#Call me paranoid but I'm not taking any chances | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starringp1 · 3 months ago

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Office hours

Synopsis: Working hard for an upcoming promotion, the last thing you need is your boss glued to your back for no apparent reason. Stubborn as you are, you're set on finding out why. So when you do, you realize he isn't the last thing, but everything you need.

Pairing: CEO!Yunho x office worker!afab reader (ft. Hongjoong) Wordcount: 10.7k | 5k plot - 6k smut

Content: 18+ mdni; big dick yunho, somewhat cheating?? but not rlly, choking, dom!Yunho, degrading, face fucking, fingering, oral both!receiving, unprotected sex (stay safe irl!!), liiiittle bit of pegging, a tiny bit of voyeurism?, spit play

The soft sounds of rain droplets run against your window, thunder and lightning about to make their way to you. Next to the tapping of the rain, the only noise audible is the clicking of your keyboard, as you sit in your office wrapping up the last pieces of paperwork.

Someone gently knocks on your door and when you tell them to come in, Jeong Yunho enters, politely greeting you. "Miss, I think it's time for you to go home. Take a rest." you quickly stand up and bow your head, holding back the surprised look on your face. It's not often that your boss comes your way, let alone to your office. "What brings you here Mr. Jeong?" you offer him a seat in one of the chairs in front of your desk before pushing close the laptop you have been working on.

"I saw light in your office and was wondering why you're still working, at this time of day, or I should probably say, night." he takes a performative look at the watch on his wrist.

"Well, there's some documents I'd like to finish today, to lighten my workload. I want to clear my schedule as much as possible for the upcoming project. As you know, I need to perform well." you give Mr. Jeong a polite smile, before opening your laptop again after realizing he has no pressing matters to be discussed. "Also, it just started raining, so I'd rather use my time wisely, instead of getting soaked trying to get home. My car is in maintenance."

Your superior doesn't seem delighted at your response and leans back in his chair. He watches you type on your computer for a while before speaking up again. "You know you can always ask for one of the secretaries to help, right?" his hand reaches up and tugs on his tie to loosen it slightly. Your eyes flicker up to him for a second before concentrating on the screen again. "Yeah sure," you scoff, "because someone in my position needs help? I know HR and most importantly you are watching me, Sir."

You finally stop typing and look up into Mr. Jeongs eyes. "I won't be throwing this chance away, just because I'm a little worn out."

A loud rumbling of thunder suddenly arises and the loud banging makes you flinch. Mr. Jeong chuckles lightly before opening the top button of his shirt, eyes never leaving yours. "I think you're too paranoid, which is not a good quality in a leading position." he winks at you. You clench your jaw, realizing he'd be able to turn anything you say to his favor.

"I'm not trying to sabotage you, neither do I think you're lazy. I sincerely wish for you to go home because it's late." a soft smile flashes across his face. "A couple of investors are coming in on short notice tomorrow and I haven't told any of the candidates yet, because I'm planning to call in an emergency meeting." Mr. Jeong immediately catches the confusion in your face and before you can even ask, he answers your question.

"I'm only letting you in on this, because you are so adamant on working at this ungodly hour. So do me a favor and tell no one of this." he puts his finger up to his lips as if to shush you, though you already know it isn't a request, but a command. You nod slowly, packing up your things with a sigh.

Strangely enough, Mr. Jeong waits for you and the two of you leave your office together. A soft jingle is playing when the doors of the elevator open and the two of you enter. Your hand reaches out to press the button for the lobby, but Mr. Jeong grabs your wrist and instead presses the button for the underground parking lot.

"I'm driving you home."

You open your mouth to somehow decline his offer, but he shuts you down immediately. "I insist, Ms. y/s."

a/n; y/s meaning your surname or last name

You're feeling tired and you don't have it in you to fight back today, so you decide to just go along with it. Yet you can't help but be provocative. "Sir, I don't mean to be rude nor am I interpreting this the wrong way, but are you sure this is okay for your wife?" Mr. Jeong stops in his tracks and looks at you amused. He gives you a light smile just for it to turn into a stern, almost threatening look. "What my wife deems to be okay or not, is none of your business, Ms. y/s. I suggest you be thankful of my generosity, driving you home." he almost seems a little on edge, so you're sure you've hit a sensitive spot. Needless to say, you regret asking in the first place.

You mumble out a quick apology, before entering his car, Mr. Jeong holding open the door for you. It's a little awkward when he settles in place next to you and you try to avoid his gaze. "Give me your adress." his deep voice makes you shift in your seat and you hope for the ride to end as quickly as possible, when the car has just left the parking lot. Arms crossed, you're crouched in your seat and watch the raindrops on your window rolling down.

Mr. Jeong seems to misread your body language and increases the heater. For a while you withstand the thick air, but soon you find it unbearable, due to the windows being closed because of the now heavy rain. You take off your jacket and fan air with your hand, all the while Mr. Jeong doesn't seem affected at all. "Sir, how long is the ride?"

"We'll be there soon, don't worry." you almost feel like you can sense a sly smile on his lips, but you don't want to stare at him too obviously. Is he doing this on purpose? Too embarrassed to ask if he can turn off the heater, you can't seem to get behind it, so you try not to think about it any further and keep your eyes plastered onto the dark street in front of you.

When the car finally comes to a stop, you're sure your face is all flushed from the heat, blouse sticking to your back from the sweat. Even Mr. Jeong seems to be hot now, his breathing a little heavier, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Why wouldn't he just turn on the AC? You can't help but let your gaze linger a little on his upper body, veins flowing down his arms to the hands, that were gripping the steering wheel up until now.

Quickly you advert your eyes, undoing your seatbelt. Suddenly Mr. Jeong undoes his too, your brows furrowing in confusion. "Relax, I'm just bringing you to your front door, since you don't have an umbrella." He leaves the car, draping his jacket over his head. When he opens your door, he leans down to cover you from the rainfall. "Nothing my wife should be upset about." he adds, earning an embarrassed look from you.

You close the car door and Mr. Jeong holds his jacket above his head, urging you to slip beside him. You hesitantly press up against him while the two of you slowly walk over to your apartment complex. His arm sneaks around your shoulder, holding you close while shielding you from the rain. You can feel the heat radiating from him and you're sure your body feels just as hot to him.

When you reach the front door, which luckily has a small roof, he lowers his jacket and scans your body. "You're so wet." and for a split second, your heartbeat increases, before realizing he was talking about your legs, that hadn't been covered from the rain. Though for some reason, you feel like his choice of words was intentional.

"It's okay, I'm home now, aren't I?" you give him a wry smile before fishing for the key in your bag. "Thank you Mr. Jeong, I appreciate it. I hope it wasn't too big of an inconvenience."

"Not at all miss, anything to have you home safe and sound." he reaches out his hand to see you off with a handshake. Hesitantly you grab it, as you would usually bow and not say goodbye western style. His big hand wraps around yours, long fingers enveloping almost all of it. "See you tomorrow Ms. y/s. Rest well ." his thumb caresses your skin a few times before finally letting go, an undoubtedly ominous smile on his lips.

You hurry inside when he leaves, leaning against the door of your apartment.

What the hell was that?

When you wake up the next day and get ready for work, you can`t help but wonder about last night. In the beginning you had been sure Mr. Jeong just wanted to be nice and maybe somewhat make a picture of his own, of one of the candidates for the recently vacant position of chief operating officer.

The company was running on the efforts of young people, but for someone as young as you to work their way up the ranks this quickly, was still an astounding accomplishment. You knew this and so did everyone else. It had gained you a newfound respect, as well as some enemies, though mainly older collegues who were envious of you. Since Mr. Jeong hadn't been the CEO for long (the chairman had stepped down from the position of chief executive officer) he naturally wasn't too informed about the strengths of the higher ranking employees.

It was in fact his spot that opened up, as he got promoted from COO to CEO. You feel uneasy, not knowing his intentions after last night. Was it just some kind of manipulation tactic to see if you are fit for the position? Or was he acually hitting on you? You try to convince yourself you're just reading into it, but you know all too well even a marriage won't keep a man from cheating.

And now that you think about it, you realize you barely see Mr. Jeong without a female coworker next to him. All this, while wearing a ring on his finger.

A few hours later, you find yourself looking at exactly this ring, as Mr. Jeong has called in the emergency meeting, just like he said he would. Somewhat you are a little prepared thanks to him telling you in advance, but it also pressures you to perform even better, as if he is expecting it from you.

"Ms. y/s, I would like to have a word with you." Mr. Jeong calls out to you after the meeting ends. He doesn't even look up from the sheets scattered on the table, voice sounding almost concerned. When the conference room has cleared, the two of you sit in silence for a while, until you speak up. "Sir, what did you want to talk about?"

Finally his eyes meet yours and he looks.. disappointed. "As you probably have noticed, I told everyone in advance of this 'emergency meeting'. I wanted to see how each one of you would prepare themselves."

You definitely had noticed. The meeting went by too fast and smooth, for it to be truly a surprise for all the participants present. 'So it was a ruse all along' you think to yourself feeling relieved. He was indeed just trying to get you out of concept, not hitting on you.

"You didn't satisfy me today." and maybe speaking ambiguously was just his thing...

"I expected you to make good use of my briefing, but you didn't. Why didn't you prepare your materials properly?"

"I felt like it would've been weird if I seemed too well prepared in comparison to my colleagues. Also I deemed it unfair to those who didn't know about the meeting." you admit, hands fumbling with the hem of your blouse beneath the table. "Well Ms. y/s, the world just isn't fair." Mr. Jeong sighs and leans back in his chair. "Look. I still think you are a suitable candidate and I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt, because I know very well what it's like to be working with all of these geezers."

A smile forms on your lips as he starts speaking so informal. Jeong Yunho is only a couple years older than you, of course having the advantage of being the chairmans son, nonetheless. "So please promise me to be a little more selfish? I think being fair is an important quality, but wit also is." you nod along, feeling almost ashamed.

"Mr. Jeong can I ask you something?" fiddling with your hands, you try to hold his gaze. "Are you only looking out for me because we almost share the same age, or is there another reason..?"

"What other reason would there be?" his voice sounds surprised and it has your cheeks heat up from the embarassment. "None.. please ignore what I just said."

He gives you an indifferent look before finally letting you go. "I suppose you'll be working late again today, Ms. y/s?"

"Yes sir, is there anything you need?"

"Nothing in particular, I'll just be dropping off some spreadsheets at your office." he gives you a last polite smile before his eyes are fixated on the papers in front of him. You leave the conference room, quickly making your way to your office.

Why would he need to drop off spreadsheets by himself when a mere assistant could do the same? You groan and fall into your chair, massaging your temples. Jeong Yunhos weird behavior is getting to you and you're sure it's part of his scheme. It doesn't help that he is (per your judging) the most attractive man in this company which oh so happens to partly belong to him? This whole situation feels like bullshit.

You just want the scouting part to be done and over with and the new chief operating officer to be announced, so you don't need to deal with this anymore.

'Hold out y/n, think of your future.' you affirm yourself, tapping back into work.

When it's dark outside, a knock on your door brings you to pry your eyes away from your laptop. You expect it to be your boss, but instead Kim Hongjoong enters, a colleague you grew rather close with over the past few years.

"Hongjoong? What do you need?" surprised to see him, you take a little break. "Why do you always suppose I need something?" he pouts a little, letting himself fall onto your office chair. "I was working until now and haven't had dinner yet. You wanna clock out and grab something to eat?"

Just as the words leave his lips, you can feel your stomach rumbling. Today was not a good day. The exhaustion is creeping up your body and for once, you really want to get out of your office and stop working. With a nod, you save all drafts on your laptop and get ready to leave.

"What do you wanna eat?" you ask your friend, opening the door for him. But Hongjoong doesn't reply and just stands still with a startled look on his face. Mr. Jeong stands right in front of your door, hand balled to a fist - he was about to knock when you opened up.

"Mr. Kim. What are you doing in Ms. y/s' office at this hour?" Mr. Jeong sounds a little taken aback but you can't pinpoint why. Hongjoong quickly bows before replying. "Good evening Sir. We were just about to leave the office together."

Jeong Yunhos gaze turns towards you and he looks disappointed. "I thought I told you earlier I was dropping by."

"I-it's late already, I thought you weren't coming anymore." you stammer, trying to find an excuse. In all honesty you were hoping not to see him anymore after todays dilemma. "Hongjo- I mean Mr. Kim, I'll be with you in a second." you say, gesturing him to wait outside.

"You don't need to wait up Mr. Kim. I'll need Ms. y/s to tend to these documents," he wavers the papers in his hands in the air, "It'll take a while for sure."

And with those words, Mr. Jeong closes the door in front of your friends face, not even waiting for a reply.

You just stand there dumbfounded. What just happened? "Sir, we were actually about to have dinner..." you mumble, "it's really late, can't I look over the papers tomorrow?"

He ponders for a moment, before leaning against the door with crossed arms. "If you're too tired to be working on these, then you shouldn't be going out to eat with a coworker." his tone is sharp and his eyes are squinting at you.

"W-well I can't really sleep on an empty stomach." you give him an apologetic look.

He closes his eyes slowly and sighs quietly. "Excuse me, I'm not sure what has gotten into me. Of course you need to rest. These can wait." he places the sheets on your desk. "Guess that means we'll be spending more time together tomorrow." a light smile spreads across his face. You keep getting this suspicious feeling in the back of your mind and you're really hoping you're wrong, but you feel like Mr. Jeong is... jealous.

"What do you want to eat?"

Surprisedly you raise your eyebrows in surprise at his question. "You said you're hungry. So I'll take you out for dinner. I'm sure Mr. Kim is already long gone."

You have to hold back a scoff at Mr. Jeongs statement. You are very sure Mr. Kim hasn't gotten that far and is probably still in this very building. But you get the feeling you shouldn't be disagreeing with your superior right now, so there's nothing you can do except for giving into him.

"I don't really care, you can choose the restaurant, sir." you reply, wondering how your dinner plans with Hongjoong suddenly turned into dinner plans with your boss, Jeong Yunho.

Somehow, this becomes an almost daily occurence. Mr. Jeong comes by your office unannounced in the evenings to 'discuss work matters', or finds ways to have you come to his instead, like entrusting you with delivering important papers to a colleague "because a simple assistant could mess things up" or "because you should look into the documents as well". When it gets too late, he ends office hours with you and insists on driving you home just like the first time, eventhough you have your car back.

Soon you can't deny the fact you're starting to grow fond of him. He's very charming, knows how to make you laugh and when he smiles at you it gives you this fuzzy feeling in the pit of your stomach, which you try to ignore. Most importantly; you find working with him most pleasant. Mr. Jeong is smart and hardworking, it makes sense to you that he was given the opportunity to lead the company at such a young age, even when related to the chairman.

Older colleagues had been in favor of the position, but still didn't make it.

Slowly but surely, having him this close to you is making you go insane. Your intuition tells you he's being way too nice for a superior, or any other colleague at that. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but you're not ready to admit it yet. Buying you coffee, leaving work together and one time him inviting you out for lunch (which you declined) have the rumours rolling, which isn't great at a crucial time like this. But your biggest concern is the way you can feel yourself catching feelings for him. A married man, who is also your superior.

After almost three weeks of this, you finally snap.

