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redflagshipwriter · 8 months

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Hot Ghouls in Your Area

Chapter 1

“A cult?” Jason blew out a bubble and enjoyed the disgusted face that Bruce made.

“Yes.” His voice was tight. Jason could tell that he wanted to turn back to the Batcomputer. “They’re operating in Park Row-”

“Crime Alley.”

Batman sighed and accepted the correction. “I would like to propose a joint operation.” He sounded so tired and not very optimistic.

Jason eyed up his on-again-off-again Father figure and popped his gum, thinking it over. Bruce clearly expected him to say no, fuck off, and take the information himself.

He could. There was nothing wrong with that.

“Sure, old man.” He clapped Bruce on the shoulder and finished screwing together the tool he’d brought in for maintenance. He’d had to fabricate a new part and the Red Hood didn’t exactly have the equipment for that in his two room apartment. “Thursday night alright?”

“They’ve a planned meeting on Wednesday, actually,” Bruce said, frowning slightly at him but looking soft around the eyes with confused hope. “Would that be possible? They seem to gather mid-week.”

Jason let out a sigh. “I can make it work. Ta, old man.” He made sure to toss off an especially insouciant salute as he sauntered away. Sure, he was willing to put a little effort into maintaining their relationship, but he couldn’t be too compliant. If you gave Bruce an hour of your time, he wrote you down on the schedule for an hour every day until one of you fuckin’ died in a warehouse explosion. Something like that.

He wasn’t that trusting, though. Jason took the information that Bruce emailed him and did his own legwork. He wasn’t stubborn enough to bother redoing digital work that Bruce had done or gotten from Babs. That would be a waste of his time, and he valued his time. But he scoped out the cult’s meeting place.

Of all the undignified things, it was a rented room in the community center. Jason found himself sheepishly breaking into the office to check on the reservation and poking around the room itself.

There was nothing special about it. It was a shitty room with shitty paneled walls and cheap, well-trodden grey carpet. It boasted a few too many tables, arranged in a U shape, and a whiteboard pushed up against the wall that hadn’t been cleaned off well enough to erase what he was pretty sure was a reference to their lord and savior, destroyed of worlds.

So. That was a point for Bruce’s cult thing.

He hadn’t really doubted it, if he was honest, given that this had originated in a tip from Zatanna. She had told him as a courtesy that some creep had moved their base of recruiting and operations into Gotham.

Apparently, recruitment was going pretty well. The room could seat like, twenty? Jason counted chairs and left.

He came back on Wednesday at 8pm with the Batman and an attempt at a good attitude. He probably wasn’t going to need any of the weapons on his person. They were going to check in so that this guy knew they had an eye on him and that he would be suspect number one if there was any hint of people or cats being sacrificed.

Bruce fucked off to peer in the windows, like the giant caped creep he was. Jason took the front door, nodded congenially at the old man in the office, and knocked at the room the cultists had reserved.

He could hear Bruce internally curse through the comm. It was silent, of course, but the quality of the silence changed. “Knock knock,” he called, since a literal knock hadn’t done it. He opened the door without waiting. “Just checking in, heard you’re new to town and that you tried to feed Zatanna’s shitty little cousin to the god of Death?”

The room stared at him. A whiteboard marker squeaked to a stop. He idly followed the sound to the board. A …. Huh. that looked like some kind of mystical bullshit.

“You’ve been touched by death,” said the fraud himself, a man in his fifties with a wildly pretentious robe that was wrinkled from the paper bag he’d clearly used to carry it in. He outstretched the hand that didn’t have a blue whiteboard marker in it. “You would be a perfect sacrifice to our Lord.”

“So will it be,” said about half the people there, at the same time a young woman said, “No shit?” in an impressed tone.

Jason rolled his eyes through the helmet, unintimidated by the room of weirdos standing up. The kind of people who gathered at a community center on a Wednesday night were not going to summon the God of Death. Light glinted off the window where Batman was clearly weighing the possibility of breaking glass and swinging in. Jason silently waved him off with a headshake. They weren’t to the point of property damage yet. He took a couple of steps into the room with deliberate swagger. “What a lucky guess,” he drawled. “The Red Hood has had brushes with death? No one but a legitimate prophet could possibly make such a statement.”

“I’m not a prophet,” said the man, and turned back to his white board. “I’m a devote.” He rubbed out a line with the meat of his hand and then hurriedly wrote in ‘The Red Hood’ in a tilted cursive. “The sacrifice!” he shouted, throwing his arms wide and accidentally making a big blue line through his evil little sigil or whatever it was. The elderly lady to Jason’s right opened up her bag, thrust her hand in, and came up with a fistful of -

“Salt?” Jason asked, confused and unimpressed as the silly twit threw her handful of salt at him. “Thanks, I’m better seasoned now,” he snarked. He pulled out a gun easily. “Alright, let’s get serious. I-”

The whiteboard was glowing. The blue letters were glowing green.

“What the fuck?” Jason said. The windows exploded with broken glass as Batman decided now was the time to make his entrance. He barely got to see it before something hooked unpleasantly on his body and soul and twisted it sideways.

The world was green now. Holy shit. Jason spun a circle on uneven ground and gaped. “...Egg on my face,” he said. “I’ve been sacrificed. Consider me embarrassed.” A quick check showed that his comm was useless. It was giving off a steady little eeee of static that kinda sounded like screams. Whimsical. Jason turned it off.

He wasn’t panicking yet. The void wasn’t that freaky. It was weird, sure, but there weren’t any demons or enemies. He flicked the safety off his favorite gun just in case and frowned into the darkness.

It was like he was standing under a spotlight with no light source. There was ambient lighting in all directions, but the world faded into darkness only a few dozen feet away. He took some experimental steps to determine that, yeah, the field of visibility traveled with him.

Well. Time to get moving. Jason walked. There was nothing for the first - hour, he was gonna call it an hour. He got antsy and started jogging. The green stretched on, placid and infinite in a way that was really starting to piss him off. “Hey!” Jason barked into the void. “Anyone there?”

There was an answering electronic whirr. He stopped in his tracks. Jason looked in every direction, including up, and only saw the fucking thing when it was basically on top of him.

The vehicle was probably most equivalent to a spaceship, he decided, as what was probably a 3-man craft at most parked. The top clicked. It opened from the top and someone bounded out. “Hey!” came an annoyed male voice. “What’s the deal, bud?” The stranger landed in front of Jason with crossed arms and a pissy expression. His white hair floated above his head as if he was the little fucking mermaid in the ocean.

Jason scowled, the back of his mind cataloging the other guy’s outfit as pristine and undamaged and his musculature as athletic. “What’s it to you?” he asked, defensive. He didn’t know if it was safe to give information to this guy. “I might be a little lost,” Jason conceded.

“A little lost,” the guy repeated, and then- okay, he flew in a weird little flippy circle, scowling all the while as Jason gaped. “A little lost.” He scoffed. Then he let out a sigh that made his whole body look smaller. He uncrossed his arms and ran a hand through his hair. “This is a weird question,” he said, making it sound more defensive than apologetic. “Did you uh.” He scowled, like the words were distasteful. “Look,” he tried again. “Are you delulu, or did you get caught up as the sacrificial bride? I told Frank to knock that shit off.”

Sacrificial bride. Jason felt his brain go offline for a moment. Say what now.

“Helloooo,” the… was this rando a god of death? He was impatient. He flew way up into Jason’s personal space and snapped his fingers. “Someone just smashed metal trash bins together at my grave to get my attention, basically. No, it’s more like one of those spam pop ups that says there’s hot girls in your area?” He made a gesture at Jason. “Only it’s loud. It’s ringing in my ears, and I had to come track you down. Do you think this is funny?”

“...Sacrificial bride?” Jason finally managed to croak out.

Weirdly, this made the other guy relax immediately. “Just found out, huh,” he said, sounding much more sympathetic. “Yeah, okay, we need to sort out a spiritual divorce immediately. And then you can go home and there will be no more hot girls in my area and I can get back to my ess- my work.”

Jason took a few moments of grief and confusion to accept his apparent status. “We’re married?” he said weakly.

The white haired man looked a little sheepish. “Marriage is probably not quite accurate,” he said, and Jason felt a little bit of relief before the guy continued, “It’s more like you’re my concubine?” He sounded mortified by this. “I didn’t want this!”

“No, no,” Jason said, meaning both that he believed it and that he needed this conversation to change directions immediately. “I- who are you?” He gestured at his– what the fuck was the other side of a concubine relationship? King was the associated word that came up, but that…

“I’m nobody, really,” said the white haired man weakly. “But I may technically be King of ghosts or whatever. The Infinite Realms.” He scratched at his face. “So… yeah.”

They stood in utterly mortified silence for a long moment before he seemed to remember something. “You can call me Danny,” he offered.

“...Call me Jason,” he said.

“Thanks, Jason,” Danny said genially. “So, uh, this is a mess, right?” He started floating away backwards. “I’m going to hunt down my mentor and advisor and get some uh- advice, I guess. Do you wanna come with? Or should I come back and check in once I’ve heard from him?”

Jason weighed up his situation, the conventional wisdom about getting in vehicles with strange men, and wondered how useless his gun was going to be in this situation. Danny had never reacted to it being pointed at him, so his guess was ‘utterly unhelpful’. He put it away. “I’d like a ride, thanks,” he said dryly.

They made some stilted conversation on the ride. Danny was clearly trying to hold back and give him no identifying information. That was fascinating, because it implied that there was something Jason could do from the human world to track Danny down. It was also reassuring because there was no reason to withhold information if he’d planned to keep Jason prisoner, so, ya know, that was a good sign.

Anyway, Jason got a lot of information from Danny.

Danny was a terrible liar and he misspoke like, all the time. Jason was pretty sure he was in the ghost equivalent of school, like college or something. He talked like someone in Jason’s age group would, so he’d probably died very recently. Maybe he had been a college student when he’d died and he just hadn’t given up on that degree yet, honestly. Jason managed to drag the conversation around to education. He got nowhere with asking about literature but he hit the jackpot with science. Danny was still babbling about a telescope when he landed the …ship outside of a wonky clocktower.

Jason took off his safety belt and froze in his tracks when Danny absently stopped him with a cool hand. Jason looked down at that hand.

“You had better stay here,” Danny said. He shook his head slightly. “Clocky doesn’t like everyone.”

He melted into the chair as if he had never wanted to get up. “Alright,” Jason said.

Danny was out of the spaceship by the time that Jason realized something was very wrong with that interaction.

He hadn’t decided to sit down. He hadn’t wanted to sit back down. Did- did he actually think it was reasonable to stay behind, or would he have argued and gone in normally?

‘...I think Danny did something.’ Suspicion swirled in his gut. Jason tried to take the safety belt off and stand up. He couldn’t. It was like his muscles wouldn’t respond to it.

Well, that was pretty fuckin’ evil. His pulse picked up in his throat. It… It was some kind of compulsion? He had to do what Danny told him to do? That was really fucked up. He was starting to feel really unsafe now. He wished he’d hung back with Bruce. He wanted someone to bring him home. And weirdly, he felt betrayed. He hardly trusted Danny, didn’t know the fucker well enough to, but he hadn’t gotten that impression off the guy–

‘It wasn’t him,’ Jason realized. ‘It was the binding ritual. Danny said it wasn’t like a marriage, it’s not equal. That’s why I did what Danny wanted me to do.’

Well. Well then. If Danny didn’t know that Jason had to follow his orders, Jason was most fucking certainly not going to spell it out for him. It was a grim calculation to make, but it seemed the safest. As it was, Danny seemed to want to get rid of him as fast as possible.

So that was it. He’d play along and get Danny to spit him back out into Gotham, a young hot divorcé free on the streets.

#red hot ghouls #jason todd #dcdp #deadonmain #dp x dc

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starringp1 · 1 month

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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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answer2jeff · 9 months

Text

this you knew.

warnings : (workplace) established but private relationship. fluff. that's about it actually.

also, this mostly just weirdly poetic and emotional writing. not a lot of plot or substance. sorry!

a/n: carmen refers to reader as "pico," short for "piccola" (small), and reader refers to carmen as raga, short for "ragazzone," (big boy) sorry if these nicknames are cringe they're cute to me !!!!

