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falling-endlessly · 3 months

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The Finer Things in Death

Alastor x Soulmate!Female!Reader

Summary: An AU where your soulmate's first words to you are tattooed on your body in their handwriting.

Oh dear, where's your smile?

You knew those words by heart. Could recite them backwards, in your sleep even. Those damning words have been inscribed on the inside of your ankle for as long as you could remember, the elegant cursive strokes poking out of your shoe line.

In theory, somewhere, someone else was supposed to be sporting your own neat, boxy handwriting. You'd say you lucked out with yours. Some soul marks were less than pleasant, and others were downright embarrassing (imagine having the words move, asshole written on your stomach for the rest of your life. No thank you).

At least your soulmate was trying to cheer you up, right?

Yeah, but there was just one teeny, tiny problem.

Your soulmate was dead. Long dead actually.

Were they stillborn? Did their toddler self die in a house fire or something? Night after night you laid awake in your bed, pondering what the hell could have possibly happened to have altered the entire course of fate.

All you really knew was that your soul mark was a light gray (indicating a severed bond) instead of the usual inky black, and it had been since the day you were born. Everyone was in shock to see the faint words on your little ankle. After all, how could a soul mark exist if the other person wasn't even alive to speak those words into existence?

Simply put, you were a conundrum, and it had been some time since you had dedicated effort into figuring out why? You'd accepted it. Your soulmate was dead. Life went on.

Besides, you'd spent enough time grieving over someone you'd never met before.

Your lifestyle was not extravagant by any means, but it was comfortable. You had a steady income, lived on your own in an apartment in the city, and survived off of more than ramen bowls. Every day you would come home and read in your little fluffy alcove that you'd built yourself by your window, or pop open a bag of chips (and the occasional bottle of wine, if you were feeling fancy) while you watched the latest crime show releases from your couch.

Yes, so comfortable was your little routine, that you didn't notice the robbery happening in the convenience store you were browsing in, or the stray bullet coming for your head until it was too late. Your skull exploded in a world of pain, eyes rolling back as your body crumpled to the ground.

Dying was an interesting experience, to say the least. Your soul floated from your body, the final notes of music that blasted from your earphones fading into nothingness like the sound of a car driving away.

There was a brief moment where you were struck numb, hovering in the air as you stared down at your glassy eyed corpse, blood pooling alarmingly from the circular shaped hole in your head. You heard screams of the other customers behind you, but they were kind of muffled, like you were underwater.

It didn't last long though, because before you knew what was happening, you felt an almighty tug downwards, like an anchor had just chained itself to your stomach.

And that was how you ended up in hell. Fun. What were you here for? You had no idea. Maybe God got mad that your teenage self stole a few packs of gummy bears in high school. But a life of eternal damnation and suffering seemed a little harsh, didn't it?

Before you could contemplate the semantics of it though, something...strange happened. Your ankle, right where you'd tried countless times to forget your soul mark existed, was burning like a fucking brand.

You hissed sharply in pain, frantically pulling down your sock to assess the damage. Was the eternal punishment starting already or something? Shit, you had terrible pain tolerance.

But what you saw made you gasp. In fact, you could hardly believe your eyes.

Because in the place of your faded grey soul mark, the letters had been reinvigorated, darkened with a swift hand and—glowing they were glowing holy shit.

"Hah," you huffed in disbelief, shaking your head slowly. "So that was it, huh? I was destined to meet my shitty soulmate in hell this whole fucking time?" You punctuated the last words with a few angry kicks to an unassuming patch of weeds. What a cosmic joke at your existence.

But, like you always did in shitty situations, you gathered all of your raging emotions, stuffed them tightly in a box at the back of your mind, and cooled your head. Freaking out in this place would do you no good.

Turned out hell was pretty much like the world you'd left, except for the fact that you could kill someone on the street and nobody would bat an eye. Like all of the depraved aspects of humanity were on full display now in a somehow still functioning society.

You managed to snag a job at an old record store, the owner giving you one look before grunting and gesturing to the register—but not before lifting his jacket to show you the long assault riffle strapped across his chest. Yeesh, you got the message.

It wasn't a bad job by any means, especially considering where you were. Sure a little boring and monotonous, but you'd restock thousands of old albums if it meant staying away from the overlords.

Oh, yeah, another thing. Overlords were like the big shots around hell. Messing with them usually meant a death sentence, or worse, a contract.

And if there was anything at all that you picked up from all those nights of watching television, it was that you do not make deals with the devil. Really, elementary level shit. And you'd never actually seen Lucifer, mind you, but these demons were probably a close second, right?

Yeah, so really, you were just living a shittier variant of your life on earth it seemed. Repetitive, safe and comforting. You were even starting to like the scent of musty cardboard, as weird as that was.

And once again, all thoughts of your soulmate slipped your mind.

Until one day, when everything went to shit.

****

It started like this: with the sad sight of your empty fridge.

You groaned, dragging a tired hand down your face. Seriously? You thought you'd restocked already, damn it.

Your stomach growled achingly, and you sighed, wondering if you'd actually die again if you starved yourself. Begrudgingly, you decided that you didn't really want to chance it, throwing on the first set of clothes that you saw and slipping out of your dingy apartment to make a quick grocery run.

You generally hated leaving your apartment, and didn't do so except to retrieve bare necessities or walk across the block to go to work.

Why? Well, see exhibit A to your left: some poor, random demon screeching and running around on fire. See exhibit B to your right: a turf war between two rival gangs. And finally how could you forget, cannibal colony, slurping up intestines like bloody, chunky spaghetti. Disgusting.

The worst thing about hell wasn't the fact that you were in hell, it was the fact that the worst of the worst people were all cramped together like some fucked up refugee camp, and some people were significantly worse than others. Which sucked, for the poor unfortunate souls just trying to get by. Like you.

You sighed, ducking under a stray stream of bullets (you weren't falling for that shit twice) and side stepping pools of blood and guts. Just a regular Monday morning in hell. God damn it.

It seemed luck wasn't on your side though, because an ugly, dog-headed demon blocked your path, sneering down at you smugly. "Hey bitch, it's your lucky day. The big boss is hiring, and you fit the profile."

You clenched your grocery bags in a white-knuckled grip. Nobody would give a flying fuck if you were dragged off of the street in broad daylight. "Not interested."

"Oh it wasn't a suggestion," he chuckled darkly. You tensed as you were surrounded by at least four other demons. Shit, you knew you should have slept in.

"You like apples?" You nodded sharply at the demon in charge.

His face twisted in annoyance. "Why the fuck do y—"

You reached into your bag, before hurling a granny smith straight at his forehead. He yelped as it made contact, stumbling back as he shook his head in confusion. While everyone was still in shock from your weapon of choice, you shoved your way out of the circle, gunning it straight down the street because your second life did depend on it.

"Get her!" You heard a yell of absolute rage, making you shiver. Fuck, that did not sound promising. That apple must have really pissed him off.

Putting your limited aerobics to use, you ducked, dodged and lunged through the crowd like a pro. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, air burning your lungs as you pumped your legs faster. But of course, your grocery bag ripped open, sending all of your food tumbling and you by extension, tripping and face planting in the dirt rather pathetically.

A meaty hand gripped a handful of your hair, yanking it up harshly. You cried out as he pulled, hands uselessly trying to smack his away, but his hold only tightened. A liquor-filled breath and cheap cologne invaded your senses, making you cough.

"Uppity bitch," he growled, giving your scalp a painful yank for good measure. "You actually thought you could get away? Maybe I should teach you a lesson, huh? Sample the goods."