Mr. Jeong had just ordered you to come to his office again, pray tell what reason he'd find today. You take a deep breath, collecting your thoughts.

This was driving you crazy and you couldn't go on like this.

Before entering, you try to calm yourself, as your job could be on the line for this. You knock, waiting for his approval. When you enter the room, a godly picture unfolds before you.

Mr. Jeong has rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned the top three buttons, leaving little to imagine. His cologne lingers in the air, almost as if sprayed on a few minutes ago. His hair is dissheveled, cheeks having a rosy taint to them. He's so focused on his papers he doesn't even bother to greet, nor look up at you.

Your breath catches in your throat for a second, but you keep your resilience. "I can't seem to figure out this problem.." he mumbles, inviting you via hand gesture to sit, eyes still locked with the documents. You sit down in front of him as he turns around the papers. For a few seconds you scan it with your eyes, looking for the issue. As fast as you realize the numbers for a recent project aren't adding up, you also realize the problem doesn't even lie in your department. He should have called someone else to his office, but instead he summoned you here. There was no way he wasn't playing you right now.

"Mr. Jeong please be honest with me. Are you testing me right now? Is it because of my age? To see if i would sleep with my handsome boss to get a promotion?" you blurt out, no longer willing to have him play tricks on you.

"You think I'm handsome?" he retorts, lips wearing a gentle smile.

You immediately feel your face heat up, being at a loss of words for a hot minute. "No! that's not what I... sir, you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"No, I don't think I know. Would you care to enlighten me, Ms. y/s?", his tone has some playfulness to it, almost as if he's enjoying seeing you flustered.

"You call me to your office to solve a problem, which I will barely be any help for. I was neither the project manager nor did I even take part in this one. It's a way different compartment, so why would you involve me out of all people?" your brows seem to be furrowed in anger, but in reality it's your anxiety.

Rudely confronting your superior like this wasn't your greatest idea. But now that you had started, you couldn't just back off like a scared dog. "I think you're reading into this. As potential future chief operating officer you will be faced with things like these all the time. Even if they don't fall under your specialized compartment." Mr. Jeong doesn't seem offended by you stepping out of line and you wonder why.

"Of course I know this, but usually I'd be taking the issue on with the people involved, who were actually working on the project. So where is the project leader? Why are we alone?" You cross your arms in front of your chest. "Why have we been alone so many times for the past few weeks?"

"I commend you for being so insistent, but I get the feeling you're just seeing what you want to see. I've been so good to you, giving insights on tasks and a routine. After all I was favoring you as a candidate. Is this the thanks I get for taking you under my wing?" he replies nonchalantly and you can't help but still be sure he's favoring you in more ways than just work.

Just seeing what you wanted to see? Bullshit, but you can't exactly call your superior a liar. There's nothing else left to say as he keeps denying your allegations, and you feel like you've crossed the line way too far already, so you give up on it.

"I'm guessing it's safe to say I am not in your favor anymore, seeing as you used the word 'was'." lips pressed shut tightly as you try to hold back the heavy feeling in your chest. You really messed up here. "I apologize for my rudeness sir. I'll make sure I won't behave improperly again." you stand up and bow deep, about to take your leave.

Somehow you wonder if maybe you were indeed delusional. The way Mr. Jeong is denying everything you accused him of, hurts. A lot. You had been so sure over the time being, that he was acting differently towards you than other colleagues. And now that you had caught feelings, you needed to confront him. For the sake of your mental well being, as well as the sake of your future at this company.

Mr. Jeong watches you quietly, almost as if he's not sure what to say after your sudden change of heart. Just before stepping out of the room, you turn your head back, looking him directly in the eyes. "Just so you know sir, I still stand by what I said earlier. Now that I'm out of the picture for the position I would like to ask you to stop coming to my office late at night." you bite your bottom lip, hesitant to say the following words.

"It's... giving me the wrong idea."

The stern look on his face turns into a softer one, almost apologetic. "Y/n."

You halt your movements as he suddenly calls you out by your first name. "Did I go to far?" he stands up, hands leaning on his desk. "Please forgive me."

You still stand in the doorway, now completely baffled by the unexpected turn of events. Slowly you step back into the room, closing the door. "You weren't wrong." Mr. Jeong says, inviting you to sit on his office couch. "I didn't want to admit it right away, because I wanted to be sure you want this as well." he explains, but you don't care for that part anymore.

He's had you on his radar weeks before you were even in question as a possible candidate, but there was never reason to summon you. When he decided to join the recruitment committee himself, he knew he had to take the chance, but he wasn't planning on telling you that.

Your mind is racing with thoughts as you try to figure out what to say. He walks over to you, sitting down carefully, your legs almost touching.

"Don't you think I noticed the way you kept looking at me every time we encountered? And especially now?" He refers to his unbuttoned shirt which your eyes keep flickering to. "T-that's because it's all out in the open!" hand automatically reaching up to shield your view from his defined torso, you whine while blushing,

He doesn't reply and instead grabs your wrist, guiding your hand to his chest onto the exposed skin. His warm skin meets your fingers and you suck in a string of air at the contact. "Mr Jeong.." you warn him "I have a job to lose and you a wife." but his grip doesn't let up.

This wasn't exactly what you had in mind when you confronted him. All you wanted to hear was a clear explanation and that you weren't making things up.

"Not if it's within my company." he retorts back with furrowed brows.

"Do you know I consider this psychological warfare? Competing for a promotion but also being at odds to be eliminated any second because my boss who is married is hitting on me?" he finally lets go of your wrist and you pull back your hand.

Scoffing, he's leaning his arm onto the couchs' backrest. "Then care to explain to me why you're dressed like you want me to take off all your clothes each time you come in here? Your skirts get shorter every time I see you." he lets his eyes wander over your body, but doesn't come any closer. "You don't consider that psychological warfare?"

You know you started putting more effort into your outfits and make up, but you hate to admit that it was all for him. Wearing skirts almost everyday, when before you used to wear pants all year long.

"Are you sure you'll be able to walk away from me right now?" he sounds like he's challenging you and you would love to prove him wrong, but you can't.

You stay seated as you're torn on what to do. The rational answer would be to leave his office immediately and try talking to him tomorrow, preferably in an open space. Your mind tells you to stand up, but your body doesn't comply.

The smell of his cologne mixed with his body odor, the flushed cheeks, everything about him makes you want to stay. "I don't know what to do." you confess, hands trembling in your lap.

"But I do."

He leans forward, hand cupping your cheek and his soft lips gently kiss yours. Your eyes flutter shut and all the restraint you had left flies out the window. When he pulls back just a little to look at you, his cheeks are even rosier than before.

He looks like a dream.

"I won't touch you any further if you don't tell me to." he whispers, his hot breath fanning against your face.

"You already did, Yunho." this time you speak with confidence, knowing there's no going back anyway. "So do it again." Your hand holds onto his thigh as you move upwards to embrace his lips in another kiss. His hand flies to your hip and his chest immediately presses up against yours as he pushes you back to lay down on the couch. "I have.. been waiting.. for so long..." he manages to say in between kisses, before grabbing your hair and gently tugging, to suck on the skin on your neck. "Say my name again."

You quietly moan out, arms propped up behind you on their elbows. "Y-yunho..." The hand that was on your hip moves to slip under your shirt, pushing the bra underneath up your boobs. His fingers cup your breast and he slightly pinches your nipple, making you arch your back into his touch. You let yourself fall onto your back to unbutton your blouse, giving him free access.

Yunho takes in the sight of you sprawled out beneath him, dick growing harder by the second. "So fucking pretty..." his hair falls into his eyes and you wipe them away only to reach behind his neck and pull him back in for another kiss. He kisses you sloppily, tongue deep in your throat.

You can't remember the last time anyone has made you feel this good and Yunho was just getting started.

When he pulls back for air, a string of saliva still connects your lips, you quickly unclasp your bra and throw it to the ground along with your blouse. You look stunning to him and it's taking everything in Yunhos might to take his time with you instead of just pulling his cock out and fucking you stupid.

His long fingers graze the marks he has just left on your neck, before plunging two of them into your mouth. A soft whimper escapes your lips as your tongue swirls around his digits, sucking on them eagerly. Wishing he could take a picture and frame it in his office, Yunho groans at the sight.

His unoccupied hand pushes up your skirt to reveal some laced panties and he gives you a little slap onto your clothed throbbing cunt, which makes you moan out loudly around his fingers.

"Are my fingers not enough to keep you quiet? Maybe I need to stuff your mouth with my cock instead." your moaning earns yourself another slap before he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, circling them around your left nipple.

You watch as he hovers over you, kneeling inbetween your legs. His fingers leave your nipple and without warning he pushes your panties to the side to slide them into your heat. Your saliva as well as your wetness make it way too easy and your lips part to choke out a moan. Yunho grabs your jaw and brings himself close, but instead of kissing you like you anticipated, he spits into your open mouth.

You clench around his fingers in surprise then swallowing all of it, the rest that landed on your bottom lip distributing onto your chin with the help of his thumb. Never in your life did you think you could be so at mercy for a man, but here you are.

Yunho looks like he's about to devour you but your focus is directed at the feeling of his fingers sliding in and out of you, occasionally curling inside.

"More.." you manage to whimper, begging him for more stimulation. His lips turn upwards into a smirk as he adds another finger. You feel something cold enter you and you can tell it's his wedding ring that's pushing you to another level of pleasure.

"Look at my little slut getting off on a married mans fingers.." Yunho coos as he watches your cunt greedily suck in his fingers. Your heavy breathing quiets down as you accomodate to him stretching you out, knowing you need even more.

You bite your still wet bottom lip and look up into his eyes, one hand roaming his body until it stops at his bulge. "I need you inside of me, now."

But Yunho isn't done with you yet.

"What you need, is to have some respect." his fingers come to a complete halt and you whimper at the sudden loss of friction. He pulls them out only to rid you of your skirt and panties, leaving you completely naked on his couch.

Lips come crashing into yours, followed by his hand on your throat, smearing your juices onto you. His hips start rolling into yours, the friction of the fabric against your throbbing clit driving you insane. "I'll fuck you when you deserve to be fucked." he says through gritted teeth, his cock starting to painfully twitch in his tight pants.

Now kneeling over you, he's pulling his shirt over his head. You can't help but stare at his chest in awe, fighting the urge to suck hickeys all over his torso.

Yunho chuckles at your dazed look before grabbing a fistful of your hair to yank your head up, now eye leveling his crotch. "Suck me off and I might consider fucking you." Having no time to waste your hands are pulling down his zipper and freeing his cock from his underwear. You let out a long breath as you finally hold his dick in your hands, so long and girthy you start worrying if you can even fit the head in your mouth.

Precum is leaking from his slit and you hesitantly give the tip kitten licks before pushing it into your mouth. Yunho lets out a soft sigh, relishing in the feeling of your warm cheeks embracing him.

You test the waters by slowly pushing him in further, only to halt abruptly when you start choking on him.

"Who said you could stop?" His hand flies to your head to push you down on his length, tears filling up your eyes as you try to breathe. Your hands grip onto his thighs to steady yourself, not being able to get in more than half of his cock.

Slowly his hips start moving and you have to do nothing but stay still and be his little fuckdoll. His moans grow louder each time he thrusts himself into you, the sound being your new favorite melody. You're sure that by now there must be stains on his couch from the way your wetness keeps pooling in your heat.

One of your hands sneaks down to rub small circles over your clit, which leads you to ellicit a small moan, dick still stuffed deep in your throat. He pulls out of you, only to let his fat cock slap against your cheek.

"I don't remember giving you permission to touch yourself." He frowns before stealing your air supply again, now bucking his hips into your face with even more fervor than before.

You whine out and grab onto the couch. Your jaw is starting to hurt and you know you can't keep this up much longer. You knew he was packing, having stolen glances at his crotch over the past weeks, but you didn't expect him to be this big.

When his hips finally start to stutter, you're already so fucked out, saliva dripping down your chin onto your breasts.

Your eyes are halfway closed as tears roll down your cheeks, Yunho being all you could feel, smell or see.

He comes to a complete halt, shooting his load down your throat, letting out a deep moan. "F-fuck." You feel the bitterness spread in your mouth and quickly swallow down the warm liquid. His eyes are fixed on your beautiful face and the way you're taking everything so well. When he pulls his softening cock out of your mouth, he strokes your hair, gently lowering you onto your back.

"So?" you ask him, hands grazing over his nicely toned muscles.

"So what?" Yunho asks back with a confused smile on his lips.

"Do I deserve getting fucked?"

He's trapping you in between his arms and the couch, eyes never leaving yours.

"You deserve getting ruined." his lips meet yours again, licking off the remains of his own cum. Slowly he's peppering kisses all over your neck, moving down to your chest, slightly grazing one nipple with his teeth. Yunho starts sucking on the hard bud when you let out little whimpers, hands laid on his strong arms, that are still caging you. Excitement rushes through your veins at the mere thought of Yunho touching you again and you almost start trembling from the anticipation.

His tongue swirls around your nipple a few times before leaving your breasts altogether as he moves further down. Face hovering over your pussy, you prop yourself on your elbows to have a better view.

You just need to witness this.

His face gets closer to you until you can feel his hot breath on your core, only turning you on further.

"Such a pretty cunt." he whispers before placing a few gentle kisses on your clit. You inhale a sharp breath of air when he finally buries his face into your pussy, tongue delving deep into your folds.

One of his hands rakes up to grope your breast, roughly massaging it. You close your eyes for a moment and get lost in the feeling of his wet tongue inside of you and his big hand assaulting your tit.

As your moans grow louder, Yunho stops for a minute to mark you up on your inner thigh. "If you keep this up, everyone is going to hear us." he kisses down gently on the now red-ish skin. "But maybe that's what you want? To have Mr. Kim hear how I rearrange your guts?" His eyes dart up to meet yours and there's a mischievous smile plastered on his lips.

You could tell he was hung up on the fact you were close to a male colleague of yours, but you didn't want to think about Mr. Kim now. Not in this situation.

"I'll try to be quiet..." you mumble, blushed cheeks from the suggestion. Quickly you grab his wrist, guiding the hand that was massaging your breast, up to your mouth sucking in his fingers, to cut the conversation short. Yunho just chuckles softly before lapping at your hole again, eyes closed while getting enveloped in the taste of you. His nose bumps into your clit at times and it's getting harder for you to hold back your moans.

It's taking all your might to stay quiet when he plunges the three fingers, that you were lazily sucking on just a moment ago, into you while relentlessly flicking his tongue against your sensitive nub.

His long slender fingers glide right into your heat while stretching you out deliciously. If this is how his fingers feel you can barely contain your greediness for his huge cock.

Head thrown back in pleasure, your hips start bucking into him while your hand is tangled in his hair. Breathy moans leave your lips when the pace of his fingers quickens and the knot in your stomach gets tighter. Yunho is sucking and licking on your clit like his life depends on it and you can feel yourself clench around his fingers. "I-im so close.." you huff out, still rolling your hips into his tongue.

"That's it.. cum on my face, baby." the vibrations and especially the use of the petname sends you over the edge and you come undone, legs squeezing around Yunhos head.

You pant heavily, arm covering your face as you recover from your high. Yunho is lapping up your juices, fingers still moving in and out of you. You whine out, pushing his head away from the overstimulation.

