, almost robotic.

You suppress a smile, “Gojo… where did you get the movie?”

“…Online somewhere… I watched the first few minutes and it looked fiiine,” he’s whinging slightly, disappointed in the sudden quality drop.

You can’t help but laugh at his complete dismay, “It’s fine, Gojo, at least I got to see some of it?” You try looking on the bright side, “You’ll just have to buy me a real copy when it comes out.”

“Is that another invitation?” He teases.

You look over to him, “Another? I barely remember giving out this one.”

“That hurts, you know?” He pouts at you.

You can’t help the way your face breaks out in a smile, “It is.” He looks at you confused, “An invitation,” you finish.

His pout breaks into a large smile, “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you liked me.”

“Ah, you’re beginning to grow on me,” you torment lightly.

He nods his head solemnly, “Knew I would.”

You scoff at him, only now realising how close he’s gotten to you, your knees touching, his face so close to your own. You go to look away from him, feeling self-conscious, but his hand reaches up and pulls your face back to continue the intense eye contact.

“If I kiss you right now, will you try and punch me again?” He jokes, trying to relieve the tension.

You find a place inside you that outweighs your anxiety, “Only one way for you to find out.”

He leans in that tiny bit more and captures your lips in his, the kiss tender and gentle, he’s searching, learning. He doesn’t want to scare you away, wanting to kiss you for so long and not willing to ruin it by spooking you now. It took him so long just to work up the courage to get inside your apartment, he doesn’t want you to pull back when you’ve finally stepped towards him.

He parts first, hesitant, if he keeps kissing you, it won’t stay innocent because he really wants to kiss you until you cry.

You repress a whine at the loss of him, “Wait…” You trail off, embarrassed by how badly you want him to keep kissing you.

“Yeah?” He presses, wanting to hear you ask him for it.

“Can… you kiss me again,” you ask, before adding, “please?”

It’s too good to be true, he’s dreaming… but even if that’s the case, he’s sure as hell not wasting this moment, “Anything for you~”

Leaning back in, he kisses you with more fervour, his lips more insistent, desperate. His one hand stays on your face, angling you so he can kiss you deeper, he wants more, more. The other hand reaches for your hip, tugging and pulling at the fat there, groping your skin greedily.

Your moans and whimpers muffle into his mouth, he swallows them down, licking into your mouth, silently asking for more. Which, you give, you think you’d give him the world right now if you could. His kisses are dizzying and full. You’ve not been kissed like this… ever and it’s overwhelming you in an embarrassing way.

Pulling back, you rush out, “Wait wait…”

Gojo freaks a little, “Shit– sorry, was it too much?”

You shake your head, “No, well…maybe, I’ve just… never been kissed like that before, I was feeling dizzy.”

He breathes a sigh of relief before targeting you with a teasing smile, an evil glint in his eyes, “I’m kissing you dumb, huh?”

You feel hot, everywhere, “I–”

Your defence is cut off with this lips back on yours, he’s drunk on your kisses and he’s not going to stop. Knowing that he’s overwhelming you with them only spurs him on, he wants you to be so stupid because of his lips, he thinks he couldn’t want anything more than that right now.

Your arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer; he lets it happen and falls into you, pressing your back into the couch. On instinct, your legs wrap around his waist, tugging him down into you more, desiring the proximity. His front presses into yours and you both moan into each other.

He trails kisses from your lips to the side of your face, down to your neck, his teeth nipping lightly, sucking into your skin, leaving marks behind, not really caring about how you’ll struggle to cover them tomorrow. You gasp into him and raise your hips, grinding into him without meaning to. The friction has him groaning into the skin of your neck.

His large hand grabs at the thickest part of your thigh, grabbing and pulling your covered cunt closer to his clothed dick. His hips dig down into yours, humping into you and trying to fight off the urge to cum in his pants at the minimal amount of stimulation.

He huffs against your sensitive skin, “Bet you’re so fucking wet, fuck–”

“Gojo–”

He cuts you off, “–Lemme… lemme touch you more, please.”

You nod at him, eyes glassy from how he kissed you, “Uh huh, do– do whatever you want~”

His hand is immediately leaving your thigh and reaching into the front of your pants, under your panties and through your dripping folds, a shiver running down his back as he groans deeply. He had a feeling you were wet but fuck– he wasn’t expecting this.

You sob a moan into the collar of his shirt where you’ve tucked your head, his fingers glide through your slick, teasing you, lightly grazing your clit.

His tone is light, “So eager~”

“Don’t t–tease, it’s unkind,” you try to chastise him.

He smiles at you, it’s dark but full, as a single finger probes at your entrance, slipping in carefully, aided fully by the amount of slick that gushes from your pussy, “So messy,” he hums, nosing the side of your face, giggling at the whimper you let out.

“Gojo–”

“–I think…” his finger slips to the hilt, pulling back before fucking back in, wet squelching sounding through your small apartment, “…I’ve earned Satoru, when I’m knuckles deep in your pretty, little cunt.”

If you thought you were hot before, you definitely were now, “Satoru, please.”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that,” his cock jerks in his pants at the sound of you finally calling him by his name.

Your small gasps and sighs are setting his skin on fire, a light flush dusting his features, he still wants more from you, he wants to hear it all, he wants to feel it all, he wants to see it all. Deciding he’s had enough of your clothes, he slips his finger from deep in your cunt, which results in the prettiest, wrecked sound coming from you.

“Just a sec, need these off…” he tugs your pants down and off, leaving you in your panties, he hums in thought at you, “…These are cute,” he points out, looking at to the lacy garment decorating your lower half, “Expecting something to happen?”

You shake your head no, not loving the accusation that you planned this, “No, I just… didn’t have anything else…”

“Convenient,” he comments, taking notice of how completely ruined they are, wet from your arousal pooling in them. He pulls the side of them away from your skin, only to let it slap back against you, enjoying the way you squirm under him, “I think I’ll leave these on.”

He continues undressing you though, tugging off your shirt, your bra following along soon after. You feel so exposed compared to his fully dressed form. His cock strains against his pants though, sitting heavy against the zipper of his jeans. The sight makes you salivate but he takes no notice.

“I gotta get my mouth on you, pretty thing,” he murmurs more to himself than you, since you’re not really thinking at this point, only squirming under him and trying to rub your thighs together.

He shuffles down between your legs, spreading them apart further and tossing them over his shoulder. Drawing your panties to the side, he presses his face into your cunt, inhaling deeply, the act makes you jump and whinge out his name, shocked by the completely debauched display.

“Satoru~”

He doesn’t reply, not with words, he mumbles into your pussy and licks a long stipe from your hole to your clit before licking back down. His tongue pushing into your cunt with the desperation of a starved man. His nose presses against your clit and he moves his head side to side slightly, stimulating it.

You moan and whimper into the air, fingers finding purchase in his hair, needing something to tug onto while he eats you out in the messiest way possible. There is no finesse, he’s sloppily making out with your cunt, drinking down all the arousal that leaks from you eagerly.

Your thighs begin shaking beside his head and he holds you tighter, his head moving back and forth quickly, shaking it, trying to force your orgasm from you. The feeling of his blunt nails digging into your soft skin and the way he groans so unrestrained into your pussy has you cumming on his face very suddenly.

Your stomach twists as your cunt clenches around Gojo’s tongue, your mind lost in how good you feel. Not registering the sound of your moans or the sounds of his mouth lapping at you in the most lewd manner, it should be embarrassing how wet you are for him but you can’t seem to care when it feels this good.

He’s unrelenting, licking and mouthing at your sensitive pussy until you start twitching away from him and pulling on his hair harshly, wordlessly tell him it’s too much.

“Perfect,” he turns his face to the side and mumbles into your thigh, nipping at the skin, delighting in the way your body jerks, “Got an absolutely perfect cunt.” He says shamelessly.

“Gojo!”

He looks up at you through his lashes, “Ah, back to Gojo now?” he leans up and back onto his knees, tugging his shirt over his head and discarding it with the rest of your clothes, “No worries, I’ll fix that real soon.”

The sound of his belt clinking and zipper undoing brings you out of your thoughts, temporarily disarmed by the sudden exposure of his skin. He doesn’t bother taking them off completely, just shirking them down enough to free his painfully erect cock.

Your gaze gets lost in the sight of his dick, leaking thick globs of precum from the tip down his shaft. His hand tugging lazily at it, spreading his own mess everywhere, slicking it up for you. Wet sounds of his hand languidly fucking his cock makes your skin prick. How he’s going to fit you aren’t sure, the size of him is daunting.

He smiles when you look back in his eyes, “There she is.” He leans down over you, “I know I have a really nice dick but let’s try and stay focused, pretty, hmm?”

It’s condescending and egotistical of him to say but you can’t fight the shiver that runs down your spine at his words, “Gojo, you have a massive–”

“–Dick? Yeah I know,” he smiles cheekily at you.

You finish your previous interrupted statement, “I was gonna say ego.”

“Two things can be true at once,” he presses a kiss to your forehead, “You ready for this?”

“I don’t think I could ever be ready for this,” you retort.

“Way to boost a guys ego,” he chuckles at your comment.

You grab the side of his face, “Not that you need it.” You murmur before pulling him down for another kiss, missing the feel of his lips on yours.

He licks into your mouth straight away; you can taste yourself on his tongue. You feel like you could float away, not knowing how you’ve gone your whole life without being kissed like this. Your thighs are back on either side of his hips again, your need to be filled growing by the second.

Pulling back, he sits up so he can watch himself enter your tight pussy. He’s not denying himself this view, not when he’s imagined it so many times before. He rubs his cock through your folds a few times, relishing in your small jumps and moans. He needs it wet; it needs to be so fucking wet if he even dreams of fucking his cock all the way inside you.

“I’m gonna need you to relax for me and remember to breathe if you wanna take it all,” he says it so seriously, and if you hadn’t seen his dick you would’ve assumed he was just stroking his own ego for the sake of it.

You nod at him, “Got it, now please,” your hips wiggle slightly, enticing him.

“I got ya,” he smirks, pushing forward slightly.

The tip of him is a lot, your cunt stretching to take it, the ache dulled by the absolute messy state of your pussy and the thumb Gojo is pressing into your clit. He intakes a sharp breath at the snug fit of your cunt, his hips jerking forward mindlessly, a groan pulled from deep in him, while you whimper pathetically.

Your breath stutters and you’re struggling, grip on his cock impossibly tight, through gritted teeth, he reminds, “Hey, hey… breathe yeah? You gotta –fuck– you gotta breathe for me, pretty.”

Collecting yourself, you attempt to take deep breaths, they come out stuttered but the punishing grip you had on him eases, “Almost had me fucking cumming, geez…” he laughs lightly at it but he would’ve been beyond embarrassed if he came with only his tip inside of you, he’d never live it down.

“You can –hah– you can move,” you stammer out.

He double checks, “You sure?”

Your eyes are so wet and your voice is wrecked when you add, “Please.”

An evil smile takes its place on his face, “Why were you assigned to work with me?”

“Gojo, not now,” your words break off into a whine, you sound so pathetic, you do not have the upper hand here.

“Mmm? You want me to stuff you full? Tell me the reason,” he leans down slightly, cock slipping just that tiny bit more into you.

Ignoring him, your wrap your legs tighter around his waist and try fucking up onto him, it works for the one second that he lets it and then one of his large hands is reaching down and slamming your hips back into the couch cushions.

“Come on, pretty,” his breath wafts against the side of your face, his lips tickling your ear, “You really gonna waste time being stubborn?”

“You’re the stubborn one,” you argue.

He hums noncommittally, almost like you proved his point for him, “Come on, I can feel you fucking pulsing around me, just tell me what you did~”

“I– I… I didn’t listen to an order on a mission and almost got myself killed,” you pout out, breathing laboured.

He tsks at you, disapproving of your actions, “You really should be more careful,” he kisses beside your ear, “And listen to your seniors more.” It goes without saying that, that includes him. You suspect he’s mostly talking about himself; he has no respect for the current hierarchy.

“Gojo, you said you would–”

He tilts his head at you, “–I did but now knowing how reckless you were, I can’t help but want to punish you a bit more…”

Your waterline fills with tears at the frustration, your pussy fluttering on the barely two inches he has sat inside you, how he’s holding out so well you have no idea because you’re about to fucking cry.

Your voice is embarrassing to even your own ears, “Satoru, please, more.”

“Ah, well when you ask like that, how can I say no?” He’s acting as if he’s taking mercy on you and not like his dick didn’t twitch violently at you using his name again.

Slowly, he pushes into you, stopping every now and again to let you adjust and reminding you to just breathe through it. Something Gojo has realised is, your cunt is so reactive to him, the words he speaks, the hand he has on your hip, the kisses he presses into the side of your head, all of it has you spasming around him and every time you do, it feels like a gut punch to him.

It’s addictive and also world shattering, he doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to last when he actually starts fucking into you. The little noises you make don’t help either, how on earth is he meant to last more than a minute inside you?

Eventually, he bottoms out, the both of you moaning at the relief, your legs nearly kick at the sensation of how deep inside you he is, “Satoru, move?”

He bites out, “Give me a second.” He’s fighting the primal urge to cum inside you right now.

You whine under him, hips twitching, using the minimal amount of space to grind your pelvis into his. Your pussy stutters around him at the stimulation on your clit and he groans loudly at it, his orgasm on the tip of his tongue.

He forces your hips down and still again, pinning you to the couch with his own, “You’re so impatient. Do you want this to be over now? You want me to cum after only being fully inside you for a minute?”

You shake your head at him, the feral look in his eyes making your stomach do flips, your pussy gushing around him.

He laughs dryly, “Fuck, I can’t do a single thing without turning you on more, huh?”

You look away from him, embarrassment reaching a new pique with that comment, “Not nice, Satoru.”

“Not a bad thing, pretty,” he noses your cheek, realising how he said it harshly without meaning it that way, “Huge compliment, knowing you react this way to me is fucking perfect but it also has me on the edge of finishing prematurely.”

Turning your head back to him, you look him in the eyes and he swears he sees heaven because you have tears trailing down your cheeks and your eyes are blown and wet and he’s gonna finish if he keeps looking at you. So, instead, he leans in and kisses you deep, getting lost in the taste and feel of your mouth.

The small reprieve helps and he begins thrusting his hips back and forth, his cock leaving and entering you with the most obscene noises he’s ever heard. It’s such a fucking mess, leaking out of you, down your thighs and onto your nice couch. And even if he really tried, he couldn’t give a fuck, not when your cunt is so slick and warm and wrapping around him like it was made for him.