Fuck, it was cold.

Why did winter have to stretch out for such an excruciating amount of time? It had been snowing since late November—which, at this rate, might continue until March, give or take.

The holidays had just passed, stores were back open, The Bear was back under maintenance, leisure was nonexistent. There was no need for slush on the sidewalks and frost on your car window. You'd already spent the holidays with your extended family, even after swearing up and down you had no intention on coming home this year. Anything remotely related to that mistake needed to be disposed of.

Tonight was calm. Almost too calm. Richie and Marcus were still laying out the general foundation of the dining hall, and Carmen finally beat his record timing for passing through each station of the kitchen marked by green tape. You were pretty much free to go home. Especially since Sydney was the first to leave and encouraged you to do the same.

But just as you walked out of the empty kitchen space through the back door, something urged you to walk back in.

Just act like you forgot something.

Quickly swinging the door open and turning the corner into Natalie's office, where you knew Carmen would be, you stopped. Just barely near the frame.

Altered by your presence, Carmen snapped out of the trance that was staring at the empty space of the wall in front of him. He spun around in the 5-wheeled chair to face you.

"Raga?" you called out, not wanting to intrude as you stepped into the box of the office. Despite the door being wide open like it always was.

Raga. Sure, he wasn't a huge fan of petnames—but it made him feel like he was yours.

And he was. And you were his. Possibly for months now. And you even started to feel it. The word "boyfriend," though it wasn't used religiously, didn't feel bitter in your mouth. The way your name rolled off of Carmen's tongue was addictive to him. He preferred it over a simple 'she' when he spoke of you. You were chaos, but grace all in one.

You told your closest friends about a week after he spoke the words

"I don't really know what I'm doing, but that's—that's okay. It's more than okay. I want this."

But you hadn't told your family, and not even your true, chosen one. Which was here, in this restaurant, and everyone who played a part in it. But perhaps they already knew. Neither you or Carmen were particularly good at keeping secretes.

Just because your mouth stopped, didn't mean your body language or your face did.

Smiles and glances, whispers in corners of the restaurant incoherent to anyone else, his kisses against your temples that weren't as discreet as he hoped, it made it obvious.

But it felt right. This was okay. More than okay.

"Pico?" he repeated, mirroring that same skeptical voice you used just seconds earlier.

Eyebrows knitted with concern, your teeth gnawing at the inside of your cheek, you stood with your weight on your hip and your arms crossed against your chest. Carmen realized you stood like this all the time. But right now, he almost felt like he was in some kind of trouble; the way you eyed him above his level. Like you'd been looking for him and he failed to come to your assistance.

His urge to cave and melt into you was overwhelming. Big, blue eyes peered up at you as he leaned forward, prepared to listen. You only smiled while shrugging your shoulders and leaning against the doorframe.

"Think everybody went home. I didn't really see y'leave. Just—" you swallowed, "—wondered if you'd left or not."

That seemed to finally be enough to soothe him. You just wanted to know if he was here; if he was okay and ready to go home like he should've been.

"Uh—yeah, yeah, I'm still here."

"Yeah, I see that now."

The room stilled. Silence bounced off the drywall. But it was comfortable. It wasn't forced or unwanted. Just simple. And simplicity was scarce at the moment.

"C'mere," Carmen mumbled as he motioned his hand to signal you to come in, his voice barely audible, "just for a 'sec."

Caving in, his cadence and the look in his eyes being enough to convince you, you stepped in. He blinked slowly so as to not miss a single bit of you. For once, you could appreciate the slow of time in this room.

"I'm feeling really good about this," you smiled down at him, "this whole thing, I mean. Mikey woulda' been so proud 'f you, Carmen."

The lump in his throat was harshly swallowed back down as he nodded his head, not quite smiling, but not frowning either. You knew that face all too well. It was the face of guilt. He always wondered if he'd been doing the right thing. Lately it'd been easier to convince himself that the renovation was right, and that he was completely and fully capable of making these "adult decisions," as you called them.

"Thank you."

It was mostly thanks to you, though.

A delicate hand reached for a curl that fell just past his eyebrow. You wrapped the blonde strands around your finger, glancing from his eyes and back to his hair, just to see if he'd been watching you as closely as you hoped. Almost as if it had been second nature, he tilted his head up for easier access as you pulled away from his hair and reached to cup his clean-shaven cheek.

"I mean it, bear," your thumb gently caressed his skin as you spoke. He looked up at you as if he'd just found God in your eyes.

"I know," he tried to protest, giving you a weak smile and threatening to pull his head away.

But he waited.

There'd never been anyone in the universe, on the planet, in the country, in the culinary industry, in this city, or in this restaurant who saw through you the way Carmen Berzatto did. He'd been your head chef even before what was then, The Beef. You followed him back to his home city even months after the two of you made a pact to quit your last job as his sous, and his as your head chef. There was nothing you wanted more than to see him chase his stardom.

You loved him. This you knew.

"You're better at what you do than you'll ever give yourself credit for."

This he knew. At least now he did.

You took him in again with one look. His little moles here and there, his blue eyes, the rose of his cheeks. And at a moments notice, you leaned down to kiss him like it was the last thing you'd ever do. Carmen rose without even letting your lips separate. His hand planted itself at your waist as the other held the back of your head and gently buried itself into your hair. He tasted like cigarettes and mint with a hint of that bitter and filmy residue left on pill capsules.

He loved you. This you knew.

"Maybe you should give yourself some credit, too."

This you knew.

#carmen berzatto #idk what this is #it's mostly just poetic emotional writing #not a lot of substance #but this is just how I write #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto x reader #ughhh this kinda love will always be the death of me #carmy berzatto #the bear

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loganwritesprobably · 2 months

Text

Save Me

Law & Reader fic for anon for my 200 followers event

Content/Warnings: Law & GN!Reader, angst, Law doing doctor things, reader struggles with mental health, inspired by how to save a life by The Fray

"Hey, make some time to come to my office today." Law told you in passing when you were leaving breakfast, and he was just arriving. What? That was a little ominous, but you just nodded and continued on your way. You had things to do, maintenance around the tang, so you set about your tasks. Law's words rang in the back of your mind for the rest of the day, haunting you while you tried to focus.

Around lunch time, you knew you needed to go see him, because if you didn't you'd just be distracted, unable to work as his words were all you could think about. A dozen possibilities circulated in your mind, but you couldn't guess what it was he wanted to discuss.

You knocked gently on the door to his office, and when there was no response indicating whether you could or couldn't enter, you slowly opened the door and peeked your head through to see Law sitting at his desk and working on papers. "You wanted to see me?" You said, hesitating there in the doorway. "Oh yes, come in and just sit down." Law said, quickly shuffling his papers together and off to the side of his desk. You did as he asked, pausing before you sat in the chair opposite him rather than on the examination table. Now this was really odd. "What was it you needed, Captain?" You asked after a brief, awkward silence. "I just wanted to talk to you about some.. things you've said recently." You said a lot of things, so that wasn't particularly helpful, but it was something at least. You had a brief flash of concern when for just a moment you thought maybe you'd upset someone on the crew, which was of course the last thing you would ever want to do.

"Everyone is worried about you." Law said, and all the air rushed from your body. Oh. Now you understood. At least you knew what was happening now. "Oh. Okay.." You trailed off, unsure of what he wanted you to say to that. Clearly, Law wasn't too sure what he wanted to say either. He knew the conversation was important, and apparently was needed, but he just didn't know how to do it. Silence followed where the two of you sat, fidgeting, uncomfortable but with no words to share.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Captain." You said, hoping to prompt.. something. Anything really. "You know we all care about you, right? We'd miss you if you were gone." The words left Law in a rush, as if he needed to force them out, and you weren't surprised that it felt like that. You all knew he cared about you sure, but he wasn't often verbally affectionate. "I know Cap. Logically.. I know." "But that doesn't make a difference." Law finished, a knowing expression on his face. As if he'd experienced something like that before. "Yeah." You agreed, voice just a whisper. That was exactly it. Sometimes it didn't matter how much you knew that the crew cared for you, because the voice in your head would whisper that they didn't really, that they were only pretending. It was exhausting both to listen and to ignore it.

"You know if there was more I could do for you, I would. If you would talk to me I could.. prescribe you something? It might help." Law offered tentatively, but you just shook your head. You really didn't like the idea of being medicated. It wasn't something that you wanted, unless necessary. "And isolating yourself isn't a solution - don't think we don't see you doing it. It makes you worse, and I think you know that too." You looked down at your feet with a sigh, not giving him a response. Of course you knew, but it just wasn't that easy. But then, he knew that too. Law had been through the ringer, he understood if nobody else did.

"I want help, Cap." You whispered, and Law rounded his desk to pull you to his chest. Law was prone to small, casual acts of physical touch like patting someone's back or leaning against them - but a hug was special. You embraced him in return, clutching at him like he was a lifeline. "I've got you. I'm here."

Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @cainnoable

#one piece #fanfic #writing #reader insert #loganwritesficlets #loganwrites200 #loganwritesrequests #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #one piece law #law x reader

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oneforthemunny · 4 months

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the apple blurb from the crypt (funsonmunson february 2023 lol) <33 finally recovered and being added to the masterlist for all the janitor!eddie x teacher!reader lovers.

janitor!eddie is always leaving an apple on teacher!reader’s desk every morning.

he gets there early before her to do some extra maintenance- the school had given him a raise to do both so they wouldn’t have to hire someone else. it started as a joke between you two. eddie grinned when you’d brought an apple to lunch one day, playful glint in his eye. “an apple a day, huh?” he asked.

steve snorted. “that’s a doctor, munson.” he rolled his eyes.

you shrugged, biting into your apple. “I like apples, ok?” you giggled. “guess I was made to be a teacher, huh? the stereotype doin’ it for you?”

eddie couldn’t stop smiling. so every day, when he’d stop at the gas station by the trailer park, he’d get his usual pack of camels and an apple. he’d place it on your desk, scribbling on a spare piece of paper a little note that left you blushing when you’d find it.

he’d pass by your classroom, catching your eyes when you’d see him, smiling and nodding towards your apple. later, when he’d take you out, you’d kiss him sweetly on the cheek. “thanks for the apple.” you’d mutter. “it was delicious.” you’d let your bottom lip graze over his cheek, sending a hot blush down his neck and cheeks.

eddie wanted that reaction always, so he’d bring you apple after apple, proudly propping them on your desk each day with a little note.

‘you’re the apple of my eye, sweetheart. have a good day. -ed’

you’d giggle, tucking them into your purse. you’d saved everyone, reading them later when you missed him, heart fluttering in your chest.

one day, eddie walks into his ‘office’- a storage closet with a chair and an old desk, a rack to hang his jacket. there where he put his lunch pail was a small tin of hand balm, ‘for working hands’ it read.

eddie’s heart swelled. he’d complained about the blisters and callouses from working at the school mixed with his guitar making his hands rough, the cold cracking them and making them bleed. when he held his hand in yours, you’d ran a finger over the cracked, raw skin with a sympathetic pout.

eddie picked up the tin, the best folded card on top reading:

‘a little of this cream keeps the callouses away (or that’s what the store clerk told me). hope this helps you my hard working man. xoxo’

eddie slipped it into his front pocket, a dopey grin on his face. he dug his fingers into the balmy substance, rubbing it over his hands before reaching into his lunch pail, grabbing the shiny, red apple out and starting towards your class room.

