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hardlyinteresting · 9 months ago

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Love, Guilt and Other Wounds

Aaron Hotchner x female reader

When Aaron and his partner are taken hostage, he has to break her heart to save her life.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, a little bit of domestic fluff, mention of blood, injury (non-graphic), hostage situation, knives, cannon-compliant themes of violence, non-detailed discussion about religion (Christianity), themes of childhood abuse, please let me know if you want me to add anything else.

Word count: (less than I expected, sorry) 3.7k Request here! | Masterlist

"Of course, I’ll hurt you. Of course, you’ll hurt me. Of course, we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence". - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Aaron isn't sure if he believes in a God or a higher power. He was taught to read scripture; and spent Sunday mornings perfecting his posture in church pews-- starched shirts and neckties pulled too tight. The preacher's sermons left him wanting-- wondering how this man of God could stand over his congregation preaching every week, and not see all the lies they were holding back. How could he not see the secrets Aaron seemed to read so clearly? At just fourteen Aaron knew who was having an affair and with whom. He could see which children feared their fathers. Every pew had another story, another family growing together, or falling apart. The hypocrisy of it all drove him mad, and he imagined standing from his seat to shout it, overwhelmed as he realized he had unintentionally become the keeper of everyone's secrets. He learned that everyone in that church was a liar in their own right, and he hated it. But, when he left for college, his mother called to ask if he was still going to church on Sundays, and he lied and said yes.

He should have paid more attention. Maybe then he'd understand how he ended up here. Perhaps it's some sick retribution. A cosmic evening of the scales; his penance for his sins. He just wishes you weren't here with him. How dare he think he could love someone when all he's ever done is punish those who love him? His hands are stained with blood; he taints everything he touches.

Very early on in his career, Aaron learned he couldn’t take cases personally. As devastating as it was to have another victim show up while hunting a killer, it wasn’t a personal failure. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He repeated the process again and again. Logically he knows that he is not responsible for the actions of the aggressive sociopath who is now holding the two of you hostage; but, he blames himself for not keeping you safer, for bringing you with him, and for putting you in harm's way. He knows he will not recover if you don’t make it out of here. He won’t forgive himself.

The profile said this man would be anti-social. Physically, he’d be small in stature. It was clear he’d been sneaking up on his victims. He had been taking couples, knocking out the men with a blow to the back of the head, and then the women. It’s a method that the team had seen before, common for UNSUBs without the social ability to lure their victims, or the physical strength or confidence to attack head-on. But they had not profiled that he would escalate to taking out his targets with a taser.

After six days in San Diego, the team finally had a lead on two rental properties in the UNSUB’s comfort zone. One was an old tyre factory, listed as a multipurpose warehouse and storage space; the other was a large storage facility in an industrial neighbourhood. Both units had been paid for in cash, both offered the privacy and space required to hold and torture two people for days at a time. The team split up, Hotch and you arranged to meet the owner of the factory space to find out more about who the renter was and gain access to the property. With no response from the owner of the second property, Morgan, Prentiss, and Rossi headed over to check it out.

The two of you had only been on the property for five minutes before Aaron had been incapacitated and taken out. He had foolishly made his way into the building while you ran back to the SUV to grab your jacket. Out cold, there was nothing Aaron could do to stop you from meeting the same fate.

It’s not his fault. But he feels like it is as he watches you shiver from across the room. He can’t be certain how much time has passed, but it feels like hours. He can only hope that you’re being kept in the building you were attacked in, that the team will connect the dots and come and get you, but until then you’re stuck. He watches, nauseated as your eyes flutter open, and then shut again. You’re concussed, he doesn’t need to be a doctor to know that. His ears are ringing, and he’s sure the blow he took to the head has at the very least temporarily worsened his hearing.

“Doesn’t the FBI have rules against fraternization?” The UNSUB wonders out loud, waving a knife around as he walks towards you.

“What makes you think we’re a couple?” Hotch asks, as he tries to work his hands free from the rope that binds them behind his back, “She’s just a colleague”.

It’s a lie. But it needs to be said. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. Buy time, shift the UNSUB’s interest away from the two of you. Ruin the fantasy.

“I think I’ve been doing this long enough to know a couple when I see a couple, Aaron,” the man taunts, obviously proud of himself. He’s feeling emboldened having taken two FBI agents, but that works in your favour. He’s getting cocky, too full of himself. It’s a level of confidence he isn’t used to having, it just gives him a higher height to fall from. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. “I think it’s time we wake your girlfriend up,” the man says, his hand gripping tightly at your hair, your head tugged back without remorse.

Aaron resists the urge to cringe as he hears you groan, your face twisted with obvious pain as you’re rudely awakened. “She’s pretty. What’s she doing with you?”

“I told you. She’s a colleague”.

Your eyes are unfocused, scanning the room trying to make sense of what is going on.

The man raises the knife, holding it to your throat. This time Aaron blinks, desperate to control his expressions and micro-expressions. In this scenario, the less he cares about you, the safer you are.

It’s the burden of being tied to him. Time after time his love destroys people.

The blade presses closer to your throat. Aaron controls his breathing.

“Impressive agent Hotchner. But I’m still not convinced,” the UNSUB moves the blade but pulls your head back further. Your eyes meet Aaron’s, “Do what you’re going to do, he doesn’t care,” you say. You’re speaking to the man with the knife in his hand as much as you’re speaking to Aaron. He weighs his options, his heart pounding as he watches you hold your breath, willing the tears to leave your eyes. It’s the permission he needs but doesn’t want. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He knows you’re doing the same, telling him to break your heart to save your life.

“Please, Hotc--”.

He doesn’t let you finish, “Just shut up for once. Please,” he thinks the words cut through him more than they cut through you. Knowing his cruelty is a lie does little to soften the blow, and it breaks his heart to be the one throwing it.

But this is all he’s good for, isn’t it? Letting people down. Surely it’s not just coincidence that so many of those who have dared to love him end up damaged. One way or another he destroys people. Who is he to say that he’s the one who is suffering when it’s he who does all the damage?

Even as a child, he couldn’t help it. He thinks perhaps he inherited his sharpened tongue and lack of patience from his mother. She loved him in her own way but could never show it without first tearing him apart. Her biting words, and regular beatings. Prentiss had been right when she once said he was distrustful of women-- unfairly so. Not all women carry the hateful, spiteful heart his mother had. Very few had ever turned their rage at the world and their shortcomings into a personal and violent rage against him. He grew weary nonetheless. Better safe than sorry.

At a young age, it became clear to him that there were few things, if anything, as important to his mother than appearances. On Sundays, she fussed over his clothes and his posture. She lectured him on table manners from the moment he could hold a fork. His room had to be spotless. His grades had to surpass average. Long before his brother was ever born, he learned how to live up to her expectations. But still, there was always something she could find him lacking in, an excuse to take her open fist or wooden spoon to his skin, a reason to send him to bed without dinner. He remembers crashing into the china cabinet trying to escape her one night. She was mortified on Monday when he had to walk into school on Monday with a cast around his arm. “Make sure they know this was your fault,” she told him. Perhaps I was built to fail, he had thought. She loves me and I embarrass her. I will only ever let her down. God, how disappointed she would be to see him now.

Seconds feel like hours as the UNSUB leers expectantly. The man's mouth twists into a smile when he sees the tears forming in your waterline again. Aaron watches your fist clench presumably to distract yourself from the migraine that matches the pounding in his head, just as much as it is to pull your attention away from the hurtful lies he's about to weave.

“You were supposed to have my back,” Arron spits with faux vitriol. “You had one job and couldn't even manage to do that”. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward.

“From the moment you showed up I knew you'd be a problem”.

He continues to try to work his hands out from the binds. He can feel the knot loosening as he continues to buy the two of you time. “Aaron,” you beg, tears slipping down your cheeks now.

“Following me around with some school girl crush. Look where we are now,” Aaron breathes.

He can feel his father’s rage resting on his shoulders, as heavy as his hands were when he used to pat him on the back. It’s a quiet burning, far more silent than his mother’s anger, but it’s there and threatening him all the same. A silent shame; a fear induced by the knowledge that he’s failing but not being able to stop it. His father lived like a ghost in their home, just as Aaron has learned to haunt his life. He only ever raised his voice when he drank, but even then his hatred was self-directed. A sorrowful self-pity. A cry for help. The affairs, the gambling, the drinking; the man punished himself, stumbling home to a house with a vengeful wife, a silent boy, and a crying baby. It was a heart attack that finally killed him, but Aaron never doubted his father had stopped living long before that.

Aaron breaks his own heart as he delivers each verbal blow. He hopes you understand. He prays that just maybe your concussion might leave the memories of this moment blurry. Selfishly, he begs you to forgive him, because he won’t forgive himself.

He can see the way your wrists strain against your restraints. The UNSUB adjusts his grip on your hair as you struggle to distance yourself from him. Your eyelids flutter and he knows your vision must be swimming but you don’t give up. With a sadistic grin, the UNSUB wipes at the tear stain on your cheek with fake sympathy, grasping your jaw roughly he forces you to look straight at Aaron, “Poor girl… guess boss man doesn’t care about you after all. What a waste,” he sighs his breath heavy against your cheek, as he moves to hold the knife to your throat again, “She’s so pretty,” he directs his commentary at Aaron this time.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’ve slept with her. How couldn’t I when she was practically throwing herself at me?” The words taste bitter on his tongue as he speaks them. His stomach churns as he continues, “But what we have certainly isn’t love”.

It couldn’t be further from the truth. Aaron grounds himself choosing to remember the quiet morning you two had shared only a few days earlier. Waking up without an alarm but with Jack sneaking in to jump up on the bed. As he watches you cry now he recalls how you had smiled so brightly at the little boy, ruffling his hair and cuddling Jack into your side. He had watched with a smile of his own as you bargained with his son, promising pancakes in exchange for ten more minutes of sleep on your shared day off.

You crept into his heart so slowly he had hardly noticed. Until one day, he looked up from the bright pink sticky note you'd left on your recent report, reminding him not to work too hard; he knew, without a doubt, he was in love with you.

For so much of his life, Aaron conditioned himself to expect a fight around every corner. He learned to make sacrifices from his happiness in fruitless attempts to keep peace. For the first time in forever he's been feeling like maybe, just maybe, he's enough. You’ve been more than patient with him; understanding his hesitance to open up to people again. You don't get upset with him for working late, but you scold him for not getting enough sleep and skipping meals.

He smiles more. He cracks jokes the way he used to. You've helped him see the forest from the trees-- healed parts of him he didn’t know needed mending. He's tried to do the same for you. He's watched you open up and trust the team more. He's seen the way your confidence has grown and he can't take credit for your growth, but he's enamoured by the transformation just the same.

You deserve better. You deserve better. You deserve better. The thought echoes in his head the same as it does most days. But now, it’s louder. The voice in his head matches the volume of the ringing in his ears, and the rushing sound of his pounding heart. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He fights to remind himself, but the UNSUB is laughing now. Taunting you and your emotions, and there’s nothing Aaron can do but sit there and watch. He struggles to feign indifference, watching as you continue to make yourself smaller. It’s only then that he notices that you too are working your hands out of the rope that restrains you. The UNSUB was stupid enough to tie your wrist in front of you.

Aaron’s eyes focus on the bandaid wrapped around your index finger. You cut yourself making dinner last week. He could have sworn his heart melted when you turned to him holding your hand out, blood beading already. “Aaron, where do you keep your first aid kit?” you’d asked. Your brows furrowed, and your lips pouted. “In the bathroom, the cabinet under the sink,” he’d answered with no intention of letting you go off and tend to your wound alone. Instead, he guided you down the hall, his left hand looped in a gentle hold around your wrist, his other hand on your waist.

Once you were sat on the countertop he took great care, making sure the wound was cleaned before he bandaged it. “My hero,” you teased, leaning in for a kiss.

A simple cut he could manage to fix. Jack promised you could use as many of his Star Wars bandaids as you wanted while you healed as well. A little love and patience could make it better, a philosophy he adopted to heal Jack’s scraped knees, and schoolyard bruises. But the sight before him now is far worse than any kitchen mishap could be.

Your nose is still bleeding. Bruises have already begun to form, red marks turning deep purple with every passing minute. He knows that your concussion is something you'll recover from. The contact burns from where the taser touched your skin will become new skin someday soon. The cuts and scrapes will scab over and then disappear.

Aaron worries the damage he's done can never truly be ameliorated. Your compassion is unmatched. It’s what makes you a good agent, a good partner, and someone Jack can turn to. You are forgiving. God knows you've excused enough of his behaviour. But, he doesn't deserve to be absolved of this guilt. He will carry this day around in the darkest corner of his heart; the same place he holds the memory of Haley and how he failed her. The words “what we have certainly isn't love,” will linger uneffaced by time or kind words.

The squeak of an old door opening piques Aaron's interest. The UNSUB doesn't react. Seemingly only interested in tracing the tear tracks on your cheeks. Your eyes are closing again. It's over now, he wants to tell you. He wants to hold you; comfort you; to apologise because you deserve to hear it anyway.

“Paul Simpson. FBI,” Morgan’s voice booms, “drop the knife and put your hands where I can see them”. Prentiss and Dave come to stand next to Morgan, their guns trained on the newly identified perpetrator. Aaron bites his tongue so hard he can taste blood-- it's all he can do to stop himself from bursting into a fit of bitter laughter. We win, he wants to say.

Disarmed and handcuffed, Paul is escorted outside by Morgan and two members of the local police. Prentiss and Rossi make quick work of untying you and Aaron.

“Aaron?” he can hear you mutter, breathy and quiet.

“Yeah, I’m right here,” he promises kneeling at your side. Your eyes are glazed and unfocused as you nod and tip forward. Unconscious, your entire body falls forward into Prentiss’ arms. Aaron’s voice joins Rossi in calling for a paramedic.

The doctors assure him that you’ll wake up soon. They dealt with his injuries quickly. Bruised ribs are the worst of his injuries. A cut at the back of his head and the taser burns were patched in only a few minutes, though he’ll readily admit he was far from a good patient. Too anxious to keep still much to the nurse’s dismay.

You’re still asleep. A major concussion will have you out of the field for much longer than he knows you’ll be happy with. He makes a mental note to start setting aside some extra paperwork for when you inevitably start hounding him for something to do. With the lights in the room dimmed, and a comfortable silence settling he allows himself to indulge in the illusion that everything might be alright between you.

With your hand in his, he breathes deeply trying to focus. He prays to a God he’s not sure he believes in. And when the quiet starts to get to him, he speaks out loud, as silly as he thinks he may look. He tells you about the phone call he had with Jack earlier and lets you know that Jack has a new painting he can’t wait to show you when you get home. Your hand squeezes his, encouraging him to keep talking.

“Aaron?” your eyelids flutter as you adjust to the light. The nurse had them turned to the dimmest setting but it’s still far more than you feel immediately capable of coping with.

“Yeah, honey,” he affirms. You release the breath you’re holding your brow relaxing.

“I love you,” you tell him. Your voice is steady and steadfast. Your resolve is impressive, unwavering and determined as you focus on making eye contact with him. “It’s not your fault,” you promise. He’s sure you don’t expect the weight on his shoulders to lighten instantaneously. You’ll tell him every day that he’s not to blame; intent on chiselling away at his guilt, shrinking it down before it manages to consume him.

“I love you,” he swears. He knows it won’t squash any of the doubt he’s planted. Aaron knows there will soon be days that the niggling insecurity threatens to break what you’ve managed to build together; when the worry that you aren’t enough seems louder than it ever has before. He won’t blame you if you decide it isn’t worth the pain of staying with him. But, he’s hell-bent on loving you through it. He can only hope that it’s enough.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds fic #hotch x reader

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lazycats-stuff · 24 days ago

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Male reader who’s Ra’s immortal enemies- to lovers- to friends - to annoyances - to married - to divorced - to friends - to I’ve known you for so long that I could stab you and I’d peck you on the cheek and you’d stab me with the same knife and kiss me till I pass out.

Kinda like Gomez and Morticia but Male reader is called grandma as a joke but after 3 centuries it kinda just stuck so he checks up on the league every 2 decades only to find Ra’s in a fight with the bats and just kinda gets a chair and watches before Dusan or Talia comes and says “MOTHER-!?” “Oh hey I brought snacks”

Oh my God, this sounds great. Lets do it. I may also added Damian calling the reader grandma. I just wanted to.

Summary: (Y/N) and Ra's know each other for a long time.