The sounds you let out are cute but muffled against his mouth, he settles for swallowing them down but he’d really rather hear them loud and clear. You flutter around him so beautifully, everything you do is perfect to him and you laying here while he shoves you full of his fat cock is no different.

He pulls away from your lips to hear the noises you make for him, “Cute,” he comments offhandedly, not even sure if you hear the contents of his words. He only knows you hear his voice because your cunt clenches down on him at the sound.

You cry out to him, “S’toru~”

“Ah, you’re so fucking close aren’t you,” the smile on his face is huge and wolfish, excited to feel you cum all over him, looking forward to literally nothing else.

You try to verbalise it, “I– mm –mmph–”

“Go on, let yourself gush all over me, wanna fucking feel it, pretty,” his words are sharp against your ear.

His hips increase their pace, slamming down into you more forcefully, his pelvis grinding into your clit harshly. Your eyes cross into the back of your head, neck lolling back bonelessly, choppy, whimpered sounds leave you. Your fingers claw at his biceps, leaving behind angry marks. Gojo’s hands have a death grip on your hips, bruised marks will definitely be left behind in their wake.

A particularly sharp thrust and loud whine from Gojo has you cumming under him, your pussy gripping him tight as your cum leaks from you sloppily, his cock coated in it. Creamy ring left at the base of his cock as he continues thrusting mercilessly.

His abs pull taut, his resolve finally breaking now that he’d finally felt you finish on him, “Where you want it?”

“Inside, please Satoru,” your words are mumbled and breathy.

“Fuuuuuck.”

He’s lucky you said that because your words have him cumming on the spot, thick ropes of his cum being forced deep inside your little cunt. It leaks out around the base of him, even as he presses deep into you, his pelvis tight against yours, riding out his high by grinding into you slightly. The stimulation making your cunt jump around him as he hisses at the slight overstimulation he’s forcing himself into.

You both huff, gasping greedily for air after your intense highs, the room filled with nothing but silence and your haste breaths. Eventually, you both even out and lay there quietly, Gojo pressed against you with his cock still snug inside your pussy.

“Gojo, you’re heavy,” you tell him.

He laughs, “Right, sorry.”

Leaning back, he slowly pulls his dick from you, both hissing at it. His eyes are fixated on the way his cum slips from your hole, his heart hammering in his chest at the sight, obsessing over how hot it is that you took so much of him. He slips your panties back into place, letting them keep his cum inside you.

“You did so good,” he praises you suddenly.

It makes you feel bashful, “So did you…” you mumble out.

A loud laugh results from him, “Thank you,” he says, his eyes crinkled in a large smile.

Gojo cleans the pair of you up, tucking you carefully into your bed and holding you close as you fight to keep your eyes open, “Will you still be here when I wake up?”

“Do you want me to be?” He questions lightly, trying not to expect anything from you.

“…Yes, I’d like it a lot if you stayed, I think.” You admit shyly.

“Then I’ll be here,” he presses himself into you closer, enjoying the warmth radiating off of you.

You don’t think this was in your job description…

PLAGIARISM NOT CONDONED | REPOSTS NOT AUTHORISED

#gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojou x reader #gojou x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader smut #jjk x reader #visionwrites

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mo0nfairy · 2 years ago

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😍😍 OMG, I'm gonna be needing a part four to that Leon post stat.

(Love your writing it's amazing just like you are) ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎

part 1. part 2. part 3.

tw :: re4 spoilers, obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, violence, knives, tasers, guns, explosives, framing, murder, abuse of power, death of a character, physical restrainment, noncon touching, thoughts of suicide, being knocked unconscious, shit goes down basically.

⸺ thank u, honeybaby !!!!! i've been vv busy these past few days, but this man has been HEAVY on my mind. i've also been listening to playing dangerous by our lord and savior lana del rey on repeat and it had my brain conjuring up some ideas... (also this part is long so buckle up friends)

you see, you've been praying everyday to earn back those damned memories that slipped from your mind 6 years ago. but in a attempt to do so, all you can feel is a gun against your head, an explosion against your body, and dust permeating your lungs. all before the classic cut to black welcomes you. no crying mouse-ley, no crying guard-dog. just empty darkness. through the abyss, however, you are now able to unveil memories that were buried deep within you. and whether the return of these past events is a good thing or not is up to you.

you remember a late august evening. the cool air and descending leaves would calm you, but your current circumstances prevent you from any serenity. an anonymous tip to the RPD claimed that you were in possession of illegal substances. and somehow, those said drugs had magically appeared into existence within your home. this leaves you here, being driven to the station by the officer of the month, marvin branagh. despite everything, you're grateful marvin was the one to arrest you. you happen to favor him and his basic understanding of boundaries, as opposed to a certain mutt you know far too well.

it's safe to say you've now got quite the reputation in the RPD with how much trouble you get into. and especially with how quickly the problems seem to fade away. you're being escorted through the station until another officer complains to marvin about some kids with fake ID's. he leaves you by yourself at an empty desk with one hand cuffed to the armrest. the desk right beside leon's. you look to the blonde beside you. his head is rested against his arms folded upon his desk, deep in slumber. his cheek is squished against the surface of his arm, pushing his lips out into a duck-like pout. your mugshot peeks out from beneath his sleeping form. you swear through his unintelligible murmuring, you hear a gentle whimper of your name. marvin had mentioned during the drive how he was up all night looking through your case (wouldn't be the first time), but you can't find it in yourself to feel bad for him. you don't trust him. even several years ago, something within you has always prevented you from trusting him.

you fiddle with a mr. raccoon toy as 20 minutes slowly tread by. completely overcome with boredom, you peak over leon's shoulder to see your case file beneath him. maybe you could find something useful inside, like the bastard responsible for all these false claims. using your free hand, you manage to slyly slip your case folder from under his weight. not without a quiet whine of "no, y/n/n... don't leave me..." good god, was he cuddling your mugshot? (it would be the closest he could get to you physically, after all). you ignore him entirely, thanking the heavens that this man is such a deep sleeper.

opening the file, you find standard information about your case. you read through the notes leon left behind, which causes nausea to then stir in your stomach. he jotted down his worries of your case closing and not being able to keep you in the station any longer; there was ideas of any potential loopholes in the system he could take advantage of and prove your innocence. beside his rambling, there was a long list of certain ways he can frame you for crimes to reel you back into his clutches. what in the actual fuck? and just when you thought this situation couldn't get worse, you find he used pictures of your friends at the shooting range, bullet holes piercing through their paper faces.

you read through the evidence in shock, until a sickeningly-sweet tone gasps your name and pulls you out of your trance. you look over the folder to see those familiar blue eyes peering into yours. leon lights up like a golden retriever with a bone when he wakes up and you're the first thing he sees, metaphorical tail wagging and all. to dream of you and to be the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes, it is pure heaven! only, instead of the early morning, love-drunk haze within his dreams, he is instead met with the heartbreaking look of horror on your face. his eyes trail down to see you holding his notes and his heart sinks to the pit of his stomach. no, no, no, it wasn't supposed to be like this! it was never supposed to be like this! you were supposed to fall in love with him! you are supposed to be with him forever!

you are supposed to love him! you have to!

and you thought you've seen the worst, you thought you reached the bottom of the iceberg. but you were so, so wrong. it had been 2 weeks since you learned the truth about leon. since then, you were able to find solace within an old friend, claire redfield. not only do you adore her, but the layer of protection she had given you when you complained about the clingy cop on your hip was just the cherry on top. without leon, these 14 days were the most peace you have felt in what feels like months. you didn't know how the man who acted like he needed your presence more than air felt about this sudden separation. and to be completely honest, you didn't really care.

now, with your arm hooked around claire's, you two walk home after a night out in raccoon city. you're repeating old inside jokes and clutching your chest in heaps of rib-straining laughter. everything is full of high-spirits until you notice a certain cop car sitting in the street. claire enters your estate first, guarding you protectively while you follow her footsteps. you find (you guessed it!) no other than leon kennedy rummaging through your belongings. and the look on leon's face when he sees you with someone else is nothing short of pure anguish, sheer betrayal. he is jealous — so much so that it practically suffocates the room. you've seen plenty of emotions expressed by leon and the consequences that followed, but you've never seen first-hand what jealousy may compel him to do. considering the pictures of your friends he used as target practice, you feel as though the outcome won't be any good.

claire breaks the silence, "you disgusting pig! i'm calling my brother down here and he's gonna kick your-" her roar of anger is cut off with a sharp groan.

leon stands, taser gun in hand, as the electrodes strike into claire's body. she then falls to the ground with a loud thump, her form convulsing from the electric shocks waving through her. rushing to her side, you attempt to help her. but, you then cave into yourself when leon walks over in three large strides. and you now realize he is absolutely terrifying when he is jealous. his voice drops to a low husk as he demands you tell him who the fuck this is, a major contrast to the bubbly-puppy you're grown familiar with. you are left flabbergasted and are unable to mutter even a syllable.

you aren't even granted a mere second to compose of yourself before leon pulls a knife, plunging it deep into claire's chest. a scream of pure terror erupts from your throat. you're painted red as he relentlessly stabs your best friend, curling yourself into a corner and hiding your face in your arms. through your tear-stained vision, you see the lifeless body of claire and leon standing above her, huffing with fury like some blood-thirsty creature. something in his gaze perceptibly softens when he sees you, so scared and feeble. and it shatters his heart. after all, leon would take every life on planet earth just to see your lips curl into a smile, even once more. but, nothing could have prepared you for the words that would then leave his mouth.

he turns his body cam on. "y/n l/n, you are under arrest for the murder of... whoever this was. you have the right to remain silent. anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." you stare at leon entirely flabbergasted, but you're too exhausted to fight against him.

he bends down to you, light whispers of "you're ok, it wasn't your fault" and "i've got you, sweet angel" doing little to comfort you. with his gentle hands against you, leon proceeds to cuff you with the same softness you would use to handle a baby bird. and you let him take you away, because you are too caught up in looking at your best friend who was laughing with you just minutes ago now dead on the ground. you cry to yourself in the backseat of the cop car the whole way to the station.

by the time you get there, you are entirely in a state of shock. tears of dread stream down your cheeks, but your face is nothing short of emotionless. you are so caught up in your head, you don't even notice the whispers of other officers there. they gossip about how considering your track record, it's no wonder you'd end up here for good. a sharp glare from the man guiding you through the department is enough for them to shut their mouths. you're then brought into an interrogation room, with cameras off and no other presence besides you and this mad-man at your beck and call.

cuffed to a chair once again, leon locks the door behind him. he then drops to his knees and ties his arms around your waist, burying his head into you. it takes several seconds for reality to hit you, but you soon realize he is crying. and if you weren't restrained currently, you would've pushed him off and made him suffer a fate far worse than what claire endured. now, the two of you are sobbing together, but for entirely different reasons. you, full of grief over someone you love being murdered just moments ago. leon, full of agony over how the gleam of emotion he was so infatuated with left your eyes. all because of him.

you muster enough strength to plead to the blonde, your voice coming out through hoarse, slurred sniffles. but much to your dismay, your cries fall on deaf ears. if only leon had more morality than he did love for you.

"i'm so sorry, y/n, i just needed to hold you. even for just one last time” he picks his head up to look at you, face breaking out in a pitiful smile. “and i can't lose you. not again.” he grabs hold of your hands from behind your back and begins caressing the digits of your fingers. and the contrast between his smile and the crazed look in his eyes has you shuddering in apprehension.

"you're stuck with me to the end."

your eyes then flutter open to see a blinding white light; you begin to hear the quiet chant of a monitor beside you. where the hell am i? despite your current confusion, all you can think about is how you grieved for your best friend in the grimy cells of the RPD, how everyone turned into undead creatures just a week later, and how leon protected you from anything as small as a paper cut. you remember how several zombies overpowered him and how you took advantage of the opportunity, running like hell away and out of raccoon city. you remember the burning of your lungs, the rain on your skin, the hope of getting far, far away from this nightmare. you also remember the fear you felt when umbrella snatched you into their possession, to where you would soon forget everything that happened. including leon kennedy.

you're in the present now, as you can tell by the sheepskin jacket around your form and the hospital bed you're laid upon. it takes you too long to realize that you're safe, out of the hellhole that is los iluminados. looking down, you find a gun sitting by your hip (leon made the declaration that if you were to never wake up again, he wouldn't hesitate to end it all right then and there). you shift your train of sight to see leon at your bedside with his head in his hands while his entire body trembles with trepidation. the sight of this lovesick maniac at your side causes you to spring forward with a harsh gasp. his heartbeat skyrockets at the sudden occurrence. you're alive, and leon can't stop the tears of relief that fall from his eyes.

"hi, pretty... i'm here, you're safe now..." the smile on his face is borderline terrifying. his hands cup your face, practically clinging onto you like a lifeline.

"i remember... i remember everything..." the statement is entirely said to yourself, your gaze distant and not entirely there.

his eyebrows scrunch upwards, gaze softening (if it can even soften more than it already has). leon then pulls your face to his and molds his lips against yours aggressively, desperately. it isn't soft, sweet, or romantic in any sense. it is inexperienced, but overflowing with raw passion, need, and obsession. he only stops when the two are you are breathless and gasping for air. a dreamy sigh escapes leon's lips once he parts from you, gazing into your eyes as if you were something holy (which you are, obvi, but i digress). leon is so horrifically, irrevocably, disgustingly in love with you. and you can feel everything in his all-too overwhelming kiss.

he then engulfs you and melts into your arms like a noodle in boiling water. his light-headed, lovesick laughter fans against your neck. leon somehow pulls you impossibly closer to him, almost as if he were trying to morph the two of you together. it is too much; he is all you can feel, smell, touch. but, without a sliver of strength in your body, you are entirely vulnerable to him and his captivation.

"ashley... she didn't make it..." there’s a certain tone in leon's voice you can’t explain, but you shudder beneath it, anyway. he tells the information softly, but his voice is full of too much exhilaration to be normal. with these newfound memories, that dread returns to your stomach at the thought of what leon is capable of. what leon may have done to ashley while you were out cold.

through the abyssal darkness, your wish has been granted. you have now retrieved all lost memories.

and now, you know why you never were able to trust leon kennedy.

the end !! hehe, thanks for the fun ride babes.