#oneforthemunny #munnytalks #funsonmunson #janitor!eddie munson #eddie munson au #eddie munson #janitor!eddie #janitor!eddie munson x teacher!reader #eddie munson blurb #oneforthemunny blurbs #eddie x fem!reader #eddie stranger things #eddie my love <3 #eddie x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you

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jeyneofpoole · 2 months

Text

right now barbrey is in the manager’s office sitting in roose’s chair blasting [LOFI BEATS TO STUDY AND CHILL TO ☆*:.｡.:*☆] with her tiny bluetooth speaker that domeric dropped in his jank splash pad in her front yard when he was three and now everything comes out bass-boosted and crackly from water damage to drown out the sound of theon banging on the walk-in freezer door from the inside because ramsay locked him in there after theon refused to smoke his laced weed in walda’s new minivan that ramsay hotwired and drove to work while she was getting her bimonthly perm. barb’ll let him out when she needs to thaw burger patties but that might be a while because she has been entranced by the lofi snare she likes the irregularity and abrasiveness of the lofi snare it’s calming to her. she wipes a single tear away. domeric would’ve loved the lofi snare. theon has lost two fingers to frostbite. he doesn’t get to take a lunch because he’s wasted so much company time locked inside the walk-in. ramsay has been punching him out three hours early every day for the last month. he makes two fifty an hour. he allots half of that for his novelty lighter collection fund and the other half for bleach (frosted tip maintenance). this is the best day he’s had in months.

#goodnight and god bless #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #theon greyjoy #barbrey dustin #ramsay bolton #domeric bolton #walda frey #asoiaf strip mall

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hrwinter · 1 year

Note

lena is really *really* into the idea of fucking an alien

sometimes when lena is bored at her desk, on a conference call with the board, listening to her mother emasculate yet another yale-bred, early 20s nepotism hire in the hallway, her mind wanders. meanders, really. it's a lesson in imagination. a practice in her academic deductive reasoning. one of those exercises designed to fight dementia, she's inclined to believe. anyways, she wanders about what it would be like to fuck an alien.

don't be like that. it's not crass. it's a scientific pursuit.

for instance, would it be sexual or asexual reproduction? sexual reproduction would make more sense, and surely the universe is sensible. it would promote genetic diversity. and then, what kind? syngamy or conjugation? fertilization was the most common in multicellular sexual populations, lena has often reasoned. (see, this isn't horny. many of these words put you right to sleep, didn't they?) then there's the types of syngamy, of course: isogamy, heterogamy, and oogamy. but she doesn't really need to get into gametes here. size, number, maintenance. the question she's pondering while jess is listing off her jampacked schedule is how different would an alien's physiology end up being, sexually speaking? would they feel pleasure? that wasn't common on earth. how would fertilization work? penetration? on all fours, perhaps?

hm. or would none of that even matter? would it be purely for the experience of interspecies connection? of finding common ground with a creature so distinct from you, it could almost be argued as a matter of say, quantum entanglement. no matter how many stars separated you, here you were. touching. looking. intertwining. two materials from totally different galaxies, the products of millions of years of formation, evolution, coming, coming together as one.

"mrs. luthor?" the tentative voice of her assistant rings out.

lena drops her pen to her desk. she'd been absentmindedly doodling. it's the super crest.

hm.

"kara danvers is here to see you."

"send her up," lena replies, careful in her tone, swiveling her chair towards the blinding windows of her office. up towards the sky, the heavens and far beyond.

if only someone, someone she knew personally, an alien, would be so inclined as to humor her questions. or even a physical demonstration, perhaps? was that really so hard?

#supercorp #fanfic prompt #ficlet #hr's askhole #ive had this ask for four years #i don't know why i kept it so long #it would always make me laugh #I was never sure if it was a prompt or just a fact anon wanted me to know #like #I know anon #-I- know

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gravehags · 5 months

Text

unholy, unholy, unholy

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: the ministry being the catholic church's evil twin, manipulation, masturbation, confession, copia lowkey being a desperate little sex freak my beloved

Words: 5,153

Summary: You really walked right into this, you tell yourself. You can't even be mad at Copia for suggesting it.

a/n: can't believe the last thing i wrote for these losers was at christmas...damn. anyway you know how i like my non-chronological shit so this takes place somewhere in between take me apart and satan baby. i'm not done making these two dance around their feelings just yet.

divider by @gothdaddyissues!

“Jesus fucking Christ Almighty.”

You slam your office door shut with your hip and Cardinal Copia turns to look at you from his seat.

“Need help?”

With a grunt and a shake of your head you walk past him and set the bag of food down on your desk, heaving a deep sigh.

“Had to go on a fucking scavenger hunt because the goddamn DoorDash driver left the bag with a maintenance worker, who gave it to one of Terzo’s ghouls, who left it in a stairwell for some reason…don’t ask me how I managed to find it because fuck if I know.”

Dramatically you flop into your desk chair and give your lunch companion a look as he begins to sort out your meals with a smile.

“You know you eh…take the Lord’s name in vain quite a bit for someone who wasn’t raised in religion.”

When he passes your container of Pad see ew to you, you grin.

“Ehhh you know, the perils of being raised in a predominantly Christian society. It’s funny, the first time I said ‘Jesus Christ’ I was maybe…I don’t know nine? Ten? And my mom tersely told me ‘don’t say that’ to which I replied ‘why not?’ I don’t think she knew how to answer that question in a way that would make me care, you know? I had gone all my little life not giving a shit about Jesus, why would I now?”

Copia chuckles and cracks open his own takeaway box.

“Ah cara, you continue to stray further and further from God’s light every day. Thank Sathanas for that, hmm?”

With a smile, you clink your soda can against his and dig into your meal.

“You ever think about how fascinating your religion is, Copia?”

You prop your feet up on your desk as Copia delicately picks noodles out of his box with chopsticks.

“Eh, how do you mean?”

“Like…you’re a Satanic cardinal. You’ve sworn your life to uphold the tenets of Satanism. You…we live at a massive complex dedicated to Satan. One of many complexes throughout the world, apparently. And yet, barely anyone knows of the Ministry’s existence. It’s wild, really.”

He makes a thoughtful noise as he chews on a particularly crunchy piece of bok choy.

“Ah, well,” he begins, setting his chopsticks down and reaching for the soda resting on the desk, “we’re trying to change that. In…subtle ways.”

“Mmm, the Ghost project.”

“Sì, the idea is we use Papa to spread our message through music - something that is accessible to many people.”

“With the hopes that you and your evil brethren can dominate the globe?” you say, scrunching your nose playfully and giving him a big wink.

“Something like that,” he smiles wryly.

“Well I’ve listened to some of the project’s music and I gotta say…big fan. I think your sinister subliminal messaging is working on me.”

“Oh?” he asks, setting down his food in order to cross his legs and give you a curious stare. “Tell me more, cara. Do I have a future sister of sin on my hands?”

You close your eyes and laugh, missing the hungry way the Cardinal watches the line of your throat as your head tilts back.

“Maybe…let’s just say I’m intrigued. How could I not be when I’m surrounded by it all the time?”

He nods, resting a gloved hand on his knee and straightening his cassock.

“Perhaps…”

You fix him with a look you know will make him lose his train of thought for a moment. Positively wicked.

“Perhaps…?”

“Perhaps,” he clears his throat, eyes darting away from yours, “you would like to attend one of our services?”

You nod gamely.

“Is a super cool and hip youth pastor going to tell me about the ways the Devil cares about me unconditionally?”

He rolls his eyes and fixes you with an unamused stare.

“Very funny, dolcezza. Would you prefer that I have you sit with Papa Nihil while he explains the history of the Emeritus bloodline?”

You balk. The wizened Papa had a distinct dislike of you for some odd reason. You often wonder how he manages to give you such dirty looks through his cloudy eyes. You didn’t particularly care, however, as you saw the way he constantly brushed off and mistreated Copia during staff meetings. Nihil irked you to no end, no matter how much Sister Imperator liked him.

“Alright, fine, sorry. I only jest to get a rise out of you, I know how important your religion is to you. And hey, anything that has the drama and aesthetics of the Catholic Church without all the guilt and trauma has my full attention. Please don’t be mad.”

He grunts but you see the way his mustache twitches as he fights back a smile. You flutter your eyelashes a little and in a moment of boldness, take your lower lip between your teeth. The way his mismatched eyes dart to your mouth and his jaw hangs open makes you giddy.

“I’m–,” his voice comes out as a hoarse rasp, “I forgive you, cara.”

“Thank you for absolving me of my sins, Your Eminence.”

He has to know you’re doing this on purpose at this point. You’re not sure what has gotten into you today but something about the way he stares at you now makes you want to grab him by his pellegrina and haul him over your desk for a sloppy kiss. There’s a heavy tension between the two of you, not for the first time, as if all one of you needs to do is take a step forward and all hell would break loose.

“So, you want me to go to a service? What like black mass? Unholy baptism? Virgin sacrifice?”

The spell is broken and briefly your swagger flickers, wondering if you’ve crossed a line.

“Eh, maybe someday but your statement about sin made me think…perhaps confession would be more suited to you?”

Now your jaw falls open and you can feel your cheeks light up as he watches you with a smirk toying at the corners of his mouth. The tables have turned and now you’re the one left speechless.

“O-oh?” you ask, voice a little higher than normal, “so if Catholic confession is about getting your sins forgiven, then Satanic confession is…having your sins…celebrated?”

“Corretto,” he says with a generous nod, “we’ll go through each one in ah…intimate detail.”

“We?” you squeak out, stomach dropping severely, “I hadn’t realized that you would be presiding.”

“Oh sì,” he says, the smirk on his face positively devilish, “although if you’d prefer someone else…”

“No,” you say just a little too quickly, your heart pounding, “I…I don’t know how much sinning I really get up to. I’ll probably bore you to tears.”

“You might be surprised, dolcezza,” Christ the nickname sounds devious on his lips right now, “What is it they say? ‘Still waters run deep’?”

Your laugh comes out just a little too loud and unnatural and you kick yourself.

“Ha…right. We…we should probably get back to this cataloging or Sister Imperator is going to publicly execute me.”

The rest of the afternoon proceeds normally, with the two of you diligently organizing the abbey’s collection of illuminated manuscripts. When you finally part, he gives you the date, time, and directions to the chapel where the confession booth is located.

“Cara,” he murmurs as you begin to walk away, “you don’t have to do this.”

You give him a half-smile and shake your head.

“I think it will be good for me,” you say, hands behind your back as you rock onto your heels, “and besides, how could I say no to spending an evening with you?”

You make sure not to turn away until you see the full breadth of his dazed expression and by the time your back is to him and you’re walking away, there’s a loopy grin on your face. It’s not til you turn the corner and reach the staircase to your quarters the full realization of what you’ve agreed to dawns upon you.

Oh fuck.

You don’t see Copia the next two days between his duties and your own and for that you’re extremely thankful. The date of your confession has arrived and you’re equal parts nauseated and exhilarated. Having never gone to confession of any sort before, you’re not entirely sure what to expect. You’re not ignorant - you’ve seen confession scenes in the media and have heard from friends raised in Catholicism - but what little you do know doesn’t assuage your anxiety. This was Satanic confession. A whole different beast. Your mind conjures images of blood rituals and sacrifices and being on your knees before Copia…his gloved hand tilting your chin upwards to look at him…

Christ Almighty, get your shit together.

You desperately try to, as you sternly told yourself, get your shit together but your mind is clouded the rest of your workday with positively sinful scenes of the two of you. You’re particularly fond of the one where he’s got you in his office, your skirt hiked up over your hips as you bend over his desk and he pushes himself inside you from behind. The thought of his voice in your head, calling you his sweet little nicknames as he fucks into you, makes you practically drip. The final two hours in your office are torture before you’re able to skitter back to your rooms. You’re not meeting with Copia for another few hours and you need to do something about the ache between your thighs. Impatiently, you fumble for the buttons on your blouse with one hand while pushing your skirt off with another. You must look a sight, ripping your bra off and flinging it somewhere on the floor, but all you can think about now is getting to your bed. You almost trip twice in the journey to your room, blindly stumbling over and flinging yourself on the mattress. What has gotten into you? You’ve been horny before, about Copia sure, but this? The way you’re practically whining when your hands meet your bare breasts? You feel positively feral.

“Copia,” you breathe, fingers pinching at your nipples. You imagine his hands on you, the way the leather would warm as he strokes your soft skin.

Dolcezza.

