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hajoon-iz-won · 2 months

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Magnetic Force of a Man

smut 18+ mdni

Pairing: ceo!Jay x worker!Y/N

"Do you know why I require all of my assistants to have Masters degrees?” he asked as he stood up and began to walk slowly around his desk.

"It's because I find educated women incredibly sexy," he said softly, leaning down close to my ear.

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, dom!Jay, impregnation, dirty talk, fingering, pussy fucking, female masturbation, age gap (4 years), exhibitionism, breeding, unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 5.4k

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I cursed as I stared down at the tear in my brand new sheer pantyhose. "Run-proof my ass! "

Shaking my head in dismay, I quickly looked around the large underground parking garage, praying to God that no one could see or hear me as I hurriedly positioned myself between my front door and the driver's seat of my beige sedan, hiking my lavender pencil skirt up to my ass, and then slid the ruined pair of hose the rest of the way down my legs.

Thankfully, I packed an extra pair!

I sat down on the side of the car seat and removed my violet high heels, almost like I was pulling out the replacements, taking them from the packing and quickly began slipping my feet inside.

The voice of a man said abruptly, "Yes, that's right."

My breath caught in my throat, I paused and turned to see the source of the voice. I was stunned by what I saw and halted abruptly, my new pantyhose halfway up my legs.

He had a great appearance. He was sitting at least fifty feet away from me, yet I could still see the platinum shine of his watch as he raised his left arm to check the time. He was dressed elegantly in a navy blue suit. His shiny black low-cut hair must have reached at least five eleven" in height.

With a dark satchel clasped in his right hand, he confidently walked towards the elevator labeled "PRIVATE." His broad shoulders, confident gait, and commanding presence evoked the image of a male model seen in GQ publications. His whole demeanor was confident.

I could tell that he was chatting to someone else and not about me or my pantyhose dilemma when a blue light blinked next to his ear. He never even gave me a sidelong glance.

I eventually snapped back to reality as he slid behind one of the pillars and finished pulling on my pantyhose. I tucked my skirt in and put my stilettos back on, eager to begin my first day of training as an executive assistant for Park Industries within the enormous, imposing Park Business building. (It seems the corporation required more than one because it was so large.)

I'd never seen or heard of Jay Park, the CEO of the company, before applying for this job. Even though I had looked him up online, all the pictures I could find of him included him wearing dark sunglasses and hats, which made me think he was probably a very secretive person. It appeared that he would much rather maintain a very low profile than be in the spotlight.

Nothing could have prepared me for the day I visited the Park Building for the first time, even though I had finished an internship at a Fortune 500 corporation close to my college campus.

My first interview had been with a woman named Son Eunsaem. She'd had a highly professional appearance and a no-nonsense attitude. She hadn't smiled once during the interview.

I was surprised when I got a call back for a second interview. That was where I met the other executive assistants. Park Industries had an executive assistant for each and every department in the company, and I had applied to the marketing department.

And I started working on the actual job today. At nine o'clock, I had my official orientation meeting, and then I was meant to meet with Jay Park, the company's CEO.

On their first day of work, all new hires were required to meet with the CEO, who was said to like having face-to-face meetings with each and every one of his staff members. I'll admit that I was anxious, but I was also interested to see this billionaire's true appearance.

The thirty-story building housed the marketing department on its twenty-fifth floor. At the orientation, there was another new hire in addition to me. Ryu Hanbin was his name, and he had been employed in the software department.

At orientation, our ID cards were issued to each of us. We were granted entry to the elevators, break facilities, and exits reserved for employees only. My heart started to race inside my chest as the orientation was coming to a conclusion.

Hanbin and I were taken to a private employee elevator and showed how to use our ID cards to operate it. Jay Park's office was on the top floor, and that's where our orientation leader, a middle-aged woman named Won Chaerin, led us up.

As the elevator door opened at the pinnacle floor, we had been greeted with the aid of using a short, stout, but very neat and well-groomed bald guy with a cleanly-shaven face in a vibrant purple pantsuit.

"Welcome to Park Land,” he stated with a welcoming grin as he reached out to shake our hands. "That's what we name the pinnacle floor, right here." He appeared to laugh after each sentence he spoke. “My call is Jinyoung, however all of us right here calls me Jin.” Another laugh.

What a unusual guy, I thought.

He led us down a hallway that ended with a reception table and a small living room area. There had been high-returned black leather-based chairs and a large flat-display tv withinside the ready area. There additionally regarded to be a bar of a few kind in the back of the reception table.

"Y'all can simply make yourselves comfortable whilst I allow Mr. Park recognize you are right here,” he instructed us with every other laugh earlier than sashaying returned to his spot in the back of the reception table.

"Thank you,” I instructed him as I took a seat in one of the leather-based chairs and crossed my legs.

As I sat ready, my heart commenced to overcome so rapid that it felt like it'd leap up out of my throat at any second. A stolen look over at Hanbin noticed his foot nervously tapping in opposition to the carpeted floor, and I felt relieved that I wasn't the simplest worried individual withinside the room.

A second later, the telephone on Jin's table rang, and he spoke back it on speaker.

"Send Ms. Y/L/N in first,” the voice said in a deep, authoritative tone.

"Right away, sir," Jin answered as he glanced over towards me.

I stood up and accompanied him down but every other lengthy hallway, with stylish artwork lining the partitions and porcelain statues each few feet.

At the quit of the hall, there has been a fancy-searching door with a platinum door knob.

"Knock, knock,” Jin said in a singsong-like voice as he knocked on it twice before turning the knob and pushing it open. “Ms. Y/L/N, meet Mr. Jay Park.”

He waited for me to step inside the large, elaborately decorated office before shutting the door behind me.

I stood there, with my back to the door and my orientation folder in my hand, not sure what to do next. Mr. Park had his head down and was doing something on his phone, but as soon as the door closed, he looked directly up at me, and my jaw almost hit the floor in utter awe.

Jay Park was none other than the sexy, model-esque man who'd been walking through the employee parking garage earlier.

I knew I was staring, but I didn't care. The man was a real-life Adonis.

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N. Come. Have a seat.”

It was more of an order than a request, but I didn't mind. He had the most hypnotizing pair of eyes. They were a deep, dark br, and I felt as if I could get lost in them if I stared too long.

He didn't smile, but he didn't frown. He was eyeing me curiously as I made my way over to the chair in front of his huge, rectangular desk. I felt as if he was sizing me up for something... something other than just this job position.

"So, Ms. Y/L/N, you are twenty-four and you have an MS in Business Management. Impressive. What are your plans in the next five years?”

I felt completely on the spot. I cleared my throat before speaking.

"Well, I'm hoping to be working a job I love, maybe get promoted, and start moving up in the ranks."

"Hmm," he said quietly.

I leaned forward a bit and noticed that he had a folder open with my resume, cover letter, and some photos of me inside.

"Do you know why I require all of my assistants to have Masters degrees?” he asked as he stood up and began to walk slowly around his desk.

My heart sped up and began to beat harder than ever. He had removed his suit jacket, and his white silk shirt hugged his toned upper body with flair, accenting the broadness of his shoulders.

I shook my head and swallowed hard as my body temperature began to rise. No man had ever had such a profound effect on me. I could actually feel heat starting to build within my core and a noticeable tingling between my thighs.

He walked around to the back of my chair and stood behind me. My heart was beating a billion beats per minute.

"It's because I find educated women incredibly sexy," he said softly, leaning down close to my ear.

I shuddered at the feel of his breath against my lobe. My body was completely on fire for this man, and he hadn't even touched me. I was at a loss for words.

I wanted to glance up at him, but I was frozen in place like a stone statue, and all I could do was sit there facing forward as I waited to see what was going to happen next. From behind me, I heard him inhale deeply and then exhale slowly.

“Ahh, your perfume is intoxicating, but I sense something else about you, Ms. Y/L/N. You are in your prime,” he stated sensuously, his voice barely more than a whisper.

His lips were so close to my neck that his breath felt hot against my skin. It caused a shiver to run down my spine, and I had to muster every ounce of strength to keep a moan from escaping my lips.

Then, suddenly, he stood straight up and walked back around to the other side of his desk, and his demeanor had returned to a strictly professional one.

"Mrs. Son was quite impressed with you and spoke very highly of your interview," he said plainly as he sat back down in his chair.

"Really? Wow," I replied.

"You sound surprised," he said with a slight grin. "I know she can come across as somewhat ‘rigid, but it's all just part of how she does her job. She's extremely professional and would make an excellent poker player, no doubt.”

He chuckled slightly at his comment, and I uttered a small giggle as well.

"Well, I'm certain you'll be a definite asset to Park Industries, Ms. Y/L/N. Welcome to the team,” he said with a smile.

His smile revealed a set of the most perfect pearly whites I had ever seen up close. While staring at them, I almost missed the fact that he'd also extended his hand to me.

"Thank you, Mr. Park,” I said nervously, returning his smile with one of my own.

"You have a lovely smile, Ms. Y/L/N," he stated softly, still holding onto my hand after I'd stopped shaking it.

“Thanks,” I said coyly, tearing my eyes away from his before I became completely lost in them.

He ran his thumb slowly across the side of my hand before finally letting it go. That small, simple touch from him only added more fuel to the fire that was already building in my loins.

“Ms. Y/L/N? ”He called out to me just as I was about to leave his office.

"Yes?" I replied, turning around to look at him one more time.

"I'm having a small meeting this evening at the Italy Garden restaurant. The dress code is semi-formal. Can you be ready by 7:00?”

"Uhh, yes. Certainly, Mr. Park,” I replied, caught completely off guard.

"Great. I'll send a car to your place at 7:00, then.”

I left his office feeling flustered in more ways than one. It had been more than a year since I'd last had sex, and my attraction to Mr. Park was anything but subtle. He had a magnetic effect on me, one that I knew I was incapable of fighting.

I walked swiftly down the hall, past the small lounge where Hanbin was still seated, and into the ladies' restroom directly adjacent to Jin's reception desk. Breathing hard, I went into one of the stalls, set my folder down on the back of the commode, hiked my skirt up to my waist, and yanked my pants down to my thighs.

Panting like an animal in heat, I sat down on the seat and spread my legs.

"Mmm," I muttered as I closed my eyes and placed my right hand on the crotch of my thin satin pants.

Yanking my pants to the side, I exposed my moist, partially-swollen bud and began to massage it. Another moan escaped my lips as I bucked my hips and rubbed my pussy faster and harder.

I imagined that Mr. Park was in the bathroom stall with me and that he had pulled my pants to the side. It was his lips and tongue against my throbbing, swollen bulb, causing sighs and moans of delight to escape my mouth and sending me into a frenzy of pleasure.

“Ohhh,” I murmured softly as I pictured him rubbing the head of his hard, pulsating cock against my slick, hot slit.

I imagined his hands grabbing my ass cheeks and squeezing them hard in a fit of primal, uncontrollable passion. I pictured him entering me slowly at first, until his rock-hard dick was deep inside my pussy, stretching me to the limit.

"Fuuuck," I whispered as I plunged my fingers as deep into my warm, wet tunnel as they would go. "Yesss! Fuck me, Mr. Park!"

I imagined his cock moving in and out of me, faster and harder, fucking like wild animals as we both got closer and closer to our climaxes. Completely and totally engulfed in how unbelievably good the sex felt, neither one of us even cared that we were fucking unprotected.

"I want you to cum inside me, Mr. Park,” I imagined telling him. “Oh fuck, yessss! Cum in my pussy! Fill me up with your cum."

I didn't even care if I got pregnant or not; I just needed to feel his hot cum inside of me.

I was right on the brink of my orgasm, and I could already tell it was going to be a really good one. As I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from crying out in pleasure, I pictured myself biting down on Mr. Park's ear to stifle my passion-filled moans.

My legs began to shake, and my hips bucked uncontrollably as a powerful climax wracked my entire body. I imagined Mr. Park squeezing my ass cheeks hard as his cock squirted into my cunt, filling me to the brim.

"Ohhh," I whispered, uttering a sigh of satisfaction as my orgasm began to wane.

After taking a moment to enjoy the afterglow, I quickly cleaned myself up, left the restroom, and headed back down to the 25th floor to finish out my workday.

I had just finished putting on my makeup when I noticed it was 6:45. The dress I had selected for tonight's meeting was a long, form-fitting silver cocktail gown I'd bought last spring. It was elegant, with a touch of sex appeal. The back dipped below the waist, and the front wrapped around the neck.

At 6:54, I heard a horn blow outside of my apartment. I slid into a pair of silver stiletto sandals, grabbed a small silver purse, and headed outside.

"Wow!" I exclaimed when I saw the pearly white stretch limousine waiting at the curb.

A tuxedo-clad chauffer opened my door for me and helped me into the back seat.

The inside of the limousine was immaculate! There was a fully-stocked bar with liquor, wine, and champagne. There were wine glasses on a glass shelf next to the bar. There was also a small fridge with fruits, cheeses, and other exotic-looking snack foods.

I helped myself to a glass of champagne and turned on the satellite radio to listen to on the way to the restaurant.

When we arrived about twenty minutes later, the chauffeur helped me out of the limo, and I walked inside. An older male host in a black and white suit was standing at a podium near the entrance.

"Good evening, Madam. Welcome to the Italy Garden restaurant. Do you have a reservation?” he asked.

“Umm, yes. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I'm here for a dinner meeting with Mr. Jay Park,” I replied anxiously, trying hard to hide how nervous I truly was.

The five-star dining facility was way out of my league and price range. I had never been in a place so upscale and fancy. There were scores of expensive-looking pictures hanging on the walls and exquisite artifacts and statues in and around the corners.

I followed the host to a luxurious VIP balcony area where Jay Park was already seated and waiting for me.

"You look amazing, Ms. Y/L/N," he said, flashing that billion-dollar smile that made me want to melt right where I stood.

"Thank you," I replied shyly, returning a smile his way.

The host pulled out my chair, and I sat down.

"I've taken the liberty to order us a bottle of the finest champagne this place has to offer,” he told me with a grin. “What are you in the mood for?”

I couldn't pronounce a single dish on the menu.

"I'll have whatever you're having," I said softly, closing my menu and setting it to the side. I didn't want to risk embarrassing myself in front of our waiter.

"This champagne is delightful," I exclaimed before taking another sip.

"Only the best for a woman as perfect as you, Y/N," Jay stated sweetly.

It was the first time he'd ever called me by my first name. I could feel my cheeks reddening as I smiled somewhat sheepishly.

"So where are the rest of the meeting attendees?” I asked inquisitively as I glanced around the area we were seated in.

"This meeting is just for you and me, Y/N," Jay said in a sultry tone of voice. "There's something about you, Y/N, that drives me crazy. Ever since you walked into my office, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind."

I felt the same way about him. He was definitely the most attractive, magnetic, and alluring man I had ever met. I was just too shy to tell him so.