HOWEVER……….. this is surely not the end of my resident evil stained brainrot. so i will not be continuing this series, but i will most certainly be pouring out everything in my RE-obsessed brain. only if u would like to see it, of course. if u do, pls send me some asks!! and thank u again !!!

#this is the end hehe #resident evil 4 #re4 #re4 remake #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #yandere leon kennedy #yandere resident evil #yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #venus’ brain #moonfairy

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scoonsalicious · 10 months ago

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Unwanted: Chapter 13, Uncomfortable - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Sadness, realizations.

Word Count: 633

Previously On...: A phone call in the middle of the night sends Bucky to Jade's side at the med bay to help her through a "panic attack," which you're sure she's faking. You warn Bucky that if he keeps going to her, you might not be willing to take him back.

A/N: I didn't realize some of these parts were so short. They were difficult to write, so they took a lot of time, and therefore seemed longer. I feel like I'm drawing out the inevitable, and I probably am. I'm sorry!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @sashaisready @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @doublejeon @pattiemac1

When you woke up a few hours later, Bucky wasn’t back. You checked your phone. It was well past the time you’d planned on leaving to go Upstate, not that you were surprised. He’d text you, apologizing, telling you that Jade was too emotionally distraught to be left alone for the time being, but he promised to be back soon, and you’d still make your trip. You knew the promise was hollow. You didn’t believe he was sleeping with her, not really, but the situation was becoming untenable. You’d always said you would never try to control who he could or couldn’t be friends with, but you began to wonder if it was time for an ultimatum. The idea of imposing one sat poorly with you; it wasn’t the kind of girlfriend you wanted to be, but you felt he was leaving you no choice anymore. Every boundary you had asked him to keep with her, she’d somehow find a way to push him past.

He wasn’t blameless in the situation, you knew that. You knew he loved you, wanted to be with you, but how many chances could you give him to put you first, only to have him fail you? He wasn’t doing it on purpose; he was a genuinely good person who saw someone who had suffered as he had, and who wanted to provide support in a way that had been denied to him, but he was doing it at the expense of your relationship, your heart, your fucking sanity. He was taking you for granted, assuming that you’d always forgive him. And why wouldn’t he? You’d done it each and every time before.

You got up and got dressed, trying to find a use for your time so that you weren’t incessantly staring at the clock, waiting for Bucky to finally decide to make time for you. You suddenly remembered the request that Sam had made of you the night before– that you check the Tower’s systems to see if Jade had attempted to access anything that might set up red flags.

Grabbing your laptop, you made your way to the kitchen to grab a bagel and glass of juice before curling up on a chaise lounge in the common room and began working. It was going to be a time consuming task; the Tower’s systems were massive, but you’d built a good portion of them yourself, so it was a lot like wandering the forest in your own backyard.

Hours later, you were rubbing your eyes, regretting that you had left your glasses in your room. The sun was low in the sky, hovering just above the city skyline. Standing up to stretch, you cracked your neck and lower back before shooting off a text to Sam.

>>Just ran a check of the Tower systems for Jade’s footprint.

Ole Sammy: And???? Don’t leave me hangin in suspense, Baby Girl!

>> And, nothing screaming ENEMY AGENT.

>> She accessed Bucky’s unlocked files.

>> Like, a lot.

Ole Sammy: Creepy, but not surprising.

>> No, considering she’s fucking obsessed with him.

Ole Sammy: Unless…

>> Unless what, Samuel?

Ole Sammy: Nothing. Just a thought. Probably nothing. Don’t worry about it.

>> Stop being cryptic. Tell me.

Ole Sammy: Not unless I have proof to back it up. I don’t want to make accusations without evidence. Bitch’s scary AF. Besides, she could kick my ass.

>> Pretty sure I could kick your ass.

Ole Sammy: Only if I didn’t have my wings!

>> Not the flex you think it is.

Ole Sammy: How’s Upstate?

>> Wouldn’t know. Jade had a ‘panic attack’ in the night and has needed Bucky by her side ever since.

Ole Sammy: That dumb ass mother fucker! How much longer you gonna put up with this shit, Baby Girl?

>> I’ll talk to you later, Sam.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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littlest-bugz · 9 days ago

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Was I supposed to know that???

[a non-definitive list of things I wish I had known in early CDD system discovery]

When you are first discovering your system, or are just finding out you have some form of CDD [complex dissociative disorder], things can be really confusing and scary. Memories and Alters may surface, you might get more dissociative symptoms [or become aware of them], and just a bunch more that adds to a feeling of disorientation with your own life and identity. Things are uncertain and stressful, but I assure you, everything is okay and you will come out on top of things safely!

In the beginning of rediscovering my own system in 2021, I was really lost because I didn't turn to the internet for resources or go to professionals for help. I was almost entirely in the blind when I was getting to know my system! I didn't interact with any other systems or seek out CDD specific advice and care until December of 2023. That's all to say I was in a similar position as you may be. I was quite lost, confused, and scared as I was coming to terms with the fact that I, as an alter, did not have full control over the body and what we did, and that my memory could, and had, fail me. It was just an uncertain time, but now that I'm into recovery, I know that there are things that would've helped me going into system discovery...

If you're an already discovered system [i.e. you already know and have established contact], maybe you will learn something new or maybe you will come out with a new outlook on something! Or it might not help at all! Which is okay because everyone is different!

That being said... Strap in! this post is EXTREMELY long! [this is not an understatement- this post is criminally long]

Notes : Before I jump into the numerous points of this post, I have to preface this post with the fact of this post may be discouraging at times. I'm being so serious, but in my opinion, this post has important points. The only issue is that what I'm saying can come across as negative or fakeclaim-y, but I am not fake claiming anyone in this post! Do not take what I say personally!! I don't know who's reading this! You could be my best friend or a stranger from across the world! So you have to remember to take things with a grain of salt because, as you'll see immediately in the first point you know you better than anyone else does. I do not know you personally, nor do I know your system or situation. Take what resonates with you, and leave the rest, if that makes sense? Just hear me out before you dismiss this post as not worth your time.

Now we can actually get into the post!

-> DO NOT LET SOCIAL MEDIA WARP YOUR PERCEPTION OF CDDS OR YOUR SYSTEM

This is more a warning than the rest of this post because this is THE MOST important part of early system discovery. While I did not personally engage in most social medias during my own system discovery, this is a point I know will be important for others, especially those in early system discovery... But what do I mean by this?

Well, for starters, this is the main reason why a lot of systems struggle with validating themselves and their system. It is not healthy to compare your system to other systems. It is not healthy to look at other systems, not relate, and think that somehow means you're not a 'real system'. While sharing experiences and discussing your system, as well as listening to the experiences of other systems, is beneficial, comparing yourself to other systems will make you feel like shit. This is where a majority of posts dealing with invalidity come from. You let the internet and misinformation to shape how you view systemhood as a whole.

The notion that a large alter count is invalid is from social media.

The notion that a system is 'too complex' is from social media.

The notion that there is such a thing as too many introjects is from social media.

Seriously, I could go on. These do not matter at all, and those are not the only examples I have seen [just the most common]. Having a complex system, being introject heavy, and/or having a large system are all seen in scientific material, so the notion that it somehow makes you invalid is based in comparison and social media misinformation. You need to keep your head on your shoulders when interacting with social media, or you will damage your relationship with systemhood. Not to mention, you may internalize misinformation!

For some, not comparing themselves to others is MUCH easier said than done. I used to be one of those people! And I still am sometimes! but that's something I am working on. Which... For the sake of not only you as an alter, but also your system, I am seriously suggesting you to work on validating yourself via self help or a therapist. From one system to another, working on this will limit your denial phases and imposter syndrome. Like I said before, I'm a chronic compare-er, but when I learned to validate myself and my system, I no longer go through denial phases as a collective. Self Validation is the biggest key to flourishing as not only as a system, but also a key to thriving in life. Obviously validation from other's isn't harmful in any capacity and is very much required to flourish as a person too, but you seriously shouldn't give a fuck about people online who try to invalidate your system or system structure. Let me repeat that in a more direct way...

YOU KNOW YOU BETTER THAN SOME ASSHOLE ON THE INTERNET.

You know you even better than me too! Obviously!

With self validation, I will not leave you empty handed because simply saying "do this" is not enough for this point. I'll give you a few links and resources that will help kickstart your journey into self validation while discovering your system.

Here's my self-help link masterlist for self validation [this is a link]

-> POINT ONE ALSO INCLUDES AVOIDING SYSCOURSE.

I cannot stress how bad syscourse is for you, especially in early system discovery. From what I have seen from the very few syscourse blogs I follow, as well as mutuals and friends i talk to, it is draining and harmful for your mental health. I don't personally believe in engaging with syscourse, so I avoid it when I can- maybe I'll read a post or two, but I don't throw myself or system into it. I can imagine debating can be fun, but most syscourse is not real debating. Emphasis on *most* because I have seen real debate in syscourse spaces. Sadly though, the majority of posts I see within syscourse tags are either riddled with misinformation- from both of the sides of syscourse- or are filled with unwarranted vitriol [again, from both sides]. Not to mention the MANY posts of well researched systems just tiredly correcting the same things over and over and over again. My advice? Ignore it! Just stick to the silly memes, text posts, ask games, and informational posts. If later, when you feel more secure in your system and you want to engage with it, I support that! Just avoid it in the beginning.

-> Trauma is the response to the event, NOT the event

Thankfully, I've seen this talked about more than once in the system community, but I think it's important to talk about this here too. In order to explain this point properly, we have to discuss what trauma is. So... what is trauma?

" [Psychological] Trauma is the unique individual experience of an event or enduring conditions, in which: 1. The individual's ability to integrate his/her emotional experience is overwhelmed, or 2. The individual experiences (subjectively) a threat to life, bodily integrity, or sanity. (Pearlman & Saakvitne, 1995, p. 60) " [source]

What does this mean in the context of CDDs?

For one, a lot of systems have a hard time seeing certain traumas as traumatic for whatever reason, and for two, it's important to be reminded of this fact when going through system discovery. It's very common to be dissociated from all or most of your trauma in some fashion, whether it be emotional amnesia or black out amnesia. That means it doesn't 'feel' traumatic or there just isn't anything there. As you go through system discovery, its very highly likely that you, or your alters, will uncover trauma of some kind. Whether it be examples of emotional neglect or specific traumas, but sometimes it can be hard to accept that it was trauma or that you went through whatever. It's also common for people to misconstrue that trauma is a specific type of event when it just. is not. A lot of things can be traumatic, and someone's reaction to the same trauma will even be different.

TW: Car Crash talk, but nothing graphic.

I'll give you an example. Imagine four people got into a car crash together. Each person will have a unique response to that event. The driver becomes deeply traumatized and can never step foot in a car, the front passenger finds a weird thrill in it and seeks out similar experiences, back passenger one is traumatized but able to work through it, and the final passenger walks out fine, with no trauma. This is an example of that fact- that everyone reacts differently to the same or a similar event. One person can be deeply traumatized by, let's say, bullying, but another person may learn how to not care about what people think.

Trauma is unique to you, and you alone. What you find traumatic will not be exactly the same as another person.

I will say there are exceptions I can think of where it is always traumatic for a child, but it applies there too. Each child's response to a certain trauma is unique. This point kind of lines up perfectly with the next point because the very common misconception that trauma IS the event is built in misinformation and social media comparison [there it is again].

-> You should do your own research, but keep in mind some of the information you will find about CDDs may be outdated or filled with misinformation.

This is also important when you're getting to know your system because the first step to system discovery is doing research on your diagnosis or suspected disorder. It can help with validation because it is an external source of it! Seeing a medical paper or article that describes symptoms that align with yours is super validating! Not to mention seeing more than just one? It's amazing how much it truly helps with validation! HOWEVER. I would also extend your research into other dissociative disorders [such as DR/DP, P-DID, OSDD etc], as well as Maladaptive Daydreaming, since you may find co-morbidities or that your experience lines up better with another disorder. This is not to say you AREN'T a system, but it is an important point to bring up. It can just be that you have a different type of system than you thought! For example, believing you're an OSDD system, only to discover with research that your experience aligns more with DID.

This leads into the fact that when you're doing research on DID or any other of the CDDs that exist, you are likely to encounter misinformation, whether it be outdated information in articles or reading something on tumblr that just isn't factual! This can be confusing and mess up your ideas on what a system might look like or present as. It can even affect how you view your own system! That's why you have to do your own research! Researching can even bring validation to your experience when you research CDDs!

I will provide a few cursory resources that you may want to read as you begin researching! Keep in mind that these links do NOT account for full, proper research. This is just your kickstart!

Here's the masterlist of cursory DID research links [this is a link]

I will also add that looking into other's experience with CDDs is also a part of research! It's important to look into the experiences of other systems, but keep in mind the first point regarding self validation and comparison.

-> Identity, even in CDDs, is fluid.

A very basic and simple sum up of what DID is:

DID is the result of an inability to integrate the facets of an individuals personality during early childhood, usually due to multiple trauma-based reactions [such as neglect, abuse, natural disaster, war and other adverse experiences]. (Thank u Circ for ur help!!)

... and why do I bring this up?

Within a person who has integrated, and therefor does not have a CDD, those facets all still exist. The only difference is that they are more cohesive and as one, but all the facets are are still there. Identity within EVERYONE is fluid. Things change for even singlets! As you grow as a person, your identity shifts to reflect what you have learned. Like someone might find a gender identity they hadn't heard of that feels just right or they come across a new term that fits them better than the previous one- or they use it for a while and feel it doesn't fit them in the end. Things like this happen to everyone, including individual alters. This means you may have an alter that identifies as one gender, one sexuality, and it may change- that can be REALLY confusing as you're discovering your system because you may assume that it's a new alter all together, when it isn't.

Why I wish I knew this in early system discovery is because it would've saved me A LOT of headache when trying to log and keep track of alters. It can get really draining when you assume that every little identity shift is a new alter when it just simply is not. Sometimes it is, especially in systems where the alters present as very similar to each other, but I would stick to assuming they are not an alter until proven otherwise. This really only applies when you think you are a new alter, and not when it is through internal communication because, in my opinion, internal communication is more reliable when you're tracking alters. It's good to have an alter to 'back you up' so to speak, but it won't always be like that, especially in the beginning. This kind of leads me into my next point of this point [haha... point-ception].

-> System Discovery, and systemhood, in general, is a lot of guesstimations [guess work].