Fuck, you can hear it perfectly and it makes you sigh, one of your hands slowly sliding down your body to cup the heat of you. You’re sopping and time feels like it slows as you spread yourself open and slide two fingers against your engorged clit. All of your frantic rushing from earlier ceases as you twitch under your own touch, his name on your lips. You’re so sensitive right now it barely takes anything to bring you over the edge, but, you think as your orgasm wanes, it’s not quite enough. Taking a slow exhale in you slip your fingers lower and tease at your entrance. The digits glide in easily enough with the abundance of slick coming from you and languorously you begin to pump them in and out. Your eyes slide shut and you imagine it’s his dexterous fingers instead, curling inside you so you can feel every stitch and groove of his glove.

Cara mia, he’d murmur into your ear, so wet for me. So sweet for your Cardinal, eh? You honor me.

The whimpers crawling out of your mouth are getting more frequent and higher in pitch - you know you’re close. You bring your palm flat against yourself to push on your clit as your hips continue to make little circles, driving your fingers deeper in. Your hand is aching but it doesn’t stop you from pulling another orgasm out of yourself, chanting his name. Tears pool in your eyes and slide down your temples as you sob aloud and all of a sudden it’s too much. Your body spasms on the duvet, breath coming in harsh pants as you attempt to slow the thundering of your heart. It’s not the first time you’ve touched yourself to the thought of him, by any means, but something feels…different. More charged. You’re exhausted, bone tired as you try to organize your feelings. Reaching a hand up to rub your face you turn over and look at the clock.

5:32 PM

Your eyelids are heavy but you manage to lean over the side of your bed and locate your phone to set an alarm. Some sleep would do you good. Clear your head.

You don’t dream.

—------

Cazzo, cazzo, cazzo.

Copia paces back and forth in the small, dimly lit (romantically lit, some would say) chapel. The last sibling of the evening just left and now all that remains is…you. He barely heard what the siblings were telling him this evening, so anxious was he and caught up in the thought of you soon being in their position. More than once his vision went blurry as he imagined you a breath away, separated only by the decorative wooden screen.

He was so eager for you to walk through that door, now he’s not sure. With a heavy sigh through his nose he looks down at his watch.

6:58 PM

You’re always punctual and he counts on tonight being no different. Resigned to his fate, he shuffles over to the confession booth and opens the door, slotting himself inside. Shit, his ass hurts from the hard bench, why in fuck’s name had they not added a cushion to this side like there was on the other? He’s grumbling to himself in Italian when he hears the chapel door squeak open and firmly shut. Your soft footsteps approach - you must be wearing your sneakers and not your boots for the distinct clacking sound he usually hears from you has vanished. He sucks in a breath when he hears you open your side of the booth and quietly shut it. There’s a silence between the two of you so profound that when you finally speak he jumps.

“Hey. You’re in there right?”

He makes a loud, vague noise and sees your shoulders drop through the screen. He can’t get a read on your expression but the anxiety in the air has softened with your posture.

“Good evening,” he begins, a little stiffly. “Eh, welcome.”

You breathe out heavy through your nose.

“Copia, is this a good idea?”

He pauses and looks down to pull at a loose thread on his cuff.

“Are…are you nervous, cara?”

You let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh.

“Yeah, I’m fucking nervous! I’ve never even been to a regular confession let alone…this.”

“Well, we begin with the ceremonial bloodletting and–”

“Oh fuck off,” you grouse, flicking the screen that separates you. You fall silent after a moment.

“Cara, are you truly that anxious? Because we don’t have to do any–”

“I’m fine, Copia. Really. I don’t know why I'm so worked up. Fear of the unknown, I suppose,” you clear your throat and hears you crack your neck.

“Bene. Shall I go over the process with you? And remember this is a celebration. No shaming. No guilt. No wrong answers.”

You take a deep breath in and he sees you nod.

“I will start with the blessing and then we will go through the seven cardinal sins one by one. You may describe yours as briefly or lengthy as you like and we will venerate them. Once we have finished, I will close with a blessing. Then we will part. Nothing to be nervous about, eh? Are you ready?”

“Yes, please.”

“Very good,” he clears his throat and straightens his shoulders. “In nomine Padre, et Filio, et lo Spiritus Malum…we welcome this most sacred sinner into your embrace that she may revel in her transgressions against God.”

When he addresses you by name, he sees you jump.

“Let us begin with the Original Sin - pride.”

“Okay. Yeah. Pride.” There’s a few seconds of silence before he hears you softly curse. “Sorry, I should have made a list or something.”

“Take your time,” he says with a smile, simply content to be in your presence, “I have nowhere to be, cara. I am right here, ready when you are.”

He can see your eyelashes flutter as you look down and your cheeks bunch in a soft smile. Although mostly obscured, the sight still makes his heart soar. After a minute or so of silence you speak.

“Oh! Okay, uh pride. Well I was going to tell you about this anyway but…you know that little write-up I did of Satanic art in the time of the Counter-Reformation?”

“Naturalmente, it was superb.”

“Thank you. Well I thought it was too so I submitted it to a journal for publishing…and they accepted it.”

He can practically hear your grin and it makes him beam in return.

“Cara mia! Congratulazioni! You deserve nothing less! Although I hope you do not consider it a sin to rightfully celebrate an occasion such as this?”

You sigh.

“Ah, I don’t know. I may have bragged a bit too much to other people in the field. Felt a little too self-satisfied about it. So I think that would count, right?”

He scoffs.

“To Papa Frankie, maybe. To us it is a well-deserved acknowledgement of your hard work and something you have every right to be proud of. Dolcezza, even if you hesitate to celebrate yourself, know that I always will do so for you. Published in a journal, well done cara.”

He may not be able to see it in the low light of the confessional but he can picture your flushed cheeks perfectly in his mind.

“Anything else you would like to say on the matter?”

“No, that’s it.”

“Are you ready for the next?”

“Yes,” you say, with greater confidence, “let’s continue.”

“Onto the next. Envy.”

“Ah,” you seem to deflate a little and his brows knit together, “well about that. This…wow this is embarrassing.”

“No such thing as embarrassing at this moment. It’s a safe space, remember?”

“Right,” you huff, “okay well here it goes then. I see the sisters of sin every day walking around the corridors, working in the library, in the dining hall and…I envy them. I envy their bold confidence in their appearance and their sexuality.”

He’s silent for a moment, weighing whether or not he should say what he’s thinking. But you deserve to hear this.

“Confidence is not only represented by eh, wearing short skirts and high heels. I see you exude it every day when you’re bossing me around, no?”

You bark out a laugh and it lightens his heart.

“Truth be told,” he sighs, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I’m not the best person to be taking advice on confidence from. But I know how to recognize it and I see it in you.”

“Thank you,” you murmur so softly he thinks he might have made it up, “can we move on?”

“Si,” he says before clearing his throat, “next one is wrath.”

He hears you suck in a breath through your teeth.

“Oh, I’ve got a good one for this. Well…not good. It wasn’t my best moment. But it definitely fits the bill.”

He makes a noise prompting you to continue.

“You know that new painting that Sister Imperator got at auction? The one of Lilith and Faust? It arrived last week and she asked me to oversee its unboxing. I told all the siblings working with me that once the box was open the painting was to be handled with archival gloves. I had to step out of the room for a second to talk to the head librarian and when I came back…not a glove to be found and the painting was halfway out of its crate. Copia I…I lost my shit. You know me I-I don’t get mad. But the fact that they had disregarded my instruction and got their bare fingers on that canvas, then acted ignorant about the whole thing…Christ, Copia I saw red. I don’t even remember half of what I yelled at them. I had to walk out before I did something I would regret. God, I already regretted raising my voice. I didn’t report them to Sister Imperator but she found out somehow…maybe the librarian? I don’t know what their punishment was but I haven’t seen them since. Copia, it was awful. I was awful.”

“With good reason,” he replies promptly, “they should have respected your authority as a professional in the field and by not doing so not only did they potentially damage Ministry property, but they also embarrassed themselves. Idioti. Though I would have liked to have seen you all riled up.” A confession of his own - Sathanas would he have loved to see you flying at them like a demon, your claws sharp and your words sharper. The thought sends a shiver of arousal down his spine and he takes a moment to gather himself before speaking again.

“Is that all you wish to say?”

“Yes. Can we please move on?”

“Very well. Next is sloth.”

You’re silent for a moment and his heart sinks, hoping you’re not dwelling too much on your last confession. He opens his mouth to speak but you beat him to it.

“Sloth, yeah. I, uh,” you let out a giggle and he’s relieved to hear it, “none of these can get me in trouble with Sister Imperator, right?”

“No,” he says slowly, a grin curling his lips, “this is just between us.”

“Okay good. Do you remember a couple weeks back when I texted you that I wasn’t coming in because I was having a migraine?”

“Sì…”

“I was lying,” the words blurt out of you in a rush but you sound almost gleeful about it, “I was so fucking tired and so cozy in bed and it was raining outside…I just couldn’t do it. Stayed under the covers all day watching Ghost Adventures.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he playfully chides, and he can see your shoulders shake with laughter, “Signorina I am stunned. Horrified, even–”

“Oh it’s not that bad.”

“Horrified…that you didn’t tell me so I could join you. I love those ghost hunting shows.”

Your laugh makes him smile in return, “Next time we’ll play hooky together, I promise.”

He sighs deeply. “Please. I could use it.”

“I know,” you murmur, “no one in this abbey works as hard as you do.”

“Grazie, tesoro. I appreciate your kindness.”

You make a warm noise of affirmation before speaking, “What’s next?”

“Gluttony.”

“Oh Christ,” you cringe, head falling forward, “Maybe…about a month ago? Primo came by my rooms and handed me a Tupperware container of brownies. Told me to eat one per sitting with a sweet old man smile on his face. I’m not an idiot, I heard what he grows in the abbey gardens but my God the stink that came off of these things. I knew I was about to get my shit rocked. So I ate my designated brownie and just puttered around, cleaning up the kitchen. All of a sudden, I’m flat on the floor in front of my fan having an out of body experience. I don’t know how long I was lying there for but by the time I hauled myself up I was so hungry I thought I was losing it. Went through a box of cereal, a sleeve of Ritz crackers, and the next thing I knew I was in the papas’ kitchen making a bag of popcorn. Don’t remember getting there and don’t remember coming back up to my rooms but the next morning I was tucked in bed. So weird.”

He chuckles nervously as if he wasn’t the one to find you wandering the kitchens stoned out of your gourd and put you there.

“Ha yes…weird. That’s…that’s all you remember?”

“Mmhmm. Talk about the devil’s lettuce. Was pissed I didn’t have any cereal the next morning, though.”

“Let’s move onto the next, hmm?” He’s a little louder than necessary but you don’t question his suspicious behavior.

“Yeah sure. Hit me.”

“Eh, greed.”

“Hmm,” you ponder and he hears the back of your head thunk against the wood of the booth. “Damn, this is a hard one.”

“It usually is, funnily enough. You can always skip it, if you like.”

“No, no, no,” you say, leaning forward, “I’m trying to get the full set, let me cook.”

That actually makes him laugh out loud. How he adores you so.

“Greed, greed, greed,” you mutter to yourself, “Ah…greed would include covetousness, yeah?”

“Mmm, is there something or perhaps…someone you have been coveting?”

It’s a leading question and he knows this as he hears your breath quicken. It’s at this point in his fantasies where you confess your adoration for him, where he flees the confines of his side of the booth to fall to his knees before you and worship you as Sathanas intended. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he tastes the bitter tang of his paints which distracts him for a moment when he hears you say–

“Yes. There is someone.”

The silence is deafening between the two of you and his heart thuds against his ribcage, desperate for you reach over and tear it from his chest. He flexes his hands, the leather squeaking as the both of you sit with the words.

“O-oh?” he finally manages to stutter. He can see your eyes are shut and hears you loudly swallow.

“I, um,” you begin, “yeah. There is someone I’ve wanted for…a long time. I…I think he–I mean they–might reciprocate but…”

Tell her, you fool.

“Can we do the next one, actually?” your voice is so painfully soft and his stomach drops. She is doing you a kindness, his brain cruelly provides, by not telling you of who she truly wants. A sibling, perhaps. Or perhaps…one of your fratelli. The thought pains him so he nearly doubles over on himself as if being punched in the gut. Pride, envy, wrath, sloth, gluttony, greed.