Dinner was absolutely incredible. The food was delicious, and I'd probably had a bit more champagne than I'd actually intended to drink. After a perfect meal, Jay led me back out to the limousine, and we both got into the backseat.

As we talked about our backgrounds, childhoods, and future plans while drinking top shelf champagne, I suddenly remembered that I hadn't even asked him where we were headed. Before I could even form the words to inquire, the limo slowed to a stop.

"Where are we?" I asked, just as the chauffeur opened the door.

“My place,” Jay replied with a grin. “I hope that's okay with you. There's something I want to show you."

Normally, I would have thought twice about going to the home of a man I'd just met, but there was just something about Jay that made him all but irresistible to me.

His house was beyond magnificent. The outside of it took up damned-near an entire city block, and the front yard stretched out around the sides of the house. There was a huge, circular, paved driveway at the front, and the limo had stopped directly in the middle.

I couldn't even imagine what it was he wanted to show me. I felt both excited and anxious simultaneously.

Taking my hand inside his, he proceeded to lead me through his humongous residence, showing me all of the different paintings and other extraordinary decor and informing me of the countries from which they'd been ordered. Finally, we came to this nice, dimly lit room with a beautiful faux fireplace against the rear wall. My eyes widened in amazement as we entered the romantic-looking space hand-in-hand.

"Wowww!" I exclaimed, as I had done several hundred times since we'd first gotten out of the limo. "This room is so..."

“Enchanting? ”Jay stated in a questioning tone, finishing my exclamation for me.

"Yeah! Definitely!” I agreed as I looked around in bewilderment.

There was a bar counter in the far left area of the room and what appeared to be a fully-stocked mini bar behind it. A lavish-looking cream-colored sectional sofa was in the middle of the space, facing the fireplace, and there was a huge matching rug laid out in front of it.

Just as I was about to remove my shoes out of respect for the rug, the lights suddenly dimmed lower, and about a hundred faux candles all lit up simultaneously. Also, smooth, relaxing, slow music immediately began to play. The candlelight appeared to dance to the beat of the music.

I was totally speechless and utterly astonished. I had never seen anything like it before. I glanced over at Jay, who had already removed his own shoes and was filling two wine glasses at the built-in mini bar.

"Please, have a seat, Y/N,” he said amorously, nodding toward the sectional.

I sat down and continued to enjoy the ambiance of the supremely romantic setting until he soon came over to join me and placed a glass of champagne in my hand.

"So? Do you like it?" he asked after taking a sip of his drink.

"Like it? This is absolutely amazing!" I said with a huge grin.

"I'm glad you think so. I've never brought any woman into this room until tonight.

"I find that extremely hard to believe,” I said honestly."

I may be a lot of things, Y/N, but I am definitely not a liar,” he asserted. “Men like me don't have to be in order to get what we want."

“Now that, I absolutely do believe,” I replied with a grin. “So, what is it that you want with me? ”

"Ahh, the billion-dollar question," he said sultrily.

Just then, a very popular song began to play.

"Ohh, I love this song!" he said excitedly as he stood up and held out his hand. “Dance with me.”

I didn't refuse. He pulled me upward and into his strong arms, and I wrapped mine around his neck. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating. I closed my eyes and pressed my body against his as we swayed to the music. Caught up in the moment, I felt like I could stay in his arms like that forever.

Then, suddenly, he pulled away for a moment and looked deep into my eyes.

“Y/N, you have it all. I adore your womanly physique, your stunningly bright brown eyes, and the fact that you are a very intelligent young woman. You are damned-near flawless. From the very first moment you walked into my office, I have had an undeniable, overwhelming attraction to you, and I know you feel it too."

I was completely speechless. I mean, what was I supposed to say? How do you even reply to a statement like that?

In all honesty, I was just as attracted to him as he was to me, but with him being both my boss and such a wealthy, sophisticated man, I think I felt a little bit intimidated. I'd never imagined myself being wined and dined with a billionaire Adonis like him.

I just kind of stood there, gazing into his tantalizing eyes like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush.

"Y/N,” he whispered as he suddenly spun me around so that he was behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Yes," I whispered back to him as the feeling of his warm breath against the nape of my neck instantly made me moist between my thighs.

I moaned as his soft lips brushed against the lobe of my him,. My body was instantaneously on fire for him and he had barely touched me.

"I want you," he whispered as his manly hands found my breasts and cupped them through the thin fabric of my cocktail dress.

The tips of his fingers found my nipples, causing another moan to escape my mouth. I felt his hand on the back of my neck, and then suddenly, my dress slid carelessly to the floor. I was braless, and this seemed to turn Jay on even more.

He groaned as I felt his manhood begin to stiffen against my ass.

"Y/N, you're fucking perfect,” he said gruffly, his voice raspy against my ear. “I want you. And you want me, too, don't you?

"Yes, Jay, yes," I moaned.

His hands squeezed my breasts, and I sighed loudly, arching my back. I felt his stiffening cock twitch in his pants.

"I'm twenty-eight years old, and I'm not getting any younger, Y/N. I've been looking for the right woman to bear my offspring, and you are the perfect specimen. I know you probably walked into the Park building today with your own plans and aspirations for your career and whatnot, but I have to be honest with you; I want you to bear my children.”

It was a lot to take in. He had certainly said a mouthful. I wasn't so sure about having kids with a man I'd just met, but he was definitely different from any other man I'd ever met, and odds were that I'd probably never meet anyone quite like him again.

His right hand slid down my midsection and into the front of my satin pants. I hissed with delight, biting down on my lip to stifle my cry of pleasure. He was applying just the right amount of pressure to my bud, and I was grinding my crotch against his hand.

"Don't hold back, Y/N,” he ordered in a breathy voice. “Let it all out!”

With that, he slid two fingers inside my dripping-wet pussy. I thrust my hips forward and let out a cry.

“Fuck, your pussy is already so wet for me! ”He declared with a grunt, pressing his erection against my ass.

Just as I was about to climax, he stopped, pulled his fingers out of my pants, and turned me around to face him. He put his fingers in his mouth and sucked my excitement out of them. My face flushed with need.

Then he pushed me down onto my knees as he undid his pants, releasing his stiff, throbbing cock. It was large—larger than I'd expected. It was definitely the biggest dick I'd ever seen in my twenty-four years on this earth. But I didn't care. I was going to try my damnedest to swallow it whole.

I caressed the shaft as I slid my tongue around the tip of his cock, teasing it gently, and then sliding it down into my mouth as far as it would go. I sucked it slowly and easily at first, and then I took my hand and used it with the rhythm of my mouth, sucking it as hard and fast as I could.

Groans fell from Jay's lips as he grabbed my hair and fucked my mouth. Then suddenly, he stopped me.

Easing the rest of the way out of his pants, he pulled me up toward him again and kissed me passionately, using his tongue to invade my mouth hungrily. I moaned as he began to trail his lips and tongue down my neck, pausing to lick, suck, and fondle both of my breasts, and then continuing down my belly until he reached the top of my pants.

With his teeth, he worked my pants down over my hips and buttocks, letting them drop to the floor near my dress. He parted my thighs slightly, using his fingers to slide my folds apart and massage my bud. Then, his lips replaced his fingers against my moist, pulsating pussy, and I cried out in sheer passion.

He was so skilled and talented—his tongue was like a fucking vibrating sex toy! He grabbed and squeezed my ass with one hand and used the other to slide two fingers back inside my pussy. I couldn't take it anymore!

"Fucckkk, I'm going to cum, Jay! I'm going to cum...so...fucking..." I couldn't even finish my sentence. His fingers pressed against my g-spot, and his tongue darted fast and hard against my pussy, sending me completely over the edge with the most powerful, intense, earth-shattering orgasm I had ever experienced.

My entire body shuddered and shook, and my legs tensed up. I grabbed his head as my crotch jerked forward uncontrollably against his face.

"Shiiiiittt! Oh fuuuuck!" I screamed loudly, unable to speak any other words.

When my climax finally began to wane, just as I was about to catch my breath, Jay suddenly lifted my legs up on his shoulders and gently pushed me down onto the soft, cream-colored rug lying me down on my back.

Not wasting a second, he slid his huge, hard cock into me slowly, with my legs still hoisted up on his shoulders.

I moaned long and hard as he stretched me to my limit, sliding deeper into my pussy than any other man had ever been.

“Fuck, Y/N, your pussy's so tight and wet! ," he exclaimed, moaning as he began to thrust in and out of me, going deeper with every stroke.

I was moaning so loudly that I could barely even hear the music playing anymore. His own groans became louder and longer with every thrust of his burly hips.

I reached up and wrapped my hands around his neck as he started fucking me harder and faster. It wasn't long before I felt a second orgasm building, getting closer and closer...

I still wasn't exactly certain about letting him impregnate me and make me the mother of his children, but the sex was fucking earth-shattering. I had never been fucked so good before! I felt his huge, stiff cock plunging in and out of me as I cried out in delirious pleasure.

Just as I was about to scream out loud, having reached my second powerful orgasm, he let out a loud, long groan, and I knew he was there, too. We were climaxing together simultaneously, and for a brief moment, it was like the two of us became one in our own world of bliss.

I felt his cock spurting his hot cum deep inside of me, filling my pussy to the brim, but it felt so fucking wonderful that I didn't give a shit. Besides, he was rich and handsome and could fuck like a damn machine.

As we finally came back to our senses, Jay kissed my lips as he slid out of me and plopped down on the rug beside me. The fake fire was still going, and the lights and music were still playing.

"That was, by far, the best sex I've ever had in my life,” I said breathily as I looked over at him.

"Me too," he said sultrily as he slid his arm beneath my neck.

With that, his eyes closed, as did mine, and we both drifted off into a satisfied slumber.

Jay and I continued to fuck like rabbits over the next few weeks, having hot, steamy, amazing sex every chance we got. And every time he came, he shot his hot cum deep inside of me.

Three weeks later, my pregnancy test came back positive. Jay was ecstatic, of course. At first, I had mixed emotions. I was going to become a mother. Was I really ready?

He immediately made me quit my job and put me in a beautiful condo with a view that overlooked the entire city. He found me the best doctors in the area and accompanied me to all of my prenatal appointments.

So I wouldn't be able to work for a while. I mean, babies don't stay babies. They eventually grow up into adults who can take care of themselves. Who knows? Once I've raised my kids, perhaps I'll still want to go back into the workforce.

For now, though, I think I'll just enjoy swelling with Jay's seed, growing rounder and riper by the day.

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cobragardens · 7 months

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CORRECTED & UPDATED Clothes + Equivocation = Romance: The Husbands in 1793 (Part 2)

From Part 1:

Crowley and Aziraphale share clothes as a common interest. They don't have the same style, but they're both aware of current fashions, and Heaven and Hell aren't. You can't tell me Hastur or Uriel would recognize the significance of Crowley saying "Dressed like that, he's asking for trouble" about someone else while wearing black stockings and cravat and waistcoat himself. And that means Anything the husbands communicate to each other through clothing choices goes undetected by their masters.

SO. With all this in mind, let's go through the 1793 scene again and look at what the husbands communicate to each other without using words or actions to do it, and how their clothing choices help them do that.

Hello. I'm here and I know you're in a spot of trouble. I like you.

It's you! I'm so happy you're here!

Sheen's voice and face when Aziraphale says Crowley's name in this moment makes me think that Aziraphale is in love with Crowley--the demon Crowley, not the angel who became Crowley--long before he consciously realizes it in 1941. The way Sheen has Aziraphale say Crowley's name is so soft.

The way you're he way you're lounging there and what you're wearing are uncomfortably sexy and also incredibly inappropriate for the Bastille at this moment in history. I suppose this is very on-brand for you.

Crowley: I listen when you talk about your interests and goals and keep track of your general whereabouts and pursuits.

Either they've spoken with each other recently or Crowley has been keeping tabs on Aziraphale. Aziraphale isn't upset that Crowley knows what he's been up to, which suggests the former, which in turn suggests they're in semi-regular (every few years or decades) contact at this point.

Also we've now got a general idea for when Aziraphale opens his bookshop.

Okay, brief tangent while I point out two things here.

One, my favorite thing about Aziraphale is that he is a sensualist. This is libertine behavior, y'all. He 'popped across the Channel' during the Reign of Terror because he wanted a specific carnal experience of a specific really lovely food.

And two, even when Aziraphale does weird, frivolous, silly, ill-advised things like this, things that clearly baffle Crowley...Crowley never makes fun of him. He never laughs at him. He always has this look of disbelief on his face, like Am I hearing this?--

--but Crowley never, not once, shuts Aziraphale down.

Until Aziraphale asks him to go back to Heaven.

Anyway. Back to our scene.

Aziraphale: I am unwilling to abandon my sartorial sensibilities even when it threatens my corporation, and I am insane, so I think this is reasonable. At least I'm not wearing a Slutty Monarchist outfit.

You're happy to see me, aren't you. You're relieved to see a demon. Go on, say it.

Tennant's delivery of this line cracks me up. It is so gloating and flirtatious and smarmy and indulgent of Aziraphale.

I am very happy to see you and lucky you're here, and I am willing to say so sincerely even though you are gloating about it.

And then there's the exchange where Crowley very carefully doesn't answer Aziraphale's question about why Crowley's in the area but also reassures him that he didn't cause the French Revolution and Aziraphale can still like him.

We can't speak openly about this. It's dangerous for me.

Message received: I won't mention what you did again. But I want to show my gratitude and spend time with you; is it safe for us to get lunch together?

Yes, but one of us is going to have to change so we can walk the streets of Paris without getting arrested again, and I'm the one doing the rescuing here so it's not going to be me. Your 'standards' will have to take the hit.

Fine, you've got me over a barrel. But hey, if I have to wear the silly hat anyway I might as well go all the way and wear your colors. Except not monarchist. And not slutty.

Oh, I don't know, I thought you looked pretty slutty too. (Meaning 2) I'm having this guy killed for touching you, btw. I will kill anyone who tries to hurt you. Immediately. I see you are having the guy who assaulted you killed in a copy of the clothes he would have killed you for wearing. I wholeheartedly approve of this (Meaning 3), your sexiness in those clothes notwithstanding. The utter insouciance of Crowley's little sniff and the inquiry about what they'll have for lunch drive home hard that Crowley could not be more unbothered by Aziraphale having the man who tried to harm him beheaded.

What really tickles me about this line is not only that Crowley's joke has three distinct meanings, but that Meaning 1 (the meaning that exists without reference to Crowley's clothes) is the opposite of Meaning 3--Anybody wearing clothes like that deserves what they get (Meaning 1) versus It rocks how you just killed someone who tried to kill you for wearing those clothes (Meaning 3)--and yet because of the clothes he's wearing, both meanings come through with perfect clarity, dependent only on whether the listener(s) can see his clothing and know its significance. Aziraphale can, and does, so he receives Crowley's real meaning. Hell/Heaven can't, and don't, so they just hear Meaning 1.