I just recently saw a post about this in the CDD tags. I actually think it's by the same author of the tumblr post I linked, but I wanted to elaborate and go into it in my own perspective. A lot of discovering your system is guess work and reading 'vibes'. This applies to a lot of aspects of systemhood- from an alter's identity to you're headcount [which I will get to later in this point]. It makes everything extremely confusing, meaning it can cause you to feel confused and discouraged, and memories that surface may seem unreal. When it comes to validating yourself and your system, you need to keep in mind that, once again, you know you better than someone else. Sometimes, there won't be external validation for things that come up with your system, such as memories that seem to have 'no evidence', but my therapist gave me some advice for this; if it's affecting you as if it's real, it's best to treat it like it is. This applies to things like body and other flashbacks. Maybe even extending to you thinking you may have a system! You have to learn to validate from the inside to know that, regardless of if it's ""real"" or not, it affects you. Does that make sense? If not I can make a follow up post to better clarify.

I mentioned headcount, and I do want to elaborate on that especially. Your Alter count is a huge amount of guess work, and is never really "concrete". You will never know cut and dry the amount of alters in your system because things fluctuate and identity is fluid. You will likely see people with a listed, exact alter count, and while that is there lived experience, things even change with people you see on the internet.

-> Alters can lie

This one is possibly the most discouraging part of this post, but a very important point to bring up. Alters, despite being the result of a failure to integrate as a child, are very much like their own people [at least, when differentiated], and people can, and do, lie. This is not to say you can’t trust your alters, but rather a reminder to be mindful when interacting with your alters, especially if you’re working with a persecutor of some kind. This is one of the ways your brain defends itself within CDDs, and isn’t any sort of moral failing on you or your alters. Alters lying can look like lying about your trauma [either exaggerating or hiding it], lying about themself, lying about aspects of the system, or other different ways.

For my fellow OCD havers ;

This is something that still messes me up with my OCD. Here is my advice to you ; if there is an alter you trust more than the others, ask for their help to be a rationalizer when you're talking to alters you feel you may not trust as much as the others. This works best if it's a gatekeeper, but it's not a necessity for the alter to be one. This is not meant to be an interrogation. It's meant to help with cross referencing. One alter might say one thing to that alter, but tell you another thing. Otherwise, my advice is to remember that if it's affecting you as if it's real, it's best to treat it like it is.

-> Start keeping a nightly journal.

Whether this be in the notes app or in a physical journal, trust me, this is a good one. Not only will it help you keep a good grasp on what your days look like, but it can also encourage external communication, which is one of the most reliable ways to communicate as a system. Sometimes it can be hard to get everyone to get on board with journaling, but I encourage you to try. I would say that you try to subconciously try to build up the idea of doing things even when you don't want to- its a hard thing to do, but if I can do it, I have confidence in the majority of people who read this post... Keep the journal in a noticeable place, or if it's on your phone, make sure that it is easily accessible. There are plenty of apps that can be used to journal as a system.

What to do if journaling is not accessible ;

If for, whatever reason, you can not write in a physical journal, or type on your phone or computer, I suggest taking voice recorded journal entries. An audio log! Not only will it make you feel cool and like you're from a detective movie [or maybe that's just me lol], but it also accomplishes the same exact purpose as having a physical journal. It can even make it easier for you if you have struggles reading. HOWEVER, if you don't feel safe enough to keep an audio log, I would go towards an app that you can use [but if it's not accessible, negate this whole point].

-> Communication is hard, but once you learn the basics, it only goes up from there.

In the system community, you're mainly interacting with other systems who have already established some form of communication within their system. It can be discouraging to see so many systems who have a grasp on communication, but you don't have any.

Learning any form of system communication, external or internal, is a learning curve. HOWEVER. When you learn the basics of any communication, it only gets easier.

Here's a link to a post full of links aimed at building communication between systems [this is a link]

With that, I'm going to end the post here! I could honestly make more points, and if there's really a need, I'll reblog with additions, but I think this is good start! I hope you learned something from this long post, and feel free to send in asks if you need any clarification! I might not be speedy to answer, but I'll do my best.

And your final reminder that I'm not a medical professional, just a system trying to help other systems.

Thank you for reading my post, and I hope you have a good day/afternoon/evening!

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imrllytootiredforthis · 2 years ago

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One More For Me

pairing: seungmin x reader

warnings: sub seungmin, dom reader, boypussy seungmin bc i'm in a brainrot, gn reader, overstimulation, puppy seungmin, mirror sex, possibly more

wc: abt 1.5k

a/n: this is pretty shit, i was studying and couldn't get this out of my mind so wrote it in like twenty minutes just to get it out of my system so sorry for the crappy grammar and anything that might sound a little funny😭

"I-i can't~" He cries beneath your touch, tears welling up in his eyes, taking on a glassy sheen while somehow managing to still look so pretty you can hardly stand it.

(And so fucked up and so ruined, but those are the less holy thoughts that run through you're mind.)

It's not fair.

How heart-achingly gorgeous he looks.

How his face contorts in pleasure so abashedly. How his mouth falls open, panted out moans bouncing around the four walls of your bedroom. How his bite-covered body makes you feel all sorts of feral you can't even begin to control yourself.

How his abused pussy, stretched out and used thoroughly from tonights activities glistens in the low lighting of the lamp in the corner of the room. How an ever-growing damp spot dirties the sheets below him, getting bigger and messier with every orgasm you've ripped from the poor thing.

"C'mon," you whisper, saccharine and innocent. "You can do it, you're okay."

Your encouragement makes him clench around the toy, making it harder for you to continue thrusting it into him at the damaging pace you had been.

“T-too full,” you kiss over his sweat-soaked, bitten neck, nibbling on his collarbone and tonguing over his jawline. "C-can't,"

You ignore him this time, just like you've ignored his pleas from the last time you made him cum and the time before that and the time before that. Ignored his whines and moans, his useless pawing at the hand that steadily pushes the dildo in and out of him.

He knows his safeword. Knows he can use it anytime he wants to. And he hasn't.

Hasn't because he knows just as well as you do how much he really loves this. Even if he says otherwise.

So your thumb still rubs quick harsh circles around his clit, all red and swollen from your rough touches.

You could almost feel bad for him but then his pretty moans fill the room again and you can't bring yourself to. When he makes that sound all you can do is feel pride to be the one making him do it.

You look at him in the mirror across from you, hanging on the wall across from the bed. Him laying in your lap, back pressed against your chest, legs pinned wide open to leave his most vulnerable parts on display for you.

His glassy eyes meet your gaze in a kind of clash and you finally acknowledge him with a crooked grin. Your pupils are wide with lust, lip caught between your teeth as for a quick second your eyes flash down before they're back on him. “You can do it, one more, one for me puppy, one more because you're a good boy."

He's trembling. Shaking like a leaf in your hold, and even though it's cruel, even though maybe you're being mean, you know he's enjoying it just as much as you do, if not, more.

So when his thighs clamp shut around your arm you're merciless to grip them, solid and firm as you pull his legs apart and pin them with your own.

"Stay still puppy, be good."

It isn't fair.

Isn't fair that you're so calm and composed, attention focused solely on him while, hand working quickly-too quickly for his clouded mind to fully catch up, the sound of wet squelching filling the room, god he's fucking soaked.

He can't help it, can't help the way he shifts, pushing it deeper inside of him, gasping pornographically as the movement pushes the fake cock snug against that special spot that has his chest rising with a harsh gasp, his eyes squeeze shut, bursts of light exploding behind his eyelids.

"F-fuck!"

It's not fair.

You're cooing to him, crooning into his ear, too normal, too collected compared to his body, his arms which feel completely numb as they weakly grasp at yours, he can barely feel them, barely feel anything besides being so deliciously, amazingly full.

But you hiss for him to open his eyes and he can see in his reflection, see the way he's hardly gripping to reality.

How many times has he already cum at this point? Four-five? Six even?

He doesn't know, he stopped counting after two in which he could barely remember his own name much less remember how to count.

"C-can't do it any-anymore~" He whimpers, but his body says otherwise, overstimulated and pushed to the edge over and over and over again but still working against you, hips still endlessly working to swallow the dildo in your hand.

"But you'll do it for me, won't you puppy? I'll be so proud if you do, be my good boy?" You say it so hopefully, as if you have the utmost confidence in him.

He doesn't want to disappoint you, he can't disappoint you, he'd rather die, rather let you make him cum until you've finally used him all up, which you are on your way to doing.

He can't stop until you're proud of him, until he's earned it.

So all he does is let out a pathetic sob, nodding shakily.

"Good boy~" You turn his head and catch his lips into a kiss, rough and desperate, breaking past the seal of his lips and making a mess of drool and saliva.

Tongue and teeth and nipping,

He's not like this-fuck he's not like this, he's normally so composed and so normal.

You do this to him.

You make him like this.

All horny and needy and desperate. Like some kind of sexual deviant that can't think of anything but being filled up and stretched to the brim, fucked hard and deep until he's completely dumb and seeing stars.

You had stuffed him with a plug this morning, before he went to work and wear it all day.

Your poor puppy had had to suppress his noises all throughout day, whenever he sat down or so much as shifted the wrong way. He was so wet, so needy. He couldn't stop thinking of you, thinking of all the ways you'd fuck him that night, the different things you would do to him, maybe you'd even pull out his leash and collar if he was good.

Those thoughts along with the way it shifted inside of him as he walked was nearly enough to push him over the edge. It was a wonder that he somehow was able to keep composure.

And then you had texted him, asking him to send you a picture of it.

Inside of him.

For confirmation, your text said, that he was being a good boy and keeping it in.

He was sure he was face was on fire when he'd excused himself, quickly walking to the bathroom and locking the door behind him, looking around, paranoid, as he pulled down his pants and his ruined panties.

He'd make you buy him more for this. And you happily would. Before you ruined that pair and the cycle would repeat.

Even though he knew he was completely alone he still looked both ways for what felt like the fifth time before he pulled out his phone, pressing the red record button.

You'd done this to him.

Turned him into someone that would record a video of him touching himself, muffled whimpers as he pulled the plug out tortuously slow, for your benefit only and then, little by little, groaning at the stretch, pushed it back in.

You turned him into someone that jumped on you the second you walked through the door, wearing nothing but your shirt and nearly crying for you to fuck him. Grabbing your hand and shoving it between his legs, whining as your fingers slid through his dripping folds

Turned him into someone who fucking whines and begs for more when you call him puppy in that husky voice, raspy with lust...and god, god.

"Please! Please!"

"Please what baby?"

"Please, s-so fucking needy!" He sobs, nails digging crescents into your skin. "I-...puppy needs to be fucked, needs to be fucked until...until…" he trails off dumbly and a smile sits smugly on your face, thrusts achingly slow, dragging so good against his clenching walls.

You look at him expectantly in the mirror, looking like you want him to continue, like you won't continue until he does. "Fuck me until I can't walk and I can't remember my own name! Make me yours, make me your puppy~"

That cruel smirk that he loves and hates and fears and adores spreads across your face, promising pain and pleasure and things beyond his wildest dreams.

"Oh I will, puppy." You fingers press hard against his clit, shoving the toy so deep inside him he gasps, unable to comprehend the small bulge it creates on his tummy.

Your fingers touch it in lustful fascination, voice growing low and gravelly. “Cum.”

And for the however many times it's been today, his vision goes white as he spasms around it, mewling quietly, as you force his face to look at his reflection once more, demanding that he watch himself fall apart.

And then for the however many times it's been today you continue without a hitch, kissing over his neck and whispering: "one more for me puppy." once again.

taglist is open now here if you wanna be added: @hobihearteu, @d7dream @shincode, @lemonhongjoong, @imsolovelylovely, @laylasbunbunny, @xcookiemonsteerr, @lino-jagiyaa

#stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #dom reader #sub stray kids #sub seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin smut #sub kpop #sub!kpop #sub idol #sub skz

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eddiestightywhities · 4 months ago

Text

my hand slipped and i wrote 2K of About To Be Cheating Cheaters buddie (sorry tommy!). here's one half of what i've gotten down so far.

“That's why I'm here, hermano. To make your drunk ass drink lots of water, and to stop all that spiralling shit in its detrimental tracks. If you haven't figured it out by now, I don't much like things that hurt my family.”

Eddie's head is still spinning.

“Hermano? Really Buck? I've only ever been a brother, never had one. But I'm pretty sure any brother of mine wouldn't look a lick like you.”

Dios, Eddie is so, so drunk, and such a horrible person for being so, so glad that Buck is here, with Eddie, instead of someplace with his boyfriend that Eddie definitely does not want to be thinking about.

Eddie needs Buck like oxygen right now because Eddie is a pathetic mess. What the fuck would some perfect pilot that's built like a brick shithouse know about being a pathetic mess? Screw you, Iceman—Buck and Eddie are the Maverick and Goose of this movie, fuck you very much. Always have been. Always will be.

Buck's eyebrows are trying to migrate and join up with his hairline. “Oh, really? What, I'm not good-looking enough to be a Diaz? Is that it?”

That is very much not it.

Eddie teases, “Aw, guapo, you worried you're not pretty enough for me?” because he clearly left his last bit of sanity in the hook and ladder down on Main. He feels like he's having an out of body experience, looking down on himself from up on the ceiling and can practically see his blood fizzing beneath his skin like someone injected popping candy into his veins while he wasn't looking.

What the fuck is he doing?

Buck isn't as drunk as Eddie, but he suddenly looks stone cold sober, blinking furiously through whatever emotions are gripping him right now. Eddie can usually tell what Buck is feeling without having to so much as look at him, but there's currently so much candied rum in his system that it's numbing his higher brain function.

“Uh, that's, uh—it's—that's not exactly what I was getting at, Eddie,” Buck stumbles, trying to right himself from the suckerpunch.

“So what exactly are you getting at, Evan.”

Eddie never uses that name. Not once before telling Buck about changing his will, and never since. He'd only opted back in that hospital room to call Buck by what is printed on his birth certificate to get his full attention, so he understood that what Eddie was telling him was really fucking important. Back when Eddie had very almost told Buck how he feels about him, before bailing on the notion at the last millisecond like the chicken-shit he is and always has been.