Lust.

He’s startled by the sound of his own voice and you are too judging from the way you twitch. From his obscured view you look positively horrified, as if you had forgotten about this one.

“I haven’t been with anyone,” you blurt out, sounding both panicked and deeply embarrassed. He hardly recognizes his own voice as he responds with uncharacteristic calmness.

“Lustful acts…do not always have to involve another person.”

Now why the fuck would he say that? He can see your eyes widen and even in the dim light of the confessional he registers the violent blush on your cheeks.

“Oh I…oh.”

You raise a hand up to rub aggressively at your face, breathing deep.

“In that case, yes,” you finally say and his gut clenches, “I have indulged in the sin of lust.”

“A-about the person you covet?” He’s pushing it but he can’t help himself, can’t help the hope that simmers in his belly and makes his pants tighten.

“Mmm…mhmm,” you respond and you open your mouth to speak but hesitate. When you finally do, there’s a new tone to your voice - something low. Sensual.

“It’s…good. Fuck it’s good. When I think about them I-I go a little insane. I want them so fucking badly and it’s so easy to think about them and what they could do to me. What I would let them do to me.”

His fist flies to his mouth to stifle the whine that threatens to escape from him and his cock throbs underneath his cassock. He can feel your eyes on him, see your lips parted and it makes him lightheaded. Focus. Focus. Go over there and fuck her against this goddamned confessional. Focus.

“Sathanas bless you, tesoro,” he finally ekes out, his voice hoarse, “in celebrating your body a-and your desire you have made Him proud. Well done.”

A beat passes until you clear your throat. He thinks if he doesn’t tend to his dick soon he’s going to pass out.

“That’s all of them then, right? Got the full set?”

“Mmhmm. You can go if you like.”

“Didn’t you say there’s another blessing at the end?”

Satan damn your ability to vex him when he needs relief…and you…the most.

“Eh, yes. In nomine Padre, et Filio, e-et lo Spiritus Malum,” Cazzo what was the rest of it? “Ah…Sathanas bless this most sacred sinner for reveling in her transgressions against God. Nema.”

“Cool, well uh. Goodnight Copia. This has been…enlightening.”

“It certainly has,” he mutters under his breath, fingers itching to adjust his bulge. He’s not sure if you heard him or not because in an instant you’ve opened the booth and skittered down the nave to the door. He doesn’t breathe again until he hears you firmly shut it behind you and within seconds he’s fumbling for the hem of his cassock. He knows the likelihood that you were talking about him is slim but simply entertaining the thought that it could be has him unzipping his pants with vicious determination. When his cock finally, blessedly meets leather he could cry with relief. He knows he’s dribbling pre on himself but he doesn’t care - all that matters is the way you sounded confessing your lustful actions to him and how it drives his fist back and forth. Oh, how sweet you were. Tempting even when you weren’t trying to be. How he would revel in ruining you. The thought makes him double over, his unoccupied hand pressed against the wall of the booth in an attempt to stabilize himself. When he thinks of you eagerly spreading yourself open for him a broken moan escapes his lips, hips rutting upwards into his grip. What sweet little noises you would make - right there, Copia, please, that’s it - your body eager to yield to his touch.

“Dolcezza,” he grits out, “ragazza perfetta mia. S-so good–ah–for y-your Cardinal.”

His hand is a blur as it rockets along his shaft and he grunts into the silent chapel. He thinks of you looking up at him with that heart-shatteringly kind look on your face, your lips in a soft smile and he cries out, his seed painting his grucifix in desperate spurts. His mind is fuzzy but his hand doesn’t slow, determined to wrench every last drop out of himself until his head falls back and hits the wood of the booth. Groggily, he puts himself away and lowers his cassock before stumbling out of the confessional. His spend drips onto the stone floor but it matters little - surely it’s not the first that floor has seen. All of a sudden he’s exhausted - feeling every second of his five decades - as he blows out candle after candle. When his task is complete he trudges to the door and rests his forehead on the wood for a moment.

He thinks of your smile once more.

#cardinal copia #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

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hometoursandotherstuff · 15 days

Text

Who loves Disney? Well, if you do, the real estate agent says, "We’ve just waved our magic wand and *Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo* we’ve found your happily ever after!" For this semi-detached, 3bd, 1ba home in Rhyl, LL18 UK, I will be quoting the descriptions from the agent. A bargain at £179,950 / $236,203.

"Step into the spacious living/dining/kitchen area where the magic begins. With plenty of natural light and an open plan design, you’ll feel like you're in the happiest place on Earth with ample room for all the family."

"Can easily accommodate a large dining table and chairs, with double doors opening onto the newly laid Indian sandstone patio." But, currently, it houses the owners' collection.

"With plenty of cupboards and work surfaces, the kitchen is ready for any culinary adventure and will make every meal feel like hakuna matata - no worries, just good times!"

Not sure what this room is. It looks like a den, with an evil queen theme. Love the matching fireplace.

Up the stairs, we've got the London Bridge and Big Ben.

"The master bedroom is perfect for any sleeping beauty and is fitted with wardrobes which have plenty of hanging space for those princess gowns." Is that Strawberry Shortcake on the wall?

" A further double bedroom and single room which is perfect as a nursery or home office giving you a whole new world of possibilities." See what they did here? "A whole new world?"

"Into the bathroom, your very own splash mountain retreat - unwind with a bubble bath or shower, this larger than average bathroom is designed to help you just keep swimming with ease through your daily routine." Splash Mountain retreat? That's a stretch.

"Outside the low maintenance rear garden is a wonderland offering space to relax and play, offering a private and sunny aspect perfect for those bear necessities of life like a weekend BBQ or morning coffee!"

Well, I don't see a garden, and the theme has switched to a variety of other characters.

"With the added benefit of an extended garage with power and lights, a large summer house and further storage shed. Parking for your Lightning McQueen is available to the front of the property and on the single drive in front of the garage."

"Dont miss out on this practically perfect in every way property and contact us today and make this home part of your world."

https://www.rightmove.co.uk/properties/152043767#/

#semi detached UK #disney house UK #murals #unsual homes #houses UK #house tours #home tour #homes under $300K #homes under £200k UK

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wildflowerluver · 2 years

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when we are together

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

5 times jack pushes you and aaron together and the one time it works

cw: reader gets injured, mutual pinning, jack also gets hurt (very minor), bau reader, she/her pronouns

wc: 4.9k

༺♡༻

1. carpool

you had first overheard hotch complaining about his car troubles to rossi.

everyone drove the same bureau issued suv. it was odd for one to have an issue and not the others. emily laughed and joked to the group about it being ‘old man troubles’ to which he rolled his eyes.

“it’s going into the shop after work. standard maintenance.”

you finally butted in when hotch debated what rental car to get.

“i can just pick you up tomorrow if you’d like. i drive in your direction anyway,” you offered. “save you the trouble.”

hotch raised an eyebrow. “are you sure? i have to get jack to school too.”

you waved your hand. “i’ll pick you both up at eight.”

true to your word, you pulled up to hotch’s apartment complex a few minutes early and shot him a quick text to let him know you were outside.

jack came barreling out first, hotch not far behind. his backpack bounced as he ran and lunchbox hit against his leg.

“hi y/n!” jack exclaimed as he climbed into the car. hotch greeted you with a quieter hello as he buckled jack’s seatbelt and circled the car to get in the passenger's seat.

you stayed quiet while driving, focusing instead on navigating. hotch had asked jack about his day ahead in an effort to make small talk. the young boy perked up and began rambling off about everything he would be doing at school. you were impressed with how much he seemed to enjoy learning.

it was only a few minutes before you were pulling up to jack’s school as per aaron’s directions. you quickly parked while aaron got out of his seat to help jack out of the car and get his backpack on.

before he exited though, you twisted around to say goodbye to jack and wish him a good day at school.

he waved up at you with a toothy smile.

“maybe you and dad could drive me to school together more often.”

you and aaron met each others eyes in a mutual agreement.

“i think that can definitely be arranged.”

2. work

it was rare that jessica couldn’t watch jack. her job and schedule allowed her to care for the young boy after school and when aaron was away on cases.

today, however, she got swamped with a last minute series of meetings and was out of town for the day. she let aaron know as soon as possible but not quick enough for him to find another sitter.

that meant one thing, jack would have to spend the day at the bau.

aaron coached his son the entire drive over on the proper behavior. it was a paperwork day, thankfully, and he made sure jack knew that everyone on the team had a lot of work to get done. that meant no bothering them.

despite the warning, jack was practically bouncing the entire way up, more than excited he would get to spend an entire day with some of his favorite people on the planet.

members of the team greeted jack as he made his way around the bullpen. morgan even slipped him a lollipop he stole from garcia for the occasion. when hotch had begun to guide his son up towards the office, you offered to let jack sit with you.

hotch tilted his head. “are you sure?”

“i don’t have a ton of files to get done. he won’t be a bother.”

hotch brought a spare chair over to your desk. he thanked you again and disappeared into his office. you knew the young boy would need entertainment of some kind while he waited.

you took a spare piece of paper from your desk and a few pens. jack took them eagerly with a thank you and got to coloring right away.

it was far from a distraction. his scratching on paper served as white noise more than anything.

he seemed to finish after a few minutes, sliding it over to you for approval. you beamed when you saw the drawing. it was you, him, and hotch at what looked like the park. some of the scribbles were a little tough to decipher but you got the gist.

“wow jack!” you exclaimed. “i think we might have found your hidden talent!”

jack giggled, taking the picture back.

“wanna go show your dad?”

the boy was sliding off the chair and running up the steps towards his dad's office before you could stop him. while the offer was made, you were unsure if hotch was in a meeting. the door was already open, though, and jack headed in with ease.

“dad! dad! look what i made!” jack quickly exclaimed. hotch looked up from his file, expression softening as his son handed the picture.

you entered the office next, apologizing for jack’s sudden rogue behavior. hotch held his hand up, lips upturned in a small smile.

he kept the photo framed on his wall.

3. career day

there were plenty of events at jack’s elementary school that were spread throughout the year.

he had an art show, a holiday concert, and even a mini science fair. aaron had done his best to make it to the ones he could, but there were times when work conflicted and he felt awful.

jack had another event, career day, in just a few days and the team had yet to be called in for a case.

this was a big deal for him. once aaron had told him he would be in attendance, jack seemed to work extra hard and checked every single morning to make sure his dad would still be there. typically, jessica would also attend with or without aaron but she was away on a work trip.

as happy as jack was that aaron would be there, all of the other kids in his class were bragging about both of their parents taking the day off.

haley wasn’t around anymore and his aunt was busy.

jack asked his dad before he got out of the car for school. one of the aids had handed aaron a flier with a reminder for the event. in the back, jack piped up.

“can y/n come too?”

aaron glanced at his son through the mirror. he knew how important this event was for jack.

“sure, buddy. i can ask her today.”

jack’s career fair was that friday during your lunch break. the students would be dressing up as their future careers and even prepared a presentation for the parents who had come to see them.

despite not being able to make it, jack had enlisted jessica’s help to make his outfit a total surprise.

aaron and you had left a few minutes before your scheduled break to ensure enough time to make it to the school. you had to admit, hearing that jack wanted you at such a big event for him and being invited made you tear up.

you quickly found seats in the auditorium. jack’s teacher had given a brief speech before releasing everyone to walk around the room.

jack was in the back corner. you and aaron both beamed when you say his career choice.

he was dressed in a suit, one of aaron’s ties around his neck though it was much too long for his body. he had a little bag beside him and an id clipped to his collar. he looked like aaron.

jack immediately ran into his dads legs, squeezing him tightly. you were next.

“hey buddy,” you greeted. “what did you dress up as?”

“i’m an fbi agent!” he exclaimed proudly. “i wanted to be like you and dad.”

you glanced at aaron who pressed his lips together. “you wanted to be like us?”