"S-stop I can't-"

He chuckles before finally removing his fingers from your cunt, licking them clean. His lips are glistening from your wetness as he emerges from inbetween your legs and you can't believe this god of a man just ate you out, with all that he had at that.

"God, you taste so sweet."

He sits up, quickly getting rid of his pants, then stroking his now hard again dick. Grabbing the base of his cock, he rubs it against your core, covering his cockhead in your cum. You moan at the stimulation, clit swollen and abused. You can't pry your eyes off the attractive nude body gracing your sight and it leaves him chuckling at the way you're looking up at him with needy eyes, begging to be fucked senseless.

"Are you sure you want this?" Yunho asks you one last time, needing to reassure himself, even when he already knows the answer.

It makes you scoff, furrowing your eyebrows. Like he didn't just have you at his mercy on only his tongue and fingers, eating you out like a starved man. His skin is glistening with sweat from the arousal and heat between you two, only showing off his defined muscles more. The naked man in front of you looks like a deity, almost like he's the god of sex.

You could swear you've never gotten this horny just by looking at someone.

"I need this." you reply while grabbing one of Yunhos hands to intertwine your fingers with his. He smiles warmly at you before pinning down your hand next to your head and slowly pushing his tip into you, tightly holding your hand.

Soft moans leave your lips as you're getting stretched out by his girthy cock, the feeling of his length inside of you bringing you almost to tears, because it just feels that good. Eyebrows furrowed, enveloped in the feeling of him as he bottoms out in you.

Your cum makes it a little too easy for Yunho to slide in and he lets out a deep moan when he's fully sheathed inside of you.

"Shit, your pussy feels so good.." he murmurs and places a wet kiss upon your left temple.

Your eyes flutter open to take in the image of him hovering over you while getting spread on his thick cock. The stretch feels so good it has you loudly moaning even when he hasn't started moving yet. "You're too fucking big." you groan, eyes tightly shut again. He let's you get used to his size for a couple of seconds before starting to move.

"You say 'too big' but look at how your pussy is sucking me in - just fitting for the greedy whore your are." slapping your tit, he watches in contentment as it jiggles.

Quickly he's building up his pace, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Soon Yunho is smashing his hips into yours, hand having let go to properly hold himself up. You let out uncontrollable moans while digging your nails into his forearm, resulting in one of Yunhos hands covering your mouth.

"My dumb little slut.. wants everyone to hear how I'm fucking that tight little pussy so well, hm?" he taunts you, lips curled upwards into a smirk. You clench around him at his words, letting out a muffled moan against his hand. But you can tell he's feeling just as good as well, voice breathy, sometimes letting a moan slip inbetween.

You're feeling so good you don't care anymore wether someone is going to hear you, all you care about is his big dick stuffed in your cunt. When his hand leaves your mouth to roughly grab one of your tits, your head immediately tilts downwards to see how his cock is disappearing in your pussy.

The drag against your walls feels insane and you just feel so full, you're scared you will never be able to have sex with someone else.

"Y-Yunho.." you moan out his name as your climax keeps building, head thrown back in pleasure.

"What is it baby?" you love how Yunho calls you baby and it has you tightening around him, making his hips stutter for a hot second. "Fuck, don't do that again or I'm cumming inside of you." his lips come crashing into you while still rutting his hips into yours at such a fast pace, you almost feel like he's splitting you into two.

Pinching your nipple one last time he sits up to firmly grab your waist and thrust into you. "I'm gonna cum!" you cry out, hips bucking into his, but he immediately stops, the rising feeling in your stomach vanishing.

You can imagine yourself getting addicted to the way he's thrusting into you, because now that he's stopped you feel the urge to cry, as if getting down from your favorite drug.

And it's quite the same. His dick is taking you to levels of pleasure you couldn't even think of before, making you not wanting to waste thoughts about what's going to happen when he's done with you.

And luckily Yunho is far from done with you.

"I decide when you cum." he slips his cock out of you to slap it against your clit before sliding it through your folds. "My greedy little whore." he whispers, while you're trying to restrain yourself from grabbing his dick and just shoving it into yourself.

You feel so pathetic at how he's making you feel so good just by rubbing his lengtg against you, but when he doesn't stop teasing you, it drives you insane. "P-please."

"Please what?" slowly he dips his cockhead into your pussy, fucking you with only an inch of his dick. "Use your words. How else is a dumb slut like you gonna get a promotion?"

You didn't know you had a degrading kink but Yunho sure as hell brought it out in you.

"God you get tighter everytime I insult you." he scoffs with a smile, eyes locked onto his tip inside of you.

"Please fuck me properly.." you whine, hips trying to push yourself further onto his cock. Yunho chuckles at your poor attempts before yanking both of your legs up to gather them over one shoulder, gripping them firmly and unexpectedly thrusting deep into you. He has completely buried himself into you, your mouth agape from the feeling. His lips are softly grazing the skin on your legs, while you're letting out obscene noises. The way he's slowly rolling his hips into yours is making you lose your mind and you wish he'd just fuck you for all eternity.

As he keeps thrusting into you, his huge cock is hitting your bladder and slowly it's getting uncomfortable, because it feels like you need to pee, eventhough you're already aware you don't. Yunho is starting to fold you in half, legs that were draped over his shoulder now pushed into your face as he's using your wet hole like his cocksleeve.

The squelching sounds are making Yunho emmit deep groans, eyes not being able to look away from his pulsing cock drilling into you. One of your arms is holding onto the couchrest behind your head to somewhat find stability and Yunho leans down to sloppily kiss you while folding you like a sandwich.

The angle makes you cum without a warning and you moan out loudly into his mouth to muffle the volume of the forbidden sounds. Your walls are clenching around him hard, wetness seeping onto his cock.

He halts abruptly in his movements, pulling away from you. A short string of spit connects your lips until it plops down onto your chest. Yunho is panting hard and it seems like he just held back from cumming inside of you, much to your disappointment.

"Fuck, I didn't tell you to cum." he pulls out of you, immediately grabbing a fistful of your hair to yank you up and pull you towards his desk. "Is my bitch wanting to be punished?" he asks in a daring tone, eager for what's to come.

His big hand is pressing down your cheek against the cold wood of his desk, bending you over. Heart beating fast, you don't resist and just go along with what he's making you do. Right now you'd do anything he requested of you if it meant getting fucked properly. His other hand lines up his dick with your entrance and with a sharp thrust he pushes his cock past your folds, earning a loud whimper from you. Your voice is too fucked up to be forming proper words, so only pathetic moans and a variable of other noises leave your mouth.

Not even recovered from your high he's fucking you so hard your hips are rutting into the desks edges, sure to leave behind bruise marks. "That's what you get for disobeying me." he groans and you love how he's putting on this dom show, your overstimulated pussy tightening at the thought of him punishing you right now. "How can you still be this fucking tight when I'm stretching you to my size?" Yunho buries his face into your neck, sucking hickeys into the soft skin to distract himself from not hitting his release too early. He was set on making you cum at least a third time.

"D-don't give me so many hickeys.. what if someone sees..?" you manage to whimper out. Fuck, leaving his office later, looking like a mess and pumped full of his cum already has you shivering at the thought. There's no way no one's going to notice, especially when he's leaving kiss marks all over your neck now.

"Then they'll know you belong to me."

You moan as he slows down his thrusts, pulling your asscheeks apart to have even better access to your throbbing hole. A string of saliva drops down onto your ass and you immediately panic when you feel Yunhos thumb press against your back door. "Wait, d-don't!" you cry out as he slips his finger past the ring of muscles, clenching around him hard. He groans, finger slowly moving but hips staying still.

"You're gonna snap my dick in half, relax." thumb still inside, he leans down and turns your head to the side to capture your lips in a kiss. Your hands are gripping some sheets of paper that are scattered beneath you as he starts thrusting into you again, balls slapping against your buttocks.

"F-feels so good Mr. Jeong." mind so hazy that you don't even notice you go back to calling Yunho by his last name. A low chuckle leaves his lips before he suddenly moves around a bit, making you try to turn around and see what he's doing.

"Is that so? Then why don't you tell Mr. Kim about it?" You hear a clicking noise and the next second Yunho places his office phone next to you and turns on the intercom. The unfamiliar feeling of having both holes filled have you pant loudly, barely shutting up in time for the call.

Hongjoong is way too quick to pick up the phone, which leaves you no time to brace yourself. Your eyes widen and you try to get Yunho to stop from fucking you so hard, the very obvious noises probably easily heard through the phone. "Good evening sir. How may I help you?" your colleagues voice politely appears through the receiver, seemingly not yet suspicious of the sounds coming from the other end.

"Go on. Tell him how good my dick inside you feels. Let him hear that dirty little pussy of yours." Yunho whispers into your ear, only for you to hear.

"Hello? Mr. Jeong?" Hongjoong quietly asks into the phone. Finally Yunho pulls out of you, letting you breathe for a second. When you feel his hand grabbing your ass forcefully you know you have to play along. "Hello Mr. Kim, it's me."

"Oh? Ms. y/s? Why are you calling me from Mr. Jeongs office?" he sounds very confused, which makes it harder for you to come up with a believable excuse. Even more so when Yunho suddenly turns you onto your back and forces you to sit up with his hand on your throat. A helpless little yelp leaves your lips and you immediately shut your mouth, hoping your colleague heard nothing.

"..."

"Is everything okay?"

Right now you can only applaud Hongjoong for his polite- and patientness, as you're sure you would've been annoyed as hell by now if you were in his shoes. "Sorry I just dropped something." you manage to say, gears in your head turning on what to tell him next.

"So uhm... I called you.. because... I need help with a document..?" it sounds more like a question the way the words are leaving your mouth and you're sure you don't sound believable at all.

"Okay.. what is it?" no further questions are asked and you just know he'll give you hell later for this awkward phone call.

"I uh-"

Suddenly Yunho plunges his dick back into you and you have to hold yourself upright on his shoulders. Lips tightly shut you shake your head and look at him with pleading eyes to stop. But he doesn't let up.

"I-I think there's a m-mistake in the formatting of one of t-the project files, but I can't seem to f-find it." it's taking all of your strength not to moan or let out any other noise and you feel like Yunho isn't as strong as he's acting either.

His face is buried in the nook of your neck, sucking more marks onto your skin. Sometimes a little whimper slips out, quiet enough for Mr. Kim not to hear. He must be insane, you think to yourself, to be risking getting caught. Maybe he's even into this, maybe he wants to get caught.

Caged in one of Yunhos arms, the other is placed right behind you, holding himself stable while he's jerking his hips into yours, coating his cock in your wetness. "So good for me..." he whispers, sending a tingle up your spine. "I can't believe I haven't fucked you earlier."

"Alright, can you send me the file now? I'll look over it while you're on the phone." Hongjoongs voice snaps you back to reality and your mind is racing, thinking of the next excuse to give. "My computer is broken." is all you can think of.

"Is that why you're in Mr. Jeongs office?"

You feel relieved when Hongjoong thinks even further than you, finding a way to make this lie work. Though it makes no sense in your head, you gladly accept it.

"Yes, she is. But I think it would be more efficient if you just came down to my office Mr. Kim." Yunho cuts right through you when you open your mouth and you look at him in terror. Is he seriously inviting Mr. Kim to come over right now?

"No! I'll come to you! Don't come here!" You almost yell out, slamming the phone onto the charging station. "How am I going to explain this? You're insane." instantly you let out a loud moan, closing your eyes and letting yourself get enveloped in the feeling of pleasure. Your legs are slung around Yunhos waist, slowly starting to hurt from having to hold them up in the air as he's fucking you on the edge of his desk.

"I'm insane for you." Yunhos lips brush your earlobe before slightly nibbling on it, his moans starting to get louder too. You can feel your inner thighs getting coated with your slick everytime he pulls out just to slam back into you, the sheets of paper you're sitting on probably already completely ruined.

Fast and surely you can feel your third orgasm building up, hips starting to rock against his to get some more friction. He captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth. He's so big it almost feels like his cock is hitting the entrance of your cervix, you can swear you see the outline of his bulge in your stomach. "So fucking big.. I can't." you cry out, head thrown back in pleasure.

"Mr. Jeong let me cum, please?" you automatically ask him for permission, leaving him moaning into your ear.

"Only because you've been so good for me." he tilts your chin up to press a surprisingly soft kiss to your lips before picking up his already fast pace, one of his arms locked around your waist. He's hitting just that right spot several times and you have no strength in you to form any coherent words, a string of moans and other obscene noises accompanying the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Your wetness keeps gushing out and is coating his cock in your liquid, having him groan at the feeling. Just the way he's moaning so deliciously into your ear almost has you cumming and you know you won't be holding out for much longer. Arms thrown around his neck you come undone, your orgasm washing over you so intensely, you see your vision go blurry.

It's taking everything and more for Yunho not to spill his load in an instant when he feels you orgasm around him and slows down his movement for a second. "Where do you want me to cum?" he asks breathless, gazing at your face contorted in pleasure, only hurrying him more.

"I-I don't care just fuck me." you cry out, rocking your hips desperately against his. Your words take him over the edge immediately, hips stuttering while he's driving himself into you. Legs sqeezed tightly around his waist you feel the spurts of long thick ropes of cum painting your walls. The joined moans of the both of you sound like they're straight out of porn, neither caring for the volume anymore. Your high lasts so long, you think you might just pass out from this incredible feeling, the waves of pleasure seemingly not coming to an end. And you wish they didn't because oh god was this the best sex you ever had.

In the meanwhile your pussy is milking Yunho completely dry, his cock twitching inside of you before he eventually starts growing soft. He stays sheathed in you, just heavily breathing into your neck with his head laid on your shoulder.

As the both of you come down from each high, reality hits you like post nut clarity and you get this heavy feeling in your chest over what you have just done.

"Mr. Jeong. This was so insanely wrong of us." you murmur quietly, your heartbeat going up again, this time out of fear. It's not exactly what anyone wants to hear after fucking their brains out.

He lifts his head in confusion, looking at you surprisedly. "If you think I'll be favouring you in the selec-"

"No- not that. I don't really care about the work part. At least for now." you frown at him, urging him to get some distance between the two of you. His arm is slung around your waist still and face only a couple inches apart. "I'm talking about your... marriage."

But Yunho doesn't bother letting go of you, the corners of his mouth curling up into a soft smile. "The marriage with my ex-wife that I have been divorced from for over two years?"

The look of disbelief forms on your face as you try to get in your head what he just said.

"What are you talking about? Then what about your wedding ring? You're still wearing it." it makes no sense to you, especially when you saw them at a work gathering weeks prior. Does he think you'd fall for such a pathetic lie?

"That's because we haven't made the divorce public. It was a marriage of convenience and while our families know we aren't together anymore, which we technically never were, no one else does, except for a few higher ups." He finally pulls out of you, watching his own cum slowly flow out of you and keeping your thighs spread.

"C-can you not do this while we're talking?" you blush from his boldness but don't resist his hands that are now wandering up your body.

Blatantly ignoring you, he goes on with the explanation. "It's better if rival corporate businesses don't know our two family firms aren't binded by law anymore." His hand is cupping your breast, thumb softly rubbing your nipple.

"So you're trying to tell me the two of you act like you're still married, but you've been divorced for two years already?"