And then we get Aziraphale's pleased little smile and look of tranquil interest as he watches Jean-Claude dragged off to his death. Its such an interesting facial expression for an angel watching a demon have someone killed having someone killed, isn't it?

Crowley has just told him they're probably being listened to by Hell. That means Aziraphale, Crowley, and the audience all know this is the most Aziraphale can safely react. Aziraphale can't show any overt approval of anything an agent of Hell does, because by definition anything a demon does is demonic and angels must be against That Sort of Thing. In light of the fact that Aziraphale is the one who causes Jean-Claude's death, I now argue that this responsibility not to react too positively to something the other side has done falls on Crowley, and that the reason he makes this joke is primarily to tell Aziraphale I see what you've just done, and I like it without identifying aloud what exactly has just happened for their presumed eavesdroppers because an angel arranging a human's murder is the sort of thing in which head offices might take undue interest.

The awareness that their conversation is not private means the audience and Aziraphale know they need to be watching and listening for multiple meanings from Crowley, and it also means the audience and Crowley know we need to be watching Aziraphale's face closely right now. And that little smile shows us that Aziraphale has received Meanings 2 and 3 of "he was asking for trouble."

Or, at minimum, Meaning 3; even if Aziraphale picks up on Meaning 2--You looked really sexy in your vintage clothes, you crazy weirdo--that's not a message he can afford to react to at all. But he does react to the other coded communication Crowley is sending when he says "Dressed like that, he was asking for trouble" while dressed for trouble himself: I will kill anyone who tries to hurt you. Immediately. People who think your clothes give them the right to hurt you can go to Hell, and I am delighted you just sent one of them there.

You just had someone beheaded for assaulting me, I acknowledge and am pleased by your delight at my cleverness. and I could not be happier. Would you like to come enjoy one of my very favorite sensual pleasures with me?

***

EDIT: To be honest I like this reading better than my original, incorrect understanding of the story despite the fact that it is slightly less romantic, both because I love the idea of Crowley as a thirsty witness to Aziraphale quietly being a vengeful badass, because it gives us a glimpse of something important about Aziraphale's character that we don't get to see elsewhere: Aziraphale doesn't have a problem with killing per se.

We learn from the business with the Antichrist that, like Crowley, Az. can't bring himself to kill children. We learn from his perturbation at the Flood and the Crucifixion that he doesn't hold with killing innocents. He gave away his flaming sword. But this scene establishes that Aziraphale will actively cause someone's death if he feels they deserve it. That seems like an important character note for him that may become relevant in Season 3 (feathers crossed that it happens).

And I think there's something else in there too, something about how Aziraphale kills Jean-Claude, not with outright violence but with a trick. One party thinks he's in control of the situation; with a wave of his hand, suddenly a turnip has turned into an inkwell an executioner has turned into the condemned--or at least it seems that way long enough to get the job done. It's a bait-and-switch, like stage magic, and it slots right in to the motif in Good Omens of sleight-of-hand, of characters wearing other characters' appearances (for more on this, see fan theories re: Maggie is possessed), of supplying false meanings to an audience to disguise the true actions going on behind the scenes.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens s2 #good omens analysis #good omens clothes #good omens costumes #ineffable husbands #aziracro #azcrow #azicrow #good omens equivocation #good omens 1984 #good omens clothing and equivocation #good omens 1793 #good omens clothes and equivocation 2

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sluttywoozi · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 17: Spectrophilia + Woozi

For @moonwalker-witchgrrrl and Me 💖

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~1.6k

Pairing: Jihoon x Reader | Genre: smut

Warnings: voyeurism, exhibitionism, I make the rules so ghosts are corporeal during sex, the cowboy hat stays on during sex, f. masturbation, implied consent, big dick!jihoon, temperature difference, somnophilia mention, piv sex

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, a tease

There’s a fucking ghost in your apartment, you swear to god.

Either that or you’ve become so forgetful you don’t even realize you’re forgetting things. Things like turning off faucets and closing cabinet doors and not leaving the oven on when you go to sleep. The first two, you could excuse, but you know you’re not responsible for the last one, both because you’d never do that to your electric bill and because you don’t want to die a fiery death.

You only grow more sure when you start to notice a chill in the air too. Your thermostat says one thing but your apartment feels another, and as you sit on your bed pulling on a sweater and a pair of socks, you curse the ghost inhabiting your home.

“Fucking freezing, why can’t you just go somewhere else, ugh,” you mutter to yourself, rubbing your hands together and swearing again when you realize you didn’t bring your gloves in the move.

“I would if I could, sweetheart.”

Letting out a bloodcurdling scream, you swivel in place, searching for the source of the sardonic voice. Your eyes land on various parts of your bedroom, finding nothing out of place or out of the ordinary, until they reach your doorway.

There stands a man, shirtless but dressed in a black blazer and jeans, with a cowboy hat atop his messy black hair. He sends you a fake smile, tips his hat sarcastically, and disappears before you can even blink.

Huh.

The ghost is kinda… hot, if you’re being honest with yourself. He’s not incredibly tall but he’s broad as hell, with defined abs and big, long-fingered hands, and you’re not sure why he’s dressed like he was but it’s working for him.

You know you should be scared, should feel like running far, far away from here, but you sort of want to put on a little show instead. He’s probably gotten plenty if he’s been here since you moved in, but this time, it’ll be with your knowledge.

“Have you been watching me?” You ask, scooting back on the bed and laying yourself down before tugging the sweater and your shirt up to your collarbones to expose your breasts. Your nipples pebble in the cold air and you cover them with your hands, squeezing the soft flesh and sighing.

“Not much else to do. You don’t have a TV.”

You gasp, looking over to the corner of the room the voice came from and finding the same man leaning against the wall with half-lidded eyes and his thumbs hooked in his pockets.

“So you’ve seen all this before?” You trail your hands down your sternum and over your stomach, pushing at your leggings and underwear and jumping when he disappears and pops back up at the end of your bed.

“I’ve seen but I haven’t looked,” he responds, leaning down and bracing himself on your comforter to watch as you kick your way out of your leggings.

“Wanna look now?” You flirt, smiling sweetly and batting your eyelashes while you slowly spread your legs. His mouth flattens into a thin line, his eyes growing dark and desirous when they set on the space between your thighs.

“Why?”

“Because you’re cute and I’m lonely,” you answer honestly, not seeing any reason to lie to a ghost.

“Aren’t you scared of me?”

“Should I be? I mean, you’re wearing a cowboy hat and no shirt.”

Giggling softly, you drag your fingers from your entrance to your clit, smearing your wetness around to ease your movements. He contemplates for a moment, staring at you all the while, before nodding with finality and climbing on the bed, settling on his stomach between your legs.

He’s a bit too close for comfort but you suppose he should have a front row seat for the show you’re giving him, plus it’s not like you mind having all of his focus and attention on you.

“What’s your name?” You ask as you dip a finger inside, quickly adding another when you notice him biting his lip at the sight.

“Jihoon,” he says distractedly, his voice muted and short.

“Nice to meet you, Jihoon. Aren’t you going to ask my name?”

“I already know it, I read your mail.”

“Nosy Jihoon!” You tease, sucking in a breath as you curl your fingers and search for your g-spot.

“Like I said, you don’t have a TV,” he responds in what you think might be a joke, and you would laugh but you’re too busy moaning, two fingers of one hand prodding the rough patch inside of you and two fingers of the other rubbing circles into your throbbing clit.

“Want me to get one?” You offer once you catch your breath, watching as he pushes his hips into the bed and furrows his brows. You wonder if that feels good, if he can feel pleasure, and decide you’re going to find out one way or another.

“Don’t need one if I can watch you like this,” he smirks as he eyes you up and down, lingering on your heaving breasts and landing between your spread legs. His tongue traces his bottom lip as he stares, making you wish you could feel them, feel his lips and tongue savoring you, marking you, learning you.

Does Jihoon want that too? Does he wish he could touch you and taste you and feel you?

“Of course I do. How could I not? You’re too fucking tempting.”

You didn’t mean to speak out loud, but you’re glad you did. He almost sounds annoyed at the fact that he wants you, which makes you grin a satisfied little grin and fuck yourself harder, sliding a third finger inside and sighing at the stretch.

He swears under his breath, thoughtlessly pushing himself up with a hand on your thigh and not even noticing that he actually makes contact. You notice though, feel the icy pressure of him immediately, both of your hands flying away from your pussy as you reach for him.

You feel the silk of his suit jacket under your palms before your hands slide up to his neck, the softness of his freezing skin shocking. He realizes soon enough, his eyes growing wide and his mouth dropping open as he sinks his fingers into the meat of your thigh and takes hold of your wrist with his free hand.

Your fingers are still wet and he furrows his brows, tugs your hand away from his face, and sucks them into his mouth, immediately groaning at the taste of you.

This changes everything, and you both know it.

There’s no need for discussion. You move in unison, Jihoon sitting up on his knees and heaving you into his lap as you wrap your legs around his waist, his clothes vanishing into thin air though his cowboy hat remains. You’re still stretched open from your fingers and the head of his cock slips in easily, but he’s long and thick as hell so the rest of the way is almost a struggle.

You take it like you love it though, because you do, you love how he fills you up, how he spreads you out, how you can feel him in your throat as he roots himself deep inside. His dick is cold like the rest of him and it’s not a sensation you’re used to but it’s not one you dislike either. If anything, it makes you feel hotter, the stark difference between the wet warmth of your pussy and the icy hardness of his cock enough to steal your breath.

You’re wet enough that he glides as he starts to fuck you, his fat dick pushing through the tightness of your walls to reach the end of your fluttering cunt. He’s making the hottest little punched out noises every time he bottoms out, his big hands tight on your hips and his eyes hooded as he stares down at you.

You wonder how long it’s been for him, if he died recently or years ago. Either way, he’s taking you like it’s been an eternity, pumping deep inside and lingering when the head of his cock kisses your cervix as if he doesn’t want to leave.

You don’t want him to leave either, your legs tightening around his waist as he draws his hips back, a happy moan leaving you when he snaps them forward, stuffing you full of his dick again and again and again.

You’re not ready for this to end but you’re already nearing the edge, your heartbeat in your pussy as his cock drags in and out of your squeezing walls. Jihoon seems like he could go on forever, making you wonder if ghosts have a refractory period. If not, you plan to take full advantage as many times as Jihoon allows.

You want his cock every morning and every night, want him to fuck you more ways than you can count. You want him to take you in your sleep and in the shower and on all the surfaces in your apartment. You want to sit on his dick like it’s a chair, feel him filling you up as you eat your dinner and read your books and knit your sweaters.

You want to have him all the time, and by the proud, lustful smirk stretching his lips, he knows it.

Maybe you should be embarrassed, but you find you couldn’t care less.

You’re already fucking a ghost, you might as well commit to it.

AN: yesterday i was in the middle of writing something super angsty and sad for this when i realized i wouldn't be able to finish it in time so i wrote something fun and horny instead!! yall may still get the angsty version tho so be warned

Kinktober Masterlist

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hd-junglebook · 5 days

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Little Dove

Quinn Hughes x Reader

masterlist link

a:n This is part 1 and officially my first ever Quinn Hughes fic, this series will be pretty long since I want to get into the details and emotions. There will be no skimping on details. Not round here partner.

also he looks so good in this gif good god!

summary: Sometimes Y/N's effort just isn't enough; every attempt seems to be futile and disregarded. The people she calls mom and dad do nothing but disappoint her, brushing her off as an ungrateful child. It seems the only person who can truly see her is Quinn.

Word Count - 4140

...

The sun had barely begun to peek through the towering skyscrapers of the bustling city as Y/N stepped out of her sleek, black car. Her red bottom heels clicked against the pavement with each confident stride, the sound echoing through the quiet morning air. She adjusted her perfectly tailored skirt, smoothing out any wrinkles that may have formed during her commute.

As she approached the imposing glass doors of her parents' company headquarters, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease.

Despite the success and prestige that came with working for her family's business, Y/N knew deep down that this wasn't her true calling. Nevertheless, she put on a brave face and pushed through the doors, ready to tackle another day.

The security guard, a friendly older gentleman named Frank, greeted her with a warm smile. "Good morning, Miss Y/N," he said, tipping his hat in her direction.

Y/N returned the smile, her red lipstick a striking contrast against her porcelain skin. "Good morning, Frank. I hope you had a lovely weekend," she replied, her voice smooth and polished, befitting her corporate persona.

As she made her way through the spacious lobby, her heels clicked against the polished marble floor, announcing her presence to the few early risers already at their desks. She entered the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, where her office was located.

Stepping out into the hallway, Y/N was greeted by the sight of her office, its glass walls doing little to provide privacy. The modern, minimalist design was a reflection of her parents' tastes rather than her own. She sighed.

With a deep breath, Y/N pushed open the glass door and entered her office, ready to start another day in a job that left her feeling unfulfilled, yearning for something more.

Y/N settled into her plush, ergonomic chair, the leather cool against her skin. She reached forward and pressed the power button on her sleek, silver computer, watching as the screen flickered to life. The familiar logo of her parents' company appeared, a constant reminder of her obligations and the path she felt pressured to follow.

The computer hummed quietly, Y/N began to sort through the stack of paperwork on her desk. She picked up a folder, her perfectly manicured nails a stark contrast against the crisp, white paper. Just as she was about to open the file, a buzzing sound emanated from her designer purse.

Curiosity piqued, Y/N reached into her bag and retrieved her phone. The screen displayed a new text message, and her heart skipped a beat as she read the name: Quinn. she opened the message.

"Hey princess," the text read, the words both endearing and frustrating.

Y/N sighed, leaning back in her chair as she contemplated her response. Quinn had a way of blurring the lines between playful banter and genuine affection, leaving her constantly questioning the nature of their relationship. His messages were often short and casual, but the term of endearment he used never failed to send a flutter through her chest.

Despite his repeated claims that he wasn't looking for anything serious, Quinn seemed to take pleasure in pushing the boundaries, leaving Y/N in a state of confusion and longing.

She knew she shouldn't let herself get too attached, but there was something about him that drew her in, making it difficult to maintain the emotional distance she knew was necessary.

With another sigh, Y/N set her phone back down on the desk, trying to focus on the task at hand. She knew she needed to establish clearer boundaries with Quinn, but the thought of pushing him away completely left an ache in her heart.

Y/n shook her head, attempting to clear her mind and concentrate on the paperwork before her, even as thoughts of Quinn lingered in the back of her mind.

…

Y/N's attention was drawn away from her mother's presentation as her phone buzzed once more. She discreetly glanced at the screen under the table, her heart racing as she saw Quinn's name appear again. Her cheeks flushed with a mixture of excitement and guilt as she read his messages.