You froze, every nerve in your body going cold. So far in your stay in hell, you'd managed to avoid the more depraved souls here. You kept your head down, didn't draw attention to yourself, and were mostly left alone. Looked like today, your luck had finally run out.

"Get the hell off of me!" You spat, twisting around vehemently, only for your head to snap to the side as you were harshly backhanded.

"Stop your fucking whining and stay still!" He snapped, narrowing his eyes.

You bared your teeth, snapping at him aggressively.

A round of mocking chuckles went around the group of your kidnappers, the one holding your hair giving you a wicked grin. "Shit, that was cute. Really—"

He didn't get to finish his sentence, because his head exploded. Literally exploded, blood and brain matter dripping from your face. His hand went slack, dropping you on your wobbling knees.

Everyone was silent for a second, staring at the bloody mess where the demon was standing two seconds prior.

And that was when you heard it. Static. Loud, crackling and ominous.

Your mouth went dry. Shit. Shitty shit shit. You knew what that meant. How could you not? The asshole broadcasted his killings all over hell like a fucking psychopath. And now, it was your turn to become hell's gory entertainment. Fan-fucking-tastic.

You stood frozen, breath stuck in your throat as dark, menacing tendrils slowly curled along the walls. A large, grinning shadow rounded the corner, before the culprit himself stalked into view, razor sharp teeth on display as he tilted his head. "Oh," his grin widened. "Am I interrupting?"

"N-No man," one of the braver demons stuttered, taking a step back. "You can have her—"

Splat.

You turned slowly to face the bloody wall, eyes wide in disbelief.

"How distasteful," the radio demon shook his head. "As if I'd participate in your brainless thuggery. No, no. Unlike you gentlemen, I have class. Truly," his eyes lit up like glowing radio dials, a dark shadowy mass rising behind him as his antlers branched out like a gnarled, rotten tree. "Did your mother never teach you any manners?"

Faster than you could blink, the demons around you were reduced to blood, cartilage and splintered bone. The overwhelming irony scent made you want to gag, but you didn't dare move a muscle, eyes fixated on the terrifying sight before you.

When the radio demon noticed your staring, his smile sharpened, antlers shrinking as he leisurely approached you. Oh no. Nononono.

You struggled to keep from hyperventilating, your body going into shock as he leaned into your personal space. Two bloody fingers pushed into your cheeks, forcing your mouth into a morbid, artificial smile. "Oh dear," he tutted in amusement. "Where's your smile?"

You jerked back violently, eyes wide as icy cold realization washed over you. Dread squeezed your lungs as you stared at the grinning, bloody figure of your soulmate in horror.

The radio demon. Psychopath and mass murderer.

Your soulmate.

What the FUCK.

"T-This," your voice shook. "This is not happening."

There was a sudden screech of radio static, before his own eyes widened. Shit. "What," he said sharply. "Did you just say?"

"A-Ah," you trembled, leaning back. Every single nerve in your body was alight, screaming at you to get the ever-loving fuck away from him. In what was probably the stupidest and most desperate plan of your life, you pointed over his shoulder fearfully. "Look! Another one!"

As soon as he turned his head, you bolted down the street.

****

You slammed your front door closed behind you, double—triple checking your lock before sliding down to the floor in a panting mess.

Immediately you grew paranoid. What the fuck were you thinking? A lock wouldn't keep the radio demon out. You needed fifty more locks and ten more doors. You needed to barricade yourself inside for the next month. You needed—

"Hello there!" An exuberant voice chirped.

You screamed, throwing the first thing you could grab in his direction. He caught the house slipper, inspecting it in amusement, before tossing it over his shoulder.

"My, did I scare you sweetheart? Apologies," he grinned smugly, relaxing in your recliner with a mug of coffee. Your favorite mug.

You blinked. What the fuck?

"What are you doing in my house?" You squeaked, fingers digging into your welcome mat.

"Oh dear, allow me to introduce myself," he set the mug down on your coffee table, leisurely rising from the couch and offering a hand. "I'm Alastor! A pleasure to be meeting you sweetheart, quite a pleasure."

You didn't take his hand, instead choosing to gape at him like a dead fish.

He retracted his hand, tilting his head with a shit-eating grin. Twirling his cane, he continued like there wasn't just an awkward and terrifying pause. "I hope you don't mind that I followed you! You see, I believe our conversation was cut a bit...short." His eyes glowed as unidentifiable symbols floated in the air around him.

As quickly as they appeared however, they disappeared like they were never there. Jesus Christ, this man was giving you emotional whiplash. "Anywho!" He perked up again, ever the charming grin on his face. "Enough about me! I've yet to catch your name, darling."

Fuck. You really didn't want to give him your name.

But before you could open your mouth, he leaned closer to you, grin widening ominously. "I hope you're not thinking of lying, my dear. I must say, I'm not very fond of that quality."

"Y-Y/n!" You said quickly, raising your hands to shield your face.

There was a slight pause, before a gentle touch swiped at your cheek, retracting after a moment. You peeked your eye open, only to become vaguely ill at the sight.

"You had a little something on your face," he chuckled in amusement, holding out a clump of brain matter. With a swift flick, it was magicked away.

"What do you want?" You whimpered, overwhelmed with the entire situation.

"Oh dear, is it really that strange for me to want to get to know my soulmate?" He tilted his head, leaning towards you uncomfortably close.

"Y-Yes, actually," you stuttered, trying to look anywhere but his prominent red eyes. "I thought you'd do something more along the lines of...killing and eating me." You shrunk back as his grin widened. "Please don't eat me."

"How morbid, I would never!" He waved it away, like the idea was preposterous. "My word! What awful rumors you've been hearing about me!"

"You frequent cannibal colony and I just saw you tear apart six demons like they were freshly baked bread," you stared at him incredulously. "What hasn't been spot on?"

He paused, before giving you a humoring chuckle. "Well it seems your impression of me needs correcting!" Before you knew what was happening, nimble fingers encircled your wrist, pulling it forward gently. He pressed warm lips to the back of your hand, before giving you a charming grin. "Enchantée, ma chère."

You blinked, breath stuck in your throat. "What—What does that mean?"

"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about it!" He gently set your hand down, before pinching your cheek condescendingly. "Well my dear, I'm afraid I have other responsibilities I must attend to!"

He stood up with a flourish, leaning on his microphone cane as he smirked at you. "Not to worry!" He snapped his fingers, and a slim, feminine shadow emerged from the ground. "Missy here will watch over you in my stead."

"What? No, I—"

"I'll be back before you know it!" He offered a chilling smile, before melting into a puddle of shadows.

You gaped at the spot where he once stood, trying to process what the actual fuck just happened. Your gaze slid over to the feminine looking shadow, still standing in the corner of your living room. She grinned at your attention, teeth sharpened.

You closed your eyes, head thumping back against your door in exhaustion.

"I'm so fucked."

****

Enchantée, ma chère : Charmed, my dear

#hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin #radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor x oc #alastor x ofc #alastor x original female character #hell #hazbin alastor #alastor being a menace #alastor being alastor

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jinjeriffic · 3 months

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DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 2

Part 1

Damian glared at the envelope. He and Father were in the process of analysing the letter for any signs of toxins, explosives or other traps. Obviously he wasn’t fool enough to open a missive from a questionable source without taking precautions. So far, all their scans had come up empty. Literally. The letter was defying all their attempts at chemical or spectroscopic testing, x-ray and magnetic resonance scans were inconclusive, it defied all properties of ordinary matter. It was frustrating. It was vexing. He was blaming magic.