Warnings: both are a power couple, I swear, mentions of killing, stabbing each other, loving one another, a whole lot of relationships with this.

(Y/N) and Ra's al Ghul go a very long way back. Extremely long. About 400 years to be more specific. The two started off as enemies. And since the two were essentially immortal with the Lazarus pit. The two have killed each other more times they could count. It was stress relief almost for them both.

And they enjoyed the games they have played. Hunting each other down, trying to kill the other, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Not to mention, the bragging rights from (Y/N)'s side. It's no easy feat to kill Ra's al Ghul. And Ra's would strike back. It's a good way to get some stress out, just like said before.

But over time, something else grew and the two became lovers, loving each other fiercely. It was a love story for the ages, as the two would joke. In modern terms, they would be a true power couple. Both of them strong in their own right and if they are separated, they can both hold on their own. And if together?

True meaning of terror and fear in their world.

And they were a power couple for a long time.

But sooner than later, love started to fizzle out. And while they were married, they became friends. It was nice to have a friend in Ra's, despite being a killer and everything in between. Ra's is a loyal friend, the one who wouldn't betray you for anything. That's what (Y/N) knew at least. Of course, that same courtesy came from (Y/N).

Safe to say, the two were loyal to each other to the bone.

And even when they entered that stage of being purely and utterly annoyed with each other, they were still loyal to the bone to each other. It was rare to find a person like that, whom you could annoy to the point of stabbing each other. Which has happen before.

(Y/N) on his knees, Ra's holding a knife implanted in (Y/N)'s stomach, both of them smiling at each other. Even kissing each other while the knife was in one of them. Talk about twisted love. (Y/N) and Ra's have been through a lot and one of the things he remembers vividly is Talia's birth. And it was one of his favorite memories. He may or may have not cried when he held Talia for the first time. It is something that has officially ingrained into his brain.

He got called mother as a result. He didn't like it at first, however, it grew on him. Soon enough, it became an inside joke and he couldn't really be mad at it. It was something... It felt like home, (Y/N) would say.

Soon enough, (Y/N) started travelling, using Ra's' money to do so? Why? Ra's has enough of it already and travelling in the best hotels in the world wouldn't make a dent in his pocket. Never has and it never will. Ra's simply handed him the credit card with a smile and a kiss.

" Go wherever your heart desires beloved. "

And he did.

He travelled a lot, seeing the world, doing what his heart desired. Of course, he stayed in contact with Ra's and Talia during his travels. He would share updates about what he saw and learned. However, he came back once he heard that his daughter was pregnant. He was essentially going to be a grandfather.

Well, he would be a grandmother as the joke from years ago would come back to bite him in the ass. And it bit him hard. While Talia's pregnancy progressed, she would often talk to the baby, talking about how he will met grandmother (Y/N). And how did (Y/N) react?

He simply scoffed, saying it's too early in the day to deal with this. It would make Talia chuckle and Ra's would smirk, enjoying the sight of his husband getting teased.

Yes, husband.

They decided to remarry because the feelings have returned to romantical ones, they were no longer platonic. They would be back to spending time together, sitting on the balcony, sipping their wines and holding hands as they were watching the sunset. It felt just like old times.

And yes, he was present when Damian was born. He may or may have not cried in private. What can he say, he just felt like he had a family. Ra's was happy too, with an heir worthy of taking over the League. Of course, the father being Bruce Wayne, Damian is more than worthy of being the Leader once Ra's no longer there.

Once Damian turned 9, (Y/N) went back to travelling the world. He enjoyed it.

It's been years since he came back from the travel. The League was oddly quiet. (Y/N) didn't think much of it and came back to take a break, bringing food and gifts for everyone. He didn't expect to see a fight breaking out, but he has decided to stand by and watch. He was too jet lagged to even think about fighting. So he waited as he ate, completely entranced into the fight. Ra's fought with ferocity against Batman.

Talia was busy with the 4 birds, Damian included. He watched his daughter fighting, impressed by her skills. Ra's has taught her very well. He took a chair and then sat down to watch. Both Ra's and Talia fought with ferociousness, using every tactic they could remember to fight off the Bats as the family was called that to shorten it up.

And (Y/N) found the nickname really funny. He leaned back into the chair, watching in fascination.

" Mother?! " Talia exclaimed, making everyone freeze.

" Grandmother?! " Damian exclaimed, but from excitement. Damian didn't see him for a long time and Talia hadn't expected him to come back yet.

Damian run to him and (Y/N) gave him a hug. He missed his grandson and once he heard that he was in Gotham, he had an urge to visit. But God only knows how Bruce would have reacted. He probably wouldn't have let in anyhow. And despite (Y/N) being an Al Ghul, he has enough respect to not break into the Manor. And he didn't want to make a bad impression on his unofficial son in law.

" Hello Damian. How are you doing? " (Y/N) asked Damian, while everyone else watched.

" I've been doing well. And you grandmother? "

" Is that really still stuck? Call me grandpa. Not grandmother. "

" I prefer grandmother. "

" Of course you do. A Robin suit? Nice. I hope Bruce is treating you well. Otherwise I'll have to turn on my protective mode, " (Y/N) said to Damian, who actually chuckled.

" I'm doing well in Gotham. "

" Good. Good... Also, I might come to visit soon. " The last part was directed at Bruce and (Y/N) wasn't going to take no for an answer. His grandson comes first. Alongside his daughter.

" Now, fighting is over. I'm jet lagged beyond belief so I would kindly ask the birds and the big bat to leave. Fight in a few weeks, I don't care. Right now, some peace and quiet sounds good, " (Y/N) has declared, making Ra's smirk.

" Of course beloved. Anything for you. " Ra's said and (Y/N) nodded, happy to have his way after the stupid jet lag.

" Good. Also, nice to meet you the rest of the birds, but I have no time to chat. " (Y/N) took his things into his hands and then left to his shared bedchambers with Ra's.

#dc comics #x male reader #dc x male reader #ra's al ghul x male reader

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thepunkmuppet · 1 year ago

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the possible future of the hatchetfield series: hatchetfield halloween party livestream full rundown

again apologies if someone has already done something like this, but I’m procrastinating doing my coursework and just want to talk about hatchetfield I want everyone to be aware of this exciting stuff that was announced in the stream so here you go:

the next starkid musical to be released will not be in the hatchetfield universe.

the guy who didn’t like musicals will soon be ready to license.

nightmare time 3 was originally planned to be released in the same year as nightmare time 2 and will wrap up the overarching nightmare time stories (which seem to be miss holloway and the foster sisters respectively).

if they did a fourth hatchetfield musical, it would be about miss holloway and her backstory. it is already written. I am very very extremely normal about this fact 😃

there is a possibility of a hatchetfield movie, and workin’ boys was sort of a test for this concept. it would be a slasher murder mystery centering around the hatchetfield community players (zoey chambers and the cast of workin’ girls, possibly also with ruth, hidgens, alice and any other theatre-oriented characters but that part’s just my speculation). the transcription of the teaser description can be found below the nmt descriptions.

ok so here are the transcriptions of the nmt3 episode descriptions:

Story #1: Bottle Imps

Bill Woodward has been chosen to test CCRP’s latest and greatest product; Bottle Imps. These reality-bending buddies will bring their owner the one thing they desire most. When his new imp, Lovely, leads him to his soulmate, Bill decides to use his magical companion to play matchmaker. But to help Charlotte find the man of her dreams, Bill will have to bend the Imp’s rules. Rules he’s been warned, must never be broken…

Story #2: Frankenruth

Desperate to see a naked body, Ruth Fleming and Richie Lipschitz volunteer at the morgue of St. Damien’s Hospital. Their terrible plan becomes exponentially more terrible, when they become unwitting subjects in the experiments of the body-snatching madman, Doctor Laszlo, who claims to have conquered death itself. If Hatchetfield thought Ruth was bad before, then they will cower before the unspeakable horror of… Frankenruth!

Story #3: Becky Barnes Climbed a Tree

Becky Barnes is on top of the world! Not in a literal sense, of course. She’s deathly afraid of heights. After years of struggle, Becky’s life is finally everything she dreamed it would be. She’s engaged to her high school sweetheart, Tom Houston, and the two have a surprise baby on the way! But, as the couple prepare for the arrival of baby Marie, a shadow from Becky’s past returns to haunt them.

Story #4: Devil’s Night

Tim Houston has a crush. Unfortunately, it’s on his older, mature and totally cool babysitter, Grace Chasity, who he fears will never see him as anything but a snot-nosed little kid. But when a devilish maniac with murderous designs on Grace attacks Hatchetfield the night before Halloween, Tim must protect his beloved, or join the killer’s growing body count. It’s another slashing adventure on the night HE came home… Devil’s Night.

Story #5: (long special episode) Miss Holloween

It’s Halloween in Hatchetfield once again, and Miss Holloway is celebrating the same way she’s done for decades, staving off the horrors that go bump in the night. But when Duke gives her an invitation to his wedding, the dejected Miss Holloway begins to chafe under the terms of a contract forged many years ago. She strikes a new bargain, but unfortunately her creditors are known for their tricks, not treats. Just as Miss Holloway gives up her powers in exchange for a mortal life, a monstrous new threat rears its ugly head. As All Hallows Eve descends, and all Hell breaks loose, Miss Holloway must save the town or die trying… for real this time.

Story #6: (long special episode / season finale) Orb Weaver

Lex Foster had a life once. A home. A boyfriend. Now there is only the road, and her sister, and the fear of the men who are hunting them. As Hannah Foster watched Lex sink deeper into despair, she is certain of only three things: Webby is gone. She cannot help them. They are alone. Elsewhere, an old soldier awakens from a catatonic state. Returned from some unimaginable Hell with a mission. He knows that somewhere, two magical girls require immediate evac… then maybe some coffee.

very important: if you want nightmare time 3, WATCH NIGHTMARE TIME 2. BUY A TICKET TO THE LIVESTREAM. SHOW THAT THERE IS LOVE AND DEMAND AND IT’S WORTH THEIR TIME AND MONEY I AM BEGGING YOU

hatchetfield movie: Cast Party Massacre

The Hatchetfield Community Players. You will never find a cattier troupe of two-faced thespians. But when the blood begins to flow at their latest show’s cast party, they must consider: is there a secret murderer in their midst? And more importantly, who amongst them is a good enough actor to pull off such a performance? Can they set aside their petty squabbles and tangled romances, or is it curtains for this ensemble? Who will survive… the Cast Party Massacre!

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lurochar · 3 months ago

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Codependency (Pt. 2)

18+ MDNI

Part 1

Warnings: DARK headcanons. Implications of child abuse. Incestuous relationship (nothing explicit happens). HIT THE BACK BUTTON NOW/SCROLL PAST IF THIS BOTHERS YOU/MAKES YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE!

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There are no morals in Hell. It doesn’t take very long for you and Alastor to figure this out. It was the taboos of society that stopped you both from furthering your relationship beyond the near kisses, even though you and Alastor had already broken the ultimate taboo of murder – multiple, multiple times at that.

Still, it does take years and years for you and Alastor to break past the comfort zone you had both settled into. Alastor is completely aware you are his half sister and despite his status as a sociopathic cannibalistic serial killer, he believed it may have been a step too far to do anything of that nature with you. He never once stopped to think to end the codependence you had started to develop early on, however.

You were the only person Alastor loved beside his mother and after his mother died, he fixated all of his love upon you. You were dependent on him, he needed to take care of you – you were his, after all. However, due to the fact you were raised in two abusive households – your prostitute mother neglected you for clients and Mr. Hartfelt didn’t care for you – you had a very skewed view of what familiar love was, even if Mrs. Hartfelt tried her best.

Because there are no morals in Hell, Alastor and you are free to do whatever you please without any consequences as long as you have the power to do so. You may not be as powerful as Alastor since you can’t control radio waves, but due to the sins you stacked up in life, you are formidable in your own right. You and Alastor rise up to Overlords in record time.

It’s not as though you and Alastor tell anyone of your screwed-up relationship and you don’t tell anyone that you’re actually related, but you learned to relax over the years if anyone did find out. Who cares, what could they possibly do anyway? Alastor would just go devour them and this was Hell. There were much worse Sinners out there and it’s not as if you and Alastor were the first incestuous couple to fall to Hell and you wouldn't be the last.

The older Overlords knew and they could care less. You figured they have seen much in their long lives and very little could faze them.

It’s only when you and Alastor end up at the ‘Happy Hotel’ quickly rebranded to the ‘Hazbin Hotel’ that you start running into others who start to meddle…

Well, other than Vox.

He’s just meddling to try to squeeze himself between you and Alastor and your legs.

But that’s a different story.

----

Taglist: @queenofmorningstar @ally-glow @martinys-world @tayraedoll @n0tmentallystable @areyoujoe @gbearyacorn

(I hoped you wanted to be tagged since you asked for part 2!)

#alastor x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #tw: incest

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chosoisamalewife · 8 months ago

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Toji x male!reader

A/N : I can't find the ask for this but here it is

A/N Ik I am not posting in order but I already had this done

A/N MY DILF 😫

🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋

Warning : does contain smut ,somnophillia, temperature play, dumbification, marking, breeding kink, dacryphillia , praise kink , degrading, pain , mentions gun kink ..... I think that's it

Upon contrary belief this man is LOYAL

When he is in a relationship, he is in a relationship. He will NOT cheat

He is more priavate however once yall are alone he will worship the groud you walk on

When yall are in public he will either stand behind you in a protective manner or standing next to you with his hand resting on your back

He isn't picky with dates, he is honestly down with whatever you would like to do

His favorite pass time with you is laying on his back while you are laying directly on top of him just listening to you talk about whatever or watching something you enjoy. Would continuously caress your back gently (sometimes his hands will go lower) His goal of doing this is making you fall asleep on him and if you do he can’t help put to stare at how peaceful you look. There has been a few times where he falls asleep with you.

There was one time he fell asleep for you and you just laid on him tracing his features

Another one of his favorite things to do with you is cooking with you

LOVES TAKING SHOWERS AND BATHS WITH YOU

They don't even always lead to sexual acts, he just genuinely loves spending time with you and loves the feeling of you washing him. He will return the favor ofc

Now in baths (you have a big enough bathtub for him) he loves for you to lay on his chest as he plays with your hands. Sometimes he will whisper sweet nothings in your ear, other time yall just sit in each other's company

He would like a man who is intimidating but I feel like he would truly like a man who is totally different from him

Your soft and friendly personality adding a great contrast to his, and oh he can’t help but to soften around you and fawn over you

If you know how to do makeup, he would let you put it on him ONCE and that’s it’s so you better savor it. However that means he gets to do your makeup in return

WOULD KILL FOR YOU FREE OF CHARGE

Now if you are a killer like him then yall are the baddest couple to walk the earth. We love a power couple

NSFW

TOP!

Remember when I say he would worship you

Yeah bc he has a huge praise kink. “There you go baby, you take me so well”

Oooooo he loves to fuck you infront of a mirror so you can see what he does to you. His hand would stay on your face making sure you watch “Don’t look away baby.” “Look how pretty you look taking my cock” "Watch yourself cum"

SIZE KINK he a big man in multiple ways

LIKE IM TALKING AT LEAST 8 INCHES SOFT

WILL MARK YOU UP WITH DARK HICKIES, covering up with foundation won't help, might as well just wear a turtle neck.

Sex with him can go one of two way, good old love making with him absolutely worshiping you and praising you. OR him fucking you dumb

When he is rough, HE IS ROUGH.

He will mix slight praise with heavy degradation. He would have a hand on your throat pounding into you roughly. "You are such a fucking slut that your ass can't help but taking me so well." "MY dumb slut always so good for me"

His goal is fuck you till you can't take it anymore. Till you are dumb, the only time he likes to see you cry is when he is fucking you

Is into somnophillia but y’all would come up with a sign to show. For example if he walks into your room and you are laying there naked with a plug in it means it’s okay for him to have his way with you

And he will take his time too, he loves to watch you stir in your sleep and whimper in your sleep while he is kissing down your body and softly playing with your cock. He will lick the rim of your plug that sits inside of you, watching as you gasp softly and stir. Once you start stirring to much he will stop and let you fall back deep into slumber until waking you when he is fully ready to take you

Once you start to wake up he will always reassure you that it is him

Another contrary belief he will not have a gun kink, he would keep that shit separated from you so it will not be involved in y’all’s sex life

Can he be rough and mean? Yes but he doesn’t want to see that thing near you let alone pointed at you no matter if it isn’t loaded. (MIGHT be different if you are a killer like him)

However he is into pain and temperature play, especially wax play

You are his canvas while the wax is his paint. Loves to watch you hiss and arch as the hot wax drips onto your skin. You hisses quickly becoming whimpers

He didn't think your body can look more perfect until he saw your body covered in dark love bites, dried colorful wax and a mix of both of yall's cum dried.