There's a big chance he's just lying to get out of this situation, but you sincerely hope he's not making all of this up. Yunho seems to notice your suspicion and leans forward to capture your lips in the softest kiss.

"You don't believe me do you?"

He whispers, burying his face in your neck. "I'm not sure if I should." a heavy sigh leaves your lips as your hand reaches up to comb through his hair. "I want to, though."

You can feel him smile into your neck, before lifting his head and pulling you in for yet another kiss. "I'll take you home tonight," he mumbles against you, "to my house I mean. And you'll see there won't be no wife waiting for me."

Warmth fills your body at his words, coming to terms with the fact he might just not be lying at all. Spending the night at Yunhos place wasn't exactly what your to do list included for today, but your heart starts racing regardless, thinking of all the things he could do to you later. "If you say so.." a small giggle escapes you, leaning into his touch more.

"Should I get plan B for you?" Yunho asks out of the blue, while looking down at the mess he made. You're surprised at how considerate he is, not quite expecting him to even care. Though it should be common decency of course. "It's okay, I've got an IUD in." you smile at him softly, pressing a peck onto his cheek, before retracting awkwardly. It feels like you've overstepped the boundaries, boundaries which you yet have to talk about.

"Are we weirdly loving right now?" the atmosphere is somewhat heavy and you try to lighten the mood. Yunho gives you a cheeky grin, hand that was cupping your breast moving back down again. "I don't know about that. But I do love your body." he tries to sneak his finger to your clit but you slap his hand away before he is able to. As the both of your are laughing, your eyes fall onto an object that is standing on Yunhos desk, and something seems off to you. After closer inspection, you fall silent and your eyes widen in horror.

"Mr. Jeong..."

"I think we're past the stage of calling each other by our last names, don't you think?" he chuckles at you, not noticing how distraught you are. When he finally does, his gaze follows yours, soon the shock is written all over his face as well.

Earlier you didn't put the phone correctly onto the charging station.

Which means you never hung up.

A/n; i'm actually so insane for yunho...🥹🥹 this fic sucked the life outta me. can't believe my second fic on this acc is such a lengthy one. hope you enjoyed it!!

#yunho smut #ateez smut #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez

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sttm99 · 1 year ago

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PART 2 of Bakugo falling for a 'popular' girl

Bakugo likes to think he's fine with all the boys that are constantly vying for your attention. Mostly because he assumed their desperation would reduce now that you'd been seen more frequently around him.

It didn't. It only got worse, because now getting a date with you didn't seem like some far-fetched dream. It was attainable.

'If Bakugo could do it, why couldn't they?'

The blonde boy almost punched someone for saying that in the hallway.

And now he was becoming paranoid. You guys weren't dating. Sure, you'd gone on, like, three dates. And you let him sit next to you during lunch, and let him walk you to your classes. But there was no sort of exclusivity between you two. You could still go on other dates with other guys. You could still flirt.

He even assumed that was what you were doing now, as he sat in the cafeteria with Kirishima and the others, watching you intently as you conversed with some boy in your class. He was way too close to you, way too smiley, way too flirty.

"Dude, stare any harder and you're gonna burn holes in the back of his head." Kirishima said, pushing at Bakugo's shoulders.

"Yeah dude," Kaminari joined in. "She's not talking to anyone else. Calm down a bit."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes and still watching. You leaned closer to the boy, your hands coming forward to touch the boy's hair. And it was too affectionate, you were smiling too much, your body language too soft.

And before he knew it, Bakugo was harshly pushing his seat back and stalking out of the cafeteria despite his friends' calls.

"Seriously?" You scoffed as you looked down at him sitting on the stairs, your arms folded over your chest. "Kaminari said you stormed out cause I was flirting with someone else."

Bakugo rolled his eyes, his arms tensing as he made a mental note to kill Kaminari later. "He's an idiot. Don't believe shit he says."

You rolled your eyes. "So why did you walk out like that? There were practically sparks flying out your hands."

"What? Keeping tabs on me now? I can't just leave a place when I want to?" It came out harsher than he intended. And he was immediately looking up at you and stuttering, backtracking, trying to rectify it.

"You're being insecure and jealous," you spat out at him before he could take back his words. "Don't take it out on me. We're not gonna do that, you hear me?"

He sighed out, frowning. "Yeah... I'm sorry." He mumbled, his head hung.

"And besides," you took a seat next to him, your thighs even touching. "I'm not interested in him."

"So why were you touching him like that?"

"I touch you like that, don't I?" You chuckled.

Bakugo whipped his head around, eyes locked on you. "Are you trying to say you're not interested in me?"

His shock and frustration made you laugh, leaning forward and holding your sides. "I'm joking. I'm joking, Bakugo."

He hummed, allowing a calm silence fall over you two.

"So..." He mumbled. "You're gonna keep- you're gonna continue flirting with other boys like that? Playing around?"

You shrugged. "I'm not taken, am I?"

"But-" He let out a sharp breath. "I just- I don't want you to... I want us to be-"

"To be exclusive?" You completed, looking at him. "You want us to be together? To date."

He nodded after a while, slowly, tentatively. "Yeah."

You paused, still looking at him. "I think we should get to know each other a bit more, as friends."

His face fell, and you quickly took note of that.

"I don't mean I'm friendzoning you, Bakugo." You chuckled. "I just mean that we should attain a certain level of friendship before dating. I'm obviously not interested in being just friends with you."

He hummed and nodded, his cheeks turning a faint pink. And then he began shifting a bit closer, turning his upper body so he was facing you a bit more.

"What about being exclusive? I don't want others thinking they have a chance." He said firmly.

And you smiled. "Nobody else has a chance with me. Just you."

"So this means you're mine?" He asked, his voice several octaves lower, head leaning into yours and eyes focused on your lips.

"Yeah. 'M all yours," you mumbled right before he kissed you.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha bakugou #bakugo fluff

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writermani4c · 3 months ago

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Wise Man - Willard Russel x Reader

@pizgif

Summary: He waited for her for a long time, but she was much better than his fantasies. A wise man knows when he has found his wife.

Warnings: English is not my first language. Not the second or third, I'm sorry. I'm just a Brazilian woman with Bill Skarsgard fever who likes to write to relieve tension. I hope you like it and that the BIG mistakes don't bother you while reading. With love, me.

It's romantic, kind of fluffy (if you like men who are madly in love) and with a slight spice of obscenity. Carefully follow along.

She smelled like lilies when she walked into the cereal aisle.

Every man prepares for that moment. The moment when your life will be turned upside down, all because of a peculiar smell that makes you turn your neck without any concern other than finding its source, then you come face to face with a woman. Your girlfriend, your wife, the mother of your children, the warm hand on your shoulder after a dog day, the smell of lilies on the pillow on the other side of the bed, the soft voice that will say “honey, is that you?” when you get home or “why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” in the morning.

Willard was waiting for her. Even though he didn't like to admit it out loud, he hoped there was someone like that in that strange, inhospitable hole in the world. And when she turned the corner, holding a bag of flour and some eggs, smelling of lilies, with dirt-stained fingernails and a yellow dress that had seen better springs, he knew that this would be his wife.

She looked up only subtly, acknowledging his presence because he was tall enough to block the view of some items on the small shelf, but not tall enough to notice that he was losing his breath at her handsome face.

Beautiful eyes.

Her eyes burned into a particular corner of his brain, coming into his dreams like two headlights. Willard never liked sleeping, seeing it as necessary as eating and pissing, but much more boring. He slept and felt paranoid about being so vulnerable. But when he started dreaming about her eyes, sleep became a pleasant escape.

Small town, people talk. They said that her father had left early, so it was just the mother and daughter in a house falling apart. The mother was sick and the daughter took care of keeping them alive and fed, took care of the family garden and sold flowers to the local flower shop, also repaired worn-out clothes and cleaned some houses. Willard brought shirts and she took them like treasures, pressing them to her chest before thanking him for thinking of her for the service. She didn't know that he himself cut some holes in his shirts and stopped buying some items for the house to have an excuse to see her. It was worth it when your shirts came back sewn and smelling of fresh earth, tulips and daisies.

Someone needed to take care of her. Someone needed to keep her warm at night and scare away the strangers who followed in her footsteps when she make your purchases.

Most of them started to cower when she started waving at Willard when she saw him on the street. He almost chickened out himself, thinking about what chance she had of seeing him with some affection, and took a while to return the wave, which gave her the confidence to do so more often.

'Good morning, Mr. Russel' and ‘Good afternoon, Mr. Russel’, always with a sweet voice and a small smile at the corner of his mouth, that corner that made him want to lean over her, hold her face and run his index finger across her lips, because they were beautiful, they looked soft and smooth. He told her to cut the formalities, but she always called him that, changing to her first name only when he went to her house with clothes to mend.

─ You have a lot of clothes to sew." She smiled and Willard thought she might know.

She was beautiful in a disconcerting way. She had that face that made the day seem less depressing, with a smart smile and sparkling eyes, and that body that made him wish ─ and then feel even slightly guilty for letting his thoughts go so far ─ that he could travel with his mouth, kissing her curves. as he breathed in the scent she must have had beneath her clothes, that skin as smooth as silk at his mercy. She wasn't stupid, though.

─ It's as if termites do their damage whenever I take my eyes off them. Sorry for bringing you so much trouble.

─ No, you don't need to apologize for that. But you spend a lot of money on me.

─ It's money well spent.

─ I… ─ She breathed in, batting her eyelashes as a gentle rebuke to whatever was in her brain. Without meaning to, Willard took a step forward. Don't beat yourself up, my blossom, that's what she wanted to say, but she stopped herself from taking that step inside the screened-in porch of her house. ─ You…

─ Willard.

─ Willard. ─ He waved with a resigned smile. ─ I don't want to be rude.

─ Please be. Be rude all you want, I won't care.

─ Do you want to stay for dinner?

His heart became a nearly dead muscle beneath her words, only to start beating full force again, skipping beats like a runner in a marathon. He couldn't believe it. A huge smile spread across his face. It would be the first time she invited him in. This gave him hope. He gave him a duty.

─ I want it.

Once inside her personal space, the place where she lived, he felt enveloped to the core, because the entire house smelled like her. Soft earth and flowers.

Her couch was warmer and more comfortable. The table at home, although small, was warmer and the chairs were comfortable. The smell of his food made him feel a dormant, wild hunger, something that was more inside his head than his stomach, roaring and digging with sharp nails into his flesh. He went to the bathroom, with the window facing the backyard. A small window, but one he could sneak through, and he left it open from the inside.

That night, he had dinner with his future wife and her mother, a lady so laughing and talkative that she filled him with questions full of ulterior motives.

If he was married, which he gladly answered no, looking at the flush-cheeked girl at the other end of the table. If he intended to get married, he said yes. What he worked with, whether he drank, whether he was baptized, whether he was up to date with his church obligations. Willard maintained a helpful smile because he knew she heard all his answers and, somewhere, evaluated everything he said.

Later, when they said goodbye, she walked him to the door.

─ Thank you for staying. We don't receive many visitors.

─ Thank you for dinner. No one has cooked for me for a long time.

─ You can come when you want to be questioned over a plate of food.

Under the yellow light of the screen porch, the world seemed very small and very simple. There was nothing but him and that woman. Nothing but the way she looked at him, her face lifted to meet his eyes, and the way she breathed, how she filled her lungs all at once and emptied them more slowly. Her cheeks were warmer in the yellow light, the glow in her eyes was like the gravitational force making him yield to her, and the flutter of those eyelashes stirred Willard's heart once again.

He waited for her, but he couldn't believe that reality could be so good.

His right hand touched hers, gentle but lewd, and he leaned in, consuming the air between them, to kiss her left cheek.

He didn't apologize or look back before walking through the balcony door, hearing the thud as it closed behind him. He walked through the garden and disappeared into the darkness, but he didn't go away. He watched her touch her cheek with her fingertips and take a deep breath, then a smile spread across her face.

Every night for two months, he climbed in through that bathroom window in the middle of the night and walked silently around the house. He touched the notes she signed by hand, her grocery list or some reminder on the refrigerator door, ran his fingers through the clothes on the line at the back of the house and went through her things. He defiled her space because he felt a certain comfort in it, in walking through the house and pushing open her bedroom door, watching her sleep peacefully in the narrow bed. She looked peaceful and carefree, as she should be. She looked fragile, small (and that had nothing to do with her height) and defenseless against all the dangers of that land, a little sparrow that he wanted to hold in his hands and keep, because flying around would get him into trouble.

Every time he was invited to dinner, which started to happen more and more frequently, he allowed himself to leave a kiss as a farewell.

A kiss on the cheek, on the back of her hands, on her knuckles, on her forehead. It was like a small dose from a bottle that he hoped he could take a bigger swig of. Holding her face and bringing his lips to her temple, breathing in the scent of her hair as he enjoyed the feeling of his own lips on the skin of the one who stole his heart, because he couldn't take her mouth and, by the good Lord, no part underneath that yellow button-down dress.

One night, when he turned his back, she followed him outside.

─ Willard! ─ The urgency made him stop in place, but it took him a while to turn on his heels, finding her outside with him, away from the yellow lights.

Outside, the world was different.

The darkness of the night was infested with dangers and evil men. The world smelled not just of soft earth and flowers, but also of gunpowder and blood, ambition, power and unbridled pleasure, suffering and bitterness, things that didn't feel like her but were familiar to him. She came after Willard and he waited for her because she was too small to be alone. She didn't need to be alone. Never again.

─ What was it?

─ I don't know.

─ Yes, you know. ─ She needed to know, because the wait wasn't just exciting. It was heartbreaking too. Each night watching her from afar, unable to run his nose along the delicate curve of her neck or cover her when she moved in her sleep and made the blanket slide, slipping away to reveal a pair of breasts covered only by a soft nightgown. The things he did to himself imagining having those breasts in his mouth... ─ It's dark out here. Whatever you say will remain in the dark.

─ What if it’s bad?

─ Nothing good is said in the dark, my dear, that's why we only talked alone on your balcony.

She nodded.

She was barefoot. Most of the time, she stayed barefoot inside the house, limiting herself to wearing lace-up boots over socks when she needed to go into town.

─ I want to be your darling.

─ You are. Always has been, ever since I laid eyes on you.

─ No, not like that. I want to be more than I am now. ─ She took a deep breath. ─ I want you to come and have dinner here every day and not have to pay for me to fix your clothes, because it gives me great pleasure to do so. I don't want you to have to leave after you kiss me.

─ Be my wife then, darling.

That time, she was the one who held his hand. Her fingers were smaller than his, knotted from working with the earth and sewing threads, and that only made her more perfect. She intertwined her fingers with his and leaned forward on the tips of her toes, seeking him with that warm, inviting mouth, her breathing quickened beneath her dress.

Willard married her twice.

The second time was in the church where she was baptized, with God's blessing. He gave her a white dress and a veil, only to move it away from her face and kiss her when the priest gave him permission. Few people went to the ceremony and neither of them cared, they didn't have a party, they just went home and he carried her to bed.

The first time, however, was in the dark, outside the house. And it smelled like soft earth and lilies.