For all intents and purposes, the letter looked like ordinary paper, with an ordinary wax seal, bearing the initials CW. The looping handwriting addressing it to Damian was precise and neat. Swiping the surface of the letter for chemical traces yielded no results. When Damian had tried to cut off a corner of the paper for analysis it had resisted all attempts, including a laser and a diamond headed cutting tool. Damian’s only satisfaction was that when Father had grunted and taken over the task from Damian, he had no more success than his son. As if Damian didn’t know how to perform the standard array of tests!

It certainly didn’t help that his siblings wouldn’t stop their incessant chattering!

“I’m just saying, ghosts wouldn’t be the weirdest thing we’ve encountered, Red. I’m not sure it would even make my personal Top 5.”

It seemed gossip among heroes travelled faster than the speed of light.

“Really, Nightwing? Ghosts? It’s far more likely to be a meta with something to hide. Or a few screws loose.” Damian could practically hear the eyeroll in Drake’s voice “And since when do ghosts act as glorified mailmen?”

“I don’t know Red, since when do aliens pretend to be Kansas farmboys? C’mon, we deal with magic users all the time!”

“And lets not forget people coming back from the dead” Red Hood interjected over the open comm line.

“Magic is just science we don’t understand yet. Any sufficiently analysed magic becomes indistinguishable from science!”

“B, a little help here?”

“Hn” Father straightened up from his position at the lab table “Oracle, any progress on clearing up the footage from Robin’s mask?”

Grayson threw up his hands with a frustrated huff while Drake smirked.

“The program is almost finished rendering. Whatever scrambler they used did a real number on the video quality. I’m surprised the audio is as clear as it is.” Oracle replied.

“Hn. And the isotope tracer on the money?”

“Sorry B, no hits on the local sensors. Wherever the guy went it’s either outside Gotham or shielded somehow.” she said, mildly frustrated.

“Maybe it’s ghost magiiiiic” Drake sing-songed. Grayson lightly cuffed the back of his head, to which the former Robin responded with a firm shove. Their interaction quickly devolved into a childish tussle.

Damian gave an annoyed huff. “Don’t you two imbeciles have anything better to do?”

“Aww, we’re just here to look out for our baby brother!” Nightwing teased.

“Yeah, we gotta make sure your ghost encounter didn’t leave any lasting psychological damage!” Red Robin added.

Before Damian could retaliate for their needling, Oracle chimed in. “Uh, guys? You’re going to want to see this. Most of the footage was corrupted beyond repair, but I was able to pull some partial stills and, well…” she threw a handful of pictures up on the screen. There was artifacting marring them, but parts of the stranger were visible in each of them. Oracle magnified one that had a pretty good view of his face.

“Holy shit” Drake whispered.

Damian frowned. “What?”

“Dami, he looks like you. Just… older.” Grayson said softly.

“What are you talking about?” Damian snapped.

“Disregard the pale colouring for a second. The nose, the chin… he looks like you if you had a growth spurt,” Drake wrinkled his nose “and went through puberty.”

The commlines erupted into chaos.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Spoiler exclaimed “are you telling me there’s an older version of Robin running around Gotham?!”

“Copy?” Batgirl inquired.

“Don’t tell me Talia cooked up Demon Brat 2.0!”

“Given that he looks older it’s more likely version 0.1 if anything,” Drake snarked, “though there’s the possibility of artificially accelerated growth rates…”

Damian had had enough. “Tt. You are ignoring the obvious - if this is some kind of supernatural entity it likely copied aspects of my appearance in an attempt to engender feelings of familiarity.” he said haughtily, pushing down the uncomfortable churning in his stomach. There was no way Mother would replace him with a cheap copy. She couldn’t! “Besides, the creature has obvious powers and neither of my bloodlines has any trace of the meta gene.”

“That’s ignoring the ghostly elephant in the room.” Grayson chimed in, “Maybe it’s a dead ancestor?”

Drake gave their older brother an annoyed look “Even a time travelling descendant from the future is more likely than that. And delivering a ‘prophecy’ to boot?”

Oracle pulled up an aged up picture of Damian next to the stranger’s, highlighting several reference points. “On closer inspection, there’s a couple of discrepancies. The cheekbones for one - Robin definitely takes after his mother, while our mystery meta looks more like… well… Robin’s grandmother on the paternal side.” she finished hesitantly. “B?”

They turned to look at Batman, who had remained silent during the whole exchange. If they hadn’t known him so well they would have thought him unaffected, but the tightening around his mouth betrayed his agitation.

“There’s no use in pointless speculation until we have more data to work from,” he growled, “Oracle, look for any reports of a meta matching the target. Since our regular methods have failed to yield results, I will contact the JLD about running tests on the letter.” He turned to Drake, “Red Robin, see what you can find on recent League activities. If this is another scheme by Ra’s or Talia we need to know about it.”

“The last thing we need is more demon spawn running around!” Red Hood groaned over the comms.

Damian was furious. This was absurd! To even indulge the possibility that that creature was in any way related to him was making him feel like he had swallowed battery acid. He was the Demon’s Heir! He was not replaceable! There was only one thing to do.

“Robin? Stop!”

He ignored his Father’s shout. He stomped over to the lab table, snatched up the envelope and broke the seal.

Nothing happened.

He unfolded the paper and saw the same handwriting that had been on the outside.

Brother of blood, brother of soul

Never buried but already mourned

In lightning and ice the scorned child returned

To strike down the Demon’s Head

With all that Death earned

Damian’s hand shook. He reread the lines over and over again, refusing to comprehend. He could feel his Father standing behind him, scrutinising the letter as well.

“Son…”

Suddenly, the paper burst into green flames, going up into smoke that dissipated unnaturally quickly.

Silence reigned for a few moments. Then…

“Well that was needlessly melodramatic” Nightwing remarked.

Part 3

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #dc domics #batfamily #no beta we die like danny phantom #prophecy universe #the one where clockwork uses prophecies to mess things up (and set things right)#fanfic #congrats bruce it's a boy #clockwork loves melodrama

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lxkeee · 3 months

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MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE PART THREE

pairing: Lucifer x fem! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: fanfiction

notes: Imaoo sorry it took awhileee I'm actually a very busy college student while simultaneously having so much brainrot for this man so... Be patient omfg, I just posted part one a two days ago also, don't mind the warnings too much as it doesn't specifically for this specific chapter but it can be future parts of the story. So yes, hand holding before marriage will happen between Lucifer and [y/n]

warnings: none except hand holding before marriage Imao.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR

Lucifer paced back and forth in his room, worried. Walking around the large master's bedroom, passing by many piles of rubber ducks he made.

“She should be back by now.” Lucifer murmured to himself, sighing.

His eyes landed on to the framed pictures decorating his walls.

He prayed that Charlie met [y/n] up there, the one angel he trusts. Though, it has been eons since he's last seen her, he wonders if [y/n] changed after all these years, especially after he had fallen from grace.

Did she hate him? Did she miss him like how he misses her?

As he sat on his arm chair, a gold sealed white envelope manifested on top of the coffee table in front of him, pink glittery smoke surrounding the letter.

“...What the...?” Lucifer murmurs, hesitant and cautious, eyeing the envelope. What if it's a trap?

Suddenly his phone buzzed, he immediately checked it to see it was a text message from Charlie.

“I just left a letter on your table, it's from someone you know. I'll tell you everything that happened in heaven but I'll rest for a bit. Love you dad!”

Lucifer smiled though a tad bit worried, he can tell that the meeting didn't go as his daughter hoped. He can only give her time.

Lucifer then now turned his eyes back on the neat envelope, sparkling a little. He turned the letter around to see it was specifically addressed to him, written in an oh so familiar handwriting to him. Unknowingly, just by seeing the handwriting was enough for his eyes to tear up a little.