"I miss you," the first text read, causing a warmth to spread through her chest. Before she could fully process the implications of his words, another message followed: "Are we still good for tmrw?"

Y/N's mind raced as she contemplated her response. She had agreed to go out with Quinn for dinner tomorrow, a decision she had made in a moment of weakness, longing for the thrill of his company.

Now, sitting in the business room with her parents, the reality of her situation came crashing down upon her.

She glanced up, her eyes meeting her father's stern gaze from across the table. He sat in his imposing grey chair, his posture straight and attentive as he listened to Dedra's presentation.

Y/N knew that her parents had high expectations for her, and the thought of disappointing them weighed heavily on her conscience.

As Dedra continued to explain the new company policy, Y/N found it increasingly difficult to focus. Her mind wandered to thoughts of Quinn, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and the effortless charm he exuded. She yearned to respond to his messages, to confirm their plans and lose herself in the excitement of their secret rendezvous.

Y/N's heart raced as she quickly typed out her response to Quinn, her fingers flying across the screen. She glanced up every few seconds, ensuring that her parents were still engaged in the presentation. With a final look of determination, she pressed send, a small thrill running through her body.

Almost instantly, her phone buzzed with Quinn's reply. "Wear that red dress I bought you."

Y/N's eyebrows raised in surprise, a smirk playing on her lips as she typed back, "The v neck dress?"

"Yeah, that one."

"I will ;), I have to go back to work, I'll text you later." Y/N sent the message, a giddy feeling bubbling up inside her chest. However, her momentary happiness was short-lived as she felt a sharp kick under the table. Her eyes snapped up to meet her father's disapproving gaze, his brow furrowed in irritation.

the meeting concluded around her, Y/N's coworkers filed out of the room, muttering their polite goodbyes. Soon, only Y/N and her parents remained, the tension in the air palpable. Her mother fixed her with a stern look, her voice laced with disappointment.

"Y/N, you're not taking this as seriously as you need to be. This will be you one day." She paused, her eyes narrowing. "Who were you talking to?"

Y/N's heart sank, knowing that lying to her parents would only make matters worse. She opened her mouth to respond, but her father cut her off.

"Was it that hockey guy?" He scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. "He sucks, he'll never be good enough. I should've paid him off four months ago if I knew he'd be such a distraction."

Y/N's cheeks burned with a mixture of shame and anger. She hated the way her parents spoke about Quinn, as if he were nothing more than a nuisance to be dealt with. She knew they would never approve of their relationship but hearing them talk about him so callously only strengthened her resolve.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N met her parents' gazes, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. "Quinn, and he's not a distraction.” Her mother's lips pressed into a thin line, disapproval etched into every line of her face.

Y/N's parents exchanged a knowing glance, their eyes filled with a mixture of disappointment and condescension. Her mother, Dedra, was a striking woman in her mid-50s, with perfectly coiffed blonde hair and a designer suit that hugged her slender frame.

Her father, Derek, was a tall, imposing man with salt-and-pepper hair and a perpetual scowl that seemed etched into his chiseled features.

Dedra leaned forward, her elbows resting on the polished mahogany table. "Y/N, darling," she began, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "you know we only want what's best for you. This... Quinn," she said his name as if it left a bitter taste in her mouth, "he's not good for you. He's a distraction, a phase. You'll see that soon enough."

Y/N felt her stomach twist, the all-too-familiar sensation of her parents' manipulation taking hold. She opened her mouth to protest, but Derek cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Enough, Y/N," he growled, his deep voice reverberating through the empty conference room. "You're not a child anymore. It's time you started acting like the adult you claim to be. This company, this life we've built for you - it's all we've ever wanted for you. And you're throwing it away for some lowlife hockey player who barely even made it to the big leagues."

Y/N's cheeks burned with anger and humiliation. She hated the way her parents made her feel, as if her thoughts and feelings were invalid, as if she were nothing more than a pawn in their grand scheme.

Dedra reached across the table, her perfectly manicured hand grasping Y/N's wrist. "Sweetheart," she said, her tone softening, "we love you. We just don't want to see you get hurt. Men like Quinn... they're not in it for the long haul. They'll use you, break your heart, and move on to the next pretty face. You deserve so much more than that."

Y/N felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to let her parents see her weakness. She knew they were wrong about Quinn, but their words still cut deep, playing on her insecurities and fears.

Derek stood up, his tall frame looming over her. "This discussion is over, Y/N. You'll end things with this Quinn character, and you'll focus on your work. Your future. Do I make myself clear?"

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotion. She wanted to scream, to tell her parents that they had no right to control her life, but she knew it would be futile. With a curt nod, she pushed back from the table and stood up, her legs shaking beneath her.

"I have work to do," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "If you'll excuse me."

Without waiting for a response, Y/N turned on her heel and strode out of the conference room, her heart hammering in her chest.

…

The clock on the wall seemed to move at an agonizingly slow pace, each tick echoing through the cramped office space. Y/N leaned back in her chair, the leather creaking beneath her weight as she stared blankly at the computer screen.

The fluorescent lights above cast a harsh glow on her features, highlighting the dark circles under her eyes and the tension in her jaw.

Around her, the office hummed with activity, the sound of ringing phones and the gentle whir of computers filling the air. Y/N felt suffocated by the monotony of it all, the endless hours spent hunched over her desk, pouring over spreadsheets and reports.

As the clock finally struck three, Y/N let out a sigh of relief, the thought of going home filling her with a sense of euphoria. She could almost feel the soft embrace of her couch, the warmth of a glass of wine in her hand as she left the stresses of the day behind.

Just as she was about to log off her computer, a sharp knock at the door startled her from her thoughts. Alexandra, the secretary, peeked her head in, her perfectly styled hair and immaculate makeup a stark contrast to Y/N's tired appearance.

"I sent some of the paperwork to your email," Alexandra said, her voice saccharine sweet. "If you could just finish those up before you leave, that'd help a lot."

Y/N felt a surge of anger course through her veins, her patience wearing thin. She fixed Alexandra with a cold stare, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's three. I get to go home now, you know, like a normal person."

Alexandra's eyes narrowed, her lips pursing in disapproval. Y/N knew that the secretary had always treated her like nothing more than a privileged nepo baby, completely disregarding the fact that Y/N had never used her family's influence to step on any toes or make people do her bidding.

Y/N stood up from her chair, grabbing her purse and jacket from the back of her seat. She could feel Alexandra's eyes boring into her back as she made her way towards the door, but she refused to give the woman the satisfaction of seeing her frustration.

"I'll take care of it in the morning," Y/N said, her hand on the doorknob. "Have a good night, Alexandra."

Without waiting for a response, Y/N stepped out of her office, the sound of her heels clicking against the tiled floor as she made her way towards the elevators.

She could feel the weight of the day lifting from her shoulders with each step, the promise of freedom and the warmth of her bath calling to her like a siren song.

As the elevator doors closed behind her, Y/N let out a deep breath, her eyes fluttering closed as she leaned back against the cool metal wall. She knew that the road ahead would be filled with obstacles, but for now, all she wanted was to lose herself in the comfort of Quinn's arms and forget about the expectations and pressures that threatened to suffocate her.

…

The faucet let out a high-pitched squeak as Y/N twisted the gleaming chrome knob, the sound echoing off the tiled walls of the dimly lit bathroom. The flow of water slowed to a trickle before stopping completely, leaving behind a tub filled with steaming, inviting water.

Tendrils of steam rose from the water, carrying with them the intoxicating aroma.

With a fluid motion, Y/N untied the sash of her plush, white bathrobe, the soft fabric slipping off her shoulders and pooling at her feet. The cool air kissed her bare skin, sending a slight shiver down her spine as she stepped closer to the tub.

Tentatively, she dipped a toe into the water, testing the temperature. The heat was intense, but not unbearable, and Y/N slowly lowered herself into the bath, letting out a contented sigh as the warm water enveloped her body.

The water lapped at her shoulders, the heat penetrating her tired muscles and easing away the knots and tension that had accumulated throughout the day.

Y/N sank deeper into the rose petal-filled bathwater, the sweet, floral aroma wafting through the steamy air. The soft, delicate petals brushed against her skin, their velvety touch a gentle caress. She inhaled deeply, the scent of roses mingling with the subtle vanilla notes of her favorite candle, creating a soothing, intimate atmosphere.

As she leaned back, her hair cascaded over the edge of the tub, the ends dipping into the water and creating gentle ripples on the surface. Her eyes fluttered closed, lashes casting shadows on her flushed cheeks, a result of the bath's intense heat.

The tranquil moment was interrupted by the buzzing of her phone, its vibration echoing through the bathroom. Y/N's eyes snapped open, a curious expression on her face as she reached for the device.

Quinn's name flashed across the screen, his photo – a candid shot of him grinning widely, his dark hair tousled by the wind – accompanying the incoming call.

A smile tugged at the corners of Y/N's lips as she lifted herself from the bath, water droplets cascading down her smooth, sun-kissed skin. She grabbed the phone, tapping the screen to answer the call and putting it on speaker.

"Hi, hottie," Y/N greeted, her voice playful and warm.

Quinn's nerdy, endearing voice filled the bathroom, a chuckle evident in his tone. "Hey there, beautiful. How's my favorite girl doing tonight?"

Y/N reached for her glass of wine, the deep, rich red liquid swirling in the crystal glass. She took a sip, savoring the bold, fruity flavors on her tongue before responding. "Oh, you know, just unwinding after a long day at the office. How about you, handsome?"

"Counting down the minutes until I get to see you tomorrow," Quinn replied, a hint of mischief in his voice. "I can't stop thinking about how stunning you'll look in that red dress."

Y/N laughed softly, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. She set the wine glass down, running her fingers through her damp hair, pushing it away from her face. "Mmm, you sure know how to make a girl feel special," she purred, her tone flirtatious.

"That's because you are special, Y/N," Quinn said, his voice softening. "I can't wait to have you all to myself tomorrow. No work, no distractions, just you and me."

Y/N's heart fluttered at his words, a giddy feeling spreading through her chest. She bit her lower lip, a coy smile playing on her features. "I like the sound of that," she murmured, her voice low and sultry. "You better be prepared to sweep me off my feet, mister."

Quinn's laughter filled the bathroom, warm and infectious. "Oh, I have a few tricks up my sleeve, don't you worry."

As they continued their playful banter, Y/N sank back into the bath, the warm water enveloping her once more. She closed her eyes, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she listened to Quinn's voice, the sound soothing her soul and filling her with anticipation for the day to come.

…

As the morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the bedroom, Y/N's phone buzzed incessantly on the nightstand. The vibrations seemed to echo through the tranquil space, a jarring contrast to the peaceful atmosphere.

Beyond the window, the vibrant green of the trees and grass was visible, a testament to the beauty of the early morning.

The bedroom was a serene oasis, with its pristine white decor creating a sense of calm and comfort. The plush, white comforter enveloped Y/N, its softness lulling her into a state of drowsy contentment.

Y/N stirred, mumbling incoherently as she slowly turned over, her eyelids fluttering open. She squinted, her eyes adjusting to the bright sunlight that flooded the room. As she reached for her phone, the alarm blared to life, the glowing digits on the nightstand displaying a crisp 7:00 AM.

With a groan, Y/N sat up, her hand instinctively reaching for her phone. As she unlocked the device, she was greeted by a string of texts from her mother, Dedra. The messages, even in their digital form, seemed to drip with condescension.

"Y/N, don't forget about the family brunch today. Your father and I expect you to be there, and please, try to look presentable. We have important guests attending, and we can't have you embarrassing us like last time. And do try to be on time, darling. Punctuality is a virtue, after all."

Rolling her eyes, Y/N tossed her phone aside and begrudgingly dragged herself out of bed. She went about her morning routine, selecting a chic and appropriate outfit for the brunch and work before making her way to the kitchen.

As she entered the heart of her home, Y/N couldn't help but smile. The space was everything she had ever dreamed of – a perfect blend of modern elegance and cozy charm. She moved towards the kitchen island, her bare feet padding softly against the cool, hardwood floors.

While her coffee brewed, filling the air with its rich, invigorating aroma, Y/N leaned back against the island, her eyes drifting to the television mounted on the wall. The familiar characters of The 100, flashed across the screen.

She sipped her coffee, savoring the warmth and comfort it provided, as she lost herself in the post-apocalyptic world unfolding before her.

Y/N glanced at her watch, the sleek hands pointing to 8:30, a frustrated huff escaped her lips. She quickly shut off the television and grabbed her essentials, making her way out of the apartment and towards her car.

The drive to the office was usually a time for Y/N to unwind and mentally prepare for the day ahead, with her favorite podcast playing through the speakers.

However, today's episode left her feeling unsettled. The young creator, barely 18 years old, was excitedly announcing her pregnancy. The way she spoke about it, as if it were some sort of miraculous blessing, made Y/N's stomach churn. With a quick tap, she muted the podcast, silence filling the car as she navigated the familiar streets.

As she pulled into the parking lot of the imposing office building, Y/N's eyes immediately landed on Alexandra, who was just a few spots down from her. A wave of dread washed over her, and she quickly locked her car, determined to beat her colleague to the elevator.

Y/N's heels clicked against the pavement as she hurried towards the entrance, her breath coming in short, anxious bursts. She could hear Alexandra's footsteps echoing behind her.

Just as Y/N stepped into the elevator, her manicured finger jabbing the button for the 4th floor, she caught a glimpse of Alexandra rushing towards her. With a sly grin, Y/N pressed the close button, feigning interest in her perfectly polished nails as the doors began to slide shut.

Alexandra stumbled, her hand reaching out in a desperate attempt to stop the elevator, but it was too late. As the doors closed, Y/N looked up, meeting her colleague's gaze with a sad, insincere smile. The look of frustration and annoyance on Alexandra's face was a small victory for Y/N, a momentary triumph in the never-ending battle of office politics.

The elevator began its ascent, Y/N leaned back against the cool metal wall, her eyes closing for a brief moment. She inhaled deeply, trying to calm her racing heart and push away the lingering unease from the podcast. The day had barely begun, and already she felt drained.

It dinged, signaling her arrival on the 4th floor, Y/N straightened her shoulders and put on a brave face. She stepped out into the hallway.

…

The constant cacophony of rings and beeps filled Y/N's ears for the next three hours, the incessant noise drilling into her skull. The cramped office space felt more like a chicken coop than a professional workspace, and Y/N could feel her sanity slowly slipping away with each passing minute.

Just as she thought she couldn't take it anymore, Dedra peeked her head into the office, her critical gaze sweeping over the room before she entered. With a sense of entitlement, she perched herself on the edge of Y/N's desk, her perfectly manicured fingers toying with a strand of Y/N's hair.