Willard married his wife the moment he lay on top of her, hearing her soft giggle as she hugged his waist with her legs, squeezing her thighs around him as the tip of his cock entered the folds of that tight, wet-as-hell pussy. heaven should be. He wanted to give her a good bed, but they didn't need that while they were numb with passion, their lips locked in a kiss full of voluptuousness and promises.

You'll never be alone again, he promised as he ran his fingers over her face, removing the strands of hair stuck to her sweaty skin, hitting that pussy.

You'll never be afraid, he gasped, because she was holding him tight and moaning against his neck, trying to contain herself. I didn't want her to have to hold back those sly, tearful, sweet sounds, but I didn't want her mother to suspect that he was between her only daughter's legs, so she whispered, between smiles, so that she would make less noise, and she would also smile, but he couldn't contain himself.

You'll never have to worry about anything in the world, he slid his hand between their bodies, while he felt his dick invading her, and he slid his finger over her folds, on that pulsing beam. He rubbed it just for pleasure and indulgence, watching her squirm, biting her right hand to keep still, as beautiful and ethereal as angels must be. Then he brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting her on his tongue.

Every day and every night, my blossom, I will be the devil that guards you, her taste was like the best of drinks and the best of drugs. An addiction he would maintain with devotion.

She ran her fingers through his hair, tugging as her walls clenched so tight it was unbearable. He let her cum, kissing her neck and collarbone lovingly, running his hands over her soft breasts. Every day and every night, you will be loved like a goddess and a slut, my blossom, because you are mine.

#bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard fanfiction #willard russell #willard russel x reader #the devil all the time #x reader #fluff and smut

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thegnomelord · 1 year ago

Text

CH 1: With a Spark It Starts Just Like It Ended

CW: NSFW Blood, gore, cannon typical violence, M reader but can be read as GN, Mage reader, Monster 141 AU, reader is described as having thick fucked up arms.

AO3 3.7k words, more of an intro to what's to come lol.

Old man Abdul had lived a good life. A harsh one. But a good one.

He was amongst the first to grab a gun and raise the fight against the Russians, risking life and limb for the freedom of Urzikstan even as members of his pack bled and died to artillery fire and noxious gas. And he alone had survived to see his country set free of tyranny and chose to stay in the military long after his hair had greyed.

And how was he rewarded for his service?

With a 'promotion' to guard the basement of a conference hall. They even called it the 'Peace House' as if that made his position grander, though in his humble opinion the only peaceful thing happening within the halls above was the lack of physical violence.

"Hey, did you fall asleep on me old man?" Taim, a bright eyed and gap-toothed human private so young he could've been one of his grandsons, asks as he throws down five playing cards on the floor between them. Royal flush, again.

Old man Abdul's eyes are soft with a glare and he throws down his own cards, already knowing he'd lost. "Go fish." He huffs, leaning back into the chair they'd been able to squirrel away.

It was embarrassing to think that boredom could torture him more than the Russians did, but they were only a few hours into their shift and he was already thinking of biting a bullet. Chances were they'd stay down here long after the diplomats up top finished bickering about who knows what...

"Hey," Taim perks up, and from the few weeks he's known him, Abdul knows the glint in his brown eyes heralds something stupid. "How about whoever loses this round takes a shot from your leg?"

He is proven correct.

"How about I throw you into a minefield so we can match?" Old man Abdul responds, his tail wagging from side to side. His tail looks more at home on a rat than any werewolf, the fur there an accidental casualty of a Russian fire mage's spell that had taken his leg off. The prosthetic leg only fitting on his human body isn't nearly as insulting as the warding totem they'd given him to protect against lethal magic after his leg had gone flying.

Taim gulps and holds his hands up. "There's no need for that sir." He quickly adds, clearing his throat and reaching to the floor to pick up their cards and shuffle them.

Taim's warding totem slips out from beneath his jacket, but it's different from old man Abdul's. Not in appearance, with the same materials every mage will make theirs differently, but in feel. It feels different...wrong.

Eyes narrowing he reaches out and holds the piece of faintly glowing rock between his claws. Heat radiates into his fingers, the magic inside pulsing in a steady even thrum like a machine instead of beating like a heartbeat; like something not quite alive.

Abdul had been in combat long enough to know how good a warding totem is with how his body reacts to it.

The shit one he'd been given barely gets the remaining fur on his tail to bristle.

Taim's makes his skin want to melt off.

"Where did you get this?" Abdul asks, tail curling up as he lets go of the totem with disgust clear on his face. "That rock could probably protect you from L3 mage without cracking, maybe even L4." Call him paranoid, but a private getting a totem to protect him from mages rarer than unicorns doesn't make any sense.

"Oh, that-" The young man clears his throat, the totem laying flat against his chest like an insult to life. "Came from up top a few days ago, guess all those terror attacks spooked command and they want to keep us normal people safe." He realizes his words and quickly adds. "-not that I'm calling you not normal or anything sir, it's just that-"

"-You're squishier than me, yes, I know." Old man Abdul rolls his eyes, leaning back into his chair with a huff.

Taim gives a nervous little giggle, scratching at his curly dark hair. "No offence sir. It's just...you know."

"We all look out for our kinfolk first." Old man Abdul sighs, going to wave him off.

His pointy ear twitches and immediately he's jumping to his feet when his sensitive hearing picks up the sound of the elevator mechanism running. No one is supposed to come down at this time, and Abdul already has his rifle raised to point at the elevator doors by the time Taim is able to get to his own feet. The old werewolf doesn't even need to say anything for the young man to stand on opposite side of him, they work together well, both guns aimed at the person revealed by the opening elevator doors.

It's just the janitor.

Taim lets out a small breath and lowers his gun, relaxing as the janitor gives them a small greeting both of them have to strain their ears to hear as a face mask muffles their words.

"That was a bit embarrassing." Taim chuckles weakly, nodding his own greeting and taking a step back so the janitor can push the heavy cart past them. Abdul notes the janitor's hands are thick and large, the veins poking out beneath latex gloves. Murky water sloshes inside the mop bucket, the trash bag filled to the brim and budging.

It's just a janitor.

But like an annoying tick on his ass, something doesn't let old man Abdul relax.

There's a buzz in the back of his mind like the one he'd get when he was being watched, and when he catches sight of the janitor's eyes beneath the wide-brimmed cap that buzzing stops; Instead replaced with a flash sense of wrongness in his bones and the feeling of tar inside his heart and an indescribable scent — like stale beer and burnt grass and deep dark rot — it has his fingers moving to the trigger before the sight of magic melting through latex can make the short trip from his eyes to his brain—

Glowing lines spring into thin air to form magic circles before their eyes.

The warding totems shatter.

'Pop' goes a head.

Both bodies drop to the ground.

"Could have told me there was a dog." Your words scrape against your throat like shards of glass from the disuse, melted latex stretching into long strands as you take off the cleaner gloves and throw them away, your fingers steaming and glowing hot with mana before you hide them away in tactical gloves.

"I-" Taim tries to say but his voice fails him, eyes and mind still blinded by the harsh glare of magical fire.

"Save it." You cut him off, pulling open the lip of the trash bag to dig out your facemask helmet. It's both a full face helmet and a gasmask, scratched up from years of use but still able to protect your head while keeping you anonymous. A shame it can't filter out the stench of burnt flesh, but you've gotten used to it.

Taim's vision clears and the moment his eyes settle on the charred remains of Abdul's head— the hollowed out skull where concentrated flame had burned a hole straight through everything in it's path, the flesh and bone charred black —he's scrambling away as fast as his feet can push him, the shattered remains of your warding totem crumbling beneath his fingers. Bile rises in his throat and he coughs when he breaths in, but his stomach is thankfully empty so he ends up dry heaving.

"On your feet." Your words are hard to understand under your gasmask, but you don't need to raise your voice. The tone you use has him scrambling to his feet in seconds.

"I- I- yes sir!" Taim manages to stutter out, doesn't even have to fake his fear as he stands at attention. He watches you reach into the dirty water to pull out a Handheld Personal Computer and shake off the residual droplets to ensure it still works before putting it in your pocket.

"When is the next check in?" You ask, reaching further into the trash bag to grasp the handhold on the heavy gas canister hidden beneath office trash. You pull it out without much effort, setting it carefully on the ground so you can recheck that the release valve is intact.

"20 minutes sir." Taim responds and he doesn't need to know Arabic to know what's inside the canister when a grinning skull is printed on the metal.

You let out a low sound, and Taim tries not to peer too closely at you. Sometimes he wonders what face a person who burns people alive without a single second of hesitation could have, but then you look at him and he sees that unnatural glow of mana in your eyes behind the darkened lenses of the helmet and he's glad he's met with the emotionless visage of the mask rather than the one beneath it.

"You have 10 to get out before Hell opens up." You say, standing back up and picking up the canister without complaint. "Use the emergency tunnels, don't spook the VIPs."

Taim is human, not sensitive to magic like the monsters are, but even he can feel the latent mana in your veins that strengthens your body. Like maggots at the back of his skull. It makes a second round of bile rise to his throat. "Yes sir."

You pay close attention to him until he disappears down the corridor before going the opposite way. Alone, it is easier to calm the lingering heat in your veins until the eternal engine of mana in your chest fizzles down to embers like a sleeping beast. Can't have your mana mess with sensitive electronics, even if that does leave you exposed on the cams (as if there's anyone alive to watch them)

"Ifrit, status?" The small radio in your ear crackles.

"Moving to the target, encountered and neutralized a wolf." You answer, taking sharp turns as you follow a path you'd memorized beforehand. "No other monsters to report."

You were lucky to run into one down in the bowels of the conference hall instead of at the front gate. Otherwise your espionage mission would have turned into a frontal assault. Not that Khaled would have minded, you were getting paid to send a loud statement after all.

"Good." You don't need to see his face to know he's smirking, your employer wasn't a huge fan of subhumans. "Continue to the objective."

You respond in affirmative, coming to a heavy metal door, locked with a passcode and even a palm scanner; It's all a valiant effort to keep sensitive data safe, but it may as well be cardboard to you. You summon another circle, this time right on the door, biting your tongue. You're not good with 'subtle' but you haven't forgotten what Taurus or Sierra had taught you; first pushing a bit of loose ash magic between the large atoms making up the metal to disrupt the bonds, then a single pulse of fire ignites the volatile ash and has the entire bottom half crumbling into red hot shards.

Molten slag drips down to the floor when you duck down under the remaining half of the door to find yourself in the server room. Steam rises when the cold air meets your hot skin, but you hardly notice as you first head to the ventilation system at the back of the room. It's dark, but you don't bother turning on the lights, the subtle mana in your eyes enough to give you primitive night vision.

"Ifrit to Alpha-Actual, connecting the payload right now." You say, setting the canister down. The ventilation collects the air from the server room to push it through the entire building and then outside, so all you have to do is melt a hole through the exit pipe until it's big enough for the hose on the canister to fit snugly inside.

"And the files?" Khaled's voice sounds in your ear once you're finished.

"Going now." Standing back up you head to the central server. Taking out the HPC you hook it up to the mainframe, watching the screen until it shows 'connection secure'. "I'm connected."

"Copy that." Your eyes scan the cracked screen (which you broke less than a week after getting it), seeing the file transfer start before Khaled even finishes speaking and trying to read and memorize the names of dozens the files but they change too quickly. "File transfer ETA 5 minutes. Sit tight."

Giving confirmation you keep an eye on the doorway. Though you are positioned in such a way that you'd see the shadow of someone coming in before they see you, years of being behind enemy lines and acting as a friendly to your foes has taught you to be careful. Especially when you can't use more than a smidgeon of mana without frying the entire server system.

You are lucky that no-one comes, the remaining guards too busy guarding the diplomats above you to check what's beneath their noses. While waiting you access the public stream to watch the peace talks, setting the sound to the lowest possible setting so you can keep an eye on the diplomats in case you need a change of plan.

"Got the files, you're clear to finish." You're moving before Khaled can finish speaking, leaving the HPC to hang by the cord from the server. "Oh, and remember: Loud."

"You get what you pay for sir." Kneeling down next to the gas canister you check to ensure your gas mask is firmly on and breathing in deeply; It restricts your breathing and makes muscles work harder, but your body is so used to it that it feels like coming back home.

"Letting the gas out now." Even with the gas mask you still hold your breath when you open the valve, the gas hissing as it escapes the canister, the fan right next to you helping push it through the system. You know there's not enough gas to reach the diplomats on the top floor, it's part of the plan, so when the gas pitters out you cast another circle inside the pipe.

The servers around you flicker meekly and crackle with electricity when you use your mana fully; Something intense and suffocating burns behind your sternum for just a second before liquid mana is rushing down your veins into your hands and coming out through the magic circle as copious amounts of ash.

The rotating fan right next to you spews some of your ash right back at you, flooding the server room in magic that has long since accepted your body enough not to hurt you. But even your seasoned stomach feels tight when you breathe in the mixture of ash and toxic gas, the chemicals turning your magic a nasty shade of green, and you make a mental note to change the filter when you're done with the op otherwise the toxified sediment collecting in there will poison you for months.

You can hear the diplomats begin to cough over the livestream in the HPC, but it all feels so distant when you shift and feel cold dog tags press against your burning chest. They're light like a noose around your neck, yet the absence of weight mocks you in a way their owners no longer can.

There's a familiar sting in your bones when your mana reservoir begins dwindling, but it's easy to push through it until the engine in your chest goes into overdrive from the stress the magic puts on your body. You only stop when the burning mana in your veins starts burning small holes in the sleeves of the janitor jacket, revealing bits of your mage marked skin.

Stopping the flow of ash your hands find themselves in your pocket, taking out a lighter. It's one of those old zippo lighters, the exterior is rusted from years of action and numerous initials are scratched into the metal, but somehow it still functions; It's the strange thing about it— the more you use it, the longer it lasts. Stop, and it dies.

"It's a bit like you, firebug."

Absentmindedly you trace the scratched initials in the metal, trying to ignore the hollowness in your chest when the screams beyond the smokescreen of ash start sounding familiar.

"Going dark." You say to them, flicking it open.

One spark is all it takes.

. . .

With Makarov having gone underground like a wanker after his escape from the gulag, Price and Laswell had been stuck with their heads in mountains of paperwork searching for the bastard. Price had known he'd be in for a headache the moment he agreed to let the boys watch a live football game between England and Scotland, but he reasoned they'd all been working hard enough to earn even a small break.

At the very least it gave them all a moment of reprieve from the stress of a possible world war.

It didn't stop Soap from being a bloody muppet.

"Oh fockin' 'ell!" Soap roars and jumps to his feet, growling at the teli where a ref held a red card above her head. "That should've been a yellow! Fock, one more eye and the ref's a right cyclops." He waves obscenities at the teli as if the ref can see them, his tail hitting Gaz every time it wagged.

"Soap!" Gaz groans and stretches one black wing to smack the werewolf over the head with his long flight feathers to stop him blocking the screen.

Though Gaz's wings are hollow, the smack still hurts. "Ow, what's that for?" Soap groans, rubbing the back of his head.

"At least take your defeat with a wee bit of dignity." Gaz smirks, folding his wings.

"Bold assumption he has any." Ghost mutters next to Price, making him chuckle.

“Oh ho! I’ll get me dignity when the bloody ref gets off 'er knees an’ stops blowing the entire game.” Soap turns to playfully snap his teeth at Gaz. "And what's tha-"

The football match cuts out, replaced with a news segment.