“[y/n]....” He murmurs, finally opening the letter. Using his sharp nails to scrape off the wax without breaking it or tearing the envelope. Taking out the carefully folded light yellow paper, unfolding it to reveal her letter to him.

My Dearest Lucifer

His cheeks flushed slightly, with a comma after dearest. My Dearest, Lucifer

“Oh [y/n], this will keep me up at night.” Lucifer murmurs with a small dorky smile on his face, his sharp teeth shining against the light, eyes watering.

My Dearest, Lucifer

It has been awhile hasn't it? A couple of eons since we've last seen each other. You have no idea how excited I was when I heard your daughter would be coming here in hell. I made sure to write a letter in advance a day before her arrival. I have a lot to tell you, first and foremost, I truly missed you. You sly man, you really got married without inviting me. How's your time down there? I hope hell is treating you right, I really hope I'll get a chance to see you again. I hope we'll get a proper chance to talk, I want to personally hear you how you've been doing. I hope you'll get the chance to see the good of humans after giving them free will, I promise to find a way for you to leave and visit earth. I am running out of paper to right on but I promise to help your daughter up here and lastly, I want you to remember that I adore you always.

“Sincerely yours, [y/n] [l/n]” Lucifer softly reads out, voice shaking. It felt like he could hear her as he read the letter. The same kind [y/n] who always believed in him. His heart swells knowing that she's still trying to help in any way she can despite their distance. She never stopped believing in him despite him leaving without notice (not that he had the chance to).

“If only you knew how much I adore you too, [y/n]...” Lucifer murmurs softly, his finger tracing the outline of the paper ever so gently.

“I want to see you again, I have so many things to say to you... So many unsaid words I wanted to say... I wanted to tell you that I love...” Lucifer's eyes widened ever so slightly, cheeks turning red. He knows he loves her and he still does but he also loves his ex-wife, Lilith. Does he? Or is he just holding into something that no longer exists as it was something he had for a long time and now it's gone?

Everything in his life changed, Lilith's love for him changed, he changed.

Despite all of this, [y/n] remained unchanging inside his heart. Sure, Lilith held the majority of his heart but now? He is not sure but he is 100% sure [y/n] never left, he still has affections for the angel.

How can he not? She's the only one who believed in him when he was up in heaven? She comforted him whenever the elders said hurtful things to his ideas.

But now...

Her letter gave him a sense of hope that his decision of giving mankind free will might not be useless after all.

Lucifer closes the letter, gently folding it back on how it was folded before he opened it. Bringing the piece of paper to his nose, smelling the faint scent of her perfume. It brought back memories of his time with her in heaven.

“I'll ask Charlie about what happened up there later but for now, I'll take a moment to process this.” He says with a small sigh. Slipping the folded paper back into the envelope.

Lucifer sighs as he gently places the envelope back on his table, walking to his balcony. Eyes staring up into the smoky red skies of hell, devoid of any moon and stars.

He used to stargaze with her when he was still in heaven.

[y/n] was his moon, who shines during his darkest days.

Waving his finger in the air, specks of golden dust flickers out of his fingers. Forming a crescent moon.

Lucifer leans into the railings, eyes staring at the faux moon he created.

“Moon, tell me if I could...” Lucifer softly sang, eyes tired but hopeful. “Send up my heart to you...?” he asked softly, unfortunately no one answered.

A bit of a timeskip....

It has been a few months since Charlie's visit here in heaven and the next extermination is getting closer by the day. Emily and I are still trying to look for ways to help Charlie.

Sera adores Emily, I am sure that she wouldn't get punished. I on the other hand, Sera has been keeping a close eye on me. Criticizing me. Lute being tasked to watch my every move.

“Sera, this is utterly ridiculous! We should give those poor souls a second chance.” [Y/n] says, clenching her fists as she looked at Sera who was sitting on her chair inside the Seraphim office.

“That is enough, [y/n]. You keep this up and you'll end up fallen like Lucifer.” Sera said sternly, eyes glaring at the [y/n]. “You barely managed to escape that fate before, you could've fallen the same time as Lucifer but thankfully your actions weren't as severe as his.”

[y/n] slammed her fists against the table, angel eyes appearing on her wings with fury, “We aren't God, Sera! Who gave you the right to judge those sinners and claim they don't deserve a second chance?” she exclaimed.

Sera stood up from her seat, anger evident on her face. “Don't you dare raise your voice at me! You're on thin ice, [y/n]!”

[y/n] rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over chest, “What are you going to do? Huh? Kick me out of heaven?”

Sera's glare sharpened, patience running thin. “Keep that attitude up and you just might.”

“Lucifer doesn't deserve this treatment! You cursed him to not see the good of people! You cursed the people who have a chance to redeem themselves by taking their life! How does it feel that so much blood is spilled because of your decision?!” [y/n] asked angrily, tears running down her cheeks.

“We have our own souls to protect! This decision wasn't easy to make!” Sera remarked angrily, her wings spread out intimidatingly.

“Protect them from what?! As far as I know, it's only us angels who are a threat to them? If they do something that doesn't fit your standards or the elder's standards they are bound to fall from grace!” [y/n] says mockingly, rage and annoyance evident on both women's eyes.

“That's it, you've crossed the line!”

“You don't want to admit that I am right, angels are such selfish, greedy, and filthy creatures. I cannot believe I am associated with beings whose hands are stained with blood.”

You know, falling doesn't seem so bad.

Strong and harsh winds are blowing against my back, thankfully I still have my wings. It is currently useless, unfortunately. I don't have the energy to flap them to save myself from the approaching pain.

After that argument with Sera, the higher seraphim thought I was already way out of line and disrespectful. I was placed on trial, handcuffed with the type of handcuffs that prevents me from using my angelic powers while it simultaneously sucked the energy out of me.

I was deemed guilty, shameful, and ungrateful and a threat to the order of heaven.

Tossed out of the pearly gates of heaven by none other than Adam, that asshole really grabbed me by the hair.

[y/n] sighs softly, vision blurring. Trying to focus it as she falls from grace. The skies looked so beautiful.

Lucifer would've loved these skies, we've stargazed during the night before. When he was still in heaven with me.

Lucifer, I can see Ursa Major tonight. Someday, I'll bring you back here on the surface and stargaze like we've always do. No matter how many stars are in the sky, you always take my attention. You're like my star, you shine so bright and so pure.

I'll join you in the pits of hell, I hope you didn't forget about me.

I should be happy that I'm finally leaving that god awful place.

Why am I so scared of falling to my demise?

For a moment, I can see a glimpse of how Lucifer felt when he fell from grace.

Terrifying.

[Y/n] closes her eyes as she finally goes past the Earth's crust. Ichor flowing out of her hands from the handcuffs she had to wear.

“I am not allowed to die, I still need to see him.” [y/n] murmurs before eventually crashing into the fiery grounds of hell, she fortunately crashed somewhere where there weren't any people, a wide space of nothing but dead trees, a hotel can be seen in the distance.

Pain, pain shot everywhere her body. She let out a sharp scream of pure pain. Blood spilled everywhere before she eventually passed out.

It didn't matter, the pain didn't matter. She's here now. She'll look for him or Charlie.

She doesn't know Charlie would find her first.