BREEDING KINK, even if he can't get you pregnant he will still taking about filling you up with his cum and "breeding" you

Pretty basic at after care, he will check to see if you are okay (especially after a rough time) and get you a rag and wipe both of yall clean. But he will get or do anything you request without hesitation.

🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋

LET ME GIVE YOU ANOTHER KID TOJI

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x male reader #male reader #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x male reader #toji smut #jjk toji #x reader #xreader

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dreamescapeswriting · 9 months ago

Text

Only When It Comes To You ~ LMH

CONTINUATION OF THIS PART

WORD COUNT:3.7K

GENRE: MINORS DNI, smut, couple finally getting together, dates, sweet, valentines day themed, protected sex, oral (Both receiving) swearing

PAIRING: Mafia!Minho x Fem!Reader ( @meloncremesoda )

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - February 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

Minho stood outside the out-of-date cat sanctuary that his men had been working on for almost 3 months now, it was taking far too long for them to get the work done and he was on the verge of hiring new people just to get it done faster. But he knew there was no rushing perfection, which was the same excuse he had given his right-hand man, Jisung when he had asked why Minho hadn't asked you out on a date yet.

It had been the topic of discussion that morning in his office with Jisung calling his boss a "pussy" for not just asking you out right away. Which, he had. He'd asked you that night you met and you'd joked about him not giving up which was true but after that, you never went out. Minho wasn't scared of asking you again but he didn't want to make you uncomfortable by constantly looming over your shoulder with the prospect of a date.

But now he was standing it with a bouquet of roses in his hand, sweat dripping down his forehead and no doubt drenching his brand new suit that he was wearing. The evening sun cast long shadows on the street as he nervously adjusted his suit, the faint scent of the flowers adding a touch of irony to his appearance. Even though he was known as a tough figure in the city's underworld, Minho was more accustomed to dark alleys than the doorstep of a cat sanctuary. Though he used to volunteer in them before he was who he was today.

Swallowing the lump in his throat he began to hype himself up for going in to talk to you.

Part of him worried he wasn't good enough for you, you were known for your love of felines and your dedication to the well-being of the furry residents, what if he wasn't good enough for you?

Besides, the two of you were so different to one another, one was a killer and the other was a drop of sunshine, who was he kidding? You were the whole fucking sunshine, sighing to himself he turned around to get back into his car when he noticed Jisung smirking at him from across the street.

"What are you doing? I thought you weren't scared?" He called out, teasing his boss just a little as Minho grumbled something under his breath.

"I forgot something in the car," He tried to lie but Jisung just shook his head and started to make chicken noises fueling Minho as he turned around and walked into the car sancurary.

The tinkling bell announced his arrival as he pushed open the door, the soft purring of cats making him smile as he glanced around. All of the cats were free to roam the building since there were now items on the walls for them to climb and play with whenever they saw fit. Minho smiled to himself as he looked around, finding you checking over a cat and his whole heart had stopped in his chest.

You stood there, beautiful as ever, wearing a colourful apron adorned with paw prints, after looking up from tending to a playful tabby you smiled over at him. It wasn't a fake smile either, it was a smile that reached your ears and made Minho's entire heart skip a beat.

"Minho?" You asked, surprise evident in your voice.

"What are you doing here?" Ever since he'd asked you out and disappeared on you, you figured he'd regret asking you and was doing everything within his power to avoid you which had hurt you a lot since you'd been looking forward to seeing him again.

Minho scratched the back of his head, a nervous habit he couldn't quite shake as he tried to find the words to speak but all of them were lost on him as you made your way in his direction.

"Hey, YN. I, uh, brought these for you." He extended the bouquet toward you, a mix of red and white roses contrasting against the dark fabric of his suit and you smiled at him, your eyes widened in astonishment as you accepted the flowers.

"Oh my gosh. These are beautiful. Thank you." You took in a deep sniff of the flowers before making your way to the back, Minho closely following behind as he wanted to ask you again to dinner but this time he was going to stick to it.

As you began to pour some water into a vase you cut off the stems of the flowers in silence, the sound of the scissors suddenly felt like a ticking clock for Minho and he cleared his throat, suddenly feeling the weight of the moment.

"Listen, Yn, I was wondering if you'd, you know, want to grab dinner with me sometime. Maybe this weekend?" Your hands froze on what they were doing and you turned around to look at him in surprise,

"Are we going to arrange something this time?" You teased softly, a soft pink blush began to set onto Minho's chest as he stuttered over his words a little. He had no explanation other than that he'd been too nervous to make a move again.

"I thought you'd regret asking me when you never showed up again." You admit shyly, looking back down at the flowers before putting them all into the water and looking back at Minho who was now smiling at you.

"Never. I was unsure how to approach you again, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable by asking you again." He admitted, looking at you before chuckling nervously which was a rare sight for someone with his reputation.

"I'd love to have dinner this weekend with you," You smile, writing your number down on a piece of scrap paper and handing it to him.

"Text me the details this time." You winked at him as Minho's face broke out into a genuine grin.

"I will, it's a date." He told you before making his way out of the cat sanctuary. Unbeknownst to you, Minho already had your number - since it hadn't been that hard to find but he'd been too scared to message you on it.

As he left the cat sanctuary, the doorbell echoed his departure and he couldn't help but smile brightly as he stepped out into the streets and he made his way to his car already planning what he was going to do for your date that weekend.

"Whoa," You breathed out as Minho helped you out of the car and smiled warmly at you. He was dressed in an all-black suit and looked drop-dead handsome and now you were worrying that you hadn't dressed fancy enough for tonight.

This wasn't your first date, far from it in fact, this was the sixth date you'd been on with Minho in the past month and a half and the two of you were spending Valentine's Day together, something you'd never done with anyone before.

"You like it?" Minho asked as he shifted on his feet a little. The restaurant was one of his own and he worried it wasn't good enough for you.

"It's incredible but I suddenly feel underdressed." You admitted, looking down at the dress you were wearing. It was a black silk dress that reached your knees but everyone inside looked as though they were dressed to go to a charity gala.

"You look perfect, I promise," Minho whispered in your ear as he took your hand into his and slowly headed inside the restaurant. People turned to gawk at the two of you but you just stared at Minho while you walked.

Soft jazz music played in the background as Minho sat you down before taking the seat across from you. The two of you were seated at a private table that could still be seen by other guests and there were candles laid out all over your table, as well as rose petals.

You took in the elegant surroundings, trying not to feel uncomfortable with the way that everyone was staring in your direction which was something people did a lot when you were together.

A waiter came over instantly and poured you both some water and wine before a man in a chef's outfit stood with a giant smile on his face.

"I have the perfect menu planned for our special guests tonight. You will be wowed!" He called out with a giant smile on his face, you smiled back at him impressed that he was standing with you.

"This place is amazing. Where did you find it?" You questioned once the waiter and chef left you both alone, Minho chuckled as he watched you pick up the glass of water and slowly take a sip.

"I own it." He stated, making you choke on your water a little, carefully you put the glass down and stare at him.

"It's one of my ventures and I thought I'd bring you here tonight." You knew he owned many businesses but you never would have pictured Minho in the restaurant business.

"Ah yes, VIP treatment from the boss," You teased as he chuckled, taking your hand in his on the table, slowly tracing his fingers over your skin

"So do you bring all your girls here?" You teased as he lifted your hand to his lip and kissed it softly,

"Only the special ones." He winks making your whole body heat up at his attention. The two of you had discussed dating history and it seemed Minho hardly ever went out on dates, deciding that the dating game had been over for him for years until he found you.

"The sanctuary is almost done, I can't wait to be able to hire new people though, I'm exhausted." You admitted with a small sigh. You adored all of the cats you had but working almost always alone was tiring, especially when you had no time for yourself.

"I'll make sure I find plenty of people to sign up for the job," Minho told you as he lifted his glass to drink from it. The last thing he wanted was you so rushed off your feet that he could no longer see you.

"You're just saying that so I'll have more free time for you." You giggled a little and Minho cocked his eyebrow up,

"Am I that obvious?"

"Only when it comes to me," You winked at him,

"Only when it comes to you," He whispered back, it was true. There was something about you that made him completely different from who he was supposed to be and he never wanted that to change.

"We should have dessert at mine tonight." You told him suddenly, it was forward of you but you were tired of waiting for him to make the first move and you'd already decided it would be tonight.

You'd worn an underwear set which was red and covered in hearts and kisses that you couldn't wait go him to see.

"Oh? What do you have planned?" He arched a brow at you in confusion until he felt your foot slowly rubbing up and down his leg in a seductive motion.

"You," You whispered before the food arrived at the table and for the first time Minho couldn't wait for the date to be over so he could go home with you.

Getting home had felt like the longest drive in the world to you but that was nothing compared to the awkwardness you were feeling as you stood across from Minho in your living room.

You'd had this all planned out, you were going to kiss him on the sofa until you finally made a move but now you felt so unsure of everything.

"Yn," He whispers when he sees you started to play with the skin around your fingers, your gaze meets him and he gestures for you to come toward him and he smirks pulling you onto his lap.

"You're cute when you're nervous." He tells you, slowly running his fingers over the straps of your dress making your whole body shiver.

"You're cute when you're nervous." You mocked back at him before he kissed you deeply, your fingers tracing the outline of his face as all of your worries melted away around you. Minho's lips moved down your neck as he began to pepper your skin with kisses, your hands slowly moving the straps of your dress down revealing the underwear set you'd worn for him.

"Fitting," He whispered as he let his thumb trace over the fabric, your breath catching in your throat as his thumb ran over your hardened nipple.

"I wanted to be dressed for you," You admitted shyly as Minho blushed bright red, unzipping the back of your dress and letting it fall to your hips.

"You look so beautiful." He breathed out as you got up from his lap and let the dress fall to the floor revealing the matching panties.

"Fuck," He groans out as you pull him up by his tie, slowly leading him up the stairs his eyes were on your ass the whole time, his cock growing so hard it was almost painful.

As you walked into the bedroom you kissed Minho again, pulling off all his clothes until he was naked in front of you.

"Are you sure about this?" He questioned, not wanting to go any further if you weren't ready but you took his hand in yours and slowly rubbed your clit through your panties.

"More than sure...P-Please," You begged a little as Minho smirked, slowly rubbing your clit and biting down on his lip as he thought about wet you were for him.

"Best Valentine's Day ever," He whipped before laying you down gently on the bed, slowly - and carefully - taking off your panties as you let out a strained whine. You didn't want slow right now,

"I need you," You pleaded with him as he smirked at you kissing down your stomach until he reached your cunt and he chuckled to himself.

"You're cute when you beg."

"Minho." You hissed out, too impatient for any games tonight and he chuckled deeply before he pushed two fingers into you making your back arch off the bed

"F-Fuck, yes." You moaned out as Minho watched you, his fingers slowly picking up the pace as he pushed them in and out of you. Moans and curses fell from your lips as you clawed at his hair,

"You want my mouth?" He cooed out in a sarcastic voice, making you glare down at him.

"Please." You didn't care if you sounded desperate, you were, you needed him and you weren't ashamed of him knowing about it as you pulled him closer to your core. Within seconds he took your clit into his mouth and began to suck on you softly, swirling his tongue around the nug making you see stars as you shifted below him.

"Minho," You cried out as your back arched further off the bed, clenching around his fingers as he began to pick up the pace thrusting them in and out of you.

"You like it when I play with your pretty cunt?" He asked before curling his fingers inside of you making you whine.

"M-Minho." You gasped out, feeling the tightness begin to build in your stomach as he curled his finger, adjusting his position and sucking harsher on your clit.

"Cum for me, I want you to cum." He moaned out against your clit, the vibrations making the coil in your stomach tighten until it snapped.

"Oh shit...F-Fuck!" You cried out as you came around his fingers but Minho continued to finger you until you came down from your high and he smirked up at you.

"M-My turn," You whimpered, barely giving him any time to say anything before you took him into your hand and slowly began to pump him. Curses fell from his lips as you lowered your head to his cock, spitting onto him as you rubbed him softly.

"M-More," His voice cracked as he spoke, if any of his men had heard him beg right now he'd never live it down but he didn't care.

"Fuck," He grunts as you placed a teasing lick on the underside of the tip of his cock, his head rolling backwards as a grunt left his throat. The moans left him fueling you more as you took him into your mouth, slowly bobbing your head.

"Your mouth feels so good." He lets out lowly, his groans growing louder as you continue to bob your head up and down, swirling your tongue around him as you reach the top. Drool dripped down his cock as he watched you intently,

"You take it so well," He moans out as you took his balls in your hand, softly playing with them until you felt his cock twitch inside your mouth.

"S-Shit...S-Shit," He jerks away from you, surprising you as you whimper.

"Did I do something wrong?" You questioned as he shook his head at you, kissing you deeply as he laid you below him. Minho had been so close to cuming and he wanted to finish with you. You reached for a condom from your top drawer and rolled it onto him as he let out a whimper

"Yn," He moans as you line him up at your entrance,

"Fuck me already," You giggled as he grunted, slowly racing your slit with the tip of his dick before sinking into you making you throw your head back against the mattress and moan out.

Minho bottomed out inside of you, his hips meeting yours and giving you a chance to adjust to the new feeling.

"You're so big," You whined out, hasp[ing a little as he smirked at you/

"You can take it." He whispered as he slowly began to move.

The sounds inside of the room were filthy, Minho's cursing mixed with your moans and the sound of skin slapping together was music to your ears. Everything you'd been dreaming of since your first interaction finally coming true

"F-Feels so fucking good," You cried out as you rolled your hips up to meet his, feeling the pressure once again building in your stomach.

"S-Shit baby, I can feel you clenching, you close?" He groaned out, thrusting faster as he reached out and rubbed your clit between you, your hips jerking up to match his brutal pace as you cried out his name. Your nails dragged down his back, your eyes rolled back as you arched into him.

"Cum for me, kitten! Just like that," He encouraged as he continued to fuck into you harder.

"Minho!" You cry out coming undone around him, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him closer to you as he twitches, spilling into the condom with a moan of your name.

The two of you lay there in one another arms, cuddled up together as you catch your breath.

"So, next weekend I have a gala to go to, do you want to be my date?" Minho chuckles softly as you nod, kissing his chest.

~ A year later~

"I'm telling you now, if you rip this bra I'll kill you." You told your boyfriend as you stood in his office dressed in nothing but a new underwear set you'd gotten yourself for Valentine's Day and he growled throwing everything off his desk and placing you on top of it ready to spend another Valentine's Day with the love of his life.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp

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madamechrissy · 4 months ago

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Take Me Home Tonight

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Gojo is 28-29 here, reader is like 22 or 23. Nothing too crazy. But is Professor/teacher forbidden type love. Some fingering and teasing and dirty talk this chap

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 8k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ After passing your LSATs, your friends take you out to unwind. You never go out, so you are awkwardly agree, and you end up in the arms of a super hot man named Satoru. You end up screaming Satoru's name as he drops down on his knees before you, only to lose him in the club. All you have is his first name.

Two months later, in your Criminal Law class, your heart stops. Your teacher? Professor Gojo. Or as you soon call him, Professor Dickhead. You can't fuck up your law school, and he won't fuck up his career, not just because he makes you wet in class, no, he's a dick. Right?

That pout and blue eyes don't wreck you, right?

Chapter 1 Masterlist

Chapter 2

You have no clue how you have survived these past couple of weeks, of watching Satoru… or Professor Dickhead… walk through the halls, like he owned them, hands in his pockets, dressed constantly like a million bucks. Of him lecturing your class, his eyes catching yours just so. Of his little comments, as he challenged you constantly in every class.

You mull over your day in class as you thumb through a philosophy book in the library.

"Let's consider another scenario.” He looks at you, and you sigh when he calls your name, he frequently gives you the hardest questions.

“Yes, Professor Gojo?” Professor Dickhead.

“Say you are a defense attorney representing a client accused of murder. The evidence against your client is overwhelming, and you even think that they may truly be guilty. However, your client confesses to you that they are innocent, and that the real killer is someone else who will strike again if they are convicted. What do you do?"