Tommy calls Buck Evan. Only ever calls him Evan. As if he knows the first fucking thing about Eddie's best friend! Eddie thinks that at this exact moment in time, regardless of how the guy is supposed to be his shiny new pal, he might just despise Tommy Kinard with every fibre of his being. Who the hell does he think he is, flying in on his helicopter like every day is leg day, with his stupid, funny fake-mouth-static and those stupid, handsome cheekbones, pissing all over Eddie's territory with his probably Incredible Hulk sized dick and trying to take Eddie's Buck away from him?

You're mine, he thinks. Almost says it, too. And he might say it yet, if Buck keeps on squirming as beautifully as he is right now, the raging heat of his twitchy body searing into Eddie's side like a branding iron that states If Lost Return To Evan Buckley.

And I'm yours, he thinks, and knows it to be true. Knows he could make it true, that it could maybe be everything, potentially, if only Eddie stopped being such a yellow-belly.

Fuck Kinard. Fuck all of them that have come before and after Eddie. None of them have loved, or love Buck the way he does. None of them. Eddie knows this because he loves Buck so much it somehow fortifies his heart to make it able to force its way through the spaces between his cracked rib cage and break free to beat wildly in double-time, bleeding, bleeding, bleeding.

Eddie, feeling drunker by the second, hasn't looked away from Buck in a hot minute—Buck who now looks like he might be having a minor stroke. Stretching across to plop his glass clumsily onto the coffee table and missing the coaster by a Texas mile, Eddie then dries any possibility of lingering water droplets from his moustache with a clunky swipe of his thumb and forefinger, before turning to face Buck with a lot more cock-surety than sense.

Buck is Eddie's best friend. His partner. The man who loves his kid. The man who Eddie gave his kid to because they both love his kid that much. He's the lunatic who has unofficially moved in with Eddie—because Eddie has driven their kid away with his epic levels of bullshit—even though he currently has a boyfriend.

Buck, Buck, Buck, who Eddie is now positive should be his boyfriend.

Licking his lips, he feels like he's forgetting something. Like maybe all of the reasons he's steered himself clear of this iceberg for so long—only he's far too drunk, and far too selfish, to try to remember that or care.

Buck swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, and Eddie wants fervently to get his teeth and tongue around it. Then he's muttering, “Eddie, I just meant—”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, begs, demands.

His fingertips have found the soft fabric of Buck's deep blue waffle-weave shirt, where it's covering the expanse of his chest. He's trying to get to his heart, he realises, feeling blindly for any sign of double-time, wanting to taste the blood in its chambers the way Buck has tasted Eddie's.

“Yeah,” Buck breathes, mirroring Eddie which doesn't make a lick of sense apart from the fact that it makes perfect sense, to Eddie.

Eddie's cheeks are burning but he thinks fuck it, throwing the both the extinguisher and life ring overboard and going full steam ahead.

#buddie #buddie wip #eddie pov #possesive eddie #tw cheating #cheating fic #hoping to finish it tomorrow!#wish me luck

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katuschka · 8 months ago

Text

Olalla – Chapter Four

Josh Kiszka x female OC

6.432 words

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

One more chapter until Jacob makes an appearance again, so bear with me. Some shit still needs to happen...

Warnings: alcohol consumption, junk food, lots of fluff, heavy petting, oral sex, masturbation, unprotected penetrative sex, some rough sex too, but not too much, orgams (self) denial, depression, allusions to trauma, some arguing going on, the main character being a bit insufferable

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Feel the vibe Feel the terror Feel the pain It's driving me insane I can't fake For God's sake why am I driving in the wrong lane Trouble is my middle name But in the end I'm not too bad Can someone tell me if it's wrong to be so mad about you

Josh protested weakly for a short while but gave up soon, because he didn’t really have enough strength to fight with her. All he wanted to do was to wash the sticky sweat off his exhausted body and crawl in bed. He had a throbbing headache, his feet were swollen and his calves felt as if he set them on fire, not to mention the hollow ache deep inside his chest. The first panic attack had scared him shitless, but he learned to cope since then and could feel this one subsiding already. He hoped she didn’t recognize it, thinking that he was probably just upset by what happened…

He was also so hungry it hurt, but the idea of going anywhere and just being seen by any more people made him even more nauseous. He generally loved people, so this scared him too. He didn’t feel like himself anymore.

“Could you please at least tell me where we’re going?” he asked after a while, still clutching his forehead with his elbow sticking out of the window.

“We’re nearly there,” was all she said as she drove through the last sharp bend. They were now at the top of a bare, grassy hill with just a few trees here and there. The sun was setting right in front of them and if he just turned his head left, he would see a truly breathtaking view. It was a warm, breezy, fairytale evening. One of those summer evenings that make you forget about tomorrow; when you stay outside a bit too long, wrapped in a blanket, until early birds and the sun re-emerging on the other side tell you it’s finally time to go get some rest.

Not today though. The magic was lost somehow. He just didn’t care. He didn't want to care right now…

They soon arrived at a wrought iron gate that separated the main road from a driveway which led to several log chalets. They were obviously new, but looked sufficiently traditional at the same time, built in the picturesque goralski style, with just a few modern enhancements. It looked fairytale-ish AND expensive.

In his dreamlike state, he watched her miraculously procure the keys from the glove box, step out of the car and open the gate.

She did the same thing again after she parked the car in front of one of the smaller chalets. This time she motioned him to follow her inside. He groaned and slowly dragged himself out of the car. He wasn’t in the mood for whatever she’d been plotting or whoever she wanted to meet here.

The plank wall interior looked bright and cozy and was moderately furnished with just a large and comfy-looking modern gray couch that contrasted with a wooden dining table and chairs carved in the rural style. There was also a fully equipped kitchenette, a large TV and stereo system and a wooden staircase with iron-wrought banister that led upstairs. It was also completely empty.

“What is this?”

“Our shelter for the night,” she answered and switched the lights on because it was already getting dark inside. “I figured you’d appreciate a bit more privacy today.”

She wasn’t wrong, he couldn’t deny that. He knew he was a mess and if they went back, there would be questions, and the people who’d ask them, and he feared couldn’t deal with that right now. He was sure she didn’t want to, either. And this place was actually quite nice, but…

“So, it’s just the two of us? Is this place yours?” He asked tentatively. He thought it unlikely, but really hoped it was.

“No, not mine. I couldn’t afford it even if I wanted to. And I don’t,” she replied matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything, and turned on the oven to let it pre-heat.

Joshua, however, looked positively alarmed now. Still clutching his backpack in one hand, he tried to stop her in her tracks with the other. “Seriously, Olalla! What is this place and how could you get us inside? Please, tell me we’re not trespassing. I don’t want more trouble. If we can pay for this, I definitely will! I don’t want you to…”

“Relax, Mr. I-will-pay-for-it-all. It’s been already paid for. This is a private resort. People pay yearly rent so they can come anytime they want. Anyway, this one belongs to a guy who owns a small chain of bakeries. I’m the housekeeper,” she finally started to explain while rummaging in the fridge and kitchen drawers. “Here, have some water. And stop bouncing around me like a yo-yo. Sit and relax, for fucks sake!” She grabbed his shoulders and gently pushed him in one of the chairs before she dived her nose in the freezer, searching for boxes with frozen pizza. She threw one on the table in front of him “Margherita?”

He nodded weakly and she put it in the oven. “That’s why I couldn’t go to dinner with you the other day. I was here. Even when they’re not here, I come in here every week to keep this place spotless, because his wife is scared of spiders. Also, it just needs to be ready all the time in case they just decided to come here on a whim.” She noticed his alarmed face and added: “Not now! Don’t worry. They’re currently in Egypt…There’s some wine, too. Would you want some?”

He sucked in a breath and exhaled dramatically, which made her roll her eyes. “I take care of their groceries and other supplies. There’s a monthly budget and they don’t keep track, so they won’t notice. Besides, I can keep the change, so all in all you’re my guest… Now come have a look.”

She took his hand and led him to a small terrace outside a glass door at the southern side of the chalet. That’s when he finally saw it. The whole Tatra mountain range was stretching right in front of them. The setting sun was now illuminating just the tops of it, painting the peaks in fiery red, while the valley below was already shrouded in shadow. The glimmering streetlights of Zakopane looked surreal from where they stood, almost inappropriate…like a fake illusion that civilization could possibly surpass the power of the surrounding nature. We don’t control life, life controls us – that’s what Agnieszka thought. Josh, on the other hand, believed in divine symbiosis. Even now, all he could see was beauty. This was much bigger than him, much more important.

She watched with joy as his expression finally relaxed and a weak smile played on his lips. “This is beautiful,” he breathed out at last. “You still didn’t explain why we’re really here.”

“I already told you. The privacy.” His crossed arms and raised eyebrows and the whole oh-come-on look on his face told her that he wasn’t buying. He didn’t look so drained anymore, though, already going back to his charming, bubbly self. And even if he wasn’t, she wouldn’t mind.

She took a deep breath and told him that this was the exact reason. “We’re here so that you could just be yourself. You don’t need to feign anything tonight.”

If they went back to Eulalia, he would no doubt be forced to smile and act normal, at least until he’d reach the confines of his small and stuffy attic room. He had been upset, and she just wanted him to breathe and smile in earnest. This place was perfect for that. She would go here on her own sometimes – or stayed a bit longer than necessary after having done her chores – just to enjoy a private moment of peace, unbothered by anyone. That’s what she told him.

She did not tell him that she feared that they would just part in the hallway and that would be it. There were still some things that were left unsaid and there might not be another opportunity to say them. She would resume her role of a receptionist/slash/maid and he’d be her guest again, engaging in polite conversations about the weather until he’d be gone for good. The whole ride here, the devil on her shoulder kept telling her that it would be better that way and that this was foolish. Or was it the angel? She couldn’t tell. She also couldn’t let go of him that easily. Maya was wrong. A lot of things could have happened…and they did. She needed closure.

She did not need to tell him that, though. She brought him here not as her guest, but as her…whatever he was. A friend, most probably. Someone who she cared about, in spite of her resolve.

He knew that, and that was what really made him smile, not just the view.

“Thank you, Olalla,” he said in a low tone after a while and brought her from her reverie. “I truly love it here. Can we eat outside? he added, motioning to a set of fake rattan chairs and a small table right beside Agnieszka. He looked like an excited, mischievous boy again.

“Of course,” she smiled kindly and the stove clock buzzed, telling them the pizza was ready.

It was already dark when they finished eating, the wine was almost gone, too. It was getting chilly and they had to wrap themselves in blankets from the couch. Their bare and swollen feet, already freed from their heavy boots, were already getting uncomfortably cold, but neither of them wanted to leave yet. The pizza was okay, but small and they were still a bit hungry after, so Agnieszka quickly made some microwave popcorn. They were now munching the last handfuls, each of them lost in their thoughts, and watching the stars mirror the lights below.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” she finally broke the silence.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” he smiled warmly and reached out to stroke the back of her hand that lay on her armrest...

“The bus…” Her hand slid from under his fingers to reach for her wine, leaving them hovering in mid air awkwardly for a split second before he retracted them and clenched his fist unconsciously.

His previously relaxed face clouded again. “What’s there to talk about? People are jerks, you can’t avoid them. End of story, I guess.” His tone was not unpleasant, but it sounded definitive. He wasn’t going to discuss his breakdown with her. She nodded and looked away, so he continued in his honeyed voice: “Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’m just impulsive. And I’d rather talk about our trip. The valley, it was a truly beautiful place. How many times have you actually been there?”

Her heart sank and she watched him playing with the hem of his shirt for a while. It was OK if he didn’t want to talk about the bus ride, but the way he just dismissed the kiss stung her. She cleared her throat because the lump in it threatened to choke her, and answered politely: “A few times. I think I was six or seven when my dad took me there for the first time. We needed passports back then.

“Well, that makes it easier now,” he nodded absentmindedly, still playing with his shirt.

“Nothing is easier!” Her sudden outburst made him look up in annoyance, but his expression quickly softened when he saw her own. He wanted to hug her, but didn’t dare, too afraid that she would pull away from him again.

He was about to suggest that they should probably call it a night. The wine obviously didn’t have the best effect on her. However, she took a deep breath and continued. It was a sudden outburst of words, totally out of her character, but he listened eagerly as she told him about the solace she found up there; how the weather made the same places look a bit different each time; how she knew every place accessible on foot and how Dominik – her fiance – once convinced her to get a climbing permit so that he could show her more; how she avoided going up there for nearly two years after he fell and left her here; how she finally learned that it’s just people’s stupidity that makes bad things happen, and nothing else…

She had no idea why she told him all that, but she suddenly felt so much lighter. It was just like the first night all over again. He was her confessor.

“Is that why you’re running from love? he whispered.

“No,” she huffed in protest. “I’m just seeking joy elsewhere. Love is overrated.”

“What? Oh no! Love is everything, dear. You cannot live without it. It’s the ultimate knowledge. ‘The more you love, the more you know’ – a dumb man once said. Love IS joy!”

“Yeah, you’re positively glowing,” she responded sarcastically.

“Even when it hurts, it’s worth it.”

“I’d rather never known that pain,” she mumbled.

“I regret nothing.” His face betrayed him, though. This was clearly not true. He could feel her eyes on him as he chewed the inside of his cheek. She opened up to him, he should do the same. It just wasn’t easy, not when this ugly, fake and pixelated version of him kept defeating him and its tentacles could reach this place too if he weren’t careful. It had destroyed his love and it still threatened to destroy his life…or at least it felt that way sometimes. “…well, almost…but that has nothing to do with love,” he added when the silence became unbearable.

“So, what’s his name?” The question made him smile, albeit ruefully. He loved how straightforward she was from day one. Some might think it rude, but her questions were always laced with pure interest and concern, nothing more. He appreciated that. She was clever, too…although not clever enough.

“Who? The love I don’t regret?” It was obvious that she wasn’t going to repeat the question. They both knew exactly what she meant, so he looked at her at last and added, finally telling her much more than just a name: “Christopher.”

“Do you still love him?”

“I don’t believe in falling out of love…unless it turns to hate. And I could never do that.”

“That sounds a bit evasive.”

“Yet it’s the most truthful answer I could give you. Everyone I’ve ever loved has left a mark. Some may be a bit faded, but love just doesn’t leave. Don’t your vain attempts to run from it prove my point?”

She huffed in annoyance and emptied her glass of wine. “He didn’t leave me intentionally. He died. Isn’t it natural to feel resentful when someone breaks your heart? They’re not gone, they just don’t want you anymore. I’m pretty sure it’s much easier to let go.”