"You know, you look stressed, Y/N," Dedra remarked, her tone laced with false concern. Her eyes then traveled down to Y/N's attire, and her face contorted into a look of disgust. "Is that what you're wearing to brunch?" she asked, her voice dripping with disapproval. "I guess it will do."

Before Y/N could respond, Dedra abruptly stood up and headed towards the door, gesturing for her daughter to follow. Y/N huffed in frustration, the weight of her mother's judgment pressing down on her. She quickly logged off her computer and gathered her belongings, trailing behind Dedra as they made their way through the office.

As they walked, Y/N could feel the eyes of her coworkers following them, their gazes a mix of curiosity and envy. She held her head high, refusing to let their attention faze her. Dedra, on the other hand, seemed to revel in the attention, her stride confident and purposeful as she led the way.

When they reached the front of the building, a sleek black limo slowly approached, its polished exterior gleaming in the sunlight. Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes at the ostentatious display.

"Why do we need a limo for brunch?" she asked, exasperation evident in her voice. "Could you guys be any more extra?"

Dedra shot her a sharp look, her lips pursed in disapproval. "Appearances matter, Y/N," she said, her tone clipped. "We have a reputation to uphold, and arriving in style is part of that."

Y/N bit back a retort, knowing that arguing with her mother was a futile endeavor. As the limo pulled up to the curb, the driver promptly exited the vehicle, opening the door for them with a practiced bow.

Dedra climbed in first, her movements graceful and refined. Y/N followed suit, sinking into the plush leather seats with a sigh.

The vehicle pulled away from the curb, and Y/N watched as the office building grew smaller in the distance. She knew that the brunch would be just another performance, a carefully orchestrated display of wealth and status that she was expected to participate in.

…

message me to be added to the tag list. hope you enjoyed it. please lmk how you liked it.

(also I just made this idea today and I can't believe I already wrote chapter 1)

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thekingofcrochet · 11 months

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With news of companies like Target pulling their pride stock due to “backlash”, please remember that buying from a queer maker means that your money goes to queer artists and not corporations* who fold like lawnchairs at the drop of a hat.

Queer makers, if you see this post feel free to advertise your business below. I’ll start-

My name is Icarus and I’m a queer, black trans person who does fiber art and digital design. I have an etsy and a redbubble for my digital work and am working on creating stock of crochet sellables!

#support queer creators #support queer artists #support queer business

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sexlapis · 4 months

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just thinking abt corporate!reader & her goth!wife mikasa :3

female!reader, short fic, flirty coworkers, fluff, crack, wife!mikasa

wc: idk just read it damn

you were a diligent, serious worker but you’d never be caught working overtime in a place like that. you would never work longer than you had to, you don’t give a fuck about your job, or any company that much. the job wasn’t exactly exciting or difficult, but the salary was absolutely ridiculous for such simple tasks and you just can’t say goodbye to this lifestyle, really. it is easy, stable and comfortable and you really cannot ask for anything else.

you always kept to yourself and minded your own business but, unfortunately for you, the men you worked with were not familiar with such a concept.

when you started you job, your male coworkers found no problem or shame in flirting with you. and now, with the new, simple yet expensive golden wedding band on your finger…they still had no problem flirting with you.

you sit at your desk typing away, when all of a sudden, your coworker, sam, appeared out of nowhere like a bunny in a top hat.

“hey!” he spoke, far too loudly for the environment you were in.

“…hi.”

“how are you?” sam leans on your desk, shifting it in a way which will irk you for the rest of this painful interaction.

you look up at him, mouth streamline and eyes blank. “i’m fine, thank you,” you make a point of not asking how he is before raising your eyebrows and looking at your desk computer, “got work to do.”

“yeah,” he chuckles, biting his lip, “so listen…”

oh no.

“so i’ve been thinking…”

please, stop.

“i think we get along really well and i’m just wondering…”

god, help me.

“…if maybe we could go out sometime,” he finishes, smirking all of his ivory, hyper-perfect, white teeth at you. he stares at you, awaiting your answer.

you sigh. he sees so confident. it was sad.

you fiddle with your watch and begin your awkward rejection, “look i-”

a voice calling out your name is heard as you spin around in your squeaky desk chair and a few feet away, stands your wife, mikasa.

what is she doing here?

next to her is the receptionist, you smiles at you and nods to mikasa before walking away.

mikasa is dressed to the nines, as she always is.

she is decked out in an all-black outfit - her toned arms, decorated with lace sleeves, snug at the top and loosening out as the fabric goes on. a corset adorns her waist, peppered with lace accents and it emphasises the pale expanse of her upper breasts that are on display for everyone to see. her lower half is draped in a long, slightly billowed out skirt and platform boots cover her feet, making her almost tower over everyone.

mikasa walks over to you, unbothered by all the eyes on her. in her hand is a small container, one that you assume carries your lunch. she leans down and kisses you cheek, surely staining your skin with scarlet. you feel heat on your face. you’re pretty sure nobody is working at this point.

“hi ♡.” mikasa greets, a soft smile on her lips.

“hi-mikasa, what are-” you stand up swiftly, looking around your small work area, noticing how your colleagues are simply pretending to work, “what are you doing here? i said i’d meet you outside.”

“you were taking a while. the receptionist noticed and asked who i was waiting for. she let me come up here.”

“yeah, but-”

“but what?”

you huff and glance behind you.

sam, your flirty coworker who cannot take a hint, stands there like a buffoon, mouth agape and just watching you and mikasa interact. mikasa says a small “hello” to him and he responds with a dumb wave.

you roll your eyes. then you notice the food container in mikasa’s hands. she has a new set of nails too. “is that my lunch?”

“yes, that’s why i came here. you forgot it.”

you take it out of her hands, graceful. “thank you, baby…new nails too, i see?”

mikasa blushes, eyes knocking to the side. “mhm. i took your card for that.”

“mikasa!” you frown halfheartedly, “i was looking for that.”

“sorry. but you have seven other cards, so i think you will be okay.”

you hear a snort on your right, and a sharp glare from you shut them up.

mikasa beams at you.

you huff, beginning to walk “lets go to that café across the street.”

“okay!”

mikasa slips her hand into yours. on that very hand, a ring with an onyx diamond beautifies her finger. the ring that you placed there.

you coworker starts to call out, “aren’t you gonna introduce-”

“no!”

“you should be nicer to your coworkers.”

“why on earth would i do that?” you groan, disgusted by the suggestion.

the food mikasa made is delicious, and you shove your face with it in bad table manners. you were starving. mikasa doesn’t mind.

it was a sunny thursday afternoon and the streets were quiet, along with the café itself. mikasa nibbles on a small pastry and sips her tea.

“because, they’re your coworkers. and you need to keep your job.”

“ha! they need to keep me. i’m the best worker in that damn place.”

mikasa hums, taking a hold of your hands, causing you to drop you cutlery on the table ungracefully, “but then, who’d be able to pay for my nails?”

“…yeah, you’re right,” you smooth your thumb over her smooth knuckles, kissing the ring on her finger, “who would, huh?”

you walk back into your workplace, skip in your step. you whistle a tune all the way to your desk, stopping in your tracks when you realise everyone is silent and looking at you.

“…what?!”

the continuous chatter starts up again and everyone goes back to their tasks, not looking to bother or piss you off today

later on, when you walk through the door to your house and look in the mirror right beside it, you see a multitude of faded, red lip-shaped lipstick stained kissed all over your face.

a/n: i want her to be my wife so bad………

#mikasa x reader #mikasa x you #mikasa x y/n #mikasa fluff #mikasa ackerman x reader #mikasa ackerman x you #mikasa ackerman x y/n #mikasa ackerman fluff

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dessertgeek · 6 months

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The Twitter Mari Lwyd saga (2019 - part two)

Since people seem to be happy that I'm copying over the Mari Lwyd sagas, have another transcription! This is for the second round of 2019, between @seananmcguire and @kbspangler. Part one is here, the source to this round starts here.

(Seriously, these aren't mine, they're the property of @seananmcguire, @tkingfisher, + @kbspangler, I'm just transcribing so extra records exist. Support their works!)

That being said, if anyone can find the 2020 Twitter thread, can you send me a link so I can transcribe it (or transcribe it and link me)? It has been found! Thanks to @dor-min for finding the thread, it's going to take me a bit to transcribe.

CWs for food, alcohol, and caps.

K.B.: SO YOU SAY YOU WANT A BATTLE? YOU'RE BRINGING NAUGHT BUT PRATTLE TO THIS FESTIVE DAY WE DESIGNATE WITH LIGHTS AND FOOD TO CELEBRATE THE SOLSTICE, DEAR, WITH ME AND MINE AND YOU AND YOURS AND HIS AND HERS AND THEIRS AND OURS A BREAKING DAY A FRESH NEW YEAR WE CALL SPRING UP AGAIN

Seanan: WE'RE PAST THE LONGEST NIGHT AND I'M ITCHING FOR A FIGHT IF YOU'RE COLD, WE'RE COLD, SO LET US IN. WE HEARD YOUR LARDER'S STOCKED, SO GET READY TO GET ROCKED THIS TALE'S OFTEN TOLD WE ALWAYS WIN.

K.B.: YOU SAY YOU'LL FIGHT THIS GARDNER'S MIGHT?! THE GROUND IS COLD MY PLANTS ASLEEP I'VE GOT ENOUGH STRESS TO PUNCH A SHEEP I AM WIGGING TO GO DIGGING AND HERE YOU COME TO STEAL MY PLUMS?

Seanan: I DON'T WANT YOUR PLUMS THE MARI LWYD COMES TO SAMPLE YOUR CHEESE AND YOUR BOOZE. YOUR GARDEN IS SLEEPING SO WHY ARE YOU KEEPING A SENTRY POST YOU DIDN'T CHOOSE? COME WASSAIL WITH US. THERE'S NO NEED TO FUSS. THERE'S NO SHAME IN CHOOSING TO LOSE.

K.B.: I'M NOT YET CONVINCED A DEAD HORSE HAS ENVINCED THE SPIRIT OF THIS WINTER'S PAST CAN YOU SWEETEN THE DEAL WITH A CAROLING PEAL? THEN MY GARDEN WILL HAVE TO HOLD FAST

Seanan: WE ARE NOT RETREATIN' THIS HORSE WON'T BE BEATEN, IT A BATTLE OF HOOVES VERSUS HANDS. THE JINGLE OF BELLS IS A SOUND THAT FORETELLS OUR CONQUEST OF ALL OF THESE LANDS.

K.B.: THEN I GOTTA SAY NO SORRY, CAN'T GO YOU SEEM LIKE A NICE HORSE AND ALL BUT MY HOUSE IS QUITE HAUNTED AND I AM UNDAUNTED BY YET ONE MORE SPECTRAL ODDBALL

Seanan: IT'S NOT REALLY RESPECTFUL TO SAY THAT I'M SPECTRAL. I'M CORPOREAL AS A GIRL COMES. YOU CAN PURCHASE MORE CHEESE SO JUST GIVE ME THESE. DON'T FORCE ME TO BREAK OUT THE DRUMS.

K.B.: (My parents are about to arrive so)

FINE, I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE BIRD, DOG, OR MARE ON THIS DAY WE'RE SUPPOSED TO EMPLOY THE LOVE OF THE SEASON SO HERE, HAVE SOME CHEESE IN PRECUT SIXTY-FOUR SLICES OF JOY

Seanan: DESPITE THIS GRAVE LOSS, YOU'RE A SHEPHERD TO MOSS, AND I AM A CHILD OF THE GRAVE. SO I'LL GO NOW IN PEACE, AND I WON'T BREAK YOUR LEASE, THOUGH YOU DIDN'T ASK ME TO BEHAVE.

K.B.:

[Alt ID: A small Black child in a crowd. The child takes off his black baseball cap as if to say "I tip my hat to you dear sir," which has RE2PECT embroidered on it in white thread.]

#Mari Lwyd #Seanan McGuire #K.B. Spangler #Twitter history and lore #Getting the meter right this round was neat #You both did such a great job weaving in your styles #I am so not transcribing another tomorrow though #These take a bit to confirm meter and that nothing is missing #But it is nice to have a non-Twitter copy in the world now #food #food cw #alcohol #Mari Lwyd Project

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thoughtsandbones · 1 year

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It's been a long time

FIRST TIME WRITING A FANFIC - Since i was on LiveJournal (years ago)

Simon 'Ghost' RIley x F!MedicDoc

WARNINGS: Mention of death, blood, fluff and angst?

Song inspo: Think - Kaleida (Love John Wick <3 and Atomic Blonde <3)

I grew up with the OG MW2 game, so there are some references to the old one, so kind of a mix of both the OG and the new timeline...

(FYI: bold sentences... are like this... are supposed to describe redacted data/info to the plot... ;] .. )

MASTERLIST

Part 1

Back again here. That's what you thought when you actually landed at the base. You're trying to calculate how long it has actually been. The years. The months. The days. The hours. The minutes.

Why? Because time is represented by numbers. And a weird number observer you were. Numbers are always assigned to occasions, incidents, blood pressure, mL of drugs, minutes to save a life, seconds wasted.

You furrow your eyebrows. You don't care about the wrinkles forming. Not anymore. You part your lips, and suck in some air.

The tightness of the black boots yet to be broken in like you were once.. were just painful and added pain of sore feet and legs from getting back into training was just a cherry on the icing.

The pain is just temporary... You think to yourself whilst you close your eyes and inhale for 4 through the nose, hold, and slowly breathe out for four, controlled, of course... and gradually open your eyes.

You should be grateful for this chance.

You take in scene before you. Base. Outside Berkshire... mid August...

The sky above is pale shade of blue with hints of orange as the sun sets in the west. It is surprisingly warm and nice today. Minimal clouds. As you look down you see the trucks on the grey charcoal tarmac, smooth and a few cracks here and there.. Buildings behind, patches of green..? Wow.

You couldn't also ignore the soon to be glaring floods lights surrounding the perimeter of the base. Without these, the views of sky where even more phenomenal. The stars. The realisation that there is a sort of weird chaos also going on out there too. The storm of Jupiter must be a sight to see you wonder..

"Corporal Kaur!" You hear a man shout from the left of you.

You break your gaze and see and old man from where that shout came from. Face still stern. Eyebrows still furrowed.

Captain Price.

You recognise that moustache and boonie hat from a mile away.Next to him where to other men, one bulky and tall, donning a half a skull over his face and wearing all black and the other shorter, still tall. but what was most noticeable was the hawk. Both of them staring at you.

You briefly stare back. Your new COs you assume.

You start to walk over to them, carrying your pack, and duffle over your right shoulder.

Back again. Back here facing death again. That's what you think. Over and over as you stride until you reach your old Captain.

You place your pack and duffle on the ground.

"Captain Price" you say, giving in a salute, heels slamming together. Your back straightening automatically when your right arm swung to the tip of your beret. Palms facing out. Always.