The question hangs in the air like a storm cloud, pressing down on you. You can feel the blood rushing to your face, your heart racing in your chest. The class is silent, taking pity on you, as they usually did, since Gojo loved to throw advanced moral dilemmas your way.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "I would have to do everything in my power to find the real killer, Professor Gojo. I would gather as much evidence as possible and investigate every lead, no matter how small. Even if it meant risking my client, I would not give up until justice was served."

There's a murmur of agreement from some of the students, but you can also sense the unease in the air. You can feel Professor Gojo's icy blue gaze burning into you, and you know that he's not just evaluating your answer, but he’s evaluating you , looking down your face, your lips, briefly at your chest, heating you up with every second he stands there.

"An admirable answer, I suppose." He says finally, voice dripping with sarcasm. You’re bright fucking red on your cheeks and ears now. "But let's consider the consequences of that. If you were to go down this path, you might be seen as an obstructive defense attorney, who is so obsessed with the truth she hurts her client.”

You gulp, hating the way he leans on your desk, how he casually destroys your psyche. “With all due respect Professor Gojo, I disagree.”

He raises a brow, smirking, looking so handsome you wanna smack him. There had been nothing but shared looks for two weeks, you all had crossed no lines, but every move of his makes you ache, so you despise him more. “Oh? You disagree, do you? Explain, please.”

“What sort of attorney would I be if I don’t seek the truth?”

“A shit one for defense. You’re thinking about prosecution.” His voice is mocking, as he leans forward on your desk now. “Even so, what if despite your best efforts, you were unable to find the real killer? Your client's fate rests solely on your shoulders."

You feel a knot forming in your stomach. The weight of his words is crushing, and you can't help but wonder if you've made the right choice, being here, you begin to feel those hits of doubt. Professor Gojo's gaze pierces you like a knife, making you feel exposed.

You take a deep breath and steel yourself. "My responsibility as their lawyer is to provide them with the best possible advice and guidance of course, while also upholding my own personal values. I will not put those aside."

The classroom is silent as your words hang in the air. You can feel the tension building, as if everyone is holding their breath, waiting to see how this will play out. You glance over at Professor Gojo, and his expression is unreadable, as his lips then turn up, into a little smirk, shocking you.

“You stand by your convictions, even if it fucks you over? Fucks over your entire career?” His voice raises a bit, that silken timbre hitting hard. You nod, and the bell thankfully rings. “We’ll touch more on that next week.”

The class files out, and so many people go up to him, to his desk, to ask questions or to talk, you slip out quickly, heart fucking racing. He seemed to delight in putting you on the spot, in pushing his experience and authority on you. It was overwhelming. But in a weird way, it gives you some fucking insane thrill, one you question…

***

You peek at your phone, Maki is inviting you to a party tonight. Though at the same school, you all don’t see each other much, in different dorms and different classes. You answer with an ambiguous maybe, sighing when you think of the last time you went out… when that infuriating man made you cum so fucking hard you throb thinking of it.

Fucking Gojo.

You thumb through the book, as a pretty girl comes in, wearing a gorgeous red business suit. She smiles at you, her hair is a dark brown with bangs that gently frame her face, she has a little scar on her cheek that seems to only make her more captivating. She walks to you, smiling.

“Heard Professor Gojo is giving you a hard time, huh?” You flush at that, looking down a bit. “I’m Professor Geto’s teaching assistant. Utahime.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Ms. Utahime. I've seen you around.” You stand and shake her hand, which has a surprisingly strong grip.

“Of course. I've been getting started at this new position. But Gojo? He’s a shithead.” You snort at that, and she grins. “He’s a damn good lawyer, and teacher, but he pushes hard. He pushed me very hard, I think I contemplated killing him and being my own attorney.”

You burst out laughing then, you instantly like her. “He’s a challenging professor, which I enjoy, but he certainly is-”

“Fucking gorgeous? I know ladies, you don’t have to go on about it.” Gojo walks in, his Gucci shades on, thankfully covering those ridiculous eyes of his, and his hair is casually falling over his forehead. Utahime scowls at him.

“You fucking wish, Gojo.” He sticks his tongue out at her, she flips him off, and you can’t stop your giggle.

“Something funny, Miss Brat?” He demands, staring at you, and Utahime shoves at him now. He runs around the empty library as she smacks at him.

“Gojo, do not even!”

“What Hime, jealous? Ouch!” She thwacks him good then, and you’re enamored how wild these ‘professionals’ are. In a way it’s kinda fucking awesome.

“Her name isn’t Miss Brat . Get your shit together, god.”

“You’re still sad I didn’t fuck you that night, hmm? After all these years! Ow, shit that hurts! That’ll leave a fucking mark!”

“I never wanted to fuck you, dickhead. Ugh. Anyway, let me know if you need anything…” She says your name, turning from a vicious little thing to a sweetheart, you smile at her, and Gojo scowls.

“I will, I really appreciate that! I’ll see you in class tomorrow?”

“Absolutely. Bye hunny.” She waves, scowling at Gojo as she shoves past him, and he huffs.

“Bye Hime!” She flips him off again, storming out, and you’re in a fit of giggles now, until his gaze catches you, pushing down those round shades just so. “Well, Miss Brat, whatchya reading hmm?”

He snatches the book from your hands, and you glare up at him, standing up and trying to grab it, but fucker was way too tall, you end up hopping up as he grins like some psycho, holding it out of your reach. You huff and he peers up at it, pursing those pretty glossy lips of his.

“Hmm… didn’t take you for an Aristotle girl.” He muses, and you sigh, sitting back down, crossing your arms and glaring up at him.

“What does that even mean?” You demand, and he pulls a chair, spinning it and straddling it, resting his arms on the back casually. You gulp, thinking how fucking hot he looks, shoving that down hard.

“Figured you’d like Plato. Aristotle is a bit too logical for someone as feisty as you.” He says, flipping through the pages, his eyes scanning over it.

“I can be logical…” He smirks at that. You roll your eyes. “What are you doing here anyway?” You ask, and he smirks, placing the book down in front of you, leaning across with those stupid long arms. All of him was stupid long…

Fuck.

“Blushing? From me just near you?” He taunts, leaning closer, you take a shaky breath, inhaling that likely expensive cologne he wore that made him even more delectable to you.

Fuck Fuck.

“No, it's just warm in here.” He laughs at your lie, and you pick the book back up, flipping to the page you were on and trying to ignore him.

“Hmm, I have an idea, Miss Brat.”

“That’s not my name, Professor Dickhead. What’s the idea?” Your eyes narrow as he slides off his shades, those glittering eyes boring into your face.

“Write a ten page essay on this book.” He taps the philosophy book you’re reading, you frown at that.

“I have enough work to do. Why extra, on philosophy?”

“Because you’ll get a reward for it. Something no one gets as a first semester, let alone a first year. What ya think?” You bite your lip a bit, taking a shaky little breath. “You’re tempted, hmm?”

“What reward?” Your eyes narrow, and he throws back his head with laughter, making you flush more.

“Not anything like that, you’re such a pervy little brat.” You scowl, standing then and gathering your books. He grips your wrist, your throat goes dry at the touch, looking down at him and his fucking grin. “Stop, you haven’t even heard me out.”

You exhale, yanking your arm back, hating what every little brush of his skin did to your body. “Go ahead.”

“I’ll take you on a field trip.” He says with a grin, you roll your eyes, snorting, before laughing hard. He glares, yanking your wrist again. “Excuse me, Miss Brat, I am your professor. You’re so disrespectful.”

“Sorry. A field trip? To where, the Zoo, Sir?” You keep giggling, and he stands, shutting them up when he’s just an inch from you with that hard body. You exhale, biting your lip again, and he gently puts his thumb to your lip, easing it from out of your teeth, shooting desire hard through your entire body.

“I wish corporal punishment was still a thing. I’d whip the fuck out of you.” He glares, and you don’t laugh then, because the thought of Gojo bending you over his desk smacking you? Yeah that did insane things…

“Sorry, Mr. Gojo.” You manage, sighing and looking up at him, clutching your books nervously to your chest. “Go ahead.”

“I’ll bring you to the case I’m working on, it’s a big one-”

“The fucking case where where the politician’s son is accused of killing that prostitute?” You interrupt, your eyes wide, he smirks.

“You would know what case I'm in. Stalker .”

You roll your eyes. “Not at all… but of course I know about it. It’s all over the news and everything. I heavily follow cases. How the fuck can I get on that? Like would the school let me?”

“Easy, write the essay. Impress me, and I’ll get the approval for it. You’re a star student already, it should be easy for you to come along. Maybe it’ll help you decide on a major, seeing the real world of law, hmm?” He suggests, and you nod eagerly. “Knew you’d be in for it. One more condition.”

“What, anything!” He smirks at your enthusiasm, and you brush your hair back nervously.

“I need it done by tomorrow. And you’ll read it out to me.” You frown at that, brows knitting, as you think of the work you’re swamped with. “If you can read it proficiently, under pressure, I’ll take you.”

“Under pressure?” You sigh when he smirks again. “Fuck… I mean… yeah, I’ll do it. I can.”

“Exactly what I thought.” He brushes the backs of his fingers against your cheek, and you tense, eyes locking on his lips. “You’re wearing makeup.”

“Um… yeah, I do a lot.”

“Not face makeup. Usually just your eyes.” You blink at that, wishing you could make your heart stop racing inside your chest.

“Ah… I mean, maybe that’s true. I looked a little pale so I threw on some bronzer.”

“Hmm. You don’t need it.” He backs away now, hands in his pockets, and you can just barely breathe now. How did he notice things like that? “All right, I’ll see you in my office at five pm sharp with it.”

You fidget, peeking at your watch. You had less than twenty hours and that was with no sleep. “I will be there with it.”

“All right Miss Brat, hop to it.” He winks at you as he walks out, so casually, and you sink back down into the chair, fucking breathless. The scariest shit? You were just as excited to spend time with Satoru as you were to see this court case, what the fuck did that say about you?

You pull out your laptop, getting to work, the library isn’t busy at this time, so you can focus on the essay without distraction. As you write, you can’t help but think of Satoru, his touch, his smell, his voice. You shake your head, focusing on the words in front of you, you could do this, you could totally knock out a ten page essay for a chance at this.

***

The next day you’re fucking drained, going through each lecture exhausted, to the point Professor Geto stopped you after class, concerned look on his handsome face, and Utahime also comes to you. She’s frowning, and you hold in your yawn, struggling to smile.

“I’m fine you all, just had an extra credit thing for Mr. Gojo.” Professor Geto smirks then, rolling his eyes, and Utahime huffs.

“Dear god, what extra credit!” Utahime whispers, and you laugh a bit at her expression, shaking your head.

“Not anything crazy. A ten page essay on this book about Aristotle he found me reading.” You hold it up, and Professor grabs it, with his elegant hands, humming a bit to himself as he studies your face then.

“Huh, Aristotle? Would take you for a Plato girl.” You giggle then, so tired you’ve lost it, yawning wide.

“Satoru…. I mean shit.” You freeze, and they both look at you curiously, making you flush red. “Professor Gojo said that too.”

“Mmm, we are best friends, makes sense.” He hands it back to you with a smile, Professor Geto was devastatingly handsome with his angled features and long hair. Another model to fuck with all of you students.

He held himself with a quiet allure, confident but not overtly insane like Satoru… Professor Gojo… fuck. You needed to be more careful.

“He shouldn’t be giving her extra work.” Utahime says to Geto, and he sighs, looking at you with chocolate eyes.

“Well, what’s the reward?” You grin at that.

“Going to his court case tomorrow.”

“Well your eyes lit right up.” Geto muses, and even Utahime nods.

“I’d have done it too.” She comes to you and rubs your shoulder softly. “You’re done with it already?”

“Mmhmm. I have to read it to him though, ugh.”

Geto is just grinning now, and Utahime rolls her eyes. “Satoru is such a little shit, I swear. Just go in with confidence, you’ll do well.” He also touches your shoulder gently with a little smile.

You smile at them both. “Thank you all. Promise I’ll get to sleep tonight! Shit, what time is it?”

“Four fifty.”

“I gotta go! Bye!” You run out of the classroom then, exhaling as you head to Gojo’s office.

You knock on the door when you get there, and he calls out for you to enter. The office is surprisingly neat when you walk in it, a stark contrast to the chaos he brings into your life you think, but his classroom was also impeccable, so it makes sense. He’s sitting at his desk, looking up at you with those piercing eyes, leaning his chin on his hands with a smirk, looking fucking irresistable as ever.

“You’re just on time. Good.” You walk over and place the essay down. “Ah-ah. You're reading it to me, remember?”

You bite your lip, exhaling nervously, taking the paper back, then you squeak in surprise as he picks you up, sitting you on his big black desk. You look at him with wide eyes, and he’s gone to lock his door, a loud click resonating, your thoughts run fucking crazy when he’s behind you, taking your hair down out of its bun, bobby pins scattering along the desk.

“What the fuck?” You look up at him incredulously, but he just has a huge grin, his fangs glistening in the soft light of his office.

“Remember I said you’d read it under pressure?” You scowl, as he walks slowly around the desk until he’s in front of you, looming so tall, bending over until his lips are just a breath away.

You clear your throat, tilting your head back to look at him. “What about it has to do with my hair down?”

His grin grows, and he gently places a thumb and forefinger under your chin. “Nothing, I just like your hair down.”

“You’re such a shithead.” He chuckles at that, then eyes you intently.

“What is pressuring is how you feel for me.” Your mouth drops open, and you’re sputtering for a moment, opening and closing it. “You can’t act like it’s not true, just a touch…” He barely brushes a bare thigh, you hold in your moan. “Makes you tremble. And just a…” He leans in so close, breath hot against your lips. “Yeah, it makes you bright fucking red.”

“Does not.” You glare, and he just shakes his head with that annoying smirk plastered on his face, gently rubbing his fingers up and down your body now.

“Your thighs shift when you are watching me in class.” You bite back another moan, struggling to keep still, but you fail, your thighs do fucking move together. “Just like that. Think I didn't notice?” His blue eyes hit yours, and your resolve wavers.

“So my thighs shift… So what?” He leans even closer, and his thumbs brush the sensitive part of your inner thighs, making you fucking wet immediately, and you hate him for it.

“You wriggle your hips when you watch me too. Like this.” He takes them in his hands, pressing you hard on the desk, and you can’t stop the whine that comes from the back of your throat. “Need that friction hmm?”

“Fuck you, Satoru.” You whisper, feeling tears prick your eyes then, your breaths coming in little pants. “Why do this? Why push me so goddamn hard, call me out all the fucking time, with some advanced essay request? Do you really fucking dislike me so much-”

“Dislike?” He cuts you off with a glare, and you blink rapidly, swiping the little tears that fell. “You’re not as smart as I thought.”

“And you call me unintelligent! What the fuck even is this?” You go to get down and he holds you there, hands on your waist, so big they nearly cover it, squeezing and making you moan again. “Fuck, you…”

“I push you because I see potential.” He cuts you off then, and you meet his gaze, which has grown serious. “I’m doing this because…” He trails off, easing his grip and sliding his hands down your body. “Because I’m masochistic.”

You sniffle a bit, shaking your head. “You’re pushing me so hard.”

“I know. And I won’t stop.” He tilts your chin again, making you gaze at that pretty fucking face. “Now, the point is, your desire for me makes you unfocused. It’s a challenge. So we use it, and you push through it, can you do it?”

You tremble, hands hot and sweaty. You suck in a breath, shutting your eyes for a moment and focusing. You wanted to deny it, to not admit what was blatantly obvious to this conceited man. But… “Yes. I can do it.”

“Good girl.” His hands brush your hair back as he murmurs those words, in that deep timbre, you…

Fuck.

“Don’t say that.” You hate what it does to you, his words, that shit eating grin when your watery eyes open.

“Now, begin, Miss Brat. Let’s see how you handle this.” His breath is against your neck again, tickling delicate skin, making you shiver. “If you do well, you’re in tomorrow. I won’t push anything too far either, just enough to throw you off. Okay?”

You nod, realizing the challenge he was throwing, and you pick up your papers, reading out loud in the most confident voice you can muster. “Aristotle's idea of natural law holds that certain principles are inherent in human nature. That has helped to shape the development of natural law theory. Mmnh…” Saroru’s big hands brush up your thighs, making you wetter between them, you struggle to focus.