“He didn’t break my heart. I broke his…and mine, in the process. I’m to blame. And I’m pretty sure he’s resentful, but it didn’t make it any easier for either of us. Besides, didn’t you just say a moment ago that it was all about human stupidity? We’re supposed to learn from it, not hide.”

She had no answer to that. She just tightened the blanket around her, acting like they were just talking about the weather. “It’s getting a bit chilly.”

He gave her a long, scrutinizing look, but she kept avoiding his eyes. “Ok, let’s go inside,” he sighed.

They washed the dishes together in silence and then she reluctantly led him upstairs, sad that their day would – after all – end in what felt like an argument.

The upper bedchamber was not much different from his attic room, with just the most essential furnishings, the double bed taking up most of the space. It was also equally stifled after the hot day. The bathroom, however, was large and cool and fully equipped.. Agnieszka once again started making everything ready with alacrity. She turned on the boiler, opened up the window to let some fresh air in, reached into the closet and handed him several clean towels, showed him where to find spare toothbrushes…and all that time he watched her with visible concern in his eyes which she masterfully ignored.

She was finally done. Standing in the middle of the room with her hands on her sides, she exhaled audibly. “Unfortunately, there’s just one bedroom here, but I can sleep downstairs.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Olalla, the bed is big enough for both of us. If you don’t wanna share it, I understand…but in that case I should be the one sleeping on the couch.”

“I don’t mind sharing the bed with you, I just thought…”

“Good, it’s settled then. Now let’s go take a shower,” he interrupted her matter-of-factly and pulled off his shirt. Her breath hitched as he started unbuttoning his shorts.

“What? Together?”

“We’re gonna sleep in one bed, we have no spare clothes, what difference does it make?” He tried to act nonchalantly, but there was some underlying tension building up under the surface, as if he was testing her, but losing his temper already.

“It makes a difference to me Joshua. I do…”

His face contorted in frustration and he threw his arms up in the air. “And what makes you think that I don’t? What exactly do you want? If you brought me here just as a friend, fine. I can cope with that. You obviously made some assumptions about me along the way, and you weren’t completely wrong. But the kiss…I meant it. And I think you did too, that it’s what you want, but your walls are too high. You’ve been dodging me ever since that happened, even before that, actually… Yet, here we are. I’ve been acting like an idiot too, you haven’t met me at my best, but I do like you, ok? So please, stop overthinking this and fucking tell me. Why does it make a difference to you?”

All the time, she just stood there, watching him flailing his arms around, shocked. If only it were so easy – not overthinking it. Was she really pushing him away today? She wasn’t aware of that. She wanted to touch him again. Badly. The yearning was strong, and past the point of it being purely physical. It kept frightening her.

He was wrong, though. This wasn’t really what she wanted. When she saw him for the first time, he was just another guy that she could potentially have some fun with…if he wanted. Just another handsome body to fill the void for a while. But that changed very quickly. And what the hell did he want, anyway?

“I’m scared.” She was crying now, overwhelmed by his confession as well as her over emotions.

“Of what, baby?”

I’m scared of the fact that for the first time in years, I care. And I’m scared of having to admit that, if you asked. And no matter what happens now, you’re going to leave me. I don’t know what this is yet…definitely not a date…we have no future. But I already know that I’m going to miss you.

She couldn’t say any of it aloud though.

He cupped her cheeks in his hands and looked into her eyes, searching for cues. “Do you want me to go sleep on the couch, baby? It’s ok, you know.”

“No,” she whispered. No, she couldn’t possibly let him do that. It was something in his touch. Every time he made a slightest contact with her skin, her brain short-circuited, making her mind do mental backflips. Because, screw that…If she’s going to miss him, she wants to miss everything about him. “Can you kiss me again, please?”

He barely touched her at first. Just a fleeting brush of his lips against hers. It would be almost innocent if it weren’t for the shaky exhale, almost a moan. It was controlled, and he did it on purpose. He was teasing her before he looked at her again and whispered: “Is this what you want, hm? Just a kiss?”

“You can take whatever you want.”

“I’m not going to be taking anything today, baby,” he responded, caressing her cheek in a loving way. She leaned into his touch and ran her fingertips up his bare chest, tracing his collarbones and then his jaw as she tried to commit every detail of his face in her memory. “We’re gonna take it slow, what do you think? he whispered.

“Yes…,” she whispered back.

He reached for the hem of her tank top, motioning her to lift her arms up, which she was reluctant to do.

“I stink like a pig,” she sniffed, but a soft smile was already forming on her lips.

“You smell divine, my dear.” He kissed her again, this time with more passion. They stood there for a while, reveling in their newly found intimity, licking and moaning into each other’s mouths. He cupped her bare breast in his hand, running his fingers along her nipple before he bowed down to do the same thing with his tongue. She tilted her head back. “Joshua…”

“Yeah,” he muttered with her nipple still in his mouth.

“I’d really like to shower first…” He smiled against her skin and straightened up. He took her hand, grabbed the towels with the other and led her into the bathroom.

He did as he promised, and took it slow. They took off the rest of their clothes and stepped in the shower together. She unbraided his hair, helped him disentable the dreadlock beads from his hair, before she started rubbing shampoo into his curls. “Coconut ice-cream again?” he chuckled softly. She smiled back. “I told you I take care of the supplies. That includes my supplies. I get a wholesale discount for this.”

“You’re a hell of a housekeeper,” he laughed.

When they got back to the bedroom, she just turned off the lights and climbed in bed. He followed suit. They cuddled at first and explored their bodies in the darkness. Listening to his heavy breath was intoxicating. The silky softness of her skin, in contrast with her calloused palms, moved him in a way he never expected. But as soon as their kisses deepened and his cock hardened, they couldn’t wait any longer. She cupped his balls and kneaded them gently, making him whimper.

“I need to feel you,” he whispered.

“Come inside then.”

“What a nice way to put it,” he chuckled against her shoulder. “How do you want me?”

“Spoon me.”

“Alright.”

She turned on her side and he positioned himself, pushing in slowly. He tried to do everything slowly, but it became almost unbearable after a while, and when she whispered “more,” he quickened his pace. He wanted to do just what she asked for, and just listening to her reactions was making him lose his mind. So, when she whimpered “tough me more,” he was delighted to oblige. He grabbed her leg and lifted it up, resting her shin against his knee. His hand sneaked down her thigh until he found that precious little button. It didn’t take long and he soon felt her contracting around him. He diligently took her there, pushed her over the edge with one last flick of his finger and held her tight while she reached the dizzy heights and then came back to him.

It took her a while to realize that he had stopped completely. “Joshua…go on…” Her voice was like a jingle bell, feeble and high and a little breathy.

“Shhh, just let me savor the moment, it’s ok” he murmured into her hair. She exhaled heavily and relaxed as the fatigue threatened to overcome both her mind and body at last. With their limbs still intertwined and their bodies still connected, she felt his chest rise and fall against her back. It was getting cold in the room. He moved just a little to grab a blanket, threw it over both of them and buried his face in her hair again. Almost involuntarily, he moved his hips just a little a few times and whimpered weakly, still chasing the feeling before he finally stopped. “Get some rest, sweet Olalla,” he whispered and his fingertips stroked the baby hair that covered her temple. She fell asleep before he got limp, feeling both peaceful and full.

The sun emerged from behind the clouds and its morning rays hit Josh straight in the face, waking him. He was a bit disoriented at first. He also had a painful erection.

The planks on the ceiling looked just like those in his attic room, but the light coming from the outside, as well as the smell of new wood and furniture were different…then he remembered.

Her side of the bed was empty and cold and no sounds were coming from below. That made him start…only to notice a piece of paper with a quickly scribbled message placed carefully on her pillow.

I had to go back to Eulalia, but I will be back VERY soon with some clean clothes and breakfast. Feel free to make yourself some coffee.

He checked his phone on the nightstand to see what time it was, only to find it dead. Perfect, so she was keeping him hostage now.

That made him huff. He had no idea what time it was, but he had faith in her, so…first things first. He had to take care of himself. He wrapped his fingers around his hard-on and started stroking himself. It was slow at first, but he soon became impatient. All the pent-up energy, all the emotional whiplash he experienced recently, all the hurt and newly found pleasures…he needed to release the tension that had only intensified the night before.

For the first time in months, he didn’t picture Christopher’s mouth enveloping the tip of his hard dick while he was pumping himself. The events of the previous night occupied his mind instead. He enjoyed sex with women, but it had been a couple years now…and to be honest, it had never infiltrated his deepest fantasies…until now. He just couldn’t help it now. He could feel it again – her tight walls, smooth like velvet, warm and tight…but not too tight. Different.

The way she moaned with each thrust; it was so melodic. So sincere. All the hurt she had tried to hide, it seeped out of the pores of her silken skin and evaporated in the air above them. He made her feel better. She made him feel better.

He closed his eyes and he could see her face clearly again, as if it was tattooed on the inner surface of his eyelids. He thought about their first kiss as he twisted his wrist, stroking the head of his cock in a circular motion. The electricity when the tip of her tongue met with his was real. It made him moan loudly and his heart started to beat faster. He was getting close already.

He ran his second hand past his abdomen to cup his balls, kneading them gently just like she had done yesterday. He longed for her to do it again, but right now he had to get this over with so they wouldn't burst. A few more strokes – together with a memory of her dark ponytail flailing in the wind – before spurts of his cum landed on his belly and chest.

The hurt he had felt – it somehow ceased to matter the very moment she decided to try to make it go away without even asking what he had done to feel that way. Her whole being left an imprint on him. Her teary eyes, her ringing laugh, the softness of her skin and her calloused hands. His vision of her was not purely sexual, but it made him emotional. She was a born caretaker, who – for some reason – chose to live without love. He couldn’t forget the way she was looking at him the night he gave her the pendant. Like deer in headlights. She begged to be seen, yet she was trying to make herself invisible. He became convinced that he had to fix it.

Again. He hadn’t learned a single thing…

He lay there for a while with his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of warm sun rays on his skin, but the relief he had sought was short-lived and he started to feel on edge once again. Groaning in annoyance as his release on his stomach started to get crusty, he finally scrambled out of bed and trudged over to the bathroom.

The quick shower he took to clean himself did not make him feel more relaxed, on the contrary. It once again reminded him of last night. He lathered up a drop of the coconut shower gel between his hands to wash his torso with it and the smell only made him dizzy. He needed her.

He wandered naked around the chalet, searching through empty drawers for a compatible charger, knowing too well it was futile. He made himself a coffee and then just let it get cold on the table. He opened a bottle of beer, took two sips and then just held the cold bottle on his forehead while he sat sprawled on the couch. He started gnawing on his lower lip out of impatience when he finally heard a key in the lock and his eyes snapped open.

She was beautiful, with her long dark locks just hanging down this time. She was wearing a white madeira sundress and flip flops. He had never seen her like this.

“I’m SO sorry, it took a little longer than I expected, I hope you didn’t…oh!”

At first she thought he was angry, the way he leaped from the couch and darted towards her, with that look on his face. She instinctively backed away, but he just took the bags she was holding, put them on the table and literally pounced on her, grabbing her sides and making her stumble backwards and collide with the wooden door.

“Joshua! Wait a second,” she bursted out, grabbing his shoulders in an attempt to regain her balance. He disregarded her feeble resistance, grabbed her wrists and pinned them against the door at both sides of her head.

“For what exactly? I’ve waited for hours. Now I don’t need to anymore. I think I”m going to take what I want after all,” he grunted against the soft skin right below her earlobe and pushed his leg between her things. “And don’t tell me you dressed like this to make me wanna hold your hand again, so don’t play coy,” he added, while licking a long stripe from her collarbone back up to her earlobe, earning a high pitched moan when he bit it. Her heart started beating wildly, sending tingling waves of arousal throughout her whole body. He was already rock hard, rutting against her pelvic bone.

“Aren’t you hungry?” she whimpered, nodding towards the table. She was referring to the food she brought, but they both knew she was teasing him with double meaning. She arched a little, pressing her still clothed pussy down on him a bit more. It was exhilarating to feel his hands tightening around her forearms, digging his fingernails in her flesh. He looked at her, nostrils flaring, and she reciprocated with intense glare.

“I’m starving. Feed me.” He let go of her arms, grabbed her jaw instead to force her mouth open and licked into it, claiming it. Her own hands immediately travelled up his back, kneading his tight flesh in a sudden frenzy, pulling him even closer to her chest.

Still locked in a searing kiss, he turned her around and they slowly made their way towards the couch. When her calves collided with it, he just pushed her down and kneeled in front of her, pushing the hem of her dress up to her waist with one swift motion. She had no panties on, which made grin like a madman, shaking his head with a mischievous “tsk”.

With just his fingertips, he pushed her thighs further apart and licked his lips absentmindedly, seeing her in all her glory for the very first time. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, while the same fingertips travelled further up her inner thighs until his thumb brushed gently against her clit, sending a jolt of electricity up her spine.

She moaned melodically and he hummed in unison with her. “You said you liked my singing?”

The question brought her back to earth and she looked down at him in confusion. “You want to sing to me now?”

He locked his eyes with her and they gleamed with mischief as he brushed his cheek against her inner thigh and planted a soft kiss on her labia. “Uh huh.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just this…” he whispered, pressed the tip of his tongue on her exposed bud and really, really started singing…

He had to push her abdomen down with his hand to keep her steady as her whole body twitched in shock, her hands frantically grabbing at the pillows around her. He had her moaning loudly in no time. She had never held any man’s head between her legs, but she entangled her fingers in his curls almost involuntarily, in fear that he would stop. He hummed in approval and quickened the vibrations of his tongue even more and she cried out, eyes open wide. He slowed down a bit when her legs started shaking, enveloped her clit with his lips and started sucking on it gently. That was a terrible mistake, because instead of prolonging the experience, it pushed her over the edge immediately.

She watched him in a haze as he emerged from between her legs and hovered above her, his facial hair completely wet. She immediately reached out to wipe it off with her palm, but he grabbed her wrist and smiled devilishly. “Leave it!” It sent her mind reeling.

“What is it, baby? You look completely ruined,” he crooned maliciously.

“Oh god, Joshua, just shut up and fuck me!” she exclaimed impatiently, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him closer.

“Oooh, I will!” he bit his lip and shook his head maliciously. Before she could react, he buried his dick in her to the hilt. They both groaned loudly, exchanging a quick look. He swallowed audibly and rested his forehead between her breasts. “Your body’s made of silk, baby,” he murmured against her skin. “It’s driving me nuts.”