“yeah! i couldn’t be a superhero so i chose the real thing.”

both you and aaron collected jack in your arms at his words.

aaron stayed close to you and jack went through his entire presentation: what an fbi agent was, why he picked it, and how he can practice in his everyday life. it was adorable.

it was finally time for the career fair to end and jack had hugged you both again before running off with his class. you and aaron needed to get back to work too. aaron drove you two back to the bureau, leaving the radio on at a comfortable volume.

“thank you for coming with me. i know it meant a lot to jack.”

aaron was truly grateful. jack adored you and deep down, aaron always worried that his son would struggle with emotions and opening up after losing haley. but with you, he was the opposite.

you leaned over the center console to squeeze his hand. a small intimate gesture.

“of course. anything for either of you.”

4. emergency room

you loved watching over jack whenever you could.

all of the team, minus you and morgan, had a conference out in wisconsin over the weekend. it wasn’t odd for certain members to not go, the bureau chose who they thought would discuss the content the best.

you volunteered to watch jack in aaron’s absence.

you headed over to the hotchner residence immediately after work on friday. the rest of the team would be heading out that night for the conference on saturday and sunday.

jack was ecstatic that you were watching him. he even made a list of movies he wanted to watch and games he wanted to play.

of course you had been in aaron’s apartment before, but he still showed you around and pointed out where specific things for jack were. he stopped by his bedroom, motioning you to drop your bags.

“you can sleep in here. i changed the sheets and all before you came but there’s also fresh linens in the hall closet.”

he had said it so casually you couldn’t help the blush that formed. you really hoped he didn’t notice.

you had to practically shove aaron out the door after the makeshift tour. he was running late for the airport but you could sense his nervousness about leaving jack. he finally kissed his son on the forehead and squeezed your shoulder.

“good luck at your conference.” you giggled when he rolled his eyes, clearly not excited for it. “try and have some fun.”

“i doubt it.”

the weekend with jack went by smoothly. you did everything on his agenda and spent some time in the city too. it was honestly relaxing to be with the boy.

aaron had texted you before he had left wisconsin, sending the flight information and arrival time. you had responded with a simple ‘safe flight!’ and ventured into the kitchen to make jack dinner.

jack was bouncing around as you cooked. he missed his dad and was excited for him to get home. you warned him gently to be careful and he simply giggled before taking off around the apartment.

you thought all was good until you heard a loud crash and an instant cry.

after shutting the burner of the stove off, you wasted no time in running to find jack.

he was sitting on the floor on the hallway, the table knocked over and a picture frame scattered on the floor. your heart plummeted when you saw the blood on his forehead and hands.

you’ve had training for this. you’ve literally saved people's lives but seeing jack injured seemed to make you falter.

you quickly took him in his arms and brought him into the kitchen, grabbing a towel to his cut. you needed to slow the bleeding before anything. you used your spare hand to wipe away jack’s tears.

“it’s gonna be okay, jackers. i promise.”

his verbal crying had subsided but the tears still flowed. your heart ached.

after a few moments, you removed the cloth and winced. he would definitely need stitches. “i’m gonna take you to get cleaned up, okay?” jack nodded.

you scooped him into your arms, quickly grabbing your phone and keys.

the drive to urgent care went by thankfully quickly. jack kept the cloth pressed to the cut and was taking it like a champ. you knew he would be okay but anxiety still nipped at your head.

doctors took jack back right away. you relayed what happened and that you were his babysitter. thankfully with aaron’s status at the bau, not much information was needed for you to write down.

when you went to follow them back to jack’s room, you were stopped. it was standard protocol for them to not let friends or family back while they operated. as much as you wanted to go and be with him, it simply wasn’t allowed.

you squeezed jack’s hand quickly, reassuring him that he would be okay. your eyes stayed on him until he was led out of sight.

you needed to call aaron.

the team was mingling about on the jet, all immersed in a game of poker while rossi slept somewhere else on the jet. hotch’s phone rang and he placed his cards down to pick it up.

hotch barely had time to answer with a hello before you were apologizing.

“aaron i’m so so sorry,” you cried.

“y/n what happened? where are you?”

“i’m at urgent care,” aaron’s heart fell at your words. “jack fell and cut his head. aaron i’m so sorry.”

you were crying again when you finished talking. he could tell you were trying to muffle your sobs with your hand.

“y/n,” aaron needed to calm you down before anything. “is jack okay?”

“yeah yeah. they took him back to get stitches but they said he was going to be okay. i’m sorry i was supposed to be taking care of him.”

“it’s okay. as long as jack is being taken care of, that's all that matters. i’m sure it was an accident.”

you’re already protesting his words. “but i-”

“y/n,” aaron’s voice is stern. “it’s okay. i’ll meet you at urgent care when we land. shouldn’t be more than thirty minutes.”

he was going easy on you and you knew it.

the thirty minute wait seemed to go by agonizingly slow. a doctor had come into the waiting room and let you know that they were beginning the stitching. the cleaning had taken longer than intended.

you shut your eyes when someone sat down next to you. you knew it was him. you knew you should turn and talk to aaron but the guilt was all consuming.

he finally took the first words. “how’s jack?”

“he’s good. getting his stitches now. aaron i’m-”

“y/n, it’s okay, really. please don’t apologize again. accidents happen,” his words were gentle. you stayed quiet, knowing you would apologize again if you opened your mouth.

aaron’s hand moved to your knee, effectively stopping the anxious bouncing and squeezing to reassure you of his words.

he kept his hand there until a doctor came out to which he stood up, professionalism seeping into his expression.

“you can go first,” you offered once the doctor had informed you that jack was ready to be seen. it felt dumb to have to vocally tell him to go.

aaron was having none of that. he reached down to take your hand in yours and hoist you to your feet, pulling you after him to jack’s room. aaron entered first, hugging his son tightly.

“hi jackers,” you greeted quietly after stepping into the room.

the young boy bit his lip as tears welled in his eyes. “i’m so sorry.”

aaron looked at his son. “what for buddy?”

“i was running when i wasn’t supposed to and i got hurt.”

you took a seat on the bed beside him, carefully wrapping an arm around his shoulder. he leaned into you as aaron occupied the other space beside him.

“it’s alright. i’m just glad you’re okay.”

5. hurts

there was always a risk when a friend, a lover, anyone close to you was in a potentially dangerous line of work.

you and aaron had gone through it a few times with him and foyet and various members of the team. you, however, hadn’t ever been directly put in danger.

that was until this case.

the unsub was profiled as a misogynistic, psychopathic serial killer whose signature involved overkill of women. every female in the immediate area was absolutely terrified.

you didn’t think much of it at first, especially not when you, spencer, and emily had been sent to a suspect's house. the fear only set in when all traits of the suspect had pointed to him being the unsub and you were the one who got attacked first.

hotch nearly lost it when he found you unconscious and bloody. your face had been beaten, nose swollen and lip split. he dropped down beside you, taking your head in his hands and yelling your name in pure fear of losing you until j.j. had gotten the emt’s.

you thankfully didn’t stay in the hospital very long, just overnight. all of your wounds had gotten cleaned and stitched up but the doctor had diagnosed you with a pretty nasty concussion. you were just glad it was a local case so you didn’t have to wait to fly home.

hotch had insisted that he watched over you for at least the first night. there had been other volunteers but no one was going to argue with their boss.

you had strict concussion protocol for the first night. you would need to stay up as late as you possibly could and once you fell asleep, someone would need to wake you up every few hours. it sounded exhausting.

if hotch had any issues with it, he didn’t voice them.

you were still pretty out of it on the drive home. aaron had loaded your bags in his car and kept a secure arm around your waist to help you in the passenger's seat. he even made sure to take the least bumpy route to his apartment.

you stayed leaning against the wall of his apartment hallway as aaron knocked before unlocking the door. jessica was greeting him right away, echoing that jack was in the kitchen eating dinner. the rest of their conversation was fuzzy. your head was pounding and it felt like too much to try and tune in and listen.

“y/n?” aaron’s voice was suddenly close.

you hum as you opened your eyes slowly.

“let’s head in,” his hand fell to your shoulder as he led you inside. jessica must have left because you could only hear jack in the kitchen.

you collapsed on the couch. aaron went into the kitchen to greet his son and get you some medicine.

despite doctor’s orders, sleep was beginning to feel like a good idea. but as your eyes started to slip shut, you heard a patter against the floorboards.

“y/n?” jack’s voice was small. you knew he had never seen you like this. “are you okay?”

you sat up, patting the spot next to you for jack to climb up. “i’m alright, jackers. just got a little hurt.”

an idea seemed to pass over jack’s face and he lit up. “oh! i know how to help!”

you tilted your head to the side. sure jack was smart for his age but you didn’t know how he could help your injuries.

“how?”

jack smiled. “kisses! dad and aunt jess always say that kissing my hurts will make them feel better.”

you bit your lip. the young boy's heart made you tear up. “well i certainly want to feel better.”

jack clambered forward, placing a soft kiss to the cut on your forehead, the bruise on your cheek, and the brace on your wrist.

aaron opened his mouth, a warning for his son to be careful on the tip of his tongue. but when he saw you smile, he stopped.

“dad!” jack twisted around to face his father. “your turn!”

aaron shook his head. “sorry buddy, i think you got them all.”

jack shook his head, pointing towards your very split lip. “nuh uh. i made sure to leave one for you.”

oh.

aaron ruffled his son's hair. he wanted to defuse the brewing situation. as willing as he would be to kiss your injury, it was wrong, unprofessional. “her lip needs to heal. i can’t kiss it.”

“but y/n won’t feel better!” jack sounded clearly in distress. “please?”

both you and aaron knew jack’s stubbornness, something he got from his father.

“alright,” aaron’s voice was softer now.

he circled the couch to stand in front of you. jack babbled on about how he also had special spiderman bandaids in his room and he would even let you have one. aaron’s eyes met yours. it was a silent agreement between the two of you.

aaron ducked down to kiss the corner of your mouth, lips ghosting over the stitches.

it was a surge of emotion but one that you knew he was only doing for jack. his lips left yours much faster than you would’ve liked.

“do you feel better?”

jack’s question broke you out of the trance you were in.

aaron had kissed you. indirectly, yes, but it was still a kiss.

“without a doubt.”

+1 movie night

you and aaron hadn’t discussed the night after the case. though in all honesty, you hadn’t stopped thinking about it.

once you were cleared again for the field, cases seemed to pick up which left less than sufficient personal time for you and aaron. you missed him.

you were the first one in the office friday morning. you had gotten there early to get a headstart on your paperwork in hopes that it meant not having to stay late.

aaron was in next. he usually gave you, or whoever else was in the bullpen, a nod and a quiet ‘good morning.’ today, he changed his route and circled around to your desk.

“are you busy tonight?”

you nearly sputtered out the coffee you were drinking out of pure unawareness of where this question was going to lead.

you shook your head. “assuming we don’t have a case, i’m not.”

“good,” aaron started. “jack wanted to have a movie night and he’s been dying to see you and i wanted to see if you wanted to come over?”

his voice seemed to go up an octave towards the end, as if to cushion the non-existent blow of the question.

you beam. “i would love to.”

aaron’s eyes lift. it’s not a smile, those are rare even for you, but it’s close to it.

“perfect. does seven work?”

you nod.

“great, we’ll see you then.”

you hide your smile in the file you’re working on.

right as aaron had instructed, you showed up at aaron’s apartment right around seven. you knocked twice, stepping back to wait for the door to open. when it did, you weren’t met with your tall solemn boss, but the smaller hotchner.

“y/n!” jack exclaimed, surging forward to hug your waist.

you giggled, hugging him back. “hi jack.”

aaron appeared behind his son, lips upturned at the sight of you two. “hi,” you greeted him.

“come on in, it’s all set up.”

you let aaron take your bag. usually on nights like these, you and aaron stayed up much later than you expected and you crashed at his place instead of going home.

you took a seat at the edge of the couch, letting aaron decide the distance between you two. when he returned, he sat a few feet away. it wasn’t enough to be inferred as him clearly trying to make distance but it wasn’t close enough either.

jack had clambered into his dad’s lap, curling into his chest with just enough vision to still see the movie.

once he had settled, however, his head turned to where you still sat. he extended one of his hands, opening and closing his fists in a grabbing motion. he wanted you closer.