“Continue on, Miss Brat, you’ve just begun.” You clench your teeth as his fingers brush little circles, hypnotizing you, taking over all of your damn senses.

“Aristotle's emphasis on human reason and the balance between individual rights and social order has influenced the development of constitutionalism, far more than his counterparts or teachers. Plato and Socrates for example… unh. Fuck!” He laughs as he kisses your thigh, bent down between you, and your eyes go wide. Just a brush of his lips, you drop the paper.

He bends down to grab it, his breath so close to where you ache for him you feel tears prick your eyes. He smirks as he hands it back to you, leaning in close now. “So that’s what really gets you, does it remind you of that night?” He purrs the fucking words, and you clench your jaw so hard it hurts. “Does it?”

“Yes, fuck. Ugh.” You look away, and you hate it when he’s leaned against you again, as he’s read you like a book.

“Continue on, you can do this.” He orders, so casually, like he wasn't destroying your mind.

You take a breath, struggling to keep it together, when he decides to run his fingers through your hair now, reading more of the essay. You struggle not to just arch your head and enjoy it, but no, you’ve gotta fucking focus. “Aristotle's concept of justice as a balance between extremes has influenced legal theories, especially when it comes to justice as we know it… Fuck… please…”

“Shh.” His breath is hot on your ear, he nips the earlobe just so with his sharp teeth, flicking his tongue on it. You clench your thighs tight, damn near aching with how bad you want him. “Keep going, baby girl. Remember, you’re under pressure.”

You struggle to focus as the words jumble further on your paper. “Ethics is the most emphasis surely, as his focus on human character has led to a greater focus on ethical considerations in decision-making. It brings to light all of the things that make human beings tick and…”

You inhale sharply when he's behind you, brushing your hair to the side with one hand, then sliding off your blazer. “Aww, you’re a whole Aristotle stan, aren’t you baby girl? I’m so intrigued.”

“Professor Gojo…” You trail off, he has his big hands on your shoulders, burning you through the blouse with his touch.

“You're doing really well.” He praises you, and you are surprised as fuck. “Keep going, pretty. Almost done.”

“Fuck…” You shake yourself out of it. “As for Aristotle's methodology, which emphasized empirical observation and scientific inquiry, it has influenced the development of evidence based decision making in law. It makes… mmm…”

Satoru is in front of you, brushing the back of his hand down your cheek. “No bronzer today hmm?” You flush, shaking your head. “Good, you have a natural blush when around me. Continue.” His face is buried in your hair, then soft lips kiss your temple. You're trembling so bad, trying to hold it together.

“Aristotle's concept of stability and continuity has influenced the development of legal systems as we know it. Without Aristotle's advanced ideas, we may have been much further behind. His ideas… carry…” You're almost done when he brushes his hands down the side of your breasts, blue eyes locked on yours.

“You're so close, pretty. Finish. ” He watches your back arch when he brushes his thumbs over the taut nipples, over your lacy bra and the blouse, you nearly lose it. But you finish. You fucking do it.

“To…to conclude, Aristotle's ideas have had a profound impact on various aspects of legal thought and practice, and they are still shaping the way we think about law today.”

“Good," He says, his voice gruff. "It's good."

You look up at him, your heart racing, and your eyes meet his. For a moment, the very room seems to hold its breath, and you can feel the electricity flickering between you. The tension is so palpable you could reach out and touch it, he is unusually quiet and serious, when you lean in slightly, your body betrays you, and he mirrors the movement, his face just inches from yours.

“Was it okay, Satoru? Really?” You whisper, he cups your face, nodding, and you're even closer, your hand is pulling on his tie, you can taste his minty breath, tempting you further.

“It was really good. I wouldn’t say if not. Especially for one day.” His fingers play along the neckline of your blouse, brushing your collarbone, he leaves goosebumps everywhere he touches.

“Thank you… I…”

But before anything happens, there is a knock on the door. Thank god, what even could happen between you two that would be anything other than an entire disaster?

“Busy.” Gojo mutters, and they seem to leave. He exhales, shutting his eyes for a moment and resting his forehead on yours, holding your face gently, before pulling back and staring down at you.

“What is it?” You murmur, and he shakes his head, sighing.

“You look so hot on my damn desk. This image is gonna be burned in my fucking brain.” He runs his hand through his hair, sighing.

“I…” You trail off, letting go of his tie and looking down. “Sorry, I got carried away a bit I think.”

“You?” He scoffs at that, and leans in again, barring you with his arms against the desk, gaze devouring you. “You get to go. You did a really good job.”

“Oh my god! Really?” He nods, and you grin, throwing your arms around his neck eagerly and hugging him. He tenses, and you ease away, but he pulls you back against him, standing up and holding you.

You’re dangling there in his arms as you hug him tightly, and you bury your face in his neck for a moment, feeling how good that hard body is on yours, his thrumming heart against your aching breasts. How good he smells, you want to inhale his scent forever. How much this reminds you of that night, of the guy you instantly fucking liked and wanted.

You…

“I’m sorry, Satoru. Got carried away again.” You murmur, and he eases you down, hands not leaving your little waist, he looks down at you, so intense, you can see your desire mirrored in him. In his parted lips. In his hooded eyes. “I'm tired and not thinking right.”

“Don’t apologize.” He says, voice husky.

“I’m really excited.” You ease your arms down, struggling to come down to Earth, to reality, which is damn near impossible, as you can hear your panting breaths and loud heartbeat in his quiet office.

“I’m glad. It’ll be in the morning, so just make sure to prep.” You nod eagerly, then turn to grab your things off his desk, and you’re against him again. He hisses, gripping you tight around your hips, thumbs pushing into your lower back.

You look back over your shoulder. “Satoru?”

“Why is your ass so goddamn nice? Especially in this fucking skirt.” He demands through clenched teeth, and you feel his hands tighten further, bruising grip, as he presses you against the desk.

“Fuck…” You manage to cry out, covering your mouth, when you feel his length hot and hard against the small of your back.

“Yeah, fuck.” He mutters, his hands grab your hair tight then, still loose and flowing, and you arch your head back, fucking uncaring at this point. He could fuck you then and there and you’d literally say thank you.

Why did he make you like this?

“Satoru…” It’s a little whine, his name.

“Why does my name sound so good on those fucking lips?” He’s muttering the words through gritted teeth, and pulls your head until you face him. “Do you know how badly I wanna bend you over this desk and feel that tight cunt around me?”

You manage a shake of your head, blinking rapidly, his hands slide your skirt up, and you grind your ass back for more, moaning. You know you all can’t do it, you fucking know, but the thoughts… the touches… when he pulls the fabric of your skirt as he pulls your hair, and you breathe into each other's lips.

“We… shouldn’t… right?” You manage, his lips ghosting above yours, before easing his grip. He exhales, kissing your shoulder, sliding your skirt down, leaning over you to grab your blazer.

“I… ahem…” He puts on a smirk suddenly. “I know I get you so horny and wet, but control yourself, Miss Brat.”

‘You fucking ass!” You turn around and shove him hard, he snatches you up, wrapping the blazer around your shoulders, laughing.

“Am I wrong? Bet she’s soaked.” He slides his hand back up, and it takes everything in you to smack his hand.

“Fuck off, Professor Dickhead.” You huff, pushing past him.

“Wait…” You turn to him, glaring, and he’s got his hand running through that silvery white hair again, messing it up, making this literal perfect man look just a bit human.

“What?”

“Let me take you to your dorm. It’s gonna rain.” You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “No?”

“It’s not gonna rain. It was nice out…” Thunder claps in the background, making you jump a bit, and he just smirks. You wanna smack him. “I’ll go out in it.”

Now he glares at you. “You wanna be soaked? More than you already are.” He looks down at your lap again, you turn away. “Jesus, you're so stubborn. Will you please let me?”

“Whatever, why?” He walks past you, unlocking the door.

“You gotta be presentable tomorrow, not all sick because you got drenched. Come on, it's not like it’ll be long.” He grabs an umbrella, a long clear one, and snatches up his briefcase as well.

You quietly follow him out of the office, and through the school, until you’re at the door and see how badly it is raining, pouring down and the wind is going insane, making rain swirl around. Gojo opens the door for you, popping the giant umbrella out and putting it on top of you both.

It’s a downpour, soaking everything in seconds, except for the two of you under the clear shelter of the umbrella. You can feel the heat of his body through the fabric as he holds you close, and even with the chill of the rain, it’s like you’re on fire. Every step you take is a battle against the urge to lean into him, to let him consume you, to just say fuck it and epic kiss in the rain.

You can’t.

You don’t.

You keep walking, trying to keep your mind on anything but how badly you want to feel his hands all over you again, a mere tease, making you shiver as you all near his car, a fancy silver sports car likely worth more than anything you’ve ever seen. He opens the door, holding the umbrella still, and you climb in quickly, shivering as he comes to the other side.

Gojo revs up the engine, and the car lights up, you’re trembling as you watch his big hand wrap around the gear shift, putting the car into drive, but he looks at you first, catching your hungry fucking gaze and smirking.

“Seatbelt, Miss Brat.” You giggle a bit, breathless, sliding it in with trembling hands.

“Sorry.” You manage, and then the car zips through the soaking wet streets. You find yourself enamored by him, by every clench of his jaw, by the way his hand grips the steering wheel.

“Need to take a picture?” He teases, and you roll your eyes, sighing, hugging the blazer around you a bit.

“Should have asked you that with me on your desk.” He smirks at that, his blue eyes catch yours just so, the windshield working overtime as you all sit at the stop sign, waiting.

“I’ve got a whole fucking mental picture I’ll use later.” You feel overheated, your chest tight with his words, fidgeting with your hands, exhaling. The rain is spattering on the roof, and it’s just you and him, together, side by side. No school, no bar, nothing but you and… “You okay? You’re quiet.”

“Yeah, just cold.” You lie straight up, shivering more. But you know it’s not the cold. It’s him. It’s the way he makes you feel, full of fucking desire that throbs through you.

“Want the heat on?” He asks softly, you shake your head, smiling over at him, as the car speeds through the wet streets, the rain beating a rhythmic pattern on the windshield, the wipers swiping back and forth in a hypnotizing dance. All of it was making your resolve lower.

“No, it's a quick ride, don’t worry.” You murmur, tensing when one of his hands goes to your thighs then, hot and burning on your chilled skin, goosebumps rising where he touches. You can feel your heart racing, your breathing getting heavier.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?” He says, his voice a rough whisper in your ear, and you blush harder than you thought possible as you look at him, realizing you all were at a stop now.

“Don’t say things like that, please… you don’t understand what they do to me.” You murmur, trying to keep your voice steady, avoiding that gaze.

“Baby girl… I know what it does to you.” His hand climbs higher, and you can’t breathe, it’s like the car is suffocating you now.

“Then don’t.” You manage to bite out, and Satoru turns back to the road, continuing to drive in the rain, and the car ride is tense, the scent of his cologne fills the small space intermingling with your own scent.

As you pull up to your dorm, you finally dare to glance at him. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes are dark and intense, watching you, his gaze going down to where his hand is on your thigh. You shift in your seat, internally cursing, slick desire dripping down through your inner thighs even, so close to where his hand was it would only take the smallest inch further to reveal it.

"Listen," he says, his voice low and serious. "This isn't going to be a cakewalk. You're coming to a serious case tomorrow. You need to be on your toes."

You nod, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. "I understand. I'll be ready."

“And you won’t be interfering.” He slides his hand fucking higher, and your heart is racing now. “You don’t smack my hand away. Why?”

“You even have to ask?” You bit out, looking at him now, your lips parting, his eyes dart to them, hunger in their blue depths.

“You should smack it away.” He says, husky, and you go to take his hand off you, but you falter, instead you grip it, sliding it up that inch, to where his thumb feels it, feels the sticky wetness on you. He exhales, gripping you tightly, sliding his hand up until it comes in contact with your dripping cunt.

“Fuck…” You curse, when his thumb brushes you over your panties, and he exhales, moaning, leaning over you, and you all sit there for a moment, the rain thundering around you, your heart beating so loud it’s all you can hear.

“Saoaking fucking wet.” He murmurs, swirling his finger again and pressing up, and you fucking lose it, moaning, arching your hips up, gripping onto his business jacket, your lips right next to him.

“We shouldn’t…” You whisper, and then cry out when his long fingers stroke you up and down. “I shouldn’t have… shouldn’t be…”

“Why don’t you let me get you off real quick?” Satoru murmurs, sliding his fingers under the waistband of your panties now, moaning when he fully feels you, and you’re already gushing from just that.

“Fuck… Satoru… “ You hiss at his touch. “I can’t get it out of my fucking head. And I hate you for that.” You mumble, he tilts his head at you, eyes narrowing as he slides a finger up in you, and you throb around it, cries loud in the little car, louder than the pouring rain.

“You hate me, hmm?” He whispers, and you nod, tears pricking your eyes when he crooks his finger now, breath against your lips, you grind shamelessly in the chair, tummy clenching when he finds that spot.

“Yes. Fuck you for knowing my body somehow. And… fuck… mmmn…” Your eyes flutter shut when he crooks up again, hitting the little spot again, you see stars and black dots everywhere, cursing.

“Well guess what?” He leans even further, even closer, brows drawing low. “Fuck you for this perfect little pussy. Fuck you for being so wet.” You’re whining, pathetic now, tears pricking your eyes, as he slides his finger out, leaving you gasping.

“Fuck you completely.” You shove at him, and he scowls, then brings his finger to his mouth, sucking you off him, moaning, shutting his eyes, so fucking sexy. “Fuck you for looking like that!”

“Fuck you for tasting so fucking good.” He growls, and you’re both panting, your wetness is on his full lips. “I thought it was just alcohol, but nope. You taste as good as I remember. Now I think of eating you out while you’re at your fucking seat in class.”

“I think about sucking your dick under the fucking desk. So.” He blinks at that, and you turn insanely red, looking away. “And fuck you for that too.”

“Fuck you for always eye fucking me in class.” He growls the words, yanking your hair back, dominating every bit of your body and mind.

“Fuck you for… just fuck you, Satoru.” You’re crying now, and he’s watching you, smirking at you.

“ Are you crying ?” Your fingers itch to smack him, you shake your head, and you all sit there for a second, the rain getting harder, the windows fogging up with the heat from you two in the car, and you want to fucking kiss him so badly... You want to grab his hair and pull him into you, so he doesn’t stop, so he never stops.

But you don’t.

Because you’re both fucking insane, and you’re in a car, outside your fucking dorm. So instead you sit there, panting, trembling, staring at him, and he at you, as his grip loosens just slightly, as you feel yourself getting so wet your panties are ruined just like the damn night you met him.

“Not crying.” You say, firmly, and he smirks down you, so fucking charming and gorgeous you wanna smack him.

“You don’t wanna get off, baby girl?” He whispers, sliding his hand back down your waist, making you make some pathetic wine he seemed to enjoy.

“Of course I do, but where does it lead? Me fucking riding you in the car?” He grins big then. “Satoru…”

“You can’t just get off? You gotta fuck me hmm?”

“I need to go.” You unsnap your seatbelt, shaking hands fumbling, he slides his hands off you, unbuckling it for you.

“Poor baby can’t function, huh?” You glare again at him.

“Fuck you.”

“Gonna be all horny in the court room, how can you go?”

“I’ll use my rose toy.” At that his eyebrows shoot up, and you cover your mouth, falling back in your seat. “Fucking ignore that.”

“I am going to need a video of that.” You shove him, and he’s laughing at you now, with that pretty grin of his. It sucks.

This sucks.

“You wish, Professor Dickhead.” You go to open the door, peering at how bad it’s still down pouring.

He’s out of the car in a moment, then he’s opening yours, holding the umbrella up high so that you two are back under it together, he’s looking down at you, that white hair just a little wet. You errantly brush it back, then put your hand down, flushing, realizing where you were, who you both were. He takes the hand then, leading you to the doorway, which had an overhang.

“I’ll be here at 8 AM sharp, Miss Brat.” He murmurs, still too close, body still up against yours. You nod, shy suddenly, next to the man that had just tasted you, your fucking Professor. “Want my number?”

“What? No.” He laughs at you, white teeth showing, and it lights up his stupidly pretty face.

“Do you know how many women would die for my number?” You shrug, and he continues to laugh. “You’re such a little brat.”

“Am not. I just don’t want it.” You look down, at his exposed neck, where the knot of his tie had come loose, and your shaky hands go to slide the knot back up, you hear his hitch of his breath, see his Adam’s apple bob up and down.