She clenched around him deliberately, making him groan again. “Don’t get too sentimental now. I’m not ruined enough yet!”

“Dear lady, you’re a beast,” he whimpered through his teeth and straightened up. “As you wish.” He grabbed her hips and started thrusting into her with an unexpected force.

She watched him, mesmerized. She literally saw him in a completely new light now. His parted lips, his furrowed brow. Just seeing him like that was an intensively sensual experience, and it turned her on even more. She could soon feel another orgasm building deep inside her low abdomen. It was becoming almost overwhelming and she grabbed his upper arms to steady herself, digging her fingernail into his skin. That did it for him and his movements became erratic. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain control over his bbody, but she clenched around him again and hissed: “Go on. Fill me up!”

With a few last spasmic thrusts and a long, high-pitched moan, he did, taking her with him one more time. They collapsed together on the couch, breathing heavily.

“Joshua?”

“Yeah?

“I like you too.”

He didn’t say anything, just pulled her even closer to him and kissed her forehead lovingly.

“What do you think is going to happen now?”

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully, stroking her hair “but literally anything’s possible. Let’s not worry about it now.”

“I assume you can’t stay longer, can you?”

“No, I’m afraid I can’t. But we still have a week. Let’s make it the time of our lives.”

And they started immediately. The weather was capricious that day. The morning sun soon hid behind the clouds and heavy shower rains kept drumming on the roof. It was a perfect day for ceaseless fucking. It was as if nature played along. Once they got the taste of each other, they just couldn’t stop.

They fucked three more times that afternoon. At first he bent her over the dining table right after lunch. It was animalistic and quick and she feared she’d leave scratch marks on the wooden table as she cried out with each violent thrust against her cervix. His hands on her hips were gentle though, kneading her flesh like velvet cushions, the pressure of his fingers on her skin more aggressive only when he came.

The second time was slow and gentle, as they lay in bed under the roof. Rain kept falling as he showered her with kisses.

They lay there for another half an hour before they concluded it was finally time to take another shower. That’s where he pressed her against the tiles and filled her with his seed one more time.

The day wasn’t over yet, but it was time to go back, so they cleaned up the chalet, got dressed, packed their things and soon were on their way back, arriving at Eulalia before supper.

Maya greeted them at the reception with a smile, but something was off. She was all smiles and giggles when she and Agnueszka talked briefly earlier that day. She looked almost apprehensive now.

“I need to talk to you,” she hissed at Agnieszka in Polish after Josh excused himself and ran up the stairs to his room.

“Can it wait?”

“No, I’m afraid it can’t.

“Well, it will have to. We’re going out soon in half an hour. You promised me. I’ll be back in the kitchen tomorrow morning.”

“Olalla!”

“See you in the moooorning,” Agnieszka trilled over her shoulder, already on her way up.

Back in her room, she checked her phone briefly, only to notice she had a whatsapp message from Bartek. It was a link to some article one of his buddies allegedly found somewhere. She opened it and gasped in shock.

Josh knocked on her door ten minutes later. He definitely did not expect her to open it with teary eyes.

“What happened,” he frowned.

She showed him the screen and he went pale immediately. “OK, let me explain.”

“Yeah, you do that…and while you’re at it, feel free to introduce yourself, because clearly, I don’t know you…”

Give me all your true hate and I'll translate it in your bed Into never seen passion That is why I am so mad about you

Previous Chapter Olalla masterlist

@its-interesting-van-kleep @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @thewritingbeforesunrise @lvnterninthenight @fleet-of-fiction @takenbythemadness @myownparadise96 @gvfstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @tripthelightfantastix @sanguinebats @love-isnt-greed @klarxtr @kiszkas-canvas

#greta van fleet #gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fanfiction #josh kiszka fluff #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka x reader #gvf fanfic #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka fic #Spotify

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mitchfynde · 4 months ago

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Tumblr conservatives have invented a creative new way to win debates. They simply don't debate you.

I've had shitloads of debates on this website over the years. Almost every single one was frustrating, due to multiple factors. The one factor that usually stayed consistent is that my opponent would at least argue something. Doesn't matter if they were right or wrong; Even if their argument was complete and utter nonsense, they at least attempted to make one.

Since the insurrection on January 6th, 2021 and the aftermath revealing Donald Trump's fake electors plot, I've noticed a shift in conservatives on tumblr. They often don't make an argument anymore.

What conservatives do now is circulate narratives. You can try to debate them on these narratives, but it ultimately does nothing. The facts don't matter at all. They have headlines that confirm what they want to be told and they have years of experience with evil leftists online that completely cement their bias forever.

What you will find is that now you're evil. Now you're bad faith. You're not worth being debated, because you're a liberal or you're a leftist and you're not to be trusted. If you include even the smallest insult, it's somehow seen as duplicitous.

Nevermind the endless bigotry at the heart of their belief system which leads them to endlessly mock people based on circumstances outside of their control. Never mind the fact that even if you are a cishet white man that is on the same footing as them in life, you'll still be insulted just based on your beliefs. They have no standards but double-standards. Remember the old saying?

"If feminists didn't have double-standards, they'd have no standards at all."

But let's look back at multiple of those.

"Feminists can't interact with any kind of media without bringing their politics into it."

"Feminists want everything to be censored."

"Feminists make politics their whole personality."

"Feminists are constantly triggered by mundane things and basic facts."

Maybe most damning:

"Feminists refuse to debate me."

It's time to face facts. The right became exactly what they hated the most. They hold liberals to normal standards, but conservatives to none. Every single movie, show, or game is now woke if it includes anything outside of a straight white man as the focus of the game. They want all LGBT messages censored from media and branding. Everything is about being MAGA, even outside of the USA. They will lose their shit over any talk of climate change, psychology, vaccines, etc.

They no longer actually debate you, because they can't. They've been proven wrong long ago. It's over. They haven't had facts on their side for years. They've had to leave reality and form an internet bubble of alternative facts. Although, let's face it, they didn't actually form that bubble. Russia did. And they did it to destroy the USA and the west as a whole, but that's a different discussion.

If you have conservative friends, be kind. They're brainwashed. They most likely feel strongly that they are serving a higher purpose by doing what they're doing. They can't actually perceive that they're wrong because they've lost the ability to discern fact from fiction. They may snap out of it eventually if they learn to hold any actual standard long enough. That should be our goal. Make them hold pretty much ANY standard whatsoever.

Rant over.

#trumpism #donald trump #conservatives #republicans #right wing bullshit #rant #important #faves

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crappymixtape · 1 year ago

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faking it • part one

you have to go to a wedding dateless now thanks to your ex, but somehow you make a new friend and he makes you forget all about what’s-his-face ( eddie x reader, strangers -> friends / kinda lovers )

F A K I N G I T • P A R T O N E

🎶 you're so, milk

“Shit,” you hissed at the reflection of yourself in the mirror, pale peachy fabric of your dress wrinkling in all the wrong places. It didn’t fit at home like it did at the store and you had exactly one hour before you had to be at the venue.

Quickly rummaging through your closet you searched for something, anything else that would work. Short black mini, no. Bright red sundress, no. Horrible, weird, green bridesmaid dress from the last wedding, absolutely not.

Groaning you kept flipping through hangers one after the other, lump in your throat growing, anxiety slipping around you tightly, so damn frustrated and angry and wanting to just crawl under your covers and eat ice cream.

Maybe you’d be fine if shit hadn’t hit the fan a few weeks prior. A few weeks before your best friend’s wedding. Maybe it’d be okay if your now ex-boyfriend hadn’t been a complete asshole. Maybe going to an event with everyone from high school would suck less if you weren’t going alone now, but you weren’t going to let him ruin it. You wanted to be there for your friend, had to be there for her, and then suddenly your eyes landed on it.

A pretty yellow thing. Like buttercups and the color of the sky as the sun rose in the wee hours of the morning and when you slipped into it you felt yourself come back. Felt the lump in your throat soften, a small smile pulling up at the corners of your lips.

You looked good and dammit you were going to have a good time.

Heels were a guarantee you’d fall within the first five minutes of arriving and you certainly weren’t trying to impress anyone, so you grabbed your Chucks out from under your bed, touched up your mascara and hurried out the door with your gift under your arm.

It was a perfect day, not too hot, not too cold, and the venue was gorgeous. Nestled in the forest outside of Hawkins, there were little tables and a dance floor and a beautiful arch draped with flowers and greenery, ready for the bride and groom to say ‘I Do’ and you lingered for a bit by the gift table, taking it all in.

People were milling around, talking and catching up and you tried your best to look interested in the vases at the end of each row of chairs. Picked at the burlap covering the guestbook table. Wandered off a little further than everyone else so that maybe you could avoid questions.

“Where’s your man?”

“You gonna be up there next?”

“He better not wait too much longer to ask!”

It worked for a little while until you heard the conversation grow louder near the bar. A few gasps, a couple of whoops, whispers. It pulled your gaze and when you looked up you thought you were going to be sick.

Your ex.

With Penny Arnold on his arm.

Fussing over him and straightening his tie and pressing kisses to his cheek and clasping his hand in hers as she gushed to the people who’d greeted them.

“Penny, you look incredible!”

“Oh my god, your dress is gorgeous!”

“I didn’t know you two were seeing each other!”

Your heart hammered in your chest, panic squeezing you tight, breaths falling quick and stuttered from your lips and you had to leave.

Despite being out in the middle of nowhere, the forest felt like it was closing in around you as you dug in your purse for your keys until the sound system scratched with a voice.

“Hello, all! If everyone can please be seated, Steve and the beautiful bride are ready to get started. You’ll find your name on your chair, so get settled and don’t be shy! Make a new friend on this wonderful day of celebrating love!”

Your stomach lurched. Too late. Everyone would notice. And did you really want to miss this? Your best friend’s wedding? Taking in a deep breath you tried to slow your heart rate, tried to calm down. It was going to be okay. Just get through the ceremony and then you could go.

Ducking your head you quickly glanced at each of the seats, eyes scanning the assigned seating and praying to god that they’d remembered to move you away from him, your ex.

Please, please, please.

Your heart was racing as you walked along the rows of chairs, eyes frantically searching for your name. They had to have moved you and finally you found it near the back on the end. The perfect hiding spot out of view behind a bunch of other people and when you saw E. Munson next to you instead of J. Carver you let out a breath of relief, not realizing you’d been holding it.

“So, new friends, huh?”

A voice over your shoulder made you jump a bit and you turned quickly, coming face-to-face with someone very much not dressed for a wedding.

He was tall and a little lanky with long brown curls and even longer lashes. A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Wide and warm and friendly. Dimples pinching into his cheeks and eyes all brown sugar and cinnamon and your heart stuttered in your chest.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” he rubbed at the back of his neck, looking over at you through the long sweep of his lashes and you felt yourself melt.

“S’alright,” you tried to recover, tucking a stray lock of hair out of your face, smile pulling at your lips when you finally took in his outfit. Black jeans, black boots, and a black t-shirt with a tuxedo printed on the front, “Nice suit,” you teased, smile growing a bit.

“Oh, this old thing? Yeah, had to get it dry cleaned. Was pretty wrinkly,” he played along and your smile shifted into a grin. He was funny.

“What’s the E stand for?”

“Edward,” he said, all mock-finery. Poking fun at prim and proper as he pretended to adjust the tie printed on his shirt, smirking as he jammed his hands into pockets. “Joking, please don’t call me that,” he said with a small laugh and you bit your bottom lip between your teeth, cheeks hurting from smiling so much already. “It’s Eddie. Or Eds. Or Munson I guess, if I get into trouble. I smoked in my van on the way over, but might need to sneak off later–” he winked at you conspiratorially and your stomach flipped over, “–not gonna rat me out, are you?”

“Oh god, no,” fell out too quickly and you felt a blush creep across your cheeks. “I mean–secret’s safe with me,” and you twisted your fingers over your lips and threw away an invisible key.

“Knew you were a good one,” his grin softened, reaching down to pick up your name cards from both chairs. “We’re probably gonna get yelled at if we don’t sit down. Carol Harrington seems sweet, but seriously. Don’t fuck with her,” his expression shifted quite serious and your eyes grew wide as you quickly took your seat.

“Really? She looks so nice,” you stole a glance up toward the front at Steve’s parents, his mom already holding a handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes.

“Oh yeah. Been chased outta her pool more than few times,” Eddie shook his head and sat next to you, kicking his feet up on the chair ahead of him. You caught the scent of leather and patchouli, a little skunky like weed and something softer. Maybe rosemary or lavender and it made your cheeks warm again.

“Note to self, don’t mess with Carol,” you quietly teased as the guests settled and Eddie shot you another grin.

“Exactly,” he whispered back and for a split second Eddie gave you the gift of not thinking about your ex, not even once, and it felt really, really nice.

The ceremony was gorgeous of course. Everyone laughed when Dustin came down the aisle as flower girl, somehow perfectly scattering his little basket of flower petals. Steve cried a little bit when he read his vows, but all the while with a big smile on his face and your friend was beautiful. Stunning. So happy and in love as she and Steve walked past you after the ceremony, and while you wanted to leave, avoid your ex and get out of there, you knew you couldn’t. Not now.

This? Right now? Was for your friend and, more importantly, you had to figure out how in the hell you were gonna make it through the rest of the damn night.

“Heard they got ice cream instead of a cake.”

“What?” your eyes flicked up to see your new friend, tuxedo shirt on full display and that wide warm smile turning your insides to goo.

“My money’s on Harrington playing it safe and not smearing it all over her face, what d’you think?” he asked, smile shifting mischievous, dimples pinched into his cheeks and the way you grinned back made you feel like an idiot.

All of a sudden the rest of the evening didn’t feel so daunting.

“How much money?” you teased and he took on a thoughtful expression, eyes crinkling at the corners as he hummed.

“Don’t make a habit of taking money from nice girls, but–” he winked and your heart stuttered in your chest, “–ten bucks? And loser has to take a shot.”

You stuck a hand out. Lips firmed into a line. Trying to be serious and trying to play along but you weren’t good at holding it like Eddie was and had to drop your gaze so your smile wouldn’t give you away. “Deal,” you half-laughed.

But then his hand was taking yours, squeezed tight, rough callouses on his fingers brushing across the back of your hand and you felt your cheeks warm. Swallowed against the way your heart leapt and when he let go an ache bloomed in your chest.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured, still grinning at you, “I’ll take a shot in solidarity.”