"-Oh, what the fock?" Soap grows quiet when the newscaster begins speaking.

"We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you breaking news. As we speak, the conference hall in Al Mazra, where diplomats from over 40 countries had come to discuss peace and trade agreements with the newly reinstated Urzikstan government, burns in the flames of another terrorist attack."

The footage shifts to a drone filming a bird's eye view shot of violent flames spewing from every hole and window to engulf the entire three story building in consuming fire, heavy plumes of smoke rising into the sky like a maw of a hungering beast to spew a storm of ash and cinders down to the ground. The clouds of ash have a sick green undertone to them.

"Shit." Gaz sucks in a breath.

"Mokarov's done hiding." Ghost notes, leaning in to look closely at the screen with narrowed eyes.

"How the fock did we miss this?" Soap asks the question in their minds, turning to look at Price. "This popped up like bloody whack-a-mole."

At that same time Price's phone rings. The dragon quickly fishes it out of his pocket, seeing Laswell's name as the caller ID before he picks it up while the reporter drawls on.

"Price, are you-"

"Yeah, I'm watching the teli." He cuts her off, knowing what she's going to say. Distantly he can hear the same news report sounding on her end.

"Authorities warn citizens to vacate the immediate area as toxic gas has been detected in the air. Military forces are already enroute, but the prospects for the diplomats survival are nonexistent."

Price's draconic eyes focus on the screen when the footage shifts to that inside the conference hall. Two diplomats argue about something Price can't begin to try and untangle, his focus on one man near the back who begins coughing. More follow suit, and even over the screen Price can tell the signs of toxic gas inhalation by the way more diplomats begin wheezing and coughing wetly.

"This isn't the Russians." Kate says after Price has put her on speaker.

"How come? Looks like some terrorist shite Makarov would pull." Johnny says, his tail curled up and the tip wagging occasionally as he pays attention to the screen.

Seconds later plumes of blackish-green smog erupt from the vents above the diplomats, spewing out with such force it knocks the the camera and the man behind it down to the ground. Ash Magic, Price realizes when he sees smoldering cinders drift almost peacefully in the all consuming fog. Seconds later something causes a spark and the volatile ash magic explodes.

"Ash mage." Ghost grunts, "Just great."

"Makarov doesn't use mages." Price says, scratching his beard.

"No, but Al-Asad does." Kate's voice drifts through the silent room as they watch several APC's arrive on the scene, armored soldiers exiting. But without any monsters who can stomach the heat like Price and with the fog of ash so thick it could be cut with a knife, the best they can do is secure the perimeter. "The CIA intercepted his broadcast before it went public, this is just the start."

Gaz hops off the couch, crossing the small distance to tap one claw at the screen. "What is that?" He asks. Seemingly hearing him, the drone camera focuses on where the main entrance of the building had been.

A dark silhouette of a person can be seen in the flames, growing darker and more refined until finally a featureless helmet emerges from the flames, a deep glow emanating from behind the lenses. It's followed by a body, clothes burnt away in some parts but the flesh beneath unharmed. Price can tell immediately it's a mage by the state of the arms — even from far away it's easy to tell the mage marks, the skin turned rough and dark like cooled magma, veins brimming with volatile mana.

Before the soldiers can fire a single bullet you lift one hand up, the dark mage marks turning to bright like fresh lava when mana flows from your chest to your fingers. A magic circle etches itself into the ground in an instant, so large the surrounding buildings fall into it's perimeter.

And with a second motion of your hand everything erupts into an all consuming cloud of ash.

Laswell's voice rings out. "That's Khaled's new attack dog."

Price and Ghost share a look, both know what will happen long before some nervous soldier caught in the ash cloud pulls the trigger. The cloud of ash explodes the second a spark is created in a weapon's chamber, plunging everything into chaos.

Great, a new wanker to worry about.

Price sighs, brows furrowing. "That's trouble all right."

Tag list: @resident-cryptid @diejager @lovingtyrantkitten @lieutnt

Masterlist <- Chapter 1 (you are here) -> Chapter 2

You can imagine the helmet however you want, but it's in the style of the Devtac Ronin helmet.

#centerpieces of the hoard #cod mw2 #x reader #male reader #top male reader #captain john price #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #fanfiction #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #cod x male reader #cod x reader #monster 141 au #monster cod au #not betaed #next chapter coming soon

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venerawrites · 29 days ago

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Hello dear, I'm glad you're back! I want to ask for Itachi if you don't mind, oh god he's so cute I can't stand it! I was thinking how my boy will behave when he is in love, You know, he has a lot of love for his brother and even died for him (although that was my impression🤷). What will happen if he falls in love with a girl? His public behavior, inner feelings and thoughts...

love you so much honey😘 I don't want to force you to write anything, if you don't like this, just ignore it💖

author's note: hi, lovely! I totally agree Itachi is full of love and it makes me sad to think he never had the chance to give this love to a partner! :( Thank you so much for your request - I loved writing it! Since you specified falling in love with a girl, I used she/her pronouns in the headcanons. I hope you enjoy! <3

➤ Inner thoughts/feelings

A HURRICANE of feelings!

Because of his past, Itachi has always considered himself unworthy of love - both to give and receive. The idea of having romantic affection toward someone feels almost selfish and he feels he does not deserve such happiness.

But the heart wants what it wants and despite his attempts to tame his feelings, he would find himself falling deeper and harder. Every moment shared together would give a glimpse of the life he always secretly dreamed to have - one where he can be free of the guilt about his past and where he can be worthy of calling himself a husband and, one day, even a father.

I think it would definitely take a lot of patience and hard work from his partner's side to convince him to give himself the chance to be happy. Given what he went through, he would never be free of the dark thoughts and the self-doubt, but the control they have over him would lessen with time.

➤ Public behaviour

I don't think there will be a lot of changes in terms of how he acts in public, to be honest.

He will maintain his usual composed and calm demeanour, not showing any signs of attraction or affection toward the woman that managed to capture his heart. I think only people very close to him, like Kisame for example, would be able to notice subtle changes as the way his eyes soften when he looks at her or the way he instinctively tries to shield her with his body in dangerous situations.

Itachi is highly aware of how other perceive him and he knows he cannot publicly show any fondness or care toward the woman he likes, without putting her in danger. How well he keeps his distance, however, would greatly depends on the fact if she is a civilian or another ninja.

If she is a ninja and part of Akatsuki, for example, he would keep respectful distance. Like I said, other than his partner, no one else would be able to notice the small changes in his body language around her. He would treat her the way he has always been treating her and would avoid lingering too much in her presence, unless absolutely necessary (like a mission or something). Sometimes he would let his eyes linger on her a few second longer, but other than that there wouldn't be any other signs.

If she is not a ninja, but a civilian, it would be a different story. I think despite his calm and stoic nature, Itachi does have the tendency to worry too much and sometimes be even paranoid. I think his fear of his enemies somehow finding out about his feelings would end up in them using her as leverage. He would go and check on her once a month at first, but the more he got to know her, the more anxious he would get about the potential dangers. In the end he would visit her almost every week and while most of the Akatsuki would notice at this point, I think very few would actually care.

The closer he gets with his beloved, the more thoughtful gestures he would make toward her. He would to her likes and dislikes, noting every minor detail of their discussions in order to surprise them later in time. I totally see him as the type of man who would cook his partner's favourite dish from childhood that she randomly mentioned in a late night talk a few months ago.

Even when he starts a relationship with the woman that managed to charm him, it would take a loooong time for Itachi to relax and show any form of physical affection toward her. At least a few months would need to pass for him to be comfortable next to her and twice as long for him to feel comfortable to actually grab her hand in his or peck her lips. His partner would need to be very patient when it comes to physical affection, but this man is totally worth it!

#itachi uchiha #itachi x reader #naruto imagines #naruto headcanons #naruto requests #itachi headcanons #itachi imagine

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room-surprise · 10 months ago

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Hey! Fun question, how do you think an in-canon kabumisu confession would go? People keep portraying mithrun as blunt and straightforward about their relationship, but would he be scared to tell kabru in the chance that he'd say no and leave? Is the desire to just be in a relationship with kabru, or is the desire of not wanting to scare him off greater than that? I'm so starved on the lack of post-canon kabumisu content, they make me go crazy

As usual, I'll try not to go into TOO much detail because then I won't be motivated to write fic about it... and I AM planning to write a post-canon Kabumisu fic anon, so don't worry. I'll get there eventually :3

They make me go crazy too 😔

I think Mithrun's a complicated guy with complicated emotions. Even when he was "empty" in the dungeon he actually showed a lot of feelings - smug satisfaction, annoyance, anger, even a little bit of subtle happiness.

So while I DO think he will still be blunt in general, I also think it's a mistake to assume that means he doesn't feel things and won't have anxieties and insecurities just like any other person.

Mithrun used to be WILDLY insecure, and jealous, and paranoid. He just stopped caring about anything, but if, like the end of the manga suggests, he is going to try to START caring again, he will then start to have feelings, too.

I think Mithrun is intensely aware of his own "undesirability", that's one of the reasons he's BEEN so depressed. Most of his self-worth before the dungeon hinged on being "better" than his brother, and better than other people. Then he looses that (or maybe he was never actually better at all!), so what does he have left? And now his youth is gone too, he's middle-aged and lost his "best years" to depression. He's disabled, he's scarred, he's a bastard that nobody wants.

It's a pretty huge fall from "most eligible bachelor in the empire"!

So I think no, he won't just bluntly tell Kabru that he likes him. It will take Mithrun awhile to realize how he feels, and once he does, he'll be afraid to reach out, so he's going to do what I call "playing silly little elf games". He's going to try and flirt via writing letters and sending gifts, to hint that he likes Kabru.

Luckily for Mithrun, Kabru also knows how to play Silly Little Elf Games (he's an Olympic champion), so he picks up the signals and starts reciprocating, though he's also uncertain and worried that he's misunderstanding. Captain Mithrun couldn't be flirting with him, could he? But... what if he is?

(I will go into Kabru's feelings at a later date anon i promise.)

I think the thing that will ultimately push Mithrun to act is the fear that he'll miss his chance. Mithrun realizes Kabru is a limited time deal that he can only enjoy for the next 60-something years, and he wants every minute of that time for himself, no matter how much it will someday hurt to lose Kabru.

And he also knows that Kabru is very handsome and charming, and he can't expect Kabru to wait for Mithrun to get himself figured out. Someone else will swoop in and snatch that man up, so Mithrun has to hurry.

ALL OF THAT SAID... I think their confession is a lot less of a confession, and much more "we have both been picking up these signals of interest for months/years, and finally one of us pushes it a little bit further than we've ever pushed it before and we acknowledge the unspoken thing that has been growing between us."

Maybe it's a hand resting on someone's leg, or a gentle touch on the arm. Maybe it's leaning in so their shoulders touch. Maybe it's looking into each other's eyes a little bit longer than normal.

Probably it involves both of them admitting "Spending time with you makes me happier than anything else in the world. Whenever we're apart all I think about is when I'm going to see you again. I spend hours composing letters to you in my mind. I want us to spend our days together, no matter what shape that takes."

It's very vulnerable and scary for both of them, and I think they're both DEEPLY relieved after they finally get it out, and they don't get rejected. They know each other so well, and they're so good at reading people - they both thought that the other might feel the same way, but it's so scary to take that leap of faith and hope that they're right.

And just for the record, I think that Kabru worries about if Mithrun will be interested in sex or not, because sex is something that matters to Kabru, but what if Mithrun just doesn't have any desire for it?

And so before they get into a relationship Kabru has a long hard think about it, and decides that even if they never have sex, he wants to be in a romantic relationship with Mithrun anyway, because just being around him makes him feel happy, and understood, and like he isn't alone anymore. There's someone who sees him as he is, all the good and the bad, and says "I love you anyway."

And Kabru decides that he's willing to just jerk off for the rest of his life if that's the price of this relationship that he wants.

Luckily for Kabru, I think Mithrun does want to have sex with him, but I like to think that Kabru thinks through all the possibilities and decides that no matter what they end up doing together, being with Mithrun is worth it.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #kabru #mithrun #kabumisu #my stuff #kabrun #analysis #headcanon

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reyreadersblog · 6 months ago

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EMERALD NECKLESS

Averyjameson x angst

Pairs: Avery Kylie Grambs x Jameson Winchester Hawthorne, the imheritance games.

Synopsis: Avery was worried because Jamie dissapeared for a while and he wasn't picking up his phone or answering her masseges, then he comes back home bruised and injuried and they have an argument.

A/n: this is based on my Averyjameson headcanons, i asked if y'all wanted fic about one of the hc and you guy said yes, so here you go.

Taglist: @jkriordanverse @reminiscentreader @sophiesonlinediary @lxvebelle @mariamluv @s-rosie @lyrakanefanatic @f4iry-bell @tornqdowarnings

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~AVERY'S POV:

Enidburgh, 8 p.m.

I was used to Jameson Hawthorne dissapearing for hours and not returning home on time. That's what he's been doing ever since we started traveling together. But i have never been this worried, he would never even try to make me this worried for him. And yet here i was calling him for the 15th time, and he still wasn't answering.i have left him 20 massages, asking where he was, what was he doing, when would he be home...he didn't answer any of them.

Now, i wouldn't say i am a paranoid person. In fact, i'm a complete opposite, but Jameson Hawthorne would bring even a devil out of a person. We haven't even talked about what happened in Prague, he doesn't want to tell me, and i don't want to force him.

But this is different. I tried to remember everything that happened before he left.

...he didn't even kiss me before he left. He always does that, always kisses me on the lips. But this time he forgot...

And now he's gone for 8 hours. I don't want to panic, but all i can do is panic.

I even called officer Dezz, who, thanks to Jameson for ending up in jail quite a few times, i know great. He said he wasn't aware of anything.

I put my phone down on the table. Sit on the couch, and put my face in my hands.

Then suddenly i heard a knock on the door.

Jameson, i thought and rushed to the door to open

"Jame-" i stopped after i saw Oren's face.

"Avery, he still hasn't returned?" He asked. In the most emotionless way possible.

I shook my head as a sign og no.

"I could call his brothers or search-"

"No need for that, yet, Oren" i inturrupted him

Oren was quiet for a second.

"It's Jameson, he's probably out there messing with someone or betting his whole fortune on something" he said.

"I know, i know he loves taking risks...and that's what i'm afriad of" i said. "I just hope he is careful"

Oren left, gave me some privacy.

"What could he possibly be doing right now in Edinburgh?" I mumble to myself.

It was getting, i decided to go to bed, but i felt..incomplete, like i was lacking something..or someone, Jameson beside me.

Where are you mystery boy?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

JAMESON'S POV:

Edinburgh, 4 a.m.

Blood.

Shit.

There is blood everywhere, on my hands, on my, recently, broken nose, on my suit.

I've escaped papparazzis. escaping security guard to get into my apartment shouldn't be that hard either. I could easly just walked down and entered the hotel...but my apparence now, would cause a lot of questions? And answering questions, is the last thing i'm in the mood for.

I pulled out my, freshly broken, phone and dialed the main security service. Some phone near by was ringing.

Go on answer you wanker.

He turns back and enters the security office.

And this my chance.

I take my card out, and rush to the hotel door.

Everything hurts, jesus.