Muscle memory is a wonderful thing.

"At ease Corporal" Price says, giving a slight chuckle. His body turns to the two men beside him.

"This is Lieutenant Ghost" Price said as he gestures towards the masked man.

You put out your right hand for a hand shake. The lieutenant just stares at you, eyes cold and calculating watching you.

You raise your head curtly and trying to suppress the smirk from appearing. I'm watching you too you think to yourself.

"I'm your Sergeant; Soap MacTavish" the hawked man said, in a strong Scottish accent. He brings up his hand for a handshake, grinning hard.

You shake his hand. Soap grinned a bit harder.

"Soap and Ghost." You say turning your head to Price after shaking Soap's hand, you see him in the corner of your eye elbow Ghost and gesture towards you with his hand, you couldn't catch what he was saying as Price started giving you directions and something else he

"The team know you're here as their new medic. The infirmary, somewhat set, thought it was best left to the expert to order whatever you need. You remember where it is?" Price said. "I have to go to the hanger, catch up later" He saids, patting you on the shoulder.

"Thank you sir" You reply.

Yes. The team's medic. Not actually part of the team. Not anymore...

Not able to linger on the past for a second longer, you see Soap move towards your pack and duffle.

You grab your pack just before he does.

"I've got it, don't worry" You say, and this time you remember to smile, with teeth, a soft smile that a younger you adorned each day.

Soap laughs gently, and looks at your face, that smile broke your stern face from before, a kindness washed over your face Soap thought.

After picking up your pack and duffle, swinging them both over and onto your back. You stare back at the two men, and smile again.

"Well, I am going.. to get settled" You say to them "Nice meeting both of you" you said as you turn.

"We'll walk ya to the infirmary" The lieutenant said gruffly. You detect an accent, maybe northern?

"Yeah, that way we can get to know you on the way" Soap chimes in, grinning again

Fuck sake, not this already you think to yourself.

You turn to them, and force a smile, this time no teeth, nostrils flare, you hope they don't notice the force of it. Ghost does. Ghost raises his head, eyes widening slightly.

You did not like that Ghost thinks to himself. He crosses his arms across his chest, slightly puffing it out.

He looks at you whilst you relax your face as you looked at him do his little chest puff, your eyes widen, slight glare to the ground and then back to the familiar stern look, he lets out a light huff. Amused at the expressions coming and going on your face. He could've sworn there was hint of pink spreading across that brown skin.

"Price said you've worked here before" Soap continues, trying to ease the tension that was stirring between the three of you as the three of you walk across the tarmac, amidst the other soldiers and trucks driving past.

You stare again at Soap, trying to ease the furrowed brows, but they seem glued to their position. The back of your mind still processing your surroundings.

"Years ago. In my early twenties" You reply to Soap

"Wait, so how old are you now?" Soap asks

You look at him and smile slightly. People get so bewildered when they find out that you're a lot older than you look. Given that your face has hardly a wrinkle, no grey hairs, smooth and "fair" skin (for an Indian) that your mother loves to praise you about after years of her nagging of using SPF 50 daily, especially during winter.

"32" You reply

"Steamin' Jesus" Soap exclaims "You don't look a day over 25" he added

"Yeah, it's annoying getting ID'd when getting a drink though" You say back. You realise the two men are beside you, Soap on your left, and Ghost on your right. Glaring at you still, watching your movements. You're stuck in the middle. A rock and a hard place.

You feel the tension creep to your shoulders. You roll your right shoulder to ease the tension. It doesn't help. Not with the added weight your pack and duffle. You then take duffle off your back, and see Soap on your left raise him arm, again gesturing for him to help carry your stuff.

You raise your left hand and tell him again its okay. You've carried heavier. You've carried limp bodies for longer. You hold the duffle on your right hand, Ghost moves slightly further to make room. You take note and swing duffle, smooth and controlled.

The three of you head straight to building 2. You notice the building as been redone slightly since you were here last, a fresh slick of paint and new doors.

Soap runs up to the doors, and opens them for you, and gestures you through with his right hand. You nod and give a weak thanks.

"We have to keep you sweet" he says "Right L.t?" Soap says, nudging Ghost.

Ghost grunts disapprovingly.

"Why?" You turn to him, letting out a deep sigh. Laying the duffle and pack down on the ground. Suddenly the jet lag, the sore feet and legs hit you harder and you feel like you could just melt into the floor. But you couldn't do that.

"Well, you are our new medic, and you'll be patching us up after missions, so need to keep you sweet" Soap says in a chirpy manner.

"That's her job Johnny" Ghost said, voice rough

You smirk, reaching in your pack for a folder containing your documents and forms.

"Actually..." You start but then remember that even Price said your job role to your face. Medic.

"Actually?" Soap questions

"Nothing" You said, opening the plastic folder and retrieving your forms, you look up and see Soap with a puzzling look on his face and Ghost just coldly still staring.

The anxiety is kicking in. You feel it creep across your chest and swarming it's way to your arms and legs.

You pull out the forms needed and held them in your hand, in between Soap and Ghost, unsure who would take them

"Filled these out as requested by Captain Price" You say

Ghost reaches and grabs the papers, eyes weaving left to right from top to bottom across the forms. You see Soap try and peak and he notices a lot of thick blacked out information. His brows furrow and a curious sheen glosses over his eyes as he looks back at you.

"Most of this is redacted" Ghost says those cold eyes still on the paper. "Like your file" His eyes flicker to yours, hoping to catch you out.

But you stare back. Redacted like your face you think to yourself.

"Captain Price surely would've let you know why" You say curtly

The two men looked at each other. Ghost turned his head towards you, Soap still eyeing Ghost, and then peaking at the paper a bit closer.

No forename, no information of her previous time here... Was Ghost right? Soap thought

"Was hopin' to get somethin' outa' you" Ghost said brightly

He folded the forms into four and put them in his back pocket. He then bent down slightly and picked up your pack and duffle before you could. His eyes wondered up and down your body and your stare turned into a glare when you realised what he was doing.

You felt like he could see through the clothes that covered you. You tug the sleeve of your jacket, rolling your shoulders forward, trying to become smaller. And this man made you smaller. Not by his sheer size, but the way he just looked at you up and down.

"Need a hand Lt? Soap says, breaking the silence again. Hoping to at least try and carry the new medic's stuff.

"Nah, I got this Johnny" Ghost sighs, readjusting the grip on your pack and duffle and swinging them over his shoulder. "Let's show her the infirmary" He said walking off, leaving behind a bewildered Soap and yourself.

You follow the two men, wanting this to be over so you can lie down and sleep. And take the damn boots off. Your feet becoming numb with every step as you follow your commanding officers..

As the three of you reach the door of the infirmary, Ghost drops your pack and duffle from his shoulder to his side, still not letting go and places his left hand in his pocket and takes out a key and unlocks the door.

He looks down at you and you look up at him, you smile weakly, furrowed brows still and try and peak into the infirmary.

Ghost doesn't break his gaze from you, he moves from the doorway and gestures you to go in.

You go in first, the room a warm golden yellow, the light is turned off. The big windows let the last of the sun's rays into the room.

Golden hour.

It's so beautiful you think to yourself and as you move through the room to the window staring at the sunset.

"Best view on this side o' the buildin'" Ghost says, approaching you as you watch the sunset, he gently places your pack and duffle next you.

"It really is something" You say, smiling brightly at the sunset

Ghost sees the shift in your expression in the window, and looks down beside you, your eyes, they appear softer and warm. Not like the ones he experienced earlier.

"Johnny and I will get your room key" Ghost says turning to Soap who was about to take a photo of the sunset with his phone. "C'mon sergeant" as he walks past him and leans against the doorway.

You turn to look at them, Soap desperately trying to take a photo despite the sighing coming from Ghost as he watches him take endless photos of the "sunset". He saw Soap sneak a picture of you.

"Thank you Lieutenant Ghost and Sergeant Soap" You say, struggling to comprehend these codenames. Ghost you kind of get, given the mask. But Soap? There has to be some kind of gay connotation you think as you remind yourself of the saying 'Don't drop the soap'

The two of them turn to you, Soap smiles and Ghost just staring.

Soap eventually makes his way out past Ghost, and walks out.

"Meet you at the Hole Lt, need to take a piss" Soap whispers as he passes him.

You and Ghost lock eyes as he holds the doorknob and begins to just it close, you make your way over, ensuring that he will actually leave and not linger (like a ghost).

"Thanks again for carrying my stuff" You say, trying the fill the silence and encourage this man to leave.

Ghost's grip tightens on the doorknob, and brings the door closer.

"You are most welcome" He says

You smile again as you edge closer to the door. Leave dammnit

"Ruhari"

The smile on your face disappears, the mouth drops open slightly in an O. Eyes widen in shock.

You see Ghost's eyes wrinkle, a sign he's possibly smiling under that skull mask.

Got ya He thought as the took in the shocked face and closed the door leaving you bewildered on the other side.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #backagain #modern warfare smut #ghost x reader #simon riley #modern warfare fanfiction #simon ghost riley x medic #simon ghost riley x doctor

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edosianorchids901 · 11 days

Text

Face Facts

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "open your eyes"

Cw: blood, head injury

“Crowley!” Aziraphale screamed as Crowley flung through the air. He reached out, but he was too far away.

Crowley slammed into the hard trail with a sickening thud. His horse bucked a few more times, then raced off into the desert without him.

“Oh, good Lord.” Immediately, Aziraphale slid off his horse and raced down the trail. Crowley was sprawled across the edge, halfway in a bush. “Crowley? Oh, Crowley, are you all right?”

As carefully as possible, Aziraphale lifted Crowley out of the bush and laid him back on the packed dirt. Blood ran down one side of Crowley’s head, staining his red hair a darker shade.

“Dearest, can you hear me?” Aziraphale pushed the crumpled remains of Crowley’s black cowboy hat aside and patted his cheek. “Are you all right? Crowley?”

Crowley didn’t respond. He simply laid there, eyes closed. Was he even breathing?

“You really must answer me, please.” Hands quaking, Aziraphale smoothed back the bloody hair. There was a deep gash in Crowley’s brow, bleeding heavily enough to puddle on the ground beside him. “Oh, your poor head. That must be so painful. Is that why your eyes are closed, because of pain?”

There was still no answer. Worried, Aziraphale took his hand and patted that. That didn’t yield a response either. Crowley’s chest moved in short, shallow breaths at least, but that was all.

“Crowley, you’re scaring me.” Aziraphale’s voice shook, and he couldn’t stop it from doing so. “Oh, is it too bright for you? Of course it is, your sunglasses have been knocked off. I-I’ll find them for you, and then everything will be okay.”

In the meantime, he drew his wings out and spread them above Crowley, sheltering him from the harsh sunlight. Must simply look around and find his sunglasses, that was it.

Keeping one wing over Crowley, Aziraphale moved around a bit until he found the crunched metal under the bush. He dusted Crowley’s sunglasses off and repaired them with a miracle.

“Here you are, my dear.” Aziraphale crawled back to him and held the sunglasses out. “I’ve found your sunglasses, so you can open your eyes now.”

Crowley didn’t open his eyes.

“Crowley? Crowley, did you hear me?” Aziraphale patted his cheek again. “Come on, now. Open your eyes. Crowley. Crowley, open your eyes!”

Crowley still didn’t open his eyes. Aziraphale stared at him, desperately patting his cheek. A whimper slipped out, and then a cry.

“Please wake up. Crowley, wake up!” Desperate, Aziraphale shook him, and then froze. No, that wouldn’t work. Because clearly, something was very wrong. And no matter how much Aziraphale wanted to deny that fact, he must face up to it instead.

Crowley had taken a severe blow to the head during that fall. Blows to the head could be very serious. Most likely, that was the cause of his unconsciousness.

Heart racing, Aziraphale bent over Crowley. He cupped the bloody cheek, drew a deep breath, and gazed deeper into the physical plane. Yes, this was the cause of Crowley’s unconsciousness. He’d been knocked out in the fall, and now his brain was swelling.

“It’s going to be okay,” Aziraphale said as confidently as he could manage. Doubt whispered through his mind, but he simply didn’t have time for that. He had to patch Crowley up, now. “I’m going to heal you. Here we go, no brain swelling, no contusions, no cuts…”

He didn’t dare try to heal everything wrong with Crowley just now. Even a mere glance into the structures of his corporation revealed many bruises and cuts. None of the other damage could discorporate him, though, and it would be best dealt with later.

The miracle left him shaky and dizzy. He rested one hand on Crowley’s chest, rubbing gently. “Crowley. I’ve healed you all up, now. Open your eyes. Please, please open your eyes.”

Slowly, Crowley’s eyes opened. He squinted up, then groaned and closed them again. “Ow. What happened?”

Breathless with relief, Aziraphale pressed a light kiss to Crowley’s brow. “I’m afraid you had rather bad luck with your horse, dear boy. It got frightened by a shadow and bucked you off.”

“Typical.” Wincing, Crowley raised a hand to his brow. “Gosh, that really hurts. Did I hit my head?”

“Rather badly, yes. You had…” Aziraphale’s voice cracked, and a shudder rushed through him. Shaky, he stroked Crowley’s hair. “You had some rather nasty swelling in your brain, but I’ve healed it.”

“Still a nasty headache.” Crowley had screwed his eyes shut against the light, his expression taught with pain. “I, er… Ow. S’ really hard to think.”

“Yes, I suspect you still have something similar to a concussion.” Azirapahle was tempted to push on, to take Crowley to the nearest town. He could carry Crowley if he couldn’t find their horses.

But that was a terrible idea. He could carry Crowley, yes, but it would likely incapacitate him. He’d already expended a great deal of energy mending Crowley’s brain, and it was likely far better for Crowley if they rested.

“We’ll camp here.” He put Crowley’s sunglasses on, then carefully lifted Crowley across his lap and cradled him close. “You just rest, hmm?”

“Right. Okay.” His eyes still closed behind the dark lenses, Crowley smiled. “Thanks, angel. Really don’t think I’m up to moving.”

“No, I don’t think so either.” This wouldn’t be the most comfortable campsite, but it was better than pushing either of them too hard. This way, they would both have time to recover, and everything really would be okay.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale

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satancopilotsmytardis · 1 month

Text

I still have brain rot, more FNAF×MHA notes for myself for when I have time to work on this:

Dabi: 8 foot tall scarecrow/jack-o-lantern creature made for the Halloween season. He was supposed to be made to work in like huge corn mazes and has a bunch of lights inside of him, so through his "tattered" exoskeleton the "fire" could be seen coming through. It was decided to color him blue instead of traditional fire colors because they didn't want anyone to see him moving through the corn and get actually scared that something was on fire.