“If you’re going to this case we need to keep in contact. I won’t be sending you dick pics, you’re not that lucky.” He winks and you chuckle against your own will, shaking your head and smoothing your hand down his tie.

“Mmm, true. You won’t get any videos either, Professor Dickhead.” He pouts at that, taking his phone out of his pocket then.

“My heart’s broken. But don’t worry.” He leans close, whispering in your ear, tickling it like crazy, making you throb with need. “I remember exactly how that pretty pussy looks.”

“Fuck off.” You whisper, pathetically, you don’t move, and you don’t mean it, though. Pathetic for this idiot professor who was ruining you with casual, silly little fucking movements. “Hate you.”

“I hate you . Hate how good you smell. Taste. Annoying brat.” You pull back to glare up at him, meeting his scowl. “Take my number, brat, and count yourself lucky to have it.”

“Conceited dick.” You take out your phone, and scan his little code, he pops right up in your phone. You giggle maniacally when you change his name in there, and he scowls at you.

“What’s so funny, brat?” You show him his name - Professor Dickhead- and he rolls his eyes, glaring at his phone, then smirking maniacally back, when he snaps a pic of you so quick it throws you off.

“What? Satoru!” You yank and hop up and he finally lets you see the phone, and it’s literally a pic of your cleavage in a top that’s ever so sheer and wet, with the name ‘Miss Brat’. “Dick!”

“Bitch.” You huff, turning away, and he snatches you by your wrist. “Don’t you want a picture of me?”

“Nope, sure don’t. I see you enough and it annoys me.” His laugh is hot against your neck.

“You’re a good liar, that will make you a great lawyer.” You turn to glare up at him, his touch eases, he’s just barely brushing his fingers down your hand now. You ache to hold his hand in your own, to entwine your fingers in his.

“Really, thank you, I am excited for tomorrow.” You whisper, and he sighs, hands releasing you now. You are just standing in front of him in the rain, under the cocoon the umbrella keeps you all in, hearing his breaths behind you.

“You’re welcome, little brat. Maybe if this works out and you bust your nice little fucking ass…” You yelp when he pinches you, whirling back around. “Then you’ll be in line to earn that internship. You’ve got a few months still, but…”

“Yeah?” You raise a brow. He shrugs, casually.

“If you can keep up with how hard I’m going to push you.” The words take on something else, your mind is fucking wrecked you realize.

“I can take it.” He smiles at that, touching your chin gently.

“All right, go on in, I’ll see you in the morning.”

You dash inside, and your heart is fucking pounding, when you’re up in your room you hop out of all your clothes, wincing when you slide off the underwear that’s just sticking to your goddamn thighs now. You start the shower, cursing internally as you peek at your phone, at his goddamn number.

You’d been ready to fuck this guy on his desk, on his car…

And you had shit for experience.

You wouldn’t say it, but it made it all even worse, you were so far out of your wheelhouse as it was. You struggle not to touch yourself in the damn shower, to not push this all way further than it needed to be, but you find your clit and lean back against the tile wall.

Images of him fill your head, the way he looked at you, the way his eyes had gone dark blue when he touched you. The way his voice had gotten all low and gruff when he said he fucking hated you. You start moaning out loud, as you slip your fingers in, stroking fast, but it’s nothing like just one of his ridiculously long fingers, you can’t hit that damn spot.

You go back to rubbing your clit because at this point it’s puffy and so sensitive it happens fast. You come hard, gripping the little shower bar and leaning, your knees wobbling, feeling like a damn mess, and it’s all because of him. When you’re done you slump against the wall, panting, so confused what this man made you into.

He’d make fun of you if he knew.

You step out, sighing, drying up and then getting ready for the next day, planning your outfit, planning what to bring with you. This was an insanely serious case, one of the biggest, all over the television, and you had watched Satoru on them, he was fucking the best, not that you’d stroke his ego and tell him.

Your phone lights up when you’re settled down under the blankets, and you see his number and name pop up.

Professor Dickhead: Good night, Miss Brat.

How did something so simple make you nearly tear up again? You exhale, hand shaking as you swipe it up and open the messages. You nervously bite your lower lip, lips that ached for a goddamn kiss, one you had almost three months ago now. You couldn’t get the taste off your mind. You hate this.

You: Good Night… Satoru.

Not professor Dickhead, for some reason, it didn’t fit at the moment.

Well…

Satoru Gojo hearts the message you sent, and you hate the stupid smile on your face that it brings, the smile that lingers as you fall asleep, and you dream of him, anticipating the next day, such a huge day for you and your career, but also, spending time with him.

Fucking Professor Gojo.

Chapter 3

Ch 2 Ao3 link https://archiveofourown.org/works/56895382/chapters/145101856#workskin

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo smut #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #smut #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jujutsu satoru #jjk satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo

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qu1cks1lversb1tch · 4 months ago

Text

Killer | Vox x Reader

Warnings: mentions of murder, blood, dead bodies, established relationship (married), HUMAN VOX, NSFW (18+), p in v, slight breeding kink but otherwise vanilla for my first 'smutty' Vox writing, reader is heavily implied to be female, Valentino existing

Word Count: 1.0K

Summary: Your husband came home from work to find a rather interesting sight in his living room. . . Made him wanna do a thing or two. . . Idk 💀✨

A/N — I couldn't not use this gif — I love it. I don't mention him by name until the end because we don't know what his name was while he was alive. . . It could've been Vox in both, but I'm not taking chances, so I used sweet little names instead. . . He also has dark hair and blue eyes in my mind. HOPE Y'ALL LIKE THIS ONE 💕 (I drew/made the MDNI banner myself — tell me you're proud of me. . . I'm gonna pretend I didn't write this when I wake up tomorrow 😭, but hopefully someone does like it)

Blood dripped from the hand of the body that was carelessly draped across the coffee table, the metallic smelling crimson staining the white rug below.

You stood firmly, hands on your hips as you stared at your husband, who, in turn, stared at the body as if it would suddenly disappear if he looked away.

"You killed her." He stated rather plainly, a glint in his eyes as he turned to look at you in all of your glory — bloodied hands, stained apron tied around your waist, hair tousled, and ripped pantyhose. . . It was odd for him to see you so unkempt. Had he not been your childhood friend turned lover and husband, you might have had something snarky to say in response to his obvious comment.

You hummed, assessing the expanding puddle on the new rug that nearly costed a fortune. "Yes, it seems I have."

"Did she deserve it?"

"They always do." You replied nonchalantly, removing your hands from your hips as you walked towards your husband — silently thanking whatever higher power that the blood on your hands had dried. You pulled him down by his tie and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Welcome home, my love. . . Dinner will be done shortly. It's your favorite."

"I'll handle the mess while you finish up." Came his response.

You smiled as a thank you before going off into the kitchen to wash up the last couple dishes and stir the pot of stew that had been cooking low and slow all afternoon.

Your beloved husband entered the kitchen a bit later, hands coated in dirt and blood with the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows.

He stood there for a moment watching you as if you were an animal of prey and he was an apex predator. Your breath hitched when that glint of something familiar returned to his electric blue gaze.

Within a moment, his hands drenched in sticky blood found your face, gently caressing it and leaving trails of the viscoelastic fluid behind as he brought you into a rough yet passionate kiss.

His hands trailed down your clothed body until they reached your thighs. . . With his fingers grasping the plush flesh, he hoisted you onto the counter top.

"Are you certain you want to do this before dinner, Honey?" You asked breathlessly just as his hands fell to his belt buckle, hastily undoing it with the metallic clicks of the silver colored mechanism, the leather falling from the silvery confines.

"No time like the present, Doll." He replied, practically ripping the button from the hole of his perfectly tailored suit pants.

"Carry on, Darling." You hummed.

He bunched up the skirt of your dress before reaching just below and ripping a large hole in the already destroyed pantyhose, all to gain access to the already soaked cotton fabric beneath.

The singular piece of fabric that separated your pussy from the warmed air of the kitchen.

"All mine. . ." He muttered in awe, rubbing the pad of his thumb up and down the large spot of arousal that had formed since he arrived home. You couldn't help it. Your husband was a fine specimen.

You whined at the need for something more; your darling husband only smirked before completely ripping the beloved pair of panties away, tossing them to the floor — he always said he'd get you more, and he always did. His thumb returned, slipping through your glistening folds before gravitating towards the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Need you, Honey, please. . ." Your sweet voice cut through the silence with a whimper at the end — that was all it took for your husband's restraint to fly out the window.

He freed his bulging cock from the confines of his pants and boxers, immediately lining it up with the entrance. With your silent nod of approval, he slowly slid it into your sopping wet pussy.

He grunted as he bottomed out, paired almost perfectly with your moan as you adjusted to his sheer length and girth — it didn't matter how many times the two of you fucked, it was always like the first time.

After a moment he began thrusting and your sweet noises filled the room along with the sound of skin on skin. One of his hands held on to your waist so you wouldn't slip, and the other held on tightly to the counter.

"Taking me so well just like you always do, Doll." He grunted in your ear, his pace picking up as you moaned his name like a prayer on the lips of an angel, your fingers laced in his soft, dark hair.

It wasn't very long before the coil within began to build with pressure until it finally snapped, bringing you to a much needed orgasm that caused you to release your hold on his hair and clench around him, unintentionally milking your husband's cock. He came, painting your insides white, yet his thrusts didn't cease until he felt the very last drop enter you.

He then pulled out slowly, using his thumb to push his seed back inside of you as it tried to escape. "Gonna be a good mother one day, Doll."

"I'll try to be," you replied breathlessly before plastering a smile on your face, as if you didn't get railed in the kitchen by your husband, where your neighbor could've seen. "Dinner?"

"That sounds good, Doll. . . Let's get you cleaned up."

Sixty or so years later. . .

"Remember that time we fucked in the kitchen with a dead body two rooms over because the ground was frozen, so we couldn't dispose of it properly?" You questioned casually at dinner.

Vox looked up from his plate, a smirk falling onto his face. "Which time?"

"Well, this just got interesting." Valentino muttered into his drink, looking between you and Vox.

"When I killed Dorothy, of course."

"Can you not talk about your serial killer sex shit at the table!? I'd like to eat without the imagery." Velvette groaned, sliding her plate back slightly.

"Would you rather listen to Val talk about all the positions he's had his new favorite toy in?" Vox questioned.

"Hey!" Valentino whined.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin vox #fem reader #x reader #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #vox imagine #hazbin hotel vox #vox #vox the tv demon #vox x fem reader #vox x you #vox x y/n

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horanghaejamjam · 1 year ago

Text

Jigsaw - {CS}

↪ Summary: You are the lead detective in an investigation surrounding one of the most infamous killers the city has ever seen. Unfortunately for you, Jigsaw knows you're onto him and has played you like a game at every turn, threatening the case and your status. Your determination to catch him finally gets you a lead, only for you to find yourself tangled in a special trap that he designed just for you. Let the game begin.

↪ Pairings: Jigsaw Killer Choi San x Female Detective Reader

↪ Rating: M 18+

↪ Genre: Non-idol/Slasher/Horror movie au/ Suggestive / Fluff/Friends to enemies to lovers

↪ Word Count: 5.7k

↪ Warnings/Contents: References to classic horror movies, mainly Saw, Silence of the Lambs, and Scream. Mentions of death/murder/being shot (not detailed). Seonghwa and Mingi both make cameos in this story with a few other members being mentioned. Swearing and implied smut (MDNI). San being a teasing little shit, makeout sessions, fondling over clothes.

↪ Side Notes: To the wonderful @pinkywritings hi darling I was your assigned Ghost Writer for the @atinyhalloweenproject. This is my first time writing for San and I had a lot of fun with it so I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it is so late I wanted to have it out by Halloween but due to the sudden weather change we haven't had power. I tried to make it longer to make up for that so hopefully it doesn't feel rushed and was worth the wait!

I honestly may do a part two to this or an expansion later on because I love the idea of Jigsaw San but we'll see.

↪ Click here to see my other Ateez stories

↪ Click here for other kpop masterlists

↪ Click here to join my fic taglist

“Police officials are seeking any leads in identifying the man known only to the public as the Jigsaw killer. He is believed to be linked in multiple disappearances and murders that have taken place around Seoul for the past three months. The victims were all found in various handmade traps and had a puzzle piece drawn somewhere visible on their body. At this time investigators have no leads and are asking the public for any knowledge they may have on this public threat.”

The reporter's voice faded to nothing as the volume on the TV was lowered to zero. You groaned softly to yourself as you tossed the remote to the side, running your hands through your hair as you sat forward on your couch. It had been just over a month since you were assigned the Jigsaw murder case, the last detective backing out after the man in question threatened to target his family. The case was quickly transferred over to you, one of the best detectives in your field, but it was very quickly starting to test your patience.

Whoever this Jigsaw was, he was a clever man. He left no trace, no evidence, nothing that would allow you to track him down. You went through surveillance, interviewed the family and friends of the victims, tried breaking down his traps for any clues, but any lead always led you right back to square one. You had tried to be patient, hoping that eventually he would slip up and give you something, but it was starting to sound like wishful thinking. Even worse, he knew who you were and started calling you out directly. You would find notes addressed to you, pictures, voice messages, all calling you out and taunting you. It was like he was playing some cruel game with you and you had no choice but to play along or risk losing everything. You couldn’t even walk to work anymore without some reporter chasing you down demanding an explanation or any evidence you had in the case. It came to a point where you only went to the office when called, and the rest of your work you did from home.

Various evidence pictures and case files were thrown across your coffee table, a few rough notes scribbled in between. You had been looking at the same files for the past couple of hours, dissecting every last word to see if you had missed any connections. Your last victim had been found 72 hours ago, and you knew you only had a day at most before the next one. There were a few things you had discovered about Jigsaw, and the main one was that he worked on a schedule. Once someone was reported missing, it would be three days before their body turned up and the cycle would start again. Whoever this man was, he clearly enjoyed his patterns, and that is what you found yourself looking for, any pattern you may have missed.

“Working from home again I see?” you practically jumped out of your skin as you heard the deep voice of your roommate behind you, turning around to see his tall frame leaning over the couch.

“For Fucks sake Mingi you almost gave me a heart attack!” you whined, reaching up to lightly smack at him, “what are you doing here anyways I thought you weren’t coming home tonight.” You and Mingi had been friends for as long as you could remember, having met back in high school and staying together through college and your time at the police academy. He was like a brother to you at this point and you trusted him so you didn’t mind if he saw your work, even if he technically wasn’t supposed to. Mingi always found your work to be fascinating and would bug you randomly about cases, which only grew more when you started investigating Jigsaw, though you assumed it was just because you got to bring your work home now. Just as you predicted, he made his way to the other side of the couch and took a seat next to you, picking up one of the crime scene photos to get a better look.

“I was going to stay at Yunhos tonight but something came up and he had to cancel,” Mingi explained, running his thumb over the picture he was holding, “ouch this looks like it would have been painful, what is it?”

“That’s one of Jigsaw's latest traps,” you answered, snatching the photo away from him, “I’m looking through it to see if I can find any missing clues.”

“Have you found anything?”

“Sadly no, he’s very good at covering his tracks. It’s been a month and we still don’t have any leads on this guy, it’s like he’s a ghost or something.” Mingi hummed softly as he continued to look through all the pictures, careful not to mess them up knowing you would yell at him if he did.

“Now I’m no expert but, are you sure you’re only looking for one person?” he asked, catching you off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean all these crime scenes you’ve shown me have been pretty big and this says it only took three days, seems like a lot of work for one person if you ask me.” Mingi explained, “and that’s why your patterns wouldn’t line up like you want them to.” You blinked up at him dumbly for a moment as you processed his words, looking back down at the file you had basically memorized by this point. You didn’t want to admit it, but Mingi had a point.

“You know that’s actually not a bad idea,” you muttered.

“I can be helpful sometimes you know,” he bragged with a laugh, earning himself a punch to the shoulder. He didn’t have time to retaliate though as you were packing up all of your things and rushing towards the door, “Wait where are you going?”

“I need to check on something, don’t wait up for me!” you called back, pulling on your coat and running out the door as he called after you. In your rush you hadn’t realized that you dropped part of your case file on your way out, nor did you notice Mingi pulling out his phone to call someone as he closed the door to your apartment.