“i wanna lay with you too.”

“of course jackers.”

you smiled and scooted a little closer to aaron. you looked up at him cautiously. being close to jack meant being close to him too. aaron didn’t respond verbally. he lifted his arm from where it sat at his side to rest along the back of the couch. open invitation.

you curled into aaron’s side, legs pressing against his. jack wasted no time in readjusting himself to be strung across the both of you. you could feel aaron’s eyes peer down on you but you didn’t meet his gaze. instead, you settled further into the couch and watched the screen.

as the final few scenes of the movie played, jack began yawning and rubbing his eyes. you knew it was his bedtime but would fight until the movie was over. you brought your hand to his back, running your fingers up and down to help soothe his tired state.

when the end credit popped up, aaron leaned to shut off the tv. “alright buddy, let’s get you to bed. can you say goodnight to y/n?”

jack slid fully into your lap, arms interlocking around your neck to hug you.

“goodnight y/n. thank you for coming over.”

“goodnight jack,” you spoke, squeezing him a little tighter.

when you let go, the boy wasted no time in all but sprinting down the hall to pick out the bedtime story aaron would read.

“i’m going to get him ready for bed,” aaron started. “i shouldn’t be too long.”

you smiled up at him. “take your time.”

aaron too disappeared down the hall and you were left to your own devices.

you knew he wanted you to wait in the living room but your overnight bag was discarded in his room and you really wanted to wash your face and get in more comfy clothing.

you tried to be as quiet as possible as you walked down the hallway, fully intent on going into aaron’s room just to grab your bag. that was until you heard the conversation between aaron and jack. you stayed pressed against the wall next to the door.

guilt climbed in your chest at what you were doing but what the hotchner boys didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

“-don’t get it.” that was jack.

you could almost see aaron’s eyebrow quirk. “what don’t you get, buddy?”

“why aren’t you and y/n dating yet?”

you suck in a breath, cheeks turning rosy at the question. you absolutely knew you weren’t meant to hear it. the thought of turning away and completing your original task passes over but you want, need, to hear aaron’s response.

“i don’t think she likes me like that, bud.”

“she does,” jack nearly giggles. “she talks about you a lot.”

you just got betrayed by a seven year old.

aaron seems to change the conversation after that and that’s when you tune out, replaying aaron’s words over and over. i don’t think she likes me like that. does that mean he liked you too?

you’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t notice jack’s door open and aaron step out.

he sighed, not surprised in the slightest at seeing you waiting. “i know you heard all that.”

busted.

you stammer, trying poorly to come up with an excuse.

“come on,” aaron’s hand is strong as he guides you to his room. “he just got to bed, don’t want him waking up while we talk.”

fear courses through you. you could lose your job over all this. dramatic reaction but still a possibility. above all, however, you could lose aaron personally. it was already a barrier you felt like you were pushing

“jack sometimes doesn’t think before he asks a question,” aaron starts. oh. “i’m sorry you had to hear that.

he was sorry?

“why are you sorry?” you’re trying to save yourself the potential heartbreak.

aaron sighs.

“i’m your boss. it’s unprofessional to have feelings for my subordinate. you watch my son too, i don’t want you feeling like i’ve been taking advantage of you.”

you wanted to laugh. aaron was always overly professional with his words.

“i really like you aaron.”

he didn’t respond at first and for a moment you think your confession was a little too strong. but then his eyes meet yours and he smiles.

“can i kiss you? properly this time.”

you hummed. “please.”

aaron’s lips met yours tentatively. his hands cupped your cheeks effectively holding you to him. it was new, though not unwelcome.

you leaned up to loop your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

aaron pulled away first and you whined, clearly upset at the sudden lack of contact. you had waited ages to kiss aaron and in no way did you expect for it to end so soon.

“relax baby,” aaron chuckled. your heart leaped at the pet name. “need to adjust.”

he sat down on the bed. arms snaked around your waist to pull you close to him.

“so you like me too?” the question slips out before you can think about it.

aaron leans up to kiss the corner of your mouth, the same spot where your cut had turned into a scar.

“i do.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotchner x female reader

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 1 year

Text

Well fuck, I guess this is gonna be three parts instead of two

It was an accident I swear I'm sorry 😭😭

Just kinda want it to develop naturally instead of forcing it

Soooooooooo

Oooh that smile 😌🫠

Well, here we go.

Blacksmith's Daughter

Part 2 of 3 (I'm POSITIVE this time I swear)

Part 1 here

OPLA!Shanks X AFAB!Reader

Wordcount: 4.3k

Hurt/comfort, fluffy as goddeng cotton candy, I guess slow-burn now too? Idfk

Trigger Warnings: mentions of death of loved one, trauma

Tag requests: @zzbloody-animezz

Perfectly harmless.

You very highly doubted that claim was true.

"Well," he said, tilting his head a little closer, "mostly harmless."

Still, almost as if to prove it, Shanks released his hold around your waist, his hand resting at your lower back a moment before slipping away to hold the cell door open for you. You stumbled just a little on your first steps out of the cell, your legs trembling, stiff and weakened in equal measure from three days and two nights stuck with the very limited range of movement that your bindings had allowed.

"Easy, now," said Shanks lightly, briefly slipping his arm around your back to steady you by your waist. "You haven't been on your feet in days, you can take a minute to get your footing. We're not in any rush."

"R...right," you said, uncertainly. You swallowed as he helped guide you over to the brig officer's desk, where you sat heavily in the chair, stretching your legs out for a moment. "I still don't really want to stay here too long. Three days has been more than enough." You leaned forward, pulling your swords across the desk and resting your forehead on one of of the black leather sheaths, laying your hand over the hilt. "Don't want to keep the crew waiting, either."

"Ah, they'll be busy a while," he said dismissively, pulling himself uo to sit on the desk. "There's a good bit of cargo to transfer." He nodded down at the swords. "Yours, I take it?'

You nodded, lifting your head. "I didn't even know if they were brought on the ship or not," you said. "My father made them for me." He had made them just over ten years ago, given them to you on your fourteenth birthday.

"Well, he was damned skilled. They're beautiful. May I?" He gestured a hand toward them. "If you don't mind."

"Go ahead," you said. You lifted one of the cutlasses and drew to from its scabbard, handing it over. His hand brushed across yours as he took the blade, clearly intentionally if the small smirk that briefly curved the corner of his lips was any indication. You watched him flip it deftly in one hand, holding it upright, his eyes scanning slowly down the edge of the blade.

"And well cared for. Sharp as a razor," he commented, impressed. He turning it sideways, flipping it around once more and nodding. "He teach you anything about smithing?"

You shook your head. "Not much," you said. "My brother was his apprentice. He taught me maintenance mostly. He instructed me in a few different weapon types, but swords were always my favorite." You took the weapon back when he handed it off to you, slipping the blade back into its scabbard. "And his."

"Experienced thief, weapons expert...." He leaned back a bit, smiling as he shook his head. "Yeah, you'll fit right in, sweetheart."

The way he was looking at you, the way his eyes burned into yours, had your face growing a little warm again as you turned your own gaze away, swallowing nervously. It wasn't as if no one had ever flirted with you before; you were honestly pretty used to it, ever since you had ended up living in the streets, used to crude comments and catcalling.

And yet here sat an incredibly notorious pirate captain, being incredibly respectful about it, all but making you swoon every time he lowered his voice or so much as touched your hand.

You stood from the chair, picking up your swords and setting to strapping them to your belt at either side of your hips, glancing down at the Marine cadet still bound in the corner of the room as his eyes passed between you and Shanks. You had never been around any pirates before now, but you had encountered your fair share of Marines, as many of them had been customers at your father's smithy.

Many of them had been self-righteous prats, and all the Marines aboard this ship had treated you like scum they had dragged in on the bottom of their boots.

"I think I will fit in fairly well," you finally said, quietly.

"Now that's the spirit!" His enthusiasm was honestly infectious, and you couldn't help but smile a little as he slipped off of the desk. "There's a fair chance you'll end up with a bounty on your head once word of your escape reaches Marineford, anyway. Between that and breaking into a base in a major city." He still sounded particularly amused about that as he rest his hand over the small of your back, stepping over the Marine cadet as if he weren't even there. "I'm eager to find out how you managed it. Oh, no, not yet," he added when you opened your mouth to respond. "I'm sure the whole crew's going to want to hear that tale."

Well, it was quite a tale. You were honestly surprised you had made it as far as you had before getting caught.

Before everything went to hell in a handbasket.

You lifted a hand to shield your eyes as you emerged onto the bustling deck of the ship; the mid-afternoon sun was blinding after days of only seeing it through one small, rounded window in the brig. The Red Hair crew was working quickly and steadily on robbing the Marine ship completely blind, right before their eyes—the entire crew of around fifty Marines was tied up on the deck, bound at their hands and feet, the captain and his officers situated at the center mast to give them the best possible view of the entire debacle.

Shanks called and motioned for his own officers to line up at the starboard side of the caravel, and took his time in introducing you to each of them individually. He glanced back occasionally at the Marines' captain and mates with a smirk, clearly reveling in their growing annoyance.

"Our newest thief has two years experience," he dragged on loudly, pacing slowly between you and his officers—many of whom were cracking up themselves, well aware that the whole spectacle was being orchestrated for the sole purpose of riling up the captive Marines, "and was arrested for—if you can believe it—breaking into a Marine base in a major port city in Arabasta with only one accomplice, and getting so far as to open their treasury vault before being captured."

And he paused for effect at that, waiting as the crew began to break into laughter, as you struggled to keep a straight face yourself, glancing toward the infuriated Marine captain, who had told you before shoving you into the brig a few days ago that he would personally see to it that you never saw the light of day again. For once in your life you were seeing karma in real time—and it was a positively beautiful sight to behold.

"And I'm sure we're all dying to know," Shanks went on, ceasing his pacing and stopping just in front of you, grinning, "how the hell she managed it."

He had given you more than enough time to go over the details in your head. A lot of your success had been pure dumb luck, for sure, but you drew up your resolve to relay it.

"Overheard a few cadets in a tavern talking about how the vaults were never heavily guarded...and the roof access was never locked." His eyebrows shot up toward the bright red fringe of his hair as you spoke. His officers glanced between each other. "A couple days later we climbed the back wall of the base. Knocked out a couple Marines at the top floor, stole their uniforms, and made our way down."

"Bullshit." All eyes shifted onto the Marine captain when he spoke up, glaring daggers at you. "That base is constructed out of sandstone. Five stories of completely smooth stone. There's no way anyone could climb the walls."

"Tell your comrades at the base to check the back wall for holes," you said coldly, your eyes lingering on his. "We used climbing spikes."

The man's teeth gritted together in a visible scowl. You turned your head back toward the snickering pirates, in time to see Shanks mumble something to Benn, who rolled his eyes and scoffed.

Then you heard the Marine captain behind you again, speaking in a low growl. "Disrespectful wench." You turned your head in time to watch him spit at the heel of your boot.

"Disrespectful?" Though the rest of his crew continued to chuckle, Shanks wasn't laughing as he put himself between you and the oposing captain, his forearm resting over the hilt of his saber at his hip. "I get the impression you haven't done much to earn anyone's respect," he said. "That being said, respectfully, captain...."

And with that, he placed the heel of his sandal against the man's shoulder and shoved him over. With the Marine's hands and feet bound, there was nothing he could do to right himself—nothing except glare daggers at Shanks as he crouched down in front of him.

"Don't interupt." Shanks gave him a smile and a rather hard clap on the shoulder before straightening back out and turning to face his own crew. "Now—"

"Goddamned pirates," he spat. Shanks looked back over his shoulder at the man. "A thief's a thief," he said viciously, glaring daggers at you from where he lay on the deck floor. "The whore'll rob you lot blind same as she tried with us."

There was scattered chuckling around the Marines as Shanks stared down at the captain for a long, tense moment. You saw something shift in his eyes, the warmth and humor leaving them.