Your mouth fell open, mock offense, music filling the space around you as the bar opened up, “Think you know Steve that well?”

Eddie huffed, pushed air through pursed lips and shook his head, curls bouncing with the movement, “Oh yeah, without a doubt.”

“Okay, hot shot,” you teased, “Hope you like tequila.”

“Ah, shit. I really thought you’d be more the whiskey type–“

“–always tequila. Espolòn, blanco,” another voice cut in and the sound filled you with dread.

Pulled at your insides and threatened to drag you down into the floor. Made your arms feel like they were full of lead and every tiny bit of relief Eddie had poured into you emptied out like water through a sieve.

Your ex.

“Who’s your date?” Jason asked you, appraising Eddie all aloof and unsatisfied as he fingered the bright gold cuff link on the sleeve of his suit jacket.

You choked on your words, felt them die in your throat as you tried to put yourself back together and stand up for yourself, but then Eddie’s hand was at your waist. Tugging you in close and holding you tight to him as he gave Jason a certified shit-eating grin. All show and bravado and confidence.

“Eddie,” he said simply, tone assertive enough to make Jason’s brows lift ever so slightly and he chuckled under his breath.

“Interesting choice of outfit, Eddie,” Jason dumped emphasis on the other man’s name, eyes shifting sharper, sucked on his teeth and turned back to you. “Hope you enjoy yourselves,” he sneered, propping up a fake smile as he flicked his gaze back to Eddie, “But careful with this one, Ed. She can be a little…messy.”

Your face burned, heart pounding against your rib cage, anxiety gripping you like a vice as his words hit you like truck.

A mess.

A fucking mess.

“You’re embarrassing me! Crying at a party, Christ.”

“Embarrassing you?? Jesus, Jason. What d’you want me to do? Go give her a hug and say, ‘Oh my god, Penny. Hope my boyfriend was a good fuck!’?”

“That’s not the point, I–”

“Not the point–I literally just caught you, my boyfriend, pants down in the bathroom with someone else. And it’s not even the first time!”

“You drink too much, blow everything out of proportion and get on my ass about shit and–”

“Wha— I do it, it’s overreacting, but if you do it it’s ‘just a little fun.’”

“I’m done with this. It’s obvious you can’t handle me. You’re a fucking mess.”

A mess.

“Ah,” Eddie clicked his tongue and pulled you even closer. “We’re all a little messy, man,” and then he leaned in toward Jason, “I’d say you hide it well, but the fuck-you look on your face really gives it away.”

The color drained from Jason’s face, mouth hung open and scrambling for a come back, but he wasn’t quick enough and instead made a strangled sound of departure before turning and walking away.

Eddie’s expression softened and you felt him press his hand to your waist, silently reassuring, and he dropped his gaze down to look at you. “You okay?” he asked gently, big brown eyes searching yours, the wide expanse of his hand warm and steady and holding you together.

“Shit,” you cursed quietly, squeezing your eyes shut and willing yourself to not let it get to you. To tell yourself it didn’t matter anymore and that there was a reason he was your ex and he and Penny deserved each other and–

“Here,” Eddie took your hand and pressed it to his chest. Placed it over the cracked and faded carnation printed on his shirt. Pushed gently at your hip and started up slow steps in time with the song playing through the speakers. Smiled at you soft and sweet and chased Jason’s words from your mind. “Hm?” he hummed in question, brows quirking up a little, “Better?”

You huffed a small laugh and looked down at your feet. Black Chucks. Black boots. Slivers of skin peeking through the rips in Eddie’s faded black jeans. Your buttercup yellow dress a flash of color you wouldn’t normally wear, but it felt nice right now. Just like Eddie’s hand felt nice on your waist.

Pulling your gaze back up to him you tried a smile. “Better,” you admitted, lifting your other hand to rest on his shoulder. “Where did you even come from, Eddie Munson?” you asked, a mixture of gratitude and bewilderment, searching those big, brown eyes of his and Eddie’s smile widened.

“Forest Hills Trailer Park, baby,” he grinned, giving you another little wink before sobering a bit, fingers shifting lightly on your waist, “Nah. I dunno. Who cares about where you came from. You gotta decide where you wanna be.”

Where you wanna be.

Where did you want to be? Quite frankly the last three weeks had you second-guessing everything you’d wanted. Had you feeling like someone had put your life in a blender and spat it back out all over the floor.

A mess.

Jason had wanted to stay in Hawkins. Took the assistant Basketball coach job at the high school and so you stayed too. Tried to open your own boutique. Tried to save up for a place of your own and wanted so badly to put the pieces of this future together, but it was like putting a square peg in a round hole.

Yes, you’d loved him, why else would you have stayed? But as each little argument unraveled you felt yourself growing further and further apart. The tiny voice at the back of your mind screaming at you to leave this shitty little town. Go to the city and open your studio there. Explore and get away from all of this and be who you really wanted to be.

And even though you still felt like your heart was in a million little pieces there was this guy. This sweet, funny, smart ass, witty-as-hell guy standing up for you and dancing with you and smiling at you and somehow helping put your heart back together.

“Where d’you wanna be?” you finally asked him, hand still pressed to his shoulder as he turned you around the dance floor.

“Hm,” he mused quietly, mulling things over, a small pinch between his brows appearing as he thought. “Philly? Chicago? Hell, anywhere but here,” he finally said, his non-decision making him chuckle a little as he looked back down at you. Eyes warm and hazy like whiskey, lashes fanning out across his cheeks.

God, you were pretty. And funny. And quick on your feet and shit he felt like an idiot before he even opened his mouth.

“Hey, listen. You wouldn’t wanna–” he started, but then shook his head, “–nah. Shit. Forget it.”

“No, now you have to tell me!” you insisted, pausing mid-dance, and Eddie could feel the heat creeping across his cheeks and up to his ears.

“It’s dumb, you wouldn’t want to–”

“–try me,” you cut in, grabbed his hand again and it pulled the corner of his mouth up into a lopsided smile.

“D’you wanna get outta here?” he asked, your insistence making him feel a little braver, a little bolder, and it lit a fire in your chest.

Biting your lips between your teeth against a smile you nodded at him, feeling silly, feeling excited, his hesitations all but gone at the look on your face.

“Seriously?” he asked, just to make sure, and it pulled a laugh from you.

“Only if it’s to that shitty diner off the highway,” you teased a little and it made him grin, dimples pinching at his cheeks, his brown eyes glinting with just a tiny bit of mischief and it made your stomach flip over.

“Deal,” he agreed, grin still playing on his lips and when he took your hand and led you back out down the gravel path and away from the party you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so light.

crappymixtape™ • eddie munson masterlist // stranger things masterlist

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader

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pokespe-rainbow · 22 hours ago

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Any Tmnt Iteration x Spider-Man!Reader: Friendly Neighbor

Part 1

"I'm not lying! I'm serious! I meet [S/n] in an alley!" - exclaimed the orange claded turtle as his purple brother denied with his head

"Sure Mikey" - came Raphael's voice from the couch - "And of course Megan Fox didn't have anything better to do than chatting with you in a rooftop" - he mocked and turned his attention to his magazine

"Well, [S/n] had to go to protect the city. And that's okay but I'm gonna met them again tonight" - Mikey put his hands on his hips

"I don't know if that's safe Mikey" - came Donnie's voice - "Even if you meet the actual [S/n] I don't think you should give your trust so freely. It could be working with the Foot"

"Yoy sound just like Leo" - Mikey turned hiz gaze around

"Mikey, everytime you ended up trusting someone you ended up getting hurt" - says Raph - "What makes you believe this time will be different?

"But April said [S/n] was cool! And Leatherhead ended up being a great guy! Donnie!" - he called to his purple brother - "I thought you liked [S/n]!"

"Mostly I feel curiosity. That's all. I just wondered how their mutation go and what make that different from ours. From April's reports I'm certain Dr Connors formula is somehow similar to the mutagen effects. It certainly had a superior regeneration system, but is probably because —"

"Ugh!" - Raphael complained - "Please say that in a language I can actually understand."

Donatello gave his older brother a dirty look - "You're imposible" - he said before turning around, not finding his orange brother - "Where's Mikey?"

"Go before dying out of boredom" - Raphael locked his finger and passed a page of his magazine - "Or go to meet his imaginary friend"

"Raphael, what if Mikey is actually telling the truth and he's actually alone with a dangerous mutant?" - asked Donatello

"What do you expect me to do?" - Raphael closed his magazine, annoyed - "Try to stop him? Go after him to the end he complains of how we treat him like he was a little boy when he's a "grown men"?" - mocked with a fake imitation of Mikey's voice - "Why don't you come out after him if you worry so much? Or better? Go ask the fearless leader to get up his ass from his fortress of solitude, if he's in a good mood today?"

"You're unbelievable " - Donatello turned around and go to his lab - "I just can't with you!"

"Oh! So now you're a little pissy too! Just great! Another hermit of a brother is just what I needed!" - Raphael stand up and go to his room

In the entrance of the lair, Michelangelo flinched at Raphael slamming shut his bedroom door, breathing out a sharky breath. He tugged his skateboard before shaking his head. [S/n] was one of the good ones. They had to be.

For a moment he actually wanted to tell Leo he was going out, but he tensed, thinking that better not. Leo hasn't been in the best mood lately, so he probably wouldn't like him meeting [S/n] tonight.

Putting the skateboard on the ground, Mikey speed up away from the lair. Once no one else was left on the living room, Master Splinter come out of his chamber and gave a dissapoiting sigh. He hoped their sons would learn from their past experiences and move on before the rift between them would become to big. And he should probably talk to Michelangelo about stranger danger once he decided to come back home. His youngest son seemed to use some time alone to clear his mind.

You hanged from the building, expecting the sigh of the orange before duty decided to call [S/n] back to action, not really wanting to disappoint. You had left some poor devil hanging out in Hells Kitchen before coming here. You really expected the cops would come to get the guy down. Or he would really use a bathroom the moment the webs expired.

The sound of metal rolling against the paviment called your attention, looking down, really thanking the spider for improving your sense of sight, despite spiders having bad vision, except for the jumping spiders, species you believed was the spider that bited you. A manhole to the sewers slided and you prepared to jump in action when a familiar masked face and a tingle of acknowledgement revealed some green gummy bean.

"Mikey!" - you called, the turtle head snapping at your direction and smiling like a kid in Christmas - "Buddy, I was started to worry"

"Yeah, sorry." - Mikey apologized as he covered the manhole - "My brothers kind off didn't believed me"

"Sorry to hear that" - You say as you waited to the turtle to come up.

Despite the shell and the fame of turtles being slow, the turtle didn't had a lot of problems scaling the building and sitting near you. You could say he was more agile than most of your villains. You guys had more or less the same height, tough the turtle seemed more interested of New York's streets.

". . . . . So, do you like Jersey?" - you asked out of nowhere

"What?" - Mikey turned to see you

"Do you like Jersey?" - you asked again

"No, Jersey sucks" - answered Mikey with a confused face

"That's what I wanted to hear" - you answer - "Jersey sucks!" - you screamed, your voice being muffled by New Yorks noises. You nugged Mikey's shoulder - "Now you try, no one's gonna judge you, everyone hates Jersey"

Mikey seemed to doubt before looking at New York once again - "New Jersey sucks" - he spit

"Louder, like this" - you cleared your throat - "New Jersey SUCKS!"

Mikey give a weak laugh before standing up - "New Jersey Sucks!"

"NEW JERSEY SUCKS!"

"YOU SUCK!" - came an angry scream from one of the buildings, you and Mikey stired out of your skin - "IT'S FUCKING 10 PM! FUCKING YONKIS!"

You gave Mikey an awkward look behind your mask - "I think we should go"

"Yeah, we should."

Mikey skated trough the rooftops as you walked near the roof eaves in tiptoes, totally child's play. He had finally seemed to relax of whatever was haunting his mind. Mikey talked about comics and video games, didn't help with the theory of him being a teenager just like you, one that had to hide in the sewer so that way the government couldn't come to cut him in little pieces. You talked about ice cream flavors and your favorite pizza toppings. You had a heated debat of putting pineapple on pizza, but ended as long you remembered they were people out there that put fish on it. It irked both of you and a new solidarity over respecting pizza came out of it.

"And that's why chocolate is the best flavor in the world" - you said casually, and of course chocolate was the best flavor, only an ignorant without taste wouldn't agree with you

"But what if they have pizza flavor?" - came Mikey's response.

"I'd say you're on thin fucking ice." - You pointed at him, at what he chuckled - "I'm serious, don't you ever dare to disrespect pizza that way"

"Okay, I won't disrespect pizza god ever again, I promise" - he raised his arms, all without looking at were he was going - "I never imaginated I'll be talking to you about ice cream"

"Why?" - you tilted your head. Was something you get to say? You were a pretty chill person! Everyone in New York should know that!

"I thought you'll be more like Leo" - said Mikey - "I mean, you guys are a lot alike, Leo's the big brother who takes care of us and you take care of everyone in New York, you both are the best kicking bad guys butts and..." - Mikey seemed to stop - "Leo always takes everything too seriously."

Ooooohhhhh. Family drama. Ouch ouch ouch. You shouldn't be hearing this. This was Mikey's Family and he shouldn't be talking this to the person he met yesterday.

"I'm pretty sure he just tries his best" - You said - "Had you tried to tell your brother how that makes you feel?"

"Always" - Mikey cross his arms - "But is always 'leader this' and 'leader that'. He's been all grumpy since that Foot Clan chick beat his ass the other day."

Foot Clan? You've heard about the Foot Clan. When you spied on Tombstone before jumping to kick his ass, he mentioned them twice. Sounded like a mix of a criminal organization and a feet cult. What was doing Mikey's brothers fighting them? They were vigilantes just like you? Except they couldn't show their faces to the world, even behind a mask. Or having a normal life.

Tonight you ended up learning more about Mikey and their. Still not knowing how they ended up as turtles or fighting a feet cult. But you couldn't ignore this. You just couldn't. God, you were so gonna get involved in this didn't you?

"[S/n], something wrong?" - Mikey's voice bribg you back to the present "If you had to go I get it"

"I'm fine Mikey " - you waved at him - "Just thinking something. We're did we stay?"

"On pizza flavor"

You exhaled from behind your mask. You're never gonna denied help to someone who needed it.

You were gonna help Mikey's family

In a way or another

Spider promise

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