That damn neckless, i really hope it's worth it.

I really shouldn't have messed with the last guy.

I hold on to the door handle, and then all of a sudden i remember something, rather someone. Avery.

How could i forgot about her? The whole day...

I pull out my phone and check the contacts.

17 missed calls and 27 massages.

I felt a sudden guilt, and i was mad. Mad at myself for forgetting about her. I am such a fucking idiot. She must've been so worried, and i was there competing with those jerks.

I enter the room, light were turned off.

Avery must be sleeping.

i go into the kitchen and drink a glass of water.

And then i felt someone behind me, the lights switched on, i turned around and Avery was standing there. I could never exacly describe her face the moment she saw me.

Fear, worry, anger and joy.

All of the emotions at the same time.

I didn't say a single word, neither did she.

She just came closer to me and then suddenly her arms were around my neck, and my hand were on her back.

I kissed her forhead and she looked me in the eye.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AVERY'S POV:

Edinburgh, 4:25 a.m.

His face was bruised, mostly his left eye, his nose was broken, his lips were swollen, and his kunckles were injured.

I was so mad at him. I was so realived that he was here, in front of me, that he didn't left me like my mom.

I looked at his hands. This needed to be treated immediatly.

"Heiress, i-"

"Shut up" i cut him off and rush him to the bathroom.

I found first aid, and first i tried cleaning the injury with water.

Fifteen minutes passed. His hands were bandaged. Now i needed to take care of his eye.

In the span of this 15 minutes, he hasn't said anything, he didn't even made a sound. He was wierdly silent for his own self.

I put ice on his eye, and i tired so hard to get rid of the worried face, but i couldn't.

"It's not that serious, it's just a cut" Jameson said.

I felt rush of anger growing inside me. I put the ice cube down.

"It's not that serious?" I said mockingly

"You come back home, bruised, injured, hurt, after almost a whole day, without answering my calls and returning my massages, and you're saying it's not that serious?" I say, with a hard strict tone.

"Heiress, i never meant to worry you, that's the last thing i want to do." He says, looking worried.

"You know what Jameson, you might be careless and negligent, but some people are not. I am not. I care about the people i love deeply, i always look out for them, and when they dissapear without contacting me the whole day, i do think is serious." I say, as much as i try to control myself, i can't.

"Are you impling that i don't care about the people i love?" He asked me. His green eyes staring into mine, oh, it was cruelty..to make me feel this type of way for him when i was mad at him.

"Coming from the way you behaved today, yeah, you do not care" i say.

Suddenly i feel everything stopping.

He looke..hurt.

For a few moments he is silent, looking up and down.

Then, he pulls out a neckless from his pocket.

It can't be...

Sun shaped emerald neckless.

"Do you remember this?" He asks me.

"That's...my mothers neckless.." i couldn't finish the sentence, i was confused and shocked.

"She gave this to you, on your 15th birthday, your last birthday with her, but you lost it, and you couldn't find it"

I didn't say anything, i just waited for him to continue.

"I read your diary, or your leather book..whatever you call it. But you must forgive me it was for a good reason...i..your birthday is coming up, actually it's next week, and i thought Jameson this girl is special, she deserves more than..hidden picnics..or races..or hot air ballons..you really do Avery, and i read the book beacuse you'd never tell me what you wanted, even if i said tahiti. I read all about this neckless and how special it was for you.."

For a moment he stopped and then continued

"I decided to get it for you, heiress, i looked for it, and just so you know it's not just some random neckless, it is one of the rarest, and it may have been stolen from you sometime you didn't realised..."

He stopped and asked me

"Why do you this i wanted to come here so badly in the first place? Because the neckless was here, kept in a museum, illegaly, and u tried so hard to get it back, sure i went through some..painful stuff and some assholes to get it, but i did it, and i would've done it billion times for you Avery. "

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AVERY'S POV:

Edinburgh, 4:53

Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.

My heart was pounding.

My eyes were watering.

He did this, all for me.

I hurt him.

I told him he was careless and negligent.

I told him he didn't care about others.

"...i wanted this to be your birthday surprise..but it oka-" he stopped talking and looked at me.

I was crying, hot tears were steaming down my cheeks.

Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.

He rushed to me and put my face in his hands.

"Hey, hey, hey..heiress look at me, it's me, your mystery boy, and everything is alright" he tried to calm me down.

He hugged me and whispered shhh, shhh, shhh

We were like this for a while.

I pulled away and he washed tears out of my face.

"I'm sorry" i whispered.

He kissed my forhead.

"I should be the one to say sorry for making you worry." He said.

"Jameson?"

"Yes heiress?"

"Can you help me clasp the neckless?"

He gave me his usual devilish grin that was worth to die for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What's this mom?" Asked a 15 years old girl..who has just turend 15.

"This is a special neckless, for a special girl, like you, Ave"

The girl smiled and laughed.

"Mom can you help me clasp it?"

"Of course i can my little girl.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jameson clasped the neckless, it was just as beautiful as the day i first wore it.

He came and hugged me from behined.

"You are the most beautiful human i've ever seen" he whispered in my ear.

I turned my head to him, he turned his to mine.

"I love you, Jameson Winchester Hawthorne"

"I love you too, Avery Kylie Grambs".

•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○

OHH boy this took forever.

Btw not read proofed, so sorry for the mistakes.

Hope you enjoyed.

#the inheritance games #the hawthorne legacy #grayson hawthorne #the hawthorne brothers #the brothers hawthorne #avery grambs #the grandest game #the final gambit #libby grambs #nash hawthorne #jameson winchester hawthorne #jameson hawthorne

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stormoflina · 6 months ago

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re: Stef/ @macallisters

It's quite sad to find out that the lfc community here is still unnecessarily toxic due to one person's constant, never ending antics. Yes, Stef, I'm talking about you, if you are reading this by any chance, from one of your many side accounts. I have kept my silence for months, not once did I make nasty or even slightly suggestive posts about my experience with you, but what is enough is enough. Despite the kindness people showed you, despite the many chances you were given, it seems like you just don't learn. I'm tired of the anons, the rants and rumbles, the side accounts or seeing people I care about having to waste their precious time on this. I even care about those who are perhaps not even on this app yet. The Euros is coming soon, and with that most likely a new wave of people interested in the players/the club, dipping their toes into our community, and I don't want the same to happen to them what happened to me and many others, having what is supposed to be a fun experience turned into some laughable internet drama.

You keep mentioning February, well, let's talk about February then. You know, it's one thing that you sent me weird or mean anons for months, while you were being all nice and kind in my DMs, but it's a completely different matter when one day you decided to message a close friend of mine here, with the intention of spreading lies about me and trying to paint a picture of me, that was and sadly still is, a picture of you. You very well know that I never sent you hateful messages, either as anons or ones with “forgetting” my name there. It was you who did it, to me, to many others, and sadly, you still keep doing this. After you got called out by others you blocked me, before I could have personally messaged you. I tried to let it go, even if for some time you did make me a bit paranoid, leaving me thinking about to how many others you tried to sully my name. We tried to move on, but you kept sending them to my friends, even getting meaner, more hateful, and now, despite deactivating your old account, you keep doing the same thing.

You keep mentioning your poor mental health and your current struggles in life. If that is true, Stef, then please, first of all and most importantly, for your own sake and well-being quit this website for a while. I understand how hard it can be, when you are going through a difficult part of life, but this is not an acceptable form of dealing with it. To me, it seems having a tumblr blog is a great joy to you, so please, don't ruin your own fun. Take responsibility for your actions, admit your wrong doings, and reflect on your time spent here. I promise you, having a football tumblr is not that deep. Would you stop sending anons and creating unnecessary drama and perhaps as I mentioned, take responsibility and change, nobody would have a bad word to say to you. Sharing our bad experience is not bullying you, simply sharing the truth. There were a lot of people who were supportive, kind and helpful to you, and by the looks of it, there are still many who do the same. Don’t limit the number of these people in your life by petty internet stuff, time changes and so can you.

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ineffable-dads · 1 year ago

Text

Don't Wait Up

Ineffable Husbands, Ineffable Dads, Light Angst, Mentions of Bullying, Hurt/Comfort, Protective!Crowley, Child!OC

Ineffable Dads Masterlist

A/N: Hey! I'm not dead. With all the hype around season 2, I remembered this was still kicking around my files and decided to finally finish it. I have NOT had a chance to watch season 2 so if this isn't in keeping with new information, I apologize. Please no spoilers in the meantime. Once I get a chance to watch it, I'll likely have plenty of thoughts to share. Thanks!

Also, PLEASE COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THIS. I NEED VALIDATION TO LIVE!

Summary: Aziraphale finds himself waiting for Isabelle to come home from her first date. Unfortunately, humans can be rather unpredictable creatures.

Word Count: 1.9K

Aziraphale wasn’t waiting up. He had no reason to. Isabelle had been very clear on that score.

She was going to meet a boy from school at the cinema. She had told Aziraphale what time it started and when she’d likely be back. He had nothing to worry about and therefor had no reason to wait up. The fact he had decided to catch up on some reading while taking a seat closest to the front door was a mere coincidence.

His eyes scanned over the pages, but halfway down the second, realized he hadn’t truly read any of it. With a slight huff, he set the book down and leaned back in the chair.

He really shouldn’t worry. Crowley certainly wasn’t as he made himself comfortable watching telly in the other room. Still, the whole thing nagged at him.

It wasn’t as if he were keeping vigil over Isabelle’s virtue or whatever it was fathers were so paranoid about to the point of threatening young suitors with violence. What Isabelle decided to do or not to do was entirely her decision. She was a smart girl after all and had been taught from a young age not to be afraid of the word no. All the same, he knew he’d feel much better once he saw her come through the door safe and sound. Isabelle might be good at saying no, but it didn’t mean other people listened.

That was the real crux of the issue, he supposed. Other humans. There was no telling what they would do.

With a slight effort, he got up from the chair, adjusting his waistcoat as he did so. No point in pretending to read. She’d be another hour at least. Might as well make some tea and think of something else to do. Maybe he’d even give that show a try Crowley seemed so addicted to.

Just as that rather shuddering thought ran through his mind, the front door clicked open. Relief immediately spread through him as he turned towards the entrance.

“Ah, Belle you’re back. How was your evening?”

She ignored him, keeping her head down as she quickened her pace toward stairs. The smile which had appeared on the angel’s face quickly disappeared.

“Dear, are you alright?”

Isabelle didn’t answer. She only let out a shuttered breath of one trying hold back tears and failing. She just ran the rest of the way up as fast as she could before slamming the door to her room shut.

Aziraphale blinked, finding himself standing rather uselessly at the bottom of the stairs. Of course, she wasn’t alright. Something had to have gone wrong if she came back this early. Different scenarios flashed across his mind, most of them ending with Isabelle giving a boy a well-deserved slap, but none of them provided him any useful insight.

“Was that Izz?” Crowley said, poking his head out from his study, undoubtedly clued in by the proceeding bang. “Something wrong?”

“Um yes,” Aziraphale said distractedly. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”

Before Crowley could get another word in, the angel walked up the stairs, and stopped just in front of Isabelle’s door.

“Belle?” he called gently. “Dearest, what’s wrong?”

He received no answer, aside from the muffled cries.

“Isabelle please open the door. I promise you’ll feel much better if you let me in.”

“Go away,” her voice came tiredly.

“Alright, you don’t have to open the door,” he conceded. “Just talk. What happened?”

“Nothing,” she said, more forcefully this time. “Just leave me alone.”

He gave small sigh, halfway between exasperated and concerned.

“Belle what have I told you about lying?”

“You do it all the time.”

He pulled back, his brows furrowing. “Now that is a bit of an exaggeration.”

“You let people think you’re human, that’s lying.”

“That’s different, if I went around saying--,” he stopped himself, directing a tight-lipped expression straight into the door frame. “Now that is completely off the subject.”

There was a pause. Aziraphale could practically hear her annoyed look at being caught.

He took a deep breath. “Dear,” he said as his voice slipped back to its parental tone, “please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Isabelle snapped. “Can’t I just not want to talk about something? Leave me alone!”

Aziraphale jerked back from the door, startled by her outburst. He opened his mouth to retaliate, but quickly realized it would do no good. For whatever reason, she wasn’t going to talk to him.

A slight pain came to his chest at the thought.

There had been times Isabelle kept things to herself, but not for long and never anything serious. She knew she could tell him and Crowley anything. Yes, he had read enough books to know finding independence was part of the growing pains of adolescent, but he hadn’t thought it meant she would willingly shut him out. He felt rather stuck about the whole thing and slowly made his way back downstairs, chewing his bottom lip the whole way.

He was so caught up in his own thoughts, he was a little surprised to find Crowley waiting for him, arms crossed, and stone faced.

“What happened,” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” Aziraphale said, sadly. “She came in crying and went straight to her room.”

The demon’s brows creased. “She was crying?”

“Yes, she tried her best to hide it, poor dear. I don’t know what happened, but it must have been something very bad.”

Crowley nodded. “Right, best let me take the lead.”

“What are you going to do?” Aziraphale asked.

“Tough love.”

He then turned his attention up the stairs.

“Izz! I’m coming up!”

It was her only warning as he stormed the steps with a determination which normally left Aziraphale flustered. And he was, rather, having followed him halfway up the stairs before he knew what his legs were doing.

“What part of ‘leave me alone’ do you not understand?” she shouted back as Crowley reached the landing.

“All of it,” he said. “Now let me in.”

“No!”

“Izz, I have respected your privacy by asking, but using my authority as your father I’m coming in anyway.”

He snapped his fingers and there was no longer a door.

Isabelle sat up on her bed, her eyes flashing with tears and anger.

“That’s not fair!” she shouted.

“Lesson one for the evening, life isn’t fair,” he said sternly. “Lesson two, privacy is an illusion. Now are you going to tell me why you’re crying?”

“It doesn’t matter!” she snapped. “I just need to cry, okay? Sometimes you just need to cry. It’s human. It’s a very human thing to do. Now can’t I just cry?!”

It was then Isabelle finally caught Aziraphale’s eye. The anger was still there, but it was obvious just how hurt she truly was. He hadn’t seen her eyes so red since she had broken her arm after attempting a rather precarious trick on the monkey bars. This was different though. He couldn’t miracle it away, for one.

Isabelle instantly put her head down looking ashamed at having both of them see her like this.

“Oh dear,” Aziraphale said, crossing the room toward her. He took a seat on the bed and quickly wrapped her in a hug. “There, there, it will be alright.”

Isabelle tried her best to look annoyed at his gesture, but her body language gave her away as she leaned into the embrace. In all honestly, it made him feel just a bit better too. At least he felt like he was doing something useful.

“Dearest, what’s wrong?” the angel tried again.

She let out another shuddering breath, shaking her head. “It’s stupid. It was a stupid joke. I’m stupid to have fell for it. I’m sorry.”

“What joke was that?” he asked.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Isabelle,” Crowley said.

That got both their attentions.

Aziraphale looked up at him and saw an uncharacteristically soft look on his face as he looked Isabelle right in the eyes.

It wasn’t the first time he had given that look, but it was a rare enough thing, that Aziraphale always felt a little off balance at seeing it. There was something different about it, just a glimmer of that angel he used to be back before the world.