END NOTES: YUHHH THEY'LL SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN IN THE NEXT UPDATEE

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#lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel x reader #lxkeee updates #lucifer morningstar #“MLIMAM” — LUCIFER X READER

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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 8 months

Text

HONEY, I’M HOME ─── jackson rippner ✧♤

ೃ⁀➷ “You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.” — ‘Letters to Milena’, Franz Kafka

pairing. jackson rippner x assassin!reader

summary. jackson hires a prostitute the night before meeting his target. only thing is, you’re not a prostitute— you’re an assassin hired to kill him. but he catches your eye, and instead, you keep him for yourself.

warnings. swearing, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex, slight housewife kink, kidnapping, drugging, pretty toxic relationship lmao, somnophilia, dubcon, hate-sex kinda, guns, choking, stockholm syndrome, cervix fucking, jackson gets a taste of his own medicine basically😭, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 6.1k

a/n. OKAY i know i said it was going into the direction of dom!reader but i got possessed and now,,, now we have this hate sex filth🫡

When Jackson comes to, the very first thing his mind registers in your perfume. It’s sweet and vanilla-y and entirely intoxicating, sending his mind whirling back to prehistoric days, childhood days, a vague mother figure he’d long forgotten about pressing sugar cookie dough onto a metal pan.

Instead, as Jackson’s eyes fluttered open and adjusted to the bright, warm lamp-light curling around him and the various furniture in the room, he sees you, sitting in front of him on the floor.

Your knees are pulled up and tucked under your chin, and it seems you’ve fallen asleep, your face peaceful and serene as soft inhales and exhales of breath leave you.

You look like a pure angel, dolled up in a silk lace dress and neat bows so pristinely Jackson swore he could see a halo resting above your soft locks, but he knows you’re someone who can kill — has killed.

Jackson had been staying in a motel, readying himself to meet the target he was stalking the next day — some politico's daughter, y’know, perfect blackmail material — when you’d knocked on his door, dressed in a skanky skintight dress and garter belt, promising some fun for a flimsy fifty.

Prostitution was illegal in this state, but Jackson had some money and time to kill — plus, if he didn’t get something now he’d probably fuck his target, which wasn’t really encouraged considering he could get attached, all that bullshit job professionalism. He wouldn’t, obviously, but his higher-ups didn’t think the same.

So he agreed; you looked stupid enough, and with that nice pair on you, those sweet curves, you were bound to be a good fuck. And you were definitely enough for him to handle— handle killing, he meant. It’d be easy: get you a little tipsy ‘cause it was his “kink” or some shit like that, kill you when you’re coming, dispose of your body, and meet the target in the morning.

But then you’d kissed him, hungry and desperate and rough, and totally, completely, slipping the pill tucked under your tongue down his throat.

Jackson realized immediately, his hands darting to the gun he had tucked in his belt, but you punched him in the stomach and the jaw before he could even undo the safety. And then he’d done it: he’d swallowed the drug, and the effects were instantaneous, the connection between his thoughts and his limbs losing focus, body sluggish like he was wading through water.

So suddenly had the situation had gone from him hiring a prostitute to getting fucking drugged by one, and he felt his composure slipping, the outrage burning in his lungs. Jackson thought himself to be a logical, well-thought out man who planned things to the tee, and this was not fucking following his plan.

“What did you - do t’ me?!” He spat, voice growing slurred, bent over and clutching his stomach.

“Mm,” you considered telling him, pursing your lips and watching him sway back and forth, “just a little something to calm you down. But, honey, I think you better sit down… it's not a mild drug.”

“Answer my fucking—“ Jackson started caustically, then felt that familiar pins and needles sensation appear in his arms, then spread to his legs, before finally falling to the floor.

“See?” You cooed, standing above him. You watched him struggle against the drug for a moment, before grinning and pulling him up off the floor onto the bed.

Jackson listlessly fought your touch, slowly thrashing and kicking at you; his limbs may have grown numb, but his inhibitions had not lowered whatsoever, nor his paranoia. Good paranoia, in this situation, just not so good that it kicked in before you shoved a paralytic down his throat.

You rolled your eyes, sitting down beside him and pushing his head onto your lap, digging your elbow into his chest to make him stay in place.

Jackson choked at the pressure, blinking rapidly. “Who th- the -- fuck are you?”

“I’m an assassin, honey. I’m gonna kill you — or, y’know, I’m supposed to kill you.” You beamed at him, “but I can’t do that, now can I? That’d be a waste of such a pretty face.”

Jackson’s brows knitted exasperatedly, mouth contorting to speak, but nothing came out. In fact, his mouth hadn’t been moving at all— his face had grown numb, now blankly staring up at you.

“There we go,” you said happily. “The drug’s all kicked in now, hasn't it? I’ll speak freely, ‘cause y’can’t answer me anymore, not even scream or cry.”

You sighed, your shoulders slumping like you were finally able to fucking relax, and began petting his hair before continuing. “You’re a naughty one, aren’t you? Stalking that politician’s daughter… were you gonna fuck her? Threaten her dad, have some fun, then kill them both?”

Jackson’s breathing grew more furious, eyes widening— or, they would’ve, if he could move. This was about his job, about the target, not just some fucking freak accident and a crazy prostitute.

You frowned, shaking your head. “You’ve gotta do more research on the people you blackmail, honey— Mr. Politican’ll do anything to keep his little princess safe. Even murder.”

You then got up, and Jackson watched you pull something out of your tights, unable to respond or protest or even fucking move, frozen still on the cheap motel mattress.

“But like I said, you’re too cute to die like that. I think I’ll keep you for myself.” You winked, before pricking him in the neck with the needle that was hidden in your tights.

His breath hitched, but there was no use: black quickly curled into the edges of his vision, and one second passed, then another, then he was out.

That brought him back to now, waking up with his arms handcuffed behind him and his legs tied roughly to a wooden chair. He rustled, pulling against the cuffs as quietly as possible, gaze still obsessively trained on your every micro-movement.

But it didn't matter: your eyes opened the moment you’d heard his breath catch and stutter, and you got up lightly, dreamily, like you were some figment of Jackson’s imagination rather than a psychopathic kidnapping assassin.

“Morning, honey,” you whispered, getting up off the floor, rubbing your eyes and yawning. But he didn’t respond, still pulling at his restraints, eyes thinned and focussed.

“Are you mad at me?” You whined with a frown, circling around his chair and playfully covering his eyes. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry. I’ll buy some cute lingerie, give you a little show… do you like lace? Or maybe leather?”

Jackson’s nostrils flared, growing irate and incredulous at your antics, and he snapped. “Do you really think you can keep me here? Make me play fucking house with you?” He shouted groggily, body still feeling the aftereffects of not one, but two, drugs.

You blinked numbly, hand finding his face, and you pressed his cheeks together, making him look up at you. “I won’t make you play house with me, Jackson. But it's the only thing you can do. You’re dead.”

Your tone had gone cold, using his real name instead of your pet-one, expression going blank and completely unfeeling at his words. Then, you fumbled for something on the wooden vanity beside you two before lifting it up to his face.

It read: TERRORIST GROUP LEADER’S REMAINS FOUND IN RED-EYE FLIGHT WRECK.

Jackson’s lips parted, feelings riddled half in shock and half in utter fury, gaze shaky as it flitted back and forth between you and the newspaper you were holding up. “I’m fucking—“

“Alive, I know. That’s kinda the point,” you finished his sentence with a chuckle, shaking your head like any of this was a joking matter. “When a plane goes down and catches fire, burning everybody, they won’t individually check who's who, honey. If there’s a name on the seat, there’s someone in it, and they’re dead… you’re as good as dead.”

Jackson’s eyebrows were still knit, but he suddenly stared straight ahead, listening to you silently and trying to make sure you were still too focussed on explaining theatrically to realize he was about to dislocate his thumb.

He could deal with the stool later — he just needed to get his arms free and escape. What with your grating voice and the fucking pronunciation of death you’d forced upon him, god, his fury was rising quickly, and he wanted nothing more right now than to fucking kill you.