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

You made it to the crime scene in no time, an abandoned warehouse located just on the edge of the city. You parked your car a bit away and pulled out a flashlight as you made your way inside, ducking under the caution tape and pulling your jacket closer to yourself as you looked around. The clean up crew had gotten most of the scene cleaned by now, but the trap itself was still there. A weirdly broken mess of chains and blades that you wouldn’t have been able to put back together if you wanted to, making you wonder how Jigsaw even came up with the idea in the first place. You shook the thought out of your head and made your way to one of the blades, leaning down to inspect it carefully. It was sharp with a curve to it, but almost messy in design as if it was handmade. To test that theory you took a look at another one and noticed the same thing except this one was thicker and less curved despite being set up the same way. The chains themselves were also a bit sloppy when you looked at them closely, almost as if they had been done in a rush. It wasn’t as clean as Jigsaw's normal work, and now Mingis suggestion that you were dealing with more than one culprit seemed more plausible.

You took your phone out to snap a picture just as the door to the warehouse opened, a new light pouring in and a familiar voice calling your name.

“Over here!” you called back, flashing your light in his direction so he could see you. Quick footsteps made their way towards you before a familiar figure came into view. Park Seonghwa, a senior detective that had transferred over to your department a little over a year ago and assigned as your partner. You had been against the idea at first since your original partner had been killed only a few weeks prior during an investigation gone wrong. The chief had insisted it would be for the best though since you needed the help and Seonghwas cool and more collected nature would balance you out nicely which would prove to be true. Your impulsiveness had driven the older detective crazy a few times, but for the most part the two of you got along well and you could even consider him a friend. He was wearing a long black coat and matching gloves and his hair was long and falling into his face rather than slicked up like normal, probably because he had been at home resting when you called him.

“Would you care to explain why you called me out here in the middle of the night when I haven’t heard from you in the last 48 hours?” Seonghwa questioned, unable to hide the annoyance in his tone.

“I’ll make it up to you but I figured this couldn’t wait,” you muttered, going back to inspect the chain again, “I’m trying to prove a theory about something.”

“That theory being?”

“What if Jigsaw isn't working alone?” you challenged, “what if it’s more than one person, that would explain why nothing lines up.” Seonghwas eyes widened a bit and you could have sworn you heard him mutter something under his breath, “what did you say?”

“Oh nothing,” he brushed you off, “what made you so convinced of this new theory? Did you find something?” You froze for a second, not wanting to expose yourself for letting a member of the general public view the case file.

“Just a hunch,” you lied, “but I mean look at the way this trap was built, it's messy compared to the others, almost as if it was made by someone else.”

“Or maybe Jigsaw just ran out of time and rushed on it,” he argued.

“Can you just humor me for five seconds Seonghwa,” you groaned, “maybe I’m wrong yes but isn’t it at least worth looking into?” Seonghwa rolled his eyes but gave in, walking to the other side of the trap to get a better look. You were too distracted by your own work to pay much attention to him, meticulously looking through every detail of the trap despite not actually knowing what you were looking for. Your instinct was telling you that there was something there you were overlooking, something that was hiding in plain sight, you just had to figure out what that was.

“Hey Y/N,” Seonghwa called out after a few minutes, “I think I found something.” Your head shot up and you quickly dusted yourself off before making your way over. Seonghwa was standing in the corner of the warehouse holding what looked to be a tape recorder. “I found it tucked away over here, may have gotten knocked around during the investigation,” he explained.

“Does it say anything?” you asked, taking the recorder from his hands and pressing the play button. There was only static for a moment before a robotic voice spoke up, like someone was speaking through a voice changer. Despite that, you couldn’t help but feel like the voice seemed familiar to you, but it was hard to tell through the editing.

“Hello Detective Y/L/N,” the tape addressed you, sending a chill through your body, “these past few weeks you have been running around in circles trying to discover who I am. You have been closer to the truth than you realize but you always end up blindsided by your work and, as a result, you overlook the answer that is right in front of you. I have enjoyed silently watching you up until this point but now it is getting quite boring so why don’t we make this a bit more fun? Do you like games, detective? I hope you do because I want to play a game with you. I have left a riddle for you, the answer to which will tell you all you need to know about who I am and what I do. You have 48 hours to find the riddle and tell me the answer or you will find yourself and those closest to you in a very undesirable situation. The timer starts the second this recording ends, let’s hope you are as clever as everyone says you are. Let the game begin.”

You felt your blood run cold as the tape came to an end, barely registering Seonghwas hand on your shoulder as you tried to process everything you just heard. Seonghwa tried talking to you but you ignored him, pushing his hand off and rushing back to your car, your partner not far behind you.

“Where are you going? We should report this to the office first!” he called after you.

“What good is reporting it going to do? You heard him Hwa I have 48 hours to figure out who this guy is or we’re all screwed, I can’t waste time.”

“So what you’re going to rush into something and get yourself killed?” he argued.

“Better than doing nothing and getting everyone else killed,” you snapped back, “now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find this riddle he’s talking about.” Seonghwa called after you again but by this point you had gotten in your car and were already making your way back to your apartment. Part of you felt like going home was a bad idea, but you also couldn’t help but feel like something was pulling you to go there. The same feeling of familiarity that you got hearing the tape returned, making you feel more and more uneasy as you pulled into your apartment complex. Like you knew who Jigsaw was and yet the image of his face was blurred any time you tried to imagine him.

Mingi didn’t seem to be home when you got back, his shoes were gone and the light was off. You couldn’t focus on that though, as your attention was drawn to the stack of papers placed neatly on your coffee table. You carefully walked over and looked through the pile, recognizing pictures from all the different crime scenes you had investigated so far, each one marked with red ink.

‘Y/N, doesn’t this random pattern seem a bit too random?’

‘This is quite close to home don’t you think?’

‘The truth has been in front of you the whole time.’

‘Why do I do what I do?’

‘Did you miss me?’

You ran your hand through your hair as you continued looking through the pictures, realizing that the riddle was basically going to send you on a scavenger hunt. It would take forever for you to go back through each crime scene and look back through everything to find out what he was talking about. Even worse, it was pretty late and you could feel exhaustion slowly taking over you, slouching over the coffee table and eventually laying against it as you fell asleep trying to decipher the riddle.

You were jolted awake by the sound of your phone vibrating, groaning softly as you sat up and reached into your pocket for the device. You half expected it to be a call from Mingi or Seonghwa, but instead you were greeted with the same robotic voice from the night before. Only this time, you were able to hear his actual voice a bit more and it was one you swore you had heard before.

“Good morning Sleeping Beauty, I hope my riddle didn’t keep you up all night,” the voice immediately woke you up, straightening your posture as you looked around.

“Who is this?” you asked.

“Aww I’m almost offended you don’t remember me, we go way back you know,” the voice responded, “I’ve missed you Y/N, and even if you don’t remember me now I know you miss me too.” You paused for a moment at his words before realizing now was not the time to worry about that.

“Why are you doing this?”

“That. my dear detective is for you to find out, you always did enjoy the thrill of a good challenge didn’t you? I figured you would have solved my puzzle by now but since I believe in giving people a fair chance I’ll give you another clue. One of those puzzle pieces doesn’t quite belong, once you find the answer I will be waiting for you in the place we last met, don’t keep me waiting Doll.” With that the call ended, causing you to groan in frustration and toss your phone to the side.

“I’ve had about enough of these damn games,” you huffed, rubbing your hands over your eyes. You looked through the pictures again before one in particular caught your eye. It wasn’t one of the Jigsaw crime scenes, but instead it was a picture of an older house, one that you recognized from your last murder investigation with your old partner, San. The memories slowly came back to you and that’s when it finally clicked for you, the puzzle and the reason the voice sounded so familiar to you. That was impossible though, San was dead, you had been at the hospital with him when the doctors told you there was nothing they could do. There was no way that San was still alive, and yet you would recognize his voice anywhere. Shaking your head, you grabbed your phone and stood up, calling Seonghwa and telling him to meet you at the house in question as you left your apartment and got in your car. The whole ride there you tried ignoring the feeling of dread that came over you, hoping that your intuition was wrong.

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Seonghwa was already at the house before you got there, leaning against the wall with a blank expression. “I take it you found the answer to your riddle?” he asked as you walked past him, leading him inside.

“As much as I hope I am wrong I think I did,” you confessed, “and if I’m right the clue we are looking for should be here somewhere.” Seonghwa stood still in the middle of the room as you frantically looked around, digging through his pocket and following your movements with his eyes.

“This isn’t one of the crime scenes,” he pointed out, “what exactly are we looking for?”

“Jigsaw said to find him at the place we last met and this place was the only one pictured that wasn’t one of the crime scenes,” you explained. Seonghwa hummed softly at your answer, but you ignored him as you continued looking around.

“Why here then, what’s so special about this place?” you froze for a moment at the question, an action that didn’t go unnoticed.

“This was the last place I investigated with my first partner,” you answered, “he was shot during the investigation and I thought he was dead but I’m starting to think I was wrong.”

“You think it’s him,” Seonghwa stated rather than asked, to which you nodded.

“I don’t know why he would do such a thing, but it all lines up.” Seonghwa sighed and glanced down at his watch before making his way towards you.

“I’m surprised you know, you solved the riddle faster than we thought you would, we’re a bit ahead of schedule.” His words made your blood run cold, freezing as your head turned to look at him.

“What did you just say?”

“I’m sorry about this Y/N,” Seonghwa apologized, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a syringe, “just know I don’t make the rules, I’m just the delivery guy.” Before you could react to his words he had grabbed you and injected you with what you assumed was some kind of anesthesia, your body going limp in his hold almost immediately and your vision going black. The last thing you remember hearing was his voice and footsteps approaching before you completely lost consciousness.

When you returned to consciousness the first thing that you noticed was that you couldn’t move. Your arms and legs were handcuffed to a chair that also appeared to be bolted to the floor so you couldn’t tip it over. Tugging at your restraints, you glanced around to find that you were in some sort of workshop, various trap parts and gadgets tossed around multiple workbenches. At the front of the room were what appeared to be security monitors, each watching different parts of the city that you could just barely make out.

“I have to hand it to you Y/N,” a voice said from behind you, “the last detective didn’t make it nearly as far.” The sound of footsteps echoed through the room before a figure appeared in your vision, wearing a full body red and black hood. Even though his face was covered by the hood, you could feel the presence of your former partner.

“How, I thought you were dead,” you whispered, not sure what to feel at the moment. In any other circumstance you would be over the moon to know he was alive, but how were you supposed to feel knowing he was the serial killer you had been anxiously tracking down. Shock, betrayal, anger, sadness, confusion, all of these emotions swirled through your brain like an endless whirlpool, pulling you in deeper and nearly bringing tears to your eyes.

“Everyone did,” San replied, turning away from you to face one of his work benches, “the doctors said it was a miracle, that no one thought I would make it through the night let alone make a full recovery.” You could hear him messing with something, but couldn’t see what it was, struggling to look past his shoulder as he continued talking, “I tried to find you after you know? I thought you were the only one left that cared about me, and yet even you managed to turn your back on me.”

“I always cared about you,” you argued, “that’s why I’m trying to understand why San, why did you do this?” It was at this point that he finally turned to face you, pulling the hood back so you could see him properly. He looked almost the same as you remembered, but there was a cold gaze in his eyes that almost made him feel like a stranger. This wasn’t the warm hearted and cheerful person you used to consider a friend, he was a killer. Despite this, however, you couldn’t help yourself from falling for his familiarity, almost as if you could convince yourself the old San was still in there, somewhere.

“You never realize just how valuable life is until you are inches away from death,” he explained, “the adrenaline and the fight to survive, it almost feels like you are being reborn. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how corrupt the world we live in truly is, because no one really knows how to appreciate the life they are given until it is nearly taken from them. You may not understand it now but trust me my methods will help make the world a better place.”

“You’re killing people because you want them to appreciate life?” you questioned, wondering if he was actually being serious. There was no way a person's mind could be that twisted, right?

“You think I’m a killer?” San asked, not needing a verbal response since your glare was enough confirmation, “that’s where you’re wrong you know. I have not killed anyone, all of my games are survivable as long as the player has the will to fight for it. Those who failed the games basically killed themselves.” You wanted to argue that putting people in these death traps still made him a killer but he cut you off, “Seven people have won so far, seven people who had that will to live and had the chance to be reborn. They understand what it truly means to be alive and now they help me spread my message. You may not understand me now, but I really do hope that you will be the next.”

“So what, am I the next person that gets to be put in one of your death traps then?” you groaned, tugging at your restraints. San pouted a bit but shook his head.

“Your game began the minute you took the case from Detective Kim,” he explained, “you and I always seemed to have an understanding so I had hoped you would pick up on my clues and join without a fight, but you were far too stubborn to listen. Eventually I had to cut my losses so I had my apprentices plant fake evidence to finally get you here, it was the only way.” Your heart dropped a bit at the word apprentices, your mind immediately going back to Seonghwa and how he was the one who brought you here.

“So you’re telling me the whole time,” you trailed off.

“Seonghwa was working for me, yes, Mingi as well, they both survived my games and agreed to help with the cause and when you took over my case I knew I could use them to guide you in the right direction,” San explained. He took a moment to glance at a clock on the wall before sighing and making his way over to you. San rested his hands on the arms of the chair and used them to prop himself up so he was leaning over you, “As much as I have enjoyed our little chat I’m afraid we do not have much time. I really do like you Y/N so I will give you a choice. Join me and together we can help change the world for the better.”

“And if I refuse?” you challenged.

“Well then I guess we’ll have to play a game,” he hummed, leaning away from you, “The second I walk out of this room it will lock and a timer will start. Behind you are two doors, each with a different combination, one door will lead you to the exit, and the other will lead you to me. If you choose to leave then you will be free but you will lose your chance to catch me. If you choose to come after me, then you have a chance to learn the truth at the risk of your freedom. The combinations are hidden in this room and you will have exactly one hour to find them and leave through the door of your choosing, and trust me you don’t want to know what will happen if you run out of time.” San chuckled softly before pulling away and walking behind you, “This is your last chance to accept my offer Y/N, I would hate to lose you like this.” He waited for a moment but when you didn’t respond he sighed, “Very well, let the game begin.” You felt him place something into your hand, which you quickly realized was a key, before the door slammed shut and San was gone.

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It didn’t take you long to unlock yourself, taking a second to rub your wrists as you stood up and made your way cautiously around the room. You did your best to stay calm and not look at the clock as you examined the doors and then looked around for the combinations, which you quickly realized were hidden on his tools. The question was, do you free yourself and turn your back on the case, or do you risk it all and try to go after San. The rational part of your brain was screaming at you to just get out of there and not look back, and yet you quickly found yourself moving on autopilot. Before you could really process what you were doing, you had entered the code for the door labeled “Truth” and ran through it, stepping into a dark hallway and letting the door lock behind you.

You took a moment to compose yourself before heading forward, placing your hands against the walls to help feel your way through the space. All the doors were locked until you came to one at the very end that was cracked open, revealing what looked to be a makeshift office space, with nothing but a desk and filing cabinet in the room. You poked your head through first, looking around for any sign of life before slowly stepping inside and making your way to the desk, only to gasp as you felt another body pin you to it.

“I knew you would come after me,” San whispered, spinning you around so that you were facing him. Your body was pressed between his and the desk, his arms caging you on either side as your eyes locked.

“I can’t let you get away with this,” you argued, trying to wiggle away from him but San was stronger so he held you in place.

“Come on Doll, you and I both know that’s not why you came after me,” he teased, “maybe it was at first but if that was the case now you would be fighting me harder.” He was right, even if he was stronger you knew you could at least hold your own enough to get him away or subdue him long enough to call for help. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to actually fight him off, struggling against him enough to save your pride but not enough to actually push him off. “So tell me,” San continued, “why did you really come after me, was it because you were curious about my work? Or, was it because deep down you missed me?” Honestly, you weren’t even sure if you knew the answer, your body having reacted before your mind could catch up.

“This isn’t right,” you argued, reaching your hands up to push at his shoulders.

“And yet here we are,” he teased, backing up enough to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer to him. Your bodies pressed together and your arms instinctually made their way around his neck which made him chuckle. “I always knew you were special, you understood me in a way that no one else ever did. Stay with me, nothing will be able to come between us.” San leaned down until your lips were centimeters apart, his breath tickling your lips with every word. You tried not to give into him, knowing that this was wrong, but you also couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you just from being near him. You had always cared for San when you two were partners, hell there was even a time where you could argue that you did have a crush on him. That was back then however, when he was the sweet and easy going detective that decorated his desk with mini plushies and would whine if you forgot to get him a pastry on your morning coffee runs. This version of San wasn’t like that, even if the allure was still there, he was cold, twisted, and a killer.