The girl in his arms seemed to feel the same thing as whatever fight she had left in her slipped away.

“It was all a joke,” she said quietly. “Thomas asking me out. It was all a joke.”

Both Aziraphale and Crowley remained silent allowing her to continue.

“He told me to meet him at the cinema, so I did. After a while it looked like he was going to be late so I texted him and he told me he was sorry, that he got caught up with school stuff and he’d meet me there in a bit so we could get dinner. So, I waited and about half an hour later he drove up with his friends and they just started laughing.”

She let in a sharp breath as she started to feel the familiar tightness in her throat.

“They just thought it was really funny. I mean c’mon it’s hilarious, why on earth would the school freak think that anyone would be interested.”

The tears were flowing freely now.

“I mean how naive is that? It’s so stupid. I’m so stupid.”

She tried to compose herself, but every attempt she made seemed to make it worse.

“I’m sorry. I should have seen it coming. You taught me how to spot liars and I didn’t. I’m smarter than this.”

She broke down again no longer having it in her to form words. Aziraphale pulled her in tighter and she let him. He slowly rocked her back and forth rubbing her back soothingly.

“Shhh, it’s alright, you have nothing to apologize for. That’s it. Just let it all out.”

Crowley for his part said nothing as the last of Isabelle’s tears trickled down her cheeks. His stance was much stiffer now with balled knuckles and hardened gaze. Something was brewing deep inside his mind and, needless to say, it was decidedly unpleasant.

Isabelle eventually calmed down and Aziraphale let her go with the promise of coco and the fact it would be better in the morning. She only half believed him, but accepted the idea of coco with as much enthusiasm as one could muster after having their feelings stamped on.

Both Aziraphale and Crowley left the room in mutual silence not speaking until they reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Poor dear,” Aziraphale said. “It’s going to take a while to recover from this. She’s really taken what those boys said to heart.”

“Yes,” Crowley said, “sticks and stones may break my bones, but mental scars are forever, or something like that. You got this angel?”

“Yes,” he said suspiciously. “Why do you ask?”

“Got to take care of something.” The demon then grabbed his keys, coat, and sunglasses before heading out the door. “Don’t wait up.”

Aziraphale did not need to ask what it was that Crowley needed to take care of, or more accurately who.

He also knew somewhere, deep down, he should intervene, but the crying girl upstairs gave him pause. He didn’t know exactly what Crowley had in mind, and if he didn’t know, there was no real way he could reasonably stop him. Aziraphale was satisfied with this circular logic and allowed himself to settle in for the night. There was no need to wait up, after all.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #ineffable dads #crowley #aziraphale #isabelle crowley #child!oc #child oc

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raaorqtpbpdy · 10 months ago

Text

Why Are Seers Always Cursed? (2)

Wesley Weston is a son of Apollo with the rare gift of prophecy.

Written for @crossoverdanuary Week 2024, Day 3: Percy Jackson | Lake

This takes place shortly before Annabeth, Luke, and Thalia arrive at Camp Half-Blood, and while Wes is still in middle school, meaning it's set before the primary canon events of both series. You can also read it on AO3.

Chapter 2: Camp Orientation

Previous | Next

[No Warnings Apply]

New York City was nothing like Amity Park. If Wes thought the buildings back home were pretty tall, the skyscrapers here were gargantuan. He was half worried they'd fall over at that height, like a Jenga tower. It smelled worse than Amity Park too. Maybe it was just because of the steadily increasing heat, but the place smelled like sweat and garbage.

"Come on Wesley, no time to waste," Melvin said, ushering him onto the shuttle out of the airport.

"I told you, it's just Wes," he repeated for probably the sixth time. "So how far is this Camp Half-Blood place, anyway?"

The two of them had had the chance to talk on their flight, and Melvin had explained everything. Wes hadn't wanted to believe it at first, but after listening for a while, it started to make sense.

"You mean Apollo wasn't a stage name?" Wes had asked. "That was the real, actual Apollo? No way, that's ridiculous."

"When he sent a message to camp asking for a searcher to go get you, he said that you had inherited the gift of prophecy," Melvin had said. "Haven't you ever felt or seen things before they happened? Had dreams or visions that ended up being true?"

Wes' mind had instantly gone to how he'd known that his mother was going to meet Apollo again. But then he'd started to remember other things. That time his dad had gotten fired, and he'd used his saved-up allowance to buy a consolation cake on the way home from school, even though he couldn't have known until he got home and his dad told them about it. Somehow, he'd just known that something bad had happened and his dad would need a pick-me-up.

He'd thought about how he always somehow knew when there would be a pop-quiz at school. Even about how, when he was little, he never lost a game of Guess Who. How he hadn't been surprised when he'd learned his dad wasn't really his dad, how he'd almost been expecting the news. He'd known when Easton's college acceptance letter came in the mail, and when Kyle was going to eat it and break his arm during a skateboarding competition.

All this time, Wes had attributed it to coincidence, or lucky guesses, but... could it really be prophetic knowledge?

"I can see by your expression you know exactly what I'm talking about," Melvin had said. "But prophecy is a rare and highly coveted ability. Honestly, Apollo should have called us to pick you up years ago. You're just lucky you never made the connection before, because if you knew, they'd be able to smell it on you."

"They?"

"Monsters," Melvin had clarified. "The ones from the Greek myths, harpies, cyclopes, basilisks, all them. They're all real. A demigod with the gift of prophecy like you is in even more danger than most. I mean, any demigod is in danger of being attacked and killed by monsters, but you? You they might keep alive as a prisoner, using you for your ability, and that's arguably worse."

Wes had swallowed, suddenly a bundle of nerves.

"Don't worry, though, once we get to camp, you'll be fine," Melvin had said. "There, you'll learn how to fight and protect yourself, and you'll be protected, too."

"Right...."

Wes was jumpy as they took the shuttle to the city and then the bus to Long Island. After Melvin had explained the mist to him, he looked at everything and everyone like they might be out to get him. He'd never been so paranoid in his life. But him being a demigod explained more than just his apparent precognition.

Back when he was in grade school, he could have sworn on his life that their neighbor's huge quote-unquote "dog" was not a normal dog. It's eyes glowed sometimes, and out of the corner of his eye it always looked to have horns, but they would disappear when he looked directly at it. It always growled at him when he passed, and one day, he took the long way home and snuck in through the back door because he somehow knew that if he took his usual route that dog was going to attack him.

The day after that, the neighbor took her dog and moved out suddenly. He never saw either of them again.

How many other monster-dogs and monster-people had he missed because he didn't know he should look for them? How many times had he narrowly avoided death because he had a gut feeling that made him take a different route home or fake sick to get out of school?

"Stop that," Melvin whispered.

"Huh?"

"It's good to be vigilant, but if you assume everyone is a monster, you'll drive yourself crazy," he clarified. "Our stop's coming up, and from there is a bit of a walk, but it's usually pretty quiet. Just try to stay calm. We're in the home stretch."

Right.

Trying to stay calm failed spectacularly. Wes spent the whole walk from the bus stop to the camp more anxious than he'd ever been. He felt like every shadow, and even the wind blowing through the trees was going to come after him. Melvin was right. It was driving him crazy.

"You know, this is going really smoothly," Melvin said after a while. "I mean, I said the walk would be quiet, but usually we searchers find demigods because they're being attacked or something. It's not often that a god actually comes by camp to tell us to pick up his kid and gives us an exact address.

"Of course, it's not often a demigod inherits the gift of prophecy either. In fact, I think the last one was born in the 1890s, if I remember right. It's almost as rare as a child of Hephaestus being able to control fire. I guess I should have expected your case to be different—it was certainly better planned and scheduled. I would have expected more danger though."

Suddenly, Wes felt a hot feeling shoot through him. "Wait," he said stopping in his tracks. He looked around, scanning what he could see of the horizon. "We should go a different way."

"Why? Did you see something?"

"No I felt..." Wes suddenly felt silly again. There was no reason to change course because of a feeling. Then again... he did supposedly have the gift of prophecy. Maybe it wasn't just a feeling after all. "I felt like I was standing next to a bonfire for a second. I think if we keep going this way, we'll get burned."

"It could be more dangerous if we stray from the path but... who am I to argue with a seer," Melvin said. "We'll go this way."

With that, Melvin led him just past the trees that lined the road. After about thirty minutes, they heard a distant roar in the direction the road would have been, and Melvin stopped to smell the air.

"Definitely a monster," he said.

A plume of fire shot into the sky.

"A drakon, I think. It would have been bad if we'd run into it." He looked down at Wes, a little incredulously. "I'll be damned. Did you know?"

"Not exactly," Wes said. "Like I told you, I felt fire, and a strong sense that it was related to the direction we were headed. That's all."

"I guess that's all we needed," Melvin said. "Huh...." The look he fixed Wes with next was curious, almost hungry. It made the redhead squirm. "Anyway, camp's not much farther now. If the drakon's heading that way, we should warn them."

A few minutes more, and they reached the crest of a hill.

In the valley on the other side was a summer camp. Wes could see an amphitheater, a large blue farmhouse with a wraparound porch, a cluster of maybe a dozen cabins, give or take, and a little ways away a place with about a dozen long, white picnic tables. Campers ranging from about seven-or-eight to their late teens were scattered about doing an odd mix of normal camp activities and intense-looking combat training.

"Welcome to Camp Half-Blood," Melvin said brightly. "Come on, we should warn Chiron about the drakon."

Melvin led Wes down to the blue farmhouse, where he met the camp director, Mr. D, and a centaur named Chiron, who apparently was the actual camp director. Melvin quickly introduced Wes to both of them as the child of Apollo who could see the future, and then told them about the drakon they'd avoided on their way there.

"Thank you, Mr. Barkley, I'll take him from here," Chiron said, and he led Wes toward the cabins.

"Another one for cabin eleven?" A wiry-looking girl of about sixteen asked.

"Sorry, Robin, this one's been claimed by Apollo already," Chiron told her. Then he looked back at Wes. "Robin is the head counselor of the Hermes Cabin. Since Hermes is the god of travelers, that's where campers who haven't been claimed, or who were claimed by a god other than the twelve Olympians stay. We know who your godly parent is, so you'll be staying in cabin seven, the Apollo Cabin, along with the other children of Apollo.

"Apollo's head counselor, Archer, will show you around camp," he finished as he stopped in front of a cabin with the number seven hanging over the door. "Now, please excuse me, I must inform the Ares Cabin of the potential threat."

Wes waited for him to leave before knocking on the cabin door.

"If that's you, Robin, fuck off!" a voice called from inside.

"It's not!" Wes called back awkwardly.

A few seconds later, a boy about the same age as Kyle answered the door. He was about average height and build with brown skin and dark brown hair tied back into a short ponytail.

"Who're you?" he asked.

"Uh... I'm Wes Weston," Wes answered. "Chiron told me to come here."

"You're a son of Apollo?"

"I guess."

"Archer Gutierrez," he introduced. "I'm head of the Apollo Cabin, nice to meet you. Sorry about the language. Come on in."

Inside, there were bunk beds on either side with a cot in the middle of the cabin for some reason. It smelled of clean linen and dried sage. Rough wooden beams ribbed the ceiling and the white plaster walls were mostly bare, except for a few hooks, even though there were paintings and wall hangings all over the floor.

"Sorry, Robin keeps breaking in and taking everything off the walls for literally no reason," Archer explained. "We have set so many traps and stuff to stop her, but she keeps getting past them somehow. Either we're gonna have to escalate to putting in landmines like the Ares Cabin, or just stop hanging stuff on the walls altogether, because this is ridiculous. I mean it's basically harmless, but it's super annoying. Can you put that bow back up over there?"

"Are the Apollo and Hermes cabins, like, rivals or something?" Wes asked, lifting an intricately carved bow off the floor and resting it on a set of hooks Archer had pointed to.

"No, not really," he replied. "It's just Robin. I think she's still pissed that I broke up with her a couple months ago. She said she was cool with it, but she still keeps breaking into cabin seven to make a mess, so I don't know."

"Weren't you in school a couple months ago?" Wes asked. "I thought this was just a summer camp?"

"Some of us stay here year round, if we don't have anywhere else to go, or if we don't want to go," Archer answered with a shrug.

The two of them finished hanging everything back up in relative silence, broken up only by Archer's humming and Wes occasionally asking where something was supposed to go. Once they were done, Archer took him out for the grand tour. The cabins, the dining pavilion, the camp store, the forge, the amphitheater, the arts and crafts room, the archery range, the music classroom, the infirmary, the arena.

He mostly focused on the places where Apollo campers tended to hang out, unsurprisingly. Apparently Wes would be expected to help out in the infirmary sometimes, since Apollo was the god of medicine, even though the most Wes knew about medicine came from Kyle bribing him to help patch up skateboarding injuries before their dad found out.

It seemed the camp and camp activities were pretty much completely divided based on godly parent. In the dining pavilion, they had to sit at their godly parent's table, and weren't allowed to sit at someone else's. They did camp activities in groups with other people who shared their godly parent. They weren't allowed to enter cabins that weren't their own—though obviously that didn't stop Robin. The way Archer explained it made it sound like these rules were pretty strict though.

Then Wes saw something out of the corner of his eye. "Huh?"

"What? You have a question?" Archer asked.

"No, I just thought I saw... nevermind. Must've been a trick of the light." For a moment, Wes thought he saw a large pine tree at the top of the hill. But there was obviously no pine tree there.

"Come on, I'll show you the volleyball court."

"I prefer basketball."

"I'll bet you do," Archer snorted. "Apollo cabin has pick-up games from time to time. It gets pretty intense. The record for farthest score is 165 feet from the hoop."

"Really?" Wes said. "That's amazing. That's more than a full court shot. That's almost two courts."

"Everyone knows Apollo kids have the best aim. That was two year ago, though, and no one's been able to match it yet, not even the guy who did it."

Wes stopped in his tracks. The hot feeling had returned, this time on the back of his neck. He turned around and saw the camp border directly behind him.

"It's coming here," he said.

"Huh?"

"What do you guys do when a monster attacks?" he asked instead of clarifying.

"Ares cabin usually takes the front lines with the other cabins providing backup," Archer explained. "Apollo cabin grabs our bows and arrows and retreats to high ground to lay down cover fire."

"You should get ready to do that, then."

"Huh? Why?" he asked, cocking his head in confusion. "We can't know when a monster will attack until it does, so there's no point freaking out about it, ri..." he trailed off when he caught sight of the entire Ares cabin fully armed and armored and heading up the hill. "That's strange, usually they only send a few guards at a time to act as lookouts, but I haven't heard the lookouts say anything."

Just as the rest of Ares Cabin reached the top of the hill, the lookouts started to shout.

"Drakon approaching!" They screamed as loud as they could.

"How did you know?" Archer asked Wes, not moving.

"Shouldn't you get your bow?"

"Right, but this is not the end of this conversation!" He started running to tell the other Apollo campers to get ready.

As Wes looked back up to the hilltop, to the Ares campers charging down at the monster, for a moment, he saw that pine tree again, stretching up toward the heavens. Then he blinked, and it was gone. It hadn't been there in the first place.

#dp #dp x pjo #dp crossover #danny phantom #fic #wes weston #pjo #things i wrote #crossover danuary week 2024 #crossover danuary week #chapter two #why are seers always cursed?

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