Compress: 6 foot long rabbit animatronic styled after the white hare from Alice In wonderland. He has rabbit looking legs and usually sits back on his haunches which leaves him looking fairly short among the other animatronics. He has no face and instead has a black and white "mask" screen over his face that can project symbols while he talks or emotes, tho notably no facial expressions/emojis/emoticons were programmed in. He was designed to be an entertainer and used to have a stage where he would start each show by popping out of a large top hat.

Spinner: 7 feet tall, he was originally designed to be a dragon animatronic that was supposed to play the villain in one of the stage shows against a knight, but during production, the engineers ran out of time to get his wings working/attached. He was sent out anyway, and the kids called him a lizard and didn't like him, so corporate immediately had him shelved and sent to the basement to be replaced by a wizard animatronic.

Toga: 5 feet tall, she is an animatronic that is styled similarly to a Raggedy Ann doll. She was made to do arts and crafts with kids but started to grow an obsession over the color red and painting herself to look more like her favorite kids/staff members/other animatronics, and the mechanics couldn't get the obsessiveness out of her programming so they deemed her unstable and sent her to the basement.

Twice: 6 feet tall, Twice was originally a Staff Bot, just one of many made to help clean up, direct guests, and help with the day-to-day running of the partyplex, but he got pulled aside at random to be the test bot for a more advanced program that made him Too self-aware. He realized that his freewill was given to him by chance and on accident and his brain may have snapped a little, making him violently attack and dismantle any other staff bot he saw until he was sent to the basement as well.

Shigaraki is "human" 5'9", and is AFO's secret kid. He told his dad he was going off to college, but in actuality, he applied for a janitorial position in the company with a false identity so that he could actually see the empire his dad built up close and personal. He's the new hire and gets the shit job of going down to the basement to deal with the moody bunch and ends up finding them to be kindred spirits

#tanco speaks #im adding this to my list of projects to get back to when i have a minute #you'll notice magne is absent from this list because what makes her “strange” with the biggest fucking air quotes #is that shes trans and i did not want to have to bake in transphobia to my story so shes actually human #and im thinking she works on staff with Shigaraki when he shows up possibly as his supervisor

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ips-northstar-official · 9 months

Note

So... It's the person from the hypothetical thing about the Balor. Here's the whole thing, as it is.

See, I'd just got done with a job along with my Lance: Things were great, I wound up seeing what happens when a Balor literally pulls itself back together from a front-row seat (spoiler alert: It was fucking awesome), and I wound up getting enough cash to do some... Acquisitions.

So! I decided to stop by a black-market scrapyard I knew about: Odd spot ran by an unshackled NHP everyone calls "Mamaw": She heard the term on an out-of-the-way planet, liked it, and decided to use it as an alias. Lotta people dump mechs that are too junked-out, expensive, or time-consuming to repair there: Wear-and-tear from a death-world, too much damage from a job gone horribly wrong, used for something horrible by a rich ass-hat... You name it, Mamaw's got it lying around there for resale and trade.

It's like a Flea Market for mech parts!

... And also maybe ship parts butlet'snottalkabouthat-

ANYWAYS. Stopped by to say "Hi!", ask around about any good deals, and she'd told me that she had pretty much just gotten in a Blackbeard from some salvage crews. I was interested, so she guided me to it.

When I tell you this mech was fucked, I mean it was Capital-F FUCKED. Missing a leg and both arms, any armor was molten slag, wiring was shredded, the works. According to Mamaw, somebody had let their Sekhmet-Class off the hook, ejected, and just ran away. Left 'em behind to fight while they fled for the hills.

The mech got damaged enough that the Sekhmet-Class couldn't move an inch more, and after the battle the Salvage teams moved in to do their job. So, imagine their surprise when the wreck they go to grab starts swearing the air blue at them. Just... Absolutely laying into them. Insults that I could not repeat in polite company, according to Mamaw. They tossed the whole mech off to her, she got the Sekhmet outta there with some conversation and offers of therapy, and everybody turned out pretty alright. She's apparently a very good underground fighter now.

Where was I? Ah, right! The Balor eating the Blackbeard.

So! I'm sitting there haggling the price with Mamaw, and she's making sure to get a good list of what I want off of the BB. Mid-conversation, she trails off while looking over my shoulder after we've finally got the price figured up and paid. I turn around, and my Balor's just... Eating the Blackbeard.

Greywash fully in effect, swarming the wreckage: It was like watching a swarm of locusts pull apart a 3-D puzzle. They'd find the weld-seams and bolts, pull 'em apart like a damn surgeon, pulled the whole chunks into the swarm, and then go back for seconds and thirds.

Weirdest part was, the Balor seemed almost... Gentle, as it worked. Held the parts it was pulling in almost reverently, and when the Blackbeard was down to just the framework and wiring, it picked it up and... hugged it. Held it, like a close friend instead of a meal.

And as it ate, it just got... Bigger. Went from standing with plenty of room in the warehouse we were sifting through to scraping the ceiling. And then...

VRRP. No more Blackbeard.

I turned back around to Mamaw, and she seemed pensive about the whole thing for a moment or two before she started smiling.

"A good eating young-'un, there. You take good care of them, you hear me?"

Well. I couldn't help but agree.

So, yeah: That's how my Balor hypothetically ate a Blackbeard. Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta go see somebody with a hypothetical Goblin to work on some hypothetical VPN-work. TTFN!

Ok so I’ve got corporate distracted for a bit so I can post this because letting this be my sole spoils of war here would be unfair to everyone on the Omninet

Also I’m gonna kick this down the road back to @horus-unofficial to please explain to me what’s going on with that Balor

That kinda sounds like it’s alive

Anyways back to standard corpro-posting love you guys

—the intern

#lancer rpg #lancerrpg

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the-crimson · 7 months

Text

I am still so incredibly confused by the lore adventure we went on today.

Code Flippa lead bbh, Max, and Aypierre back into the maze to the one blocked off hallway to find it transformed with black concrete that lead to a cucurucho puzzle, Dapper’s hat, and Bbh’s plane ticket.

Parts of it looked Federation built while others certainly were not. Could this have been created/sponsored by the dark cucurucho?

Ok ok. We discovered the maze when an unknown entity delivered the coords to Tubbo, Slime, and Roier via black concrete. The maze is some kind of abandoned federation facility. It seems that light cucurucho can’t go in meanwhile dark cucurucho is living down there somehow. Then the “space ship” appears and all the eggs start leaving messages with black concrete as if their dimension was leaving traces on this world through the contact. Then code Flippa leads the gang into the maze to find it also corrupted. The message they received about protocol AB was glitchy and the books they found were distinctly not the cururuchos we are familiar with. The cucurucho puzzle’s answer was a cheerleader pin up of cucurucho that lead to black, red, and white dice, Bad’s plane ticket and Dapper’s top hat.

Ok. Theory time, I’m gonna grasp at straws and try to piece things together XD

The structure that appeared is a conduit between the dimensions. It allows the other world to affect this one easier. Where ever this world is is the origins of the code entities. Dark cucurucho is connected to this other world somehow kr has some influence there. We know the codes original goal was to make everyone leave the island. What if this other dimension is a prison/garbage disposal of the federation’s failed experiments?

Luzu’s computer was a link in the beginning that allowed first contact to be made and the first code to cross over. Luzu’s computer was eventually destroyed (by the federation?) and the code lost its form/began to decay (i don’t remember the timeline here). The federation claimed to have some kind of power over the codes and promised they wouldn’t be a problem during the election cycle which makes sense if they are failed experiments. They might have partial control, just enough to neuter them temporarily, as it took a while before the codes attacked again - and when they did they took a new approach.

The codes took the form of the eggs and attacked the presidential candidates. If they want to make the islanders leave/resist the federation so they don’t wind up as more failed experiments then it makes sense the codes would try to kill the candidates. They would want to stop the election from happening because that means the islanders will be even more trapped/less likely to leave.

After the election they turned their focus entirely into Etoiles and getting the code sword and shield. Maybe there is something within this dimension that is incredibly powerful - an old experiment that the federation created this dimension to imprison - that is trying to get out. While in the dimension, nothing can die as this dimension is entirely in code. That’s why the eggs are safe there, why they haven’t needed any tasks done, why their life cycle has paused - because they aren’t corporeal, they’ve been reduced to code and are thus untouchable. The binary entities have been in this dimension for so long they no longer remember what they used to look like.

However, have u noticed that once the codes got one sword, they’ve been able to duplicate them infinitely? Maybe that’s why they wanted the shield back from Etoiles. Within this other world, the codes can create more of those items. Maybe they were using Etoiles to train themselves so that when this powerful experiment breaks free they’ll be able to destroy it? Maybe they were training Etoiles so he’d be able to destroy it? Maybe they are duplicating the op sword and shield so the islanders will be able to kill it? Idk

I got a little side tracked so let’s get back to the maze. The codes have a vested interest in the players Lear ing about this entity if it’s going to break free. Whoever is on the other side brought Tubbo and crew to the maze (was it dark cucurucho?) Within the maze they discovered the transmission confirming that the federation knows why the eggs ran away. Dark cucurucho showed them the wheel and the egg items but we still have no clue what that was. Perhaps this is dark cucurucho’s job, to keep the federation’s mistakes forgotten and it is preparing the players for when the fed’s mistake breaks free via its influence in this other dimension.

Then today we have code Flippa bring us to a part of the maze I think was built/hijacked directly by dark cucurucho. It was a distinctly federation structure that had been renovated with darker colors and black concrete and the books were a scary kind of playful. The cururucho maze makes sense because the dark cucurucho is mocking light cucurucho. Maybe this dark cucurucho is tired of cleaning up after the federation or despises the other cucuruchos because it’s forced to live in the sewers cleaning up their shit.

It knows bbh, what he’s capable of, so it brought him here via code assistance to show him a piece of his past he doesn’t remember. It wants to tear down the federation just like the islanders so it is spreading all the federations dirty laundry for the islanders to see. First confirmation that the federation knows why the eggs left and now bbh’s past visit to the island he doesn’t remember. Maybe dark cucurucho is even aiding in bringing the fed’s monster back so it can destroy the fed itself.

I have no clue I feel like I’m still as confused as when I started writing this XD tell me ur thoughts and theories cuz I’m at a loss lol

#qsmp #crimson speaks #I feel like I’m grasping at straws #but this other dimension being a prison the fed created for a failed experiment they can’t control would be dope #and dark cucurucho being a sort of janitor of the Fed’s mistakes could also make sense #I definately 100% think dark curucuho is responsible for the adventure today #it wanted bbh to learn about his past visit #and has some influence over the codes/code flippa #idk idk idk #brain is mush #I order pizza now

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overworkedblorbobattle · 9 months

Text

Overworked Blorbo Battle Round 1!

Round 1 will be split into 8 waves of 8 week long polls with each wave being posted 24 hours after the previous begins. The first wave will start on Friday the 29th of July at 3pm BST

The matchups are listed under the readmore

The matchups were all randomised although I did make minor adjustments if I thought one was much too unfair.

Wave 1:

Ada Paige (Rythm Doctor) Vs Sips (Fools Gold)

Cliopher Mdang (The Hands Of The Emperor) Vs The Manager (The Hotel Podcast)

Adam Parrish (The Raven Cycle) Vs Five Pebbles (Rain World)

Almond Cookie (Cookie Run) Vs Steven Universe (Steven Universe)

Dot Campbell (The Wilds) Vs Hera (Wolf 359)

Arthur Lester (Malevolent Podcast) Vs Gordon Michael Schwinn (A New Brain)

Anthy Himemiya (Revolutionary Girl Utena) Vs Fu Hua (Honkai Impact 3rd)

Commander Peepers (Wander Over Yonder) Vs Kusuo Saiki (The Disastrous Life Of Saiki K.)

Wave 2:

Bucky Barnes (Marvel) Vs Percy Jackson (Percy Jackson)

Dana Scully (The X Files) Vs Gregor Samsa (Metamorphosis)

Danny Fenton (Danny Phantom) Vs Harrowhark Nonagesimus (Gideon The Ninth)

George Cubbins/Karim (Lockwood and Co) Vs Ling Wen (Heaven’s Official Blessing)

DC/GOV (Welcome To The Table) Vs Pandemonica (Helltaker)

David Jacobs (Newsies) Vs Logainne Schwartzandgrubenierre (The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee)

Dean Winchester (Supernatural) Vs Squidward (SpongeBob SquarePants)

Ford Pines (Gravity Falls) Vs Charlie Magne (Hazbin Hotel)

Wave 3:

Gilgamesh Wulfenbach (Girl Genius) Vs Charlotte Dubois (Falsettos)

Jaehee Kang (Mystic Messenger) Vs Angela (Lobotomy Corporation)

Kevin Kandy (Spooky Month) Vs Robin (Smash Legends)

Kento Nanami (Jujutsu Kaisen) Vs Vera Oberlin (Monster Prom)

Homura Akemi (Madoka Magica) Vs Ratchet (Transformers)

Hunter (The Owl House) Vs Ponder Stibbons (Discworld)

Isabelle (Animal Crossing) Vs Aymeric De Borel (Final Fantasy)

Izzy Hands (Our Flag Means Death) Vs Luisa Madrigal (Encanto)

Wave 4:

Jean Gunnhildr (Genshin Impact) Vs Aki Hayakawa (Chainsaw Man)

Jonathan Sims (The Magnus Archives) Vs William T Spears (Black Butler)

Jotaro Kujo (Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure) Vs Adora (She Ra)

Keito Hasumi (Ensemble Stars!) Vs Doppo Kannonzaka (Hypnosis Mic)

Jeremie Belpois (Code Lyoko) Vs Chip Revvington (Toontown: Corporate Clash)

Jamil Viper (Twisted Wonderland) Vs Lisa Wilbourn (Worm)

Guillermo de la Cruz (What We Do In The Shadows) Vs Buffy Summers (Buffy The Vampire Slayer)

Kim Dojka (Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint) Vs Shang Qinghua (Scum Villain's Self-Saving System)

Wave 5:

Kurapika (Hunter X Hunter) Vs Mafuyu Asahina (Project Sekai/Colorful Stage)

Lucifer (Obey Me!) Vs The Elsen (Off)

Marsh (Mistborn) Vs Lisa Cuddy (House MD)

Matthew Venn (The Long Call) Vs Carol Hathaway (ER)

Larry Needlemeyer (The Amazing World Of Gumball) Vs Kim Kitsuragi (Disco Elysium)

Merlin (BBC Merlin) Vs Dick Gumshoe (Ace Attorney)

Maedhros Feanorian (The Simarillion) Vs Riza Hawkeye (Fullmetal Alchemist)

Laerryn Coramar Seelie (Critical Role) Vs Lucretia (The Adventure Zone)

Wave 6:

Miles O’Brien (Star Trek) Vs Jonathan Harker (Dracula)

Miss Pauling (Team Fortress 2) Vs Susan Taxpayer (Susan Taxpayer)

MK (Lego Monkey Kid) Vs Kunikida Doppo (Bungo Stray Dogs)