You finished your explanation, peering deeply into his bright blue eyes, and you were about to wrap your arms around his neck and press him comfortingly to your chest when he successfully freed himself, and his hands shot out from behind him to strangle you.

His fingers curled around your neck extremely easily, tightening and contracting around the thing snugly. Jackson was seeing red, the anger accumulated from every little insane fucking thing you did to him bursting.

You struggled against him, your mouth opening and closing pitifully, leaning down into his grip— until your lips tilted upwards, a devilishly cheshire smile digging into your cheeks like it was an expression God never intended you to make.

Jackson only realized you’d taken his gun away from him when he felt the tip of the barrel kiss his temple, cold and clammy. He was still disoriented, and didn’t exactly comprehend all the facts ‘till they fucking punched him in the face. Or, in this case, threatened to shoot him point blank.

“L’mme - l’mme go, h’ney,” you whispered raspily, your eyes stuttering in their socket as he pressed deeper. Simultaneously, completely on instinct, you pressed the gun further into his skin.

“You’re too fucking weak to fire that gun,” he growled, digging his thumbs into the neat notch in the middle of your neck, his fingernails scratching bloody marks into your sensitive skin.

But you frowned weakly, and then Jackson heard that all familiar click, making him blanch. The strength in his hands didn’t falter, however— it got angrier, more desperate, like you wouldn’t automatically shoot him if he just translated his wrath into his grip.

“I d’nt- w’nna k-kill you,” you shook your head a bit, but both your threats remained the same: his hands making you go lightheaded, go blue, and the gun in yours making him sweat, the image of you splattering his brain against the wall clear as day.

Jackson felt your finger twitch, and he closed his eyes, grip going tense then faltering completely: if you shot him now, there was no point holding on. But you did the same— you thought he’d snap your neck right then and there, so you pulled away.

Just as quickly as you two had attacked one another, your resolves’ had crumbled, murderous intent clearing the room like someone had opened a window and let it all out. Silence filled it back up instead, a steady tension permeating with it, and it was fucking suffocating.

“What do you - want from me, exactly?” Jackson questioned first, several long moments later, words slow and collected. He’d try to calm himself and hide his anger away for later, because he now knew that you meant for him to meet only two ends here: forever with you, or forever dead— and neither were ends he was intending to have.

To escape, crawl under your nose and perhaps kill you along the way, he’d need to know the rules— play your little game. This cat and mouse mess could be done in a flash, and he fucking knew you had a weakness. He could feel it in your touch, how you gripped him, the lonely warble in your insane words.

Sure, you kidnapped him and were calling him honey, treating him like he was your plaything, but Jackson had always been good at reading people, even before he’d become an amalgamated mess of an assassin, terrorist and blackmailer: you needed someone in your life— be it a husband or a hostage.

You got down on one knee, looking up at him through your wet lashes, breathing still ragged. One of your hands took his own dislocated one, while the other fished through your silk dress pockets, pulling out a gold band ring identical to the one gleaming prettily on your left hand.

You didn’t answer his question saying for you to marry me or for you to love me— both things Jackson would expect you to say, especially with your oddly profound obsession with him (despite the fact he was positive you’d only known him for a few weeks at most.) No, you’d smiled, a lovely duchenne one, rosy-cheeked like a fucking schoolgirl confessing to her crush, not an assassin who’d kidnapped him, and said, “For you to be mine.”

Your hand curled around his dislocated thumb and quickly snapped it, cruel and rough but perfectly back in place, before you slipped the ring onto his finger shakily, and brought his hand up to your lips to press a kiss to his knuckles.

“You’re mine,” you repeated in a whisper, sounding every bit like a warning rather than a celebration.

ii.

After a few days of living with— or, more accurately, being held captive by you, Jackson thought he had you all figured out. It usually only took a few days for him and a target to become acquainted anyway; mutual acquaintance or not.

He found that the warmer he treated you, the more freedom he’d have. Like, after you slipped the ring on his finger, you undid the ropes tying his legs. A reward, you’d said, for accepting your… unity.

But you still switched out the clinky metal cuffs for zip ties. “I can’t have you doing that nifty little thumb trick anymore, can I?” you explained. “But I still want you to walk around. Take a tour of the rest of your life, honey.”

Then, you told him you had to go to work — to which Jackson rolled his eyes, considering assassination wasn’t exactly what he’d call work, though, he would also have to call himself a hypocrite — and left. Jackson wasn’t shy about roaming about the house, especially to look for a fucking escape, but he was firstly confronted with the sheer size of the place you’d locked him in.

Where he’d first waken up was the master bedroom, long and wide with a king poster bed and canopy, a pair of couples vanities side by side, two walk-in closets and one large ensuite. The rest of the house was the same, being two stories tall and terribly extensive: Jackson ran out of fingers on his hands to count how many rooms were in it.

By the time he’d combed through the entire house — discovering a measly two possible escape routes in the process — it was dark outside, and you entered through a front door Jackson couldn’t find for the fucking life of him.

It was appalling, firstly how spontaneous and carefree you were whilst simultaneously thinking of everything that could go wrong, and secondly, how up to par your skills were to his. He wasn’t one to gloat, but he knew just as well as his coworkers that he was a large step above the rest— and it seemed you were, too, the only equal he’d encountered in his line of work… and the only person who’d bested him.

“Honey, I’m home!” You sing-songed in the hallway, poking your head into each and every room for Jackson’s familiar form.

Jackson had settled back in the master bedroom, sitting on the very chair you’d untied him from that morning, and when you finally found him you cooed. “Aw, baby, you don’t hafta’ stay here all day.” You said, lifting his chin to look up at you.

Jackson grit his teeth, his temper suddenly getting the best of him, and he spat at you. But the effect didn't work nearly as well as intended: you didn’t even wince, merely blinking and bringing two fingers to your cheek and wiping the slick off. You pouted at him for a second, made your eyes real big and pitiful, before kissing him on the cheek… and shoving your spit-slicked fingers into his mouth, making him gag.

It looked like you were enjoying his suffering, before pulling away a moment later. “Well, no matter,” you said, brushing his actions off and regaining your happy mood. “I know you weren’t really here all day, honey.”

Jackson’s lips parted, eyes thinning suspiciously. “What the fuck are you—“

You suddenly pulled out your phone, showing camera angles from all throughout the house… and more startlingly, previous footage of him, scouring the house’s windows and poking through the various furniture and rooms earlier in the day. “You are quite the curious cat.”

“You have a camera?” He asked indignantly. Honestly, he should’ve expected it: it’s like, what do you get when you have a captive itching to escape and an obsessive, head-over-heels captor with plenty of money on her hands?

“Several,” you preened, “so don’t bother escaping.”

Then, you hooked your arm into his and dragged him to one of the (many, many) dining rooms.

“Now, I’ve never exactly had a hostage before,” you offered, pushing him into one of your cushy walnut dining chairs, “so I just realized you haven’t eaten. God, I’m so sorry, honey, you must be starving.”

With that, you ducked into the large kitchen a room away, and then returned holding a steaming plate of something, setting the dish down in front of him. “It’s not exactly, y’know, fine dining,” you said, picking up the spoon hidden in the food and scooping up some peas, “but it’s home-cooked. Not my home cooking, obviously, it is -- was, a target’s. I had a plate earlier, don’t worry, it’s good.”

Jackson stared at you, mind spinning with the information you were nonchalantly throwing at him: you were feeding him, your hand holding the cutlery, his mouth around it like he was fucking six, and the person who had made this food was dead, having had their throat slit or something.

But there was another thing in Jackson’s mind, a tiny, weak voice within him that told him to just shut the hell up and eat the damn food. His survival instinct, probably, but then it went on to think that you weren’t that bad, feeding him and keeping him safe from the police in this nice, grand house— and Jackson squished the voice. No fucking way in hell was he experiencing early stage stockholm syndrome.