“I can’t do this,” you argued, “you’re not the man I once cared about.” You tried to turn your head away from him, but he gripped your chin to force you to look at him.

“Yes I am, behind all of this it is still me and I can prove that to you,” he whispered, “just let me show you.” When you shook your head again he huffed, loosening his grip for a moment before it tightened again, “Fine then, how about another game?”

“I already won your stupid game though!” you challenged.

“Yet you still haven’t learned,” he fought back, “the least you can do is give me a chance to convince you. If you don’t give in then I will go with you to the station and turn myself in, but if I win then you quit being a detective for good and you stay with me.” You gave him a questioning look, at this point more than positive that he had gone insane. However, if playing his dumb games meant putting an end to Jigsaw, then you were more than willing to oblige.

“Alright fine, deal,” you reluctantly agreed. You only had a moment to register Sans smirk before he was pulling you against him again and connecting your lips. One hand stayed pressed against your back to keep you against him, while the other tangled itself in your hair, tugging slightly to get a reaction out of you. The kiss wasn’t rough or forced like you had expected, instead it was gentle and passionate, like he wanted to take his time with you. His lips were surprisingly soft against yours, and you began to slowly melt against his movements. You kissed him back and allowed him to have more control, whining softly against his lips when he tugged a bit harder at your hair. Your own hands trailed down his body, tracing his shoulders and chest for a few moments before daring to go a bit lower. San groaned as he felt you palm him over his robe, tightening his grip on your hair and deepening the kiss as his own hand reached down to grab at your thighs and your ass.

All your resolve melted away at his touch and you found yourself giving into him completely, relishing in the way he invaded your senses. All rationality had left completely, replaced with an unusual desire as San explored your body. As desperate as he was, his touches remained soft and left you craving more whenever he pulled his hand away. San walked you back until you reached the desk, lifting you up enough to sit you on top of it and slotting himself between your thighs as he finally pulled away. You only had a second to catch your breath before you were pushed back slightly and pinned down by your hands. San hovered above you with a knowing smirk, taking a moment to enjoy your flustered expression before leaning down to whisper directly in your ear.

“Looks like I won. Game Over!”

Ateez taglist: N/A

Please see my pinned post to be added to the taglist.

#sandsofirenet #atinyhalloweenproject #san x reader #choi san #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez smut #san fluff #san smut #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop fanfiction #horror au #slasher au #au #ateez au

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give-some-lemons · 2 months ago

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Watching/playing in horror genre with Sylus

~first of all he’s a busy man and despite the fact that he likes horror genre, usually he just don’t have enough time for watching movies giving more preference to books. He’s favorite would definitely be Stephen King for that atmosphere in his artworks.

~he’s a kind of person that will chuckle or at least smile at characters deaths, especially if it’s a stupid one like stepped on “the most obvious trap he’s ever saw” and he’s more than glad if you’re same, discussing how dumb heroes are for coming up with those decisions.

~he secretly waits for scary moments cause he loves when you cling to him all tensed seeking for his protection and comfort when monster’s face appears on the screen with a loud scream. But if you’re a tough one, that cannot be affected so easily don’t worry, after some time you’ll find yourself in his arms pressed against strong chest anyway.

~he would be glad to watch all the screen adaptations of Stephen King’s novels, even if he doesn’t like any of it, telling how much better it was on the book pages, but he has favorites like “Carrie” and “It”.

~movies about serial killers is his top of most enjoyable ones, sympathizing Myers and Ghost Face and considering how society itself made a monsters out of them. And that is the reason why you often need to put it on pause for you two to meet in a debate battles on that topic.

~if we’re talking about games he’s not much of a player but of course he will do that with you cause obviously that’s what you’d like. It takes some time for you to explain him how to play but since he’s a “talented student” he’s very fast at learning.

~for the reason that not so much horror games are a multiplayer ones, you play in turns, even if at first he prefers watching you, taking his turn only in case if some moments are too scary for you but after not so long mostly you will be the one to just sit, often giving him advice.

~I feel like this man would like “Resident evil 7” and first parts of this franchise, cause the atmosphere in some places there would keep him all in tense, plus he seems to really like the idea of Umbrella, an evil company with their terrible experiments on human body and you already were regretting of giving him ideas for his next business.

~even though he loves to control everything he seems to enjoy games with an unpredictable jump-scares like “Layers of Fear” or “Mortuary Assistant” that can throw him off course for a couple of seconds. And it’s funny for you to watch how carefully and slowly he’s trying to turn back not to be taken by surprise after the last jump-scare.

~”Phasmophobia” is next on your list, a game that was terrifying for you first times you played it. But despite your expectations you almost always were the one to die first while your man just sat there holding a laugh, hidden in the closet like he never even entered the haunted house. Newcomers are lucky not to go out on the ghosts, I guess.

~not a secret that he adores the feeling when somebody’s life fully depends of his choice, no matter if that’s a real life or a game, that’s why he enjoys “Until Dawn” along with “Dark Anthology Pictures”. That thrill of power and control that he has over these virtual humans make you feel very sorry for them. And don’t even doubt, if he doesn’t like the character they will not make it until the end, at least alive.

~he likes horror games/movies with a deep meaning, you know the ones after which you usually sat on one place for some time reflecting on what you’ve just seen or played. At that point you and your partner are talking sharing your thoughts and considering all the ways how differently it could be if characters did this instead of that.

~he would love as well physiological thrillers like “The Shining” and “The Babadook”, movies where the story is told through the thoughts of psychologically stressed characters, revealing their distorted mental perception of the world and how what seemed like a nice, not remarkable at any point person goes all the way straight to insanity.

~not a big fan of a body horror, as he thinks that it’s the easiest way to impress people with just an image of blood and organs everywhere on the screen. As was said before, he appreciates people’s emotions and the atmosphere, that puts viewers or players in a primary terror.

#sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #lnds sylus #lnds #lads sylus #lads

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colourstreakgryffin · 9 months ago

Note

Hi I’m the anon who submitted the ‘Hi! I hope you’re having a good day, I was wondering if you could do a platonic fanfic with parental Husk and Angel dust with a teen reader who tries to sneak out to prove their ‘adult’ enough to go out on their own. Maybe they get caught w a secret S/O 🤔’ ask and to answer your question I think a Huskerdust parental duo would be killer, thanks!

Hmmm… okaaay! That can work! This is my first Angel Dust writing as well! Let’s just pretend HuskerDust isn’t built on sexual harassment and that these two get married after a healthy relationship— just a little AU for a, could be, cute couple… if it’s handled better! Also, sorry… this is kinda short

Husk and Angel Dust- Growing Up

Before anything starts. Let’s establish how these two gay dads treat their adoptive teenage child!

Husk is a doting and caring but also strict and wise father. He gives off the most brutal but truthful advice and reality facts. He is a loving parent and won’t tolerate his child being mistreated or bullied so you can always turn to him when upset or in need for help, he is emotionally intelligent and protective after all

Angel, on the other hand, is the most affectionate and mindful father you’ll ever meet and have. He isn’t the one to deal out the punishments, he’s the fun one. Playing with his child, giving them unconditional love, support and encouragement but he is also quite protective. He will come running at the drop of a hat

Whilst both Husk and Angel encourage their kid to be independent and not rely so much on them, they aren’t a fan of letting you out on your own. You are still fifteen and therefore, completely vulnerable to this nightmarish hellfire realm called H E double hockey sticks

However, you’re determined to prove to both of your dads that you’re capable of defending yourself and be an adult so you’ve been recently sneaking out of your home and going around Pentagram City. On your own, no protective powerful Overlord father or protective infamous actor father

You’ve been doing it for weeks now. Going behind your dads’ back to prove to yourself, then to anybody, your complete and utter independence… but of course, all good things must end

And both of your dads had caught you escaping the house through the window and your beloved partner, a demon you fell in love with and begun dating in secret, just waiting in the backyard of your home whilst you climb out

Husk is very annoyed and ordering you to explain yourself, not at all happy with what you’ve done whilst Angel is dragging you off the windowsill and is resisting the urge to cry since his heart is broken

Your dads fend off your lover, not wanting to deal with them at this moment whilst they are trying to scold their child for doing this… and yes. This causes a big old fight with your parents. You just wanted to prove that you can handle yourself whilst your dads aren’t happy that you did something so reckless and harmful to yourself

Husk takes a bit longer to own up to his accident. Making you cry and angrily go to bed. You’re nearly a legal adult and they are shackling you… Angel can sense how you feel and immediately apologies for his lashout and tries to encourage his husband to do the same thing

When they do. They talk to you, accepting and encouraging, to try make a compromise inbetween you wanting to go outside at night to have fun with your lover, and talking to them and informing them about your location so you three will be happy

Husk lays down the must text them rule with this accommodation himself and his husband have made for you, their precious baby, that you must follow this at all causes whilst Angel is actually excited about you going to have fun on your own but begs you to inform either himself or his husband if anything bad happens to you

They just love you… please. Give them a break, they’ll try their best to let you do whatever you want on your own… as long as they know you’re okay

“Heartthrob. Do you have your present for your partner? Yes? That’s good. When you get to the party, text me or your father so we know you’re okay. That’s all we ask now. Here, let me finish rolling you up before you go”

“Fluffball! Fluffball! Fluffball! Aww! You look so precious! You’ll blow the competition off the dancefloor and you’ll make that partner of yours’ jaw drop! Make sure to shoot me or your dad a text when you’re there, ‘kay?“

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circeyoru · 8 months ago

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You Think It’s That Easy? _ Part 2 = Requested

[Yandere Human & Demon!Alastor x Arranged Marriage!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 2 (here)

You heard of Alastor’s death from the news, an accidental while he was in the bayou in the dead of night, mistaken as a deer by a couple of hunters and feasted upon by their hunting dogs. When the mistake was realized, it was already too late. Alastor was already dead

But that wasn’t what concerned you. It was the news that tied Alastor’s death to the death or disappearance of another individual. The Bayou Serial Killer, which has been ever so active as if possessed, stopped all activities after Alastor’s death. Loyal fans of Alastor’s radio show said it was a coincidence, some even trying to provoke the silent killer to prove Alastor’s innocence. To everyone’s horror, Alastor was not so innocent

The Bayou Serial Killer is and was Alastor, the famous radio host. Though to you, Alastor was more than that, he was your childhood friend and a good partner of a false marriage to satisfy both side’s parents, then later continued to ward off suitors for either of you two. Now there was one more identity of Alastor in your mind

A heartless killer

You realized that the late nights Alastor had before you left were all Alastor’s murder playtime. You should have known when he brushed off your worries for his safety, he whispered that he’ll be fine since he is confident in his self-defense. He didn’t tell you it was because he was the killer everyone feared

Yet the moment you felt a chill down your spine was when you remembered the promises Alastor made to you

“I’ll keep you safe.”

“You know I can deal with your troubles if you just ask, right?”

“I won’t let anything or one harm you, never.”

“Anyone that crosses you will face so much misfortune, you know?”

“Hahaha! How dare they prey you like vultures when you have me.”

The suitors that came to you and disappeared soon after… You now know what happened to them. Alastor happened. He killed them all. But you can’t understand why. What was the reason behind the killing and how had you never known?

That wasn’t the issue. The issue was that you felt guilty and fearful of the news. Couldn’t you have prevented all Alastor’s killing if you were more attentive? If you two hadn’t been as distant from each other to living your preferred lives, would things be different?

As a reminder to not be too involved with yourself and ignore others, you kept a red radio on the shelves by your books in the living room. Also a reminder that Alastor was gone

It wasn’t long before weird things started happening. First was that the radio would start up itself without anyone going near it, it wasn’t even powered so it was practically impossible for someone to turn it on or for the radio to play anything. First it was classic music, then it was love songs you’d hum from time to time, after that was eerie slow music with screams from time to time

Then items around your home would disappear and reappear somewhere. Your work left undone would be miraculously done when you wake up to continue doing it, even when you napped on top of it

You tried taking it to the shop to fix it but the shop owner said it was in perfect condition, no malfunction. You tried throwing it away even, but it appeared back on your shelf at its usual place

But when you tried banishing the radio with paranormal experts, those people that helped you all disappeared and then their bodies turned up like something clawed at them or poke something sharp into them. As weird as it was, police chalked it up with a raging deer or bears. Neither were good ends

What you’re worried about was how your lover, now husband was missing ever since the radio started piecing out your name and sweet nicknames that reminded you of Alastor

It wasn’t until once you got drunk and stumbled through the streets, trying to get home. You were pulled into an alley with someone trying to force themselves on you. In that drunken daze, everything was a blur and you weren’t in your right mind, so you didn’t even know why you called out that name

“Help… someone… Help me…” You tried fighting off or at least struggle against the grip but your limbs all felt like noodles. “Al… Alastor…”

“Of course, Love.”

You didn’t see the shadows raise and clawed hands gripping so tightly on your assailant’s arm that they released you. You knew you slumped down against the wall, your head bobbing back and forth and your hair all over the place to the point of covering one of your eyes

You didn’t hear your rescuer tear your attacker like paper, blood overflowing like a spring fountain, yet none got onto you. The screams of pain and the cries of mercy from your attacker who has now become the prey

The scene you saw, your mind didn’t register it, you were way too intoxicated from all the alcohol you drank to drown out your loneliness. You left Alastor, then he died and his secrets brought to light made you feel like you were not supportive enough. You missed your husband who’s on missing posters. Everything was so frustrating and sad at the same time

When it was all done, Alastor, in his shadowy form, kneeled in front of you, staring into your eyes. His fingers snapped and both of you reappeared back at your home. You in Alastor’s hold, carried like a princess, like during the wedding you two pretended to have and Alastor carried you all the way to the dance floor

“You’re so red, Alastor.” You slurred, eying his coat that was in a shade different from how you remember, why was it red? He wears dark brown ones. Your finger poked his cheeks, “Your smile’s too wide, if you smile this much, you’ll hurt your cheers.”

“It’s fine, Dearest.” Alastor spoke. Did you even hear the radio filter over his voice?

“I want to dance… I missed dancing with you…” You lamented as you lowered your finger to lay on your stomach with a pouty frown. “It’s been so long…”

“I think you need to rest, Darling.” Alastor started moving to your room. How did he know? No, did you even notice the way his eyes glowed when you mentioned missing him?

When you were laid down on the bed and tugged in, your clothes were magically changed to clean ones comfortable for sleeping soundly. “You’re leaving when I fall asleep… I just know it…”

The urge can’t be ignored. Alastor spent too long waiting and he is ready. “Well, if you agree, we can be together forever.”

“We’ll be back again?”

“Yes. If you shake my hand and wear this.” Alastor showed you a familiar band of gold. He kept it all these years, when he could first go to Earth due to your soul being binded to his, he searched high and low for it.

Your confused and tired mind honed in on the ring. A familiar and comforting thing you given up, tears swell and a hand reached for it. “We’ll be back? Alastor…”

“Yes.”

“Okay…”

When your eyes opened, you were met with a major headache and an unfamiliar room. Looking around, you tried to get your bearings. While you did, you tried to remember what happened. Was this some stranger’s home? You immediately lifted up the blanket and looked under, sighing when that didn’t seem to have happened in your drunken state

You finally took in your surroundings. It wasn’t unfamiliar now, it was nostalgic. A replica of the appearance of what was your shared bedroom with Alastor when you two were still playing house. You shook your head, expecting all this to be your hallucination

Yet it didn’t fade back to what was supposed to be your bedroom. Confusion and fear set in. As did the memories of last night. What happened? Did you hallucinate Alastor appearing and saving you? But that didn’t look like Alastor. That can’t be Alastor. A monster. A demon. That’s what it was

Though Alastor was the only one to make you feel that at peace and calm and relaxed. The voice was his, just with an odd radio filter

The door to the room opened and the Alastor you met last night appeared in your sights. He closed the door behind him, smiling, “Welcome home, Dear Wife of mine.”

As Alastor had sworn, he brought you to Hell. You were his and he was yours. Try to run and it won’t be successful. For the two of your souls are bound together.

Note: I'mma out of ideas for this one, so before you ask for a part 3. Just know that the likelihood of it happening is very very rare since I got other series that's more active now. There could be trivia or asks, that's what I consider to be extra parts to this one.

Circe Y.

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