Molly Blyndeff (Epithet Erased) Vs Emma Perkins (The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals)

Mrs Doyle (Father Ted) Vs Jess Jordan (Succession)

Nicholas Benedict (The Mysterious Benedict Society) Vs Jafar (Twisted: The Story Of A Royal Vizier)

Nishida (Yakuza) Vs Touta Matsuda (Death Note)

Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars) Vs Alfred Pennyworth (Batman)

Wave 7:

Olruggio (Witch Hat Atelier) Vs Walter Pensive (Hello From The Hallowoods)

Parsley Botch (Smile For Me) Vs Peppino Spaghetti (Pizza Tower)

Raphael Walt (My Next Life as a Villainess) Vs Hawkeye Pierce (MASH)

Sara Chidouin (Your Turn To Die) Vs Reim Lunettes (Pandora Hearts

SecUnit (The MurderBot Diaries) Vs Lamplighter (Oneshot)

The Captain (BBC Ghosts) Vs Munkustrap (Cats)

Retsuko (Aggretsuko) Vs Burgerpants (Undertale)

Ryotaro Dojima (Persona) Vs Kiyotaka Ishimaru (Danganronpa)

Wave 8:

Steven Alen Starphase (Blood Blockade Battlefront/Kekkai Sensen) Vs Trafalgar Law (One Piece)

Shota Aizawa (My Hero Academia) Vs Loid Forger (Spy X Family)

Stanley (The Stanley Parable) Vs Rory Williams (Doctor Who)

The Cabbage Merchant (Avatar The Last Airbender) Vs Larry (Pokémon)

Mario & Luigi (Super Mario Bros) Vs Link (The Legend Of Zelda)

Peregrine Mendicant (Homestuck) Vs Marinette Dupain-Cheng (Miraculous Ladybug)

Reagan Ridley (Inside Job) Vs Will Graham (Hannibal)

Twilight Sparkle (My Little Pony) Vs Carmen Sandiego (Carmen Sandiego)

#tournament bracket #tournament brackets #tournament #tournaments #round 1 #tournament updates #tournament dates #overworked blorbo battle

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sofiaispunk · 10 months

Text

The Space Cowboy and his Ladybug - CHAPTER 6

Javier Peña x reader

Summary: You visit Chucho's farm with your husband, Steven, where unexpected tensions and old wounds resurface. Tensions escalate to a boiling point, leaving you with a life-altering decision to make.

Words: 2,7K

Warnings: angst, trust issues, violence, brief mention of past domestic abuse (mentally and physically), insecurity, references to suicide attempt, smut, TRAUMA, slow burn, heartbreak, cheating, unhappy marriage

The gravel beneath the tires of your sleek, black car crunched as you pull into Chucho's familiar driveway. The familiar aroma of hay and livestock filled the air, stirring up a cocktail of nostalgia and anticipation within you. As you looked out of the car window, your eyes are met with the timeless beauty of the farm. The barn stands as tall as ever, its rustic red paint worn yet still vibrant. The old oak tree, your childhood retreat, cast a long, comforting shadow over the familiar scene.

Stepping out of the car, your sandals sank into the soft earth. The landscape looked almost the same, except now, it was bathed in the golden hue of your memories. You recalled the countless hours you spent playing here, always with Chucho ready to tend to your scrapes and comfort you after your father's bouts of anger.

Chucho emerged from the barn wearing his usual cowboy hat and plaid shirt. His face lit up at the sight of you, "Mija!" he called out, pulling you into a big bear hug. You breathed in his familiar scent, a comforting blend of earth and tobacco, and for a moment, you feel like you're thirteen again.

You introduced your husband to Chucho. While Steven shook Chucho's hand, he looked down to check his shoes for dust. You just rolled your eyes to that, how rude.

As you all walked towards the farmhouse, Chucho peppered Steven with questions. However, Steven’s curt responses, which were always mainly centered around his achievements and possessions, slowly erase the initial warmth from Chucho’s face.

You noticed Chucho settin an extra plate at the table, your heart fluttered. "Is Javier joining us?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. Steven looked at you, confused, "Who’s Javier?"

The room went silent as Chucho looked up to you, shock evident on his face. "You never told him about Javier?" he asked, disbelief lacing his voice. Steven, however, seems uninterested and casually flicked through his phone, "She never talks about her past."

Chucho’s eyes softened as he turned to you, his understanding gaze seems to read the pain you carried from your past. After a moment's hesitation, you spoke up, "We grew up together. Javier is … was my best friend." Steven gave you a short nod, signalizing he heard you.

As you all sat down at the dinner table, the delicious aroma of the food Chucho prepared envelope the room. The wooden table is set with care, and Chucho sat opposite to you and Steven.

Chucho cleared his throat and begins to engage Steven in conversation. "So, Steven, what do you do for a living? I heard you are a lawyer?" he asked politely.

“Yep, I’m a lawyer,” Steven replied nonchalantly, without looking up from his phone.

“Ah, that’s a noble profession. You must help a lot of people in need. Tell me, what was the last case that made you feel like you’ve made a difference?”

Steven smirked, still not looking up from his damn phone. “Oh, I don’t do that kind of law. I’m a corporate lawyer. My last case got one of the biggest tech companies off the hook. Saved them a fortune and made myself a pretty penny.”

Chucho raised an eyebrow but continued. “I see. Well, providing is important too. How do you two like to spend time together?” Chucho asked, his gaze shifting between you and Steven.

Steven finally glanced up from his phone. “Well, you know, parties, events, the usual. Anything where she can wear one of her fancy dresses. Right, honey?” He chuckled.

You felt your cheeks turning red with embarrassment as Chucho looked at you with concern.

But he continued his inquiry. “Steven, tell me son, what do you think is the most important thing in a marriage?”

Without hesitation, Steven answered, “Well, stability, I guess. And by stability, I mean financial stability. Everything else can be managed.”

There’s a slight frown on Chucho’s face, but he pressed on. “And how about love? Trust? Spending quality time together?”

Steven waved his hand dismissively. “Sure, those are nice bonuses.”

You could see Chucho's face becoming a mix of disappointment and concern.

He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Steven, this wonderful woman sitting next to you, she is like a daughter to me. Her heart is made of gold. She’s been through enough for a lifetime. What I want to know is, are you going to be the person that makes sure she never has to face a day without love and understanding?”

Steven rolled his eyes to that, “Look, I get it. You care about her. But we have our life, and it’s working just fine. Plus, I don’t need your approval or anything.”

As Steven leaned back, seemingly oblivious to the gravity of his words, something inside you finally snapped. Your voice, firm and resolute, filled the room. “Steven! How dare you speak to Chucho like that? This is the man who was like a father to me when my own wasn't there! Show some respect!”

Chucho placed a comforting hand on your arm, trying to calm you down.

“Mija, it’s okay. I am sure he didn’t mean it like that. Let’s just enjoy the dinner,” he said softly.

But you were struggling to contain the pent up emotions. Before you could say anything else, the sound of a truck pulling up outside caught everyone’s attention.

The door swung open and in walked Javier, wearing a light blue button-up shirt with his signature yellow aviators hanging on his shirt. His hair was slightly tousled, and for a second, you forgot how to breathe. You couldn’t help but think that he looked like the epitome of perfection.

Javier took a seat and gave a curt nod to Steven after Chucho introduced them. There was a distance in his eyes, especially when he looked at you which you immediatelty noticed.

The air was thick with tension. Javier’s presence brought a rush of memories and emotions, making the atmosphere even more charged.

Steven's eyes suddenly narrowed and he leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Oh, so you are the Javier everybody keeps talking about. Weird, she never mentioned your name before,” he said, gesturing towards you.

Javier's face remained unreadable as he coolly replied, “Yeah, we knew each other briefly. Wasn’t too important.”

You felt like his words just cut through you, and you involuntarily gasp. You tried to hide the hurt his comment caused, but you felt the weight of his words pushing down on your chest. You remained silent, biting back the flood of emotions threatening to spill over.

Chucho, always the peacemaker, tried to steer the conversation away, but the damage was already done. Your heart felt heavy, and the room suddenly seems much smaller.

As the dinner progressed, Steven seemed to take an interest in talking about himself again. He started describing one of his latest cases in elaborate detail, mentioning the enormous settlement he managed to secure for his client.

Finally, Steven took a breath and looked at Javier with a somewhat condescending smirk. “So, Javier, what do you do? You said you’re a pilot? What, like for a small airline or something?”

Javier straightend up in his chair. “No,” he said, his voice steady. “I work for the DEA.”

Chucho couldn’t contain his pride and added. “He was in Colombia for years. Took down Escobar, he did!” he beamed excitedly, his eyes twinkling with admiration.

Steven chuckled dryly. “Wow, running around in a poor country playing superhero. I could never do that. Be away from the comfort of my home and, of course, my lovely lady here.” He said this in a tone dripping with sarcasm, pointing to you.

You felt a twinge of annoyance at Steven's condescending attitude but remain silent.

Javier’s jaw clenched, but he maintained his cool demeanor. Steven, meanwhile, continued to prod. “So, are you married, Javier? Got someone waiting for you at home?”

Javier’s eyes flickered briefly towards you before he answered curtly, “No.”

The room fell silent again for the 124524 time. You could almost feel the weight of the unsaid words and emotions between you and Javier. Steven, oblivious to the underlying currents, continued to dig into his meal.

Chucho, sensing the tension, began to talk about the farm and how the harvest has been this year, slowly steering the conversation back to safer ground.

The conversation at the table continued to swirl around you, but you felt your chest tightening. You couldn’t take it anymore – the bickering, the memories, the hurt, all of it was just too much. Without a word, you pushed back your chair and rush out of the room.

You headed towards the stables, where the horses were. This place was your sanctuary when you were a teenager, and everything seemed overwhelming. The soft neighing of the horses and their warm presence always managed to calm your stormy heart.

You buried your face in the mane of one of the horses and allowed the tears to flow. The weight of the years and the emotions that you kept buried for so long seem to finally found release.

After a while, you heared footsteps approaching. You didn’t need to look up to know it’s Chucho. He always knew where to find you.

You both stood there in silence for a while. The night air was cool, and the gentle breeze carried the earthy smell of the fields.

Finally, Chucho broke the silence. His voice was tender but firm. “Mija, why did you marry him? I know, and you know, that he doesn’t deserve you. He’s a total jerk.”

You just shrugged, your eyes welling up again. There were no words that can capture the depth of your emotions right now.

Chucho opened his arms, and you collapsed into his embrace. His warmth and strength enveloped you, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to be that scared teenager again, finding solace in his care.

“I still love him,” you whisper through sobs. “I love him so much it hurts, and I can’t bear it anymore.”

Chucho didn’t need clarification on whom you were talking about. He knew. He’s always known. He simply held you tighter and let you cry.

After what felt like an eternity, you felt a sense of calm. Chucho gently pushed you back, holding your face in his hands, and looked into your eyes.

“Let me tell you something, mija, something you need to know.”

You looked at him attentively, your heart pounding in your chest.

“The day you left Laredo,” Chucho started, “Javier went out of his mind looking for you. He drove around town all night, shouting your name, knocking on doors. It was as if a part of him was ripped out and he couldn’t breathe.”

Chucho’s voice softened. “For weeks, months even, he was looking for you. We all were worried sick about him. He was like a ghost, going through the motions of life but not really living.”

Your breath caught in your throat as Chucho continued.

“And then, the night before his wedding, Lorraine told him the truth. She was drunk, and it slipped out. She told him about the phone call she had with you, how you told her you were hurt by your dad and needed help.”

A single tear rolled down your cheek as you remember the pain of that night, the utter despair.

“Javier,” Chucho’s voice broke a little, “he went wild with anger and guilt. He drove straight to your dad’s house in the middle of the night. He confronted him, and it took five men to pull him off your father.”

Your hand immediately flew to your mouth as you stifle a sob. Chucho’s arm was still around you, his presence strong and comforting.

“And the next day,” Chucho’s voice was now barely above a whisper, “he didn’t show up to his own wedding. He couldn’t marry her, knowing what he knew, knowing that he failed the one person he truly loved.”

The night air was still, and the only sounds were the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft breathing of the horses. You felt like your heart is going to burst from your chest.

Chucho looked at you and smiled tenderly. “Mija, love is a powerful thing. It can break us, but it can also heal us. Don’t let the pain of the past rob you of the joy that could be in your future.”

You took a deep breath and nod.

Chucho continued, his eyes looking now up at the night sky.

“Javier, he’s always been running. After the wedding that never was, he fled to Colombia. Searching for something, anything, to fill the void. He thought that if he could save others, maybe he could save himself,” Chucho’s voice was laden with emotion.

“But no matter how many criminals he caught, no matter how many lives he saved, it never was enough. It couldn’t bring him peace. Because what he was really searching for was not in Colombia or anywhere else in the world.”

Chucho turned back to you, his eyes piercing into yours. “He was looking for you, mija. You are the missing piece in his soul, just as he is yours.”

You felt like your entire world is spinning. All these years, all the pain and loneliness, it all made sense now. You and Javier, two souls lost in the world, looking for the one thing that could make you whole – each other.

As you entered the house again, you found Steven pacing the living room like a caged animal. His face was red, and you could feel the anger radiating off him. The moment he saw you, he stormed over, his fingers biting into your arm as he grabbed you.

"Where have you been?" he snarled, his voice reverberating through the room. "You leave me alone in this place, and you make a scene? What is wrong with you?”

The pain from his grip made you cry out. Your heart was pounding as tears welled up in my eyes.

That’s when you saw a blur of motion from the corner of your eye. Javier had emerged from the kitchen, his face set in stone.

“Get your hands off her,” he thundered. Before you knew what was happening, Javier had Steven by the collar and shoved him up against the wall. His voice was low and menacing as he growled, “If you ever talk to her or touch her like that again, I swear to God you’ll fucking regret it.”

Steven’s eyes were wide with shock and he stuttered, trying to form words but failing.

Javier's gaze didn’t waver. He looked like a man who’d seen too much, and wouldn’t allow another ounce of pain to be inflicted upon someone he cared about.

Suddenly, Chucho appeared in the room, taking in the scene with a calm but stern gaze.

“Javier,” Chucho said firmly. Javier seemed to hear something unspoken in Chucho’s voice, and he released Steven, who crumpled to the floor.

As Javier’s dark eyes bore into Steven, he commanded him, "Leave. Now."

Steven, still panting from the confrontation, replied with a snarl, "Gladly." Then, he reached for your arm and yanked you towards him. His gaze was cold as ice as he looked down at you. "Are you coming or what?"

The room seemed to constrict around you. Your breaths came shallow, and you felt like the walls were closing in on you once again.

You were torn from your thoughts when Javier's voice broke through the tension. "No... wait, Bug, please..Stay.”

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