At his reluctance, you frowned, and forced the spoonful in his mouth. “Eat,” you scolded, and fed him till the whole plate was finished.

He ate, of course, not because of the little bitch voice in his head, but because of the fact that he actually was really fucking hungry. The gesture seemed to warm your heart, for some fucked up reason, and you later sat in the livingroom with him and loosened his zipties.

There was a brief moment, however, that Jackson felt even an iota of fear: when his hands were slightly free, he immediately reached to grab you— he was taller, stronger, and could certainly defeat you in mere moments.

But your sneaky fingers tightened his restraints at the drop of a hat, your head butting his jaw so he fell back on the couch. “Try anything,” you warned, tone suddenly dark, “and I will break your fucking wrist.”

At his tentative, jaw slightly dropped, shaky nod, a cold sweat beaming down from his temple, you dissolved into a fit of laughter at his expression and undid his ties once more. This time, your hand held his in an intimate death grip, thumb curled sweetly around the wrist, that warning still ringing in his head.

He was learning how to play the game, though. His captor’s behavior. What you liked, what you didn’t. The extent of your mercy.

Jackson cleared his throat, searching for a question that might make you open up. “…What’s your name, anyway?” Yes, he didn’t even know your fucking name, and he doubted that the tacky prostitute name you’d given him initially was your real one.

You looked up at him, surprised he’d speak first, nonetheless to know more about you. So, you indulged, and told him your name, things you liked, didn’t like, your hobbies… all normal people stuff— y’know, first date stuff.

“I keep forgetting you don’t know a thing about me,” you confessed, leaning your head on his stiff figure, “‘cause I’ve known you for a very long time.”

Jackson’s breath hitched. “How so?” he said, trying not to give away his eagerness; he was going through all the steps he did when first meeting a target, like being kind and sweet, respectful and attentive, really buttering them up and coaxing information from them, before going in for the kill. In Jackson’s current case, the “kill” was a kiss.

It’d be something chaste, nervous, like he was unwittingly slipping into your trap and couldn’t help the warmth bubbling within him toward you, so you would fall into his; hook, line, and sinker… and maybe completely undo his zipties. He’d have to lay low for a few days, obviously, and build up that obsessive trust of yours, before going in for the literal kill.

But then again, Jackson, with that delirious little ego of his, kept forgetting your skills were up to par with his, and you were the first and only person to ever fucking best him.

You grinned thinly, knowing exact what he was doing, noticed the pattern his words went in, trying to shepherd the conversation to get the answers he wanted, and you pulled away from him. “I’ll tell you another day, honey. M’gonna go to bed,” you whispered sleepily, redoing his zipties. “Join me. I don’t like it when you tire yourself out.”

And so you left, and Jackson watched your hips sway, legs carrying you down the long hallway into the master bedroom. As soon as you were out of direct view, he sucked in a sharp breath, seething angrily.

Fuck, he thought, the realization of his predicament settling within in him at last. He’d always been told this: if you didn’t believe you could escape your situation within the first day, you would never escape at all. He thought it a silly mantra, because he’d always devised an escape plan after thinking on it for a few long moments.

Never did he think he’d find himself in a situation where that actually fucking applied, never did he think he’d meet his equal, and never in his entire, terrorizing existence, did he think he’d be helpless.

But Jackson had to persevere. Had to. He had not survived every terrible incident thrown at him in his tired lifetime, just to accept this. And so, he went to bed with you, the zipties rubbing his pale skin raw, and he watched the shadows on the roof shift with every hour that passed.

He did not sleep, certainly not with you by his side, and though it looked like it, you did not either. It was the paranoia of two terribly similar people; gaze dancing in the dark and never finding each others, waiting for the moment one of you snapped and you had to attack or defend.

The next day, and the next day after that, he went to bed beside you. Just like that, turned into weeks turned into months turned into seasons changing, and the zipties became cloth became your hand holding his.

It was a culmination of feigned loving, fake vulnerability, and pretending he’d gotten Stockholm syndrome that got him to this point. Every “honey, i’m home,” or kiss or hug or pet-name you stabbed into him, he returned with a “welcome home, honey”, a peck on the cheek, a hand holding yours, his venomous tone switched like a light into something sweet, soft.

One night, with his newly ziptie-free arms wrapping around you, your back nestling sweetly against his torso, he has to remind himself that it is not real. None of it was real: he was not your husband, you were not his wife, you did not love each other, you were not normal fucking people— you were the captive and the captor.

Jackson had to remind himself he didn’t actually love you, because that night he thought: if you used him, he would use you. He would take you whenever he wanted, like how you used him. A man has needs, he thought, and being trapped in this house with you meant those needs could be met.

It reminded him of when you first met— not the kidnapping part, of course, but of the kissing and the touching, your tits pressing softly against his chest, his hands following the swell of your ass.

With a start, he realized he’d had some kind of unintentional celibacy enacted upon him: he couldn’t fuck anyone other than you, obviously, having been trapped in that house, but he never entertained the idea of fucking you because he hated you. You don’t fuck the bitch you’re planning to kill any day now.

But your warm body against his awoke something in him, his forced celibacy unable to survive against the pure lust he felt filling him now. You were beautiful, undeniably, with pliant thighs and delicate curves he could see himself getting between animalistically, roughly, a kind of morbid sexual revenge against your captivity of him. It helped entirely that this was the most vulnerable he’d seen you, completely without any weapons, curled warmly into his side.

After studying your breathing for a few seconds, ensuring you were still asleep, Jackson carefully slipped away from you to kneel in front of you in the middle of the bed. He admired your night getup: those silk dresses you adored to wear at home, and absolutely no underwear.

He then pried your soft thighs open slightly, dipping his head between them and losing himself in the sweet scent of your cunt, before chancing a stripe up to your clit. He flattened his tongue, wanting to collect your taste on it completely, and you merely sighed, turning over slightly and widening your legs in your sleep, like you somehow knew what he was doing and wanted it.

He pressed his mouth up to your cunt fully now, his nose hitting your mound as he devoured you, tongue filling every crevice and fold you had like he was starving. Your small whimpers and breathy sighs grew louder now, more frequent, and then Jackson suddenly pulled away, satisfied with how he readied your hole.

Jackson shimmed himself out of his boxer shorts, a pair with silly little hearts he’d never seriously buy for himself— you bought them, as soon as you’d captured him, clearly having fun with the utter control you could display on him, down to his fucking undergarments.

He shook himself slightly, refocussing on the matter at hand: fucking into your glistening cunt. There was something oddly empowering about doing this to you when you couldn’t protest, regaining some control over his own fucking life by terrorizing yours.

But he wasn’t sure you’d fucking care anyway: he knew you liked to peek around the corner when he was showering, “accidentally” walking in when he was in the middle of changing, not-so subtly bending down and pressing your ass to his crotch.

He sighed slightly, rubbing his hand up and down on his hard length in the dark, before lining it up with your entrance. Jackson muffled the groan that curdled in his throat with his large hand, breathing shakily and finally pushing past your slick folds. You were soaking, and he didn’t know if it was because of his previous foreplay or if you were just naturally like this, all horny because he slept beside you at night. He wouldn’t put it past you if that was the case: your obsession with him was clear in every single way.

You made a noise in your sleep, and Jackson froze, hands instinctively coming up to press lightly against your throat — an unconscious thing on his part, formed when his hands had been zip tied and the only thing he could do was choke you, unable to grip any weapon properly. But you didn’t wake up; your face merely screwed together, before smoothing out and returning to blissful unconsciousness.