"Whore?" he repeated lightly, raising his eyebrows. His eyes swept around the rest of the Marines, before he turned to you, taking a couple steps closer. He brushed a few strands of hair behind your ear, offering you a warm smile. "I take it," he said slowly, quietly, "this is how you were being treated for the past three days, sweetheart?"

You swallowed, glancing over toward the Marines, whose laughter had quickly subsided. "More or less, yes," you affirmed.

"Hmm." He nodded, his hand drifting down to your shoulder, lifting the torn strap of your black tank top—torn when you had been flung into the cell in the brig by a couple cadets, while the captain stood watch and told you then that you'd never see the light of day again. His eyes shifted over to the Marines again, and he spoke aloud. "Change of plans, men. We take everything from this ship that isn't nailed down...and then we sink her."

The protest from the Marines was immediate, loud and desperate—some begging to be spared, others calling you several other colorful names and shouting claims that you were lying. Even you found yourself staring wide-eyed at the red-haired captain, at the knowledge that he would sink an entire ship just because of how the crew had treated you.

You were beginning to understand the reason for his bounty.

Shanks ignored the Marines entirely—it seemed his mind was made up. "I think we're just about done here." Your eyes remained wide as he turned his head back to meet your gaze, his expression softening into a smile again, his hand resting at your lower back. "What say we get you over to our ship and..." He glanced down at your shoulder briefly, at the broken strap of your shirt hanging down, "maybe find you something to change into."

You nodded, tugging unconsciously at the broken strap to pull the neck of your shirt up. "I...suppose that would be..."

"There's no need to worry, love" He clearly noticed your unease—there was no doubt it was written all over your face. He curled his arm around your back, leaning in a bit so he didn't have to raise his voice over the mounting protest of the Marines behind both of you. "You're part of my crew now, and we always look out for each other." He glanced over at the metal clink of a lighter igniting at his other side, and grinned at his first mate. "Isn't that right, Benn?"

Hi first mate quirked an eyebrow, taking a puff from his cigarette. "What am I agreeing to?"

"Ah, don't worry about it," Shanks laughed. "Anyway—I'll trust you to handle preparations here." He nodded back toward the Marines as the three of you stopped at the starboard railing around the deck, and he leaned forward against it, his eyes scanning over his ship floating only a few feet away, over the rest of the crew getting the supplies they had taken from the Marines organized. "Half a keg of powder should do the trick, we'll bring the rest with us."

"Right," said Benn, stubbing out the cigarette he had just lit on the railing and tucking it behind his ear.

"After you've—"

There was a light metallic clink right behind you—and all three of you heard it, glancing over your shoulders.

In the same instant you drew one of your swords and spun around, leveling it with the Marine officer's throat, Benn had his rifle pointed at the man's forehead. The officer dropped the flintlock pistol he had pointed at Shank's back, his eyes widened in shock, shaking as he slowly raised his hands.

Shanks turned around and leaned back, hanging his elbow over the edge of of the railing and glancing at you with a quick nod of approval. Then he turned his eyes on the Marine, giving a small chuckle and cooking his head to the side a bit.

"Now that wasn't a very smart decision, was it?" he said, grinning. "You could have just snuck by and sent out a distress call. Did you?" he added, lifting his eyebrows.

"I—I—no, I—I just—I—"

"Check," said Shanks, cutting his eyes toward Benn.

Benn gave a short nod, shouldered his rifle, and headed off toward the quarterdeck in quick strides.

The Marine remained standing there, shaking and stammering, his eyes darting between your blade and Shanks as the red-haired captain rolled his gaze back over to you. "Quite a set of reflexes you've got, sweetheart. You said your father trained you?"

You glanced at him only briefly before training your eyes back onto the Marine, and nodded. "We didn't live in a great area," you said. "He wanted to make sure I could defend myself."

"I would have to say he succeeded," he chuckled, shaking his head a little. He leaned back a bit further, placing the toe of his sandal over the Marine's pistol and sliding it across the deck, stooping down to pick it up. "What other tricks have you got up your sleeve?"

"Well," you said, watching as he turned the pistol over in his hands, and then casually reach behind him and drop it overboard. Benn was heading back down the stairs from the quarterdeck with a coil of rope hanging from one shoulder. He seemed to be in no hurry, so clearly no distress signal had been sent off. You went on, "He rigged this for me, in case I ever get disarmed."

You shifted your weight onto one foot, and hit the back of your right boot heel on the deck, and a three inch blade shot out from a slot in the front of the sole.

The Marine drew in a sharp breath, and Benn stopped a few feet away, speaking one word that clearly echoed his captain's wide-eyed expression.

"Shit."

Shank's brief look of shock quickly faded into an almost childlike excitement.

"God, that is brilliant," he laughed, crouching down and tilting his head to examine the blade. "How's it work?"

"Some sort of spring-loaded trigger mechanism," you said. You knocked your heel down again and the blade retracted. You smirked a little yourself as Shanks straightened back out—his enthusiasm truly was contagious. "My father called them 'Ball-Busters.'"

That cracked him up immediately—he leaned his shoulder into the railing, laughing, while Benn gave a scoff and shook his head. "I'd say that's pretty goddamned accurate," the first mate said. "I got it from here," he added, pulling his rifle down from his shoulder and shoving it against the Marine's shoulder as you pulled your cutlass away and slipped the blade back into its scabbard. "Alright, over there with the other assholes," he said, nudging him with the barrel. "We're as sick of being here as you are of having us here."

You watched Benn usher the officer over toward the main mast, feeling oddly as if you were stuck in the middle of some strange dream you might wake up from at any minute—wake up back in the dark and dingy cell below the deck, down in the brig, getting dragged out to be shoved into an even darker cell in Impel Down for the rest of your days.

"Oh, you are just a treat." So lost in that thought were you that you jumped a little when Shanks wrapped an arm around your back again. "Come on, love. Let's get you changed and cleaned up." He pulled himself up onto the railing and stepped into a sturdy plank laid out between his own ship and the Marines', offering you his hand. You took it and he helped pull you up as well, his fingers lacing through yours as he gave you another charming smile. "I'd say you've more than earned it."

Your eyes remained locked for a long, tense moment, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand, your heart racing a little faster—until a particularly strong wave rocked both of the ships and made you stumble a little. He chuckled lightly, before leading you across the plank and onto the main deck of his own ship.

You felt more than a little out of your element a few minutes later, lingering near the door of the captain's quarters with your arms crossed over your stomach while Shanks rifled through a wardrobe against the wall. You were still a little apprehensive, your mind still lingering on the man's decision to sink the Marines' vessel solely on your behalf, but there was a charm about him that was almost intoxicating, and it was drawing you in quickly.

"Don't really have anything that's going to fit you properly," he said, pulling one shirt out and frowning at it before hanging it back up. "But there might be...something...."

You swallowed, glancing around the cabin—at the table to your left that was covered in maps, a desk in the corner with a closed logbook, a four-poster bed in another corner with a pair of floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the port side of the ship. It still all felt uncanny enough to be a dream.

"No...other women on the crew, I take it?" you said slowly.

"No," he affirmed, still pushing aside hangers and frowning. "Not as if it's intentional, it just...turned out that way, I suppose?" He said it with an air of genuine surprise himself that almost made you chuckle. "Seems most women aren't interested in sailing around with a ship full of—ah, this should do," he interjected, pulling out a white shirt on a metal hanger that seemed at least a little smaller than the others. "Probably haven't worn it since I was a teenager," he said, looking it up and down.

He gave the shirt an appraising nod, and then tossed it to you before crossing the room to take a seat at the desk. He noded once more toward the corner by the wardrobe where there stood a fold-out changing screen.

"You'll have to forgive me if I'm a little averse to leaving a stranger alone in my personal quarters. But..." He lifted his hand, smiling, before covering his eyes with it. "I promise I won't peek. Pirate's honor."

You did chuckle a little at that. It wasn't as though you weren't used to changing in less than totally private conditions—you had been living on the streets for just over two years. You crossed the room yourself, ducking behind the divider screen and pulling it out.

"Nor do I wish to be on the recieving end of the Ball-Buster," he added, and you laughed aloud at that.

"I've never actually used it," you said, hanging the shirt over the top edge of the screen and pulling your tank top over your head. "Not as more than a threat a couple times. The sight of it usually gets the point across."

"I can't fathom any circumstance where it wouldn't," he laughed. You heard him sigh after a moment, while you pulled down the hanger and unbuttoned the shirt he had given you. "Out of curiosity," he said finally, "why exactly were you being shipped to Impel Down?" You paused, your eyes flickering up to the changing screen, in the direction of his sillhouette—and noting that from his shadow alone you could tell he still had his hand over his eyes. "That's a privilege normally reserved for pirates and revolutionaries rather than petty local thieves."

"I, uh...." You swallowed, pulling your arms through the sleeves of the shirt. You hadn't been completely clear on every detail, but it seemed now was as good a time as any—even if it was painful to recall. "I...killed two Marines before I was apprehended."

"Did you?" he said lightly.

"Mmm." You set to buttoning the shirt, slowly, glancing toward his silhouette again. "I didn't...really mean to. After...I guess after my brother took a bullet for me, I just sort of...reacted. I don't even really remember much of it. Just—him falling, then them taking my swords and locking me in a storage closet before carting me off to the ship."

You truthfully weren't even sure how long you had remained at the base before being taken to the docks—locked in the dark, your arms wrapped around your knees, wondering if you were ever going to see daylight again, hoping it was all just some awful nightmare you might wake up from.

"That's...." You heard him sigh heavily. "That's a lot." You gave a small hum in agreement, looking down at the shirt, and sighing yourself—it fit you like a nightgown, the hem drooping nearly down to your knees. You shook your head and set to unbuttoning it again.

"I suppose the Marines had a good reason for treating me like trash," you allowed, rolling the hem of the shirt up and tying it in a knot at your midriff. You fastened a few of the buttons above the knot, and set to rolling up the sleeves. "I did kill a couple of their comrades."

"And they killed your brother," he pointed out.

You frowned to yourself, swallowing back a lump forming in your throat at his quiet, understanding tone. You glanced up again when you heard him shift, and watched his shadow stand and cross the room through the screen as you rolled up the other sleeve to just above your elbow. You pulled the screen back just as he reached it, your eyes meeting his the moment you did. The sympathy in his dark eyes was almost enough to break you in an instant. You glanced down at his hand when it came to rest on your shoulder for just a moment before your eyes snapped back to his.

"That doesn't—" He shook his head. "Nothing excuses fifty plus grown men treating a young woman like something a dog dragged in. Particularly not after what you went through." Your gaze fell away from his at that, down to the floor. "I'm assuming from what you've said—and forgive me if I'm wrong—that you'd never..." He paused, seeming to search for the correct words. "You'd never been forced to defend yourself before?"

You shook your head. You had practiced with your swords for years, sparred with both your father and your brother regularly, but you had never been in a situation where you had to truly fight for your life. You had definitely never killed anyone before. You barely recalled the details even now, and you honestly didn't want to remember them at all.

"Oh, sweetheart..." He let out a slow sigh, and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You closed your eyes as he rest his hand lightly over your head, as a little tension you hadn't even been aware of released from your shoulders. Your head fell forward, resting against his chest, and you closed your eyes as he lowered his head over yours. "Just so we're clear...you don't have to stay here," he said gently, his thumb brushing across the crown of your hair. "You're not a prisoner, you're a guest. You can take a few days to decide. Or longer. But if you do..."

He moved his hand to your cheek, lifting your head gingerly until your eyes met his.

"This crew is like a family." He lowered his forehead to yours, his hand drifting down to your shoulder again as he offered you a warm smile. "And you'll be welcome to stay as long as wish. Alright?"

You swallowed, and nodded.

Lowered your head again, your breath shaking as it left your lungs, and you rest your forehead against his chest again, your eyes closing tightly. You weren't used to this—this degree of kindness, of compassion from much of anyone, much less a stranger...but something in his eyes, in the warmth of his touch, told you that he was being completely sincere.

"Th...thank you," you whispered—you couldn't think of anything else to say than that, nothing that could wholly express the emotion swelling in your chest.

He just chuckled lightly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders again.

"You're welcome, love."

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