Jackson let out a sigh of pleasure and relief, your walls clenching around his pulsing cock. He gripped the sheets beside your head and began thrusting in and out of you: at first gently, afraid to wake you up, but as the minutes dripped past, Jackson grew desperate, fucking into your cunt roughly. He wanted to abuse your tight little pussy, stretch you wide open and take you for everything you had.

“Fuck,” he grunted under his breath, snapping his hips harder against yours, “Fuck!”

His exclamation of sexual satisfaction startled you awake, but he didn’t notice how your eyes moved behind your eyelids, too focussed on pounding his rock-hard cock into you. For all the insanity and behavioral issues God gave you, he certainly made up for it in the way he crafted your cunt: extremely warm and easily wet, a sticky hole that sucked him in but was still cramped, like it was begging him to force your walls open.

“Honey?” you murmured foggily, wrapping your arms around his neck. You were about to speak again, when Jackson suddenly found your g-spot, and rammed continually into it, making a filthy mewl leave your lips.

“Fuck, you woke up?” Jackson cursed, looking at you for the first time. His thrusts were unrelenting, though, now not caring if you’d woken up and just wanting to feel your hole squeeze around him again.

“Jackson, I was - sleeping,” you squeaked out, hands moving to his back and digging your nails into the skin.

“That’s kinda the point,” Jackson mocked, tone sarcastic and peeved like you were interrupting him. “And don’t fucking fight it,” he warned angrily, hand leaving the mattress and roughly squeezing one of your tits through the fabric of your nightdress, “‘cause I’m not stopping ‘till I come.”

You pouted fake-sadly at his words, but your back arching gave you away, keening when he kneaded your tit too meanly and made a shock of pain run up your body. “Feels so good,” you grinned sweatily, but he just rolled his eyes.

“Shut up,” he sighed, throwing his head back, “didn’t fucking ask what you thought.”

He pushed your face to the side so he was looking at your jaw, more content with treating you like just some hole, but you didn’t care: he, your darling, was fucking you. He wanted you so bad he fucked you when you weren’t even awake. God, you could’ve kissed him right then and there, but he probably would’ve hit you. (Not that you would mind… but you wanted your honey to take control, have it his way for a bit.)

Jackson rutted into you fast and selfish, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the violent way he fucked you: your sick pleasure came at the expense of your weeping cunt, which was trembling in the stinging pain he was inflicting, cockhead stretching you wide.

Then, Jackson’s hands slid down to your hips, so he could shove his cock deeper into your cunt, pressing his weight so heavily onto your chest you could barely breathe. He groaned; you were clearly affected by the action, bearing down on his cock suddenly, and he reveled in the ecstacy.

He fucked you slightly and slower, and you only realized what he’d been doing when he leaned down to get a better angle, bullying the head of his cock against your cervix: he was trying to fuck into you further, push his dick so close, so snug against your womb that there was no doubt in hell his load would impregnate you. His actions were dictated not by any sense of reason, but by a crude, carnal desire, wanting nothing more but to make you scream.

And you did scream alright, a breathy, brutal scream; a mix of whimpering pain at the way his head pushed against you, and of shameful, drooling pleasure, his delicious length making you feel fucking bloated, you were so full.

One of Jackson’s hands reached up to your head to pull your hair, making you whine at the pain of the tug, and he growled out a string of curse words, before thrusting his cock so angrily it was like a punishment, surely bruising your cervix, and releasing his thick load deep inside. His come flooded your cunt, pumping you full of his salty cream, fucking you still.

Jackson then panted raggedly, feeling your gummy walls tense at the pain of him pulling out, flopping down beside you. “Does it hurt?” he asked you absently, pulling his boxer shorts back up to his hips.

You bit your lip as you clenched your thighs together, whining slightly at the pain blooming deep within your abused cunt, and at the loss of pleasure— you hadn’t come after all, Jackson being entirely selfish in his fucking. “Uh-huh,” you murmured weakly, feeling the strength in your body leave you completely. “You’re a mean one, honey.”

“Good,” Jackson said, chuckling darkly. It was the first laugh you’d heard rumble out of him the entire time you’d held him captive, and you drank it in: it was pleasant and breezy, like cold water on a hot day. It was certainly out of place, such a gleeful laugh after savagely fucking you, but you welcomed it anyway.

Jackson suddenly grabbed you by the waist, pulling you flush to his chest. “M’gonna use your hole whenever I want, and you’re gonna take my cock no matter what, ‘till you’re begging me to stop,” he growled in your ear, making goosebumps break out on your clammy skin. “Least you can do for fuckin’ kidnapping me, you psychotic bitch.”

“Oh,” you purred, batting your lashes up at him, “it’d be my pleasure to be your fucktoy.”

Jackson grinned, at you, for you, and you thought to yourself that kidnapping him was the best thing you ever fucking did.

iii.

Somewhere, muddled between you kidnapping him, the two of you almost killing eachother, and him fucking you dumb, Jackson caved, and he started to believe he actually loved you. His mind didn’t have any qualms accepting that you were his new life— living in your house, only knowing you, and only ever talking to you.

Maybe it was stockholm syndrome, or those delicious fantasies you’d whisper in his ear at night (“Y’know, honey, it’s really you who should be saying you’re home. What do you think, huh? You coming home from a long day of work to me, in my panties and an apron, no bra and a sweet, home-cooked meal on the table. Dessert’ll be, of course, me,”) or maybe it was just you.

You, despite your terrible job and seriously obvious insanity, being the epitome of fuckable: horny when he was, a talented, needy mouth, able to take anything he gave you to while always going back to being tight as fuck, and intensely eager to have him.

You, who controlled his life, and he, who controlled you. The way you treated each other was probably illegal somewhere, but in that house not even the fucking law mattered. (You still remember when Jackson got his gun back, and he teased your clit with the cold tip till you creamed down the barrel… a terribly memorable story that always made you groan.)

Jackson was extremely well aware that there was something strange about your relationship, and not just the fact it occurred in the strangest way possible, but that he was essentially giving up to you— losing his inhibitions, at least against you. Something about… putting his well being in your hands. His needs. His wants. His life. Spending the rest of his life with you; in this house, accepting life and no escape.

But still, for a man like Jackson, who had long since accepted that he wasn’t cut out for a life of normalcy, a life of love, this certainly wasn’t a bad way of living. He had a house nicer than anything he’d ever lived in, didn’t have to work, could do whatever he wanted all day, and got to pound his cock into your perfect little pussy every single night.

#wowee this has a lot of words and a lot of warnings #this is filthy i apologize #cillian murphy smut #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner x reader smut #red eye #jackson rippner

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lemonlover1110 · 1 year

Text

𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒

Aki Hayakawa

Pairing: Aki Hayakawa x f!Reader

Summary: The man who revises your paper is straight out of your sex dream. You'll let him do almost anything for him- Except smoke inside your room when he so desperately needs it. But he finds an alternative for his cigarette. And afterwards he can't stop thinking about you.

Warnings: MDNI, Alternate Universe, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex (m. and f. receiving), Spitting, Public Sex, Creampie, Aki has tattoos and is hot (as always)

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Okay… The essay is good, it just needs a few changes.” Aki says, leaning down as he reads the paper in his hand. He’s focused on helping you, and you’re focused on him. Arms and neck filled with tattoos. Both ears pierced. Hair up in a knot. You’ve never seen him around, if you had, you would’ve remembered. And now you’re wondering how you’ve never seen him before. You’re too focused on his face and not at the fact that he’s pointing at the pen in your hand. You’re brought back to reality when he clears his throat, “May I?”

“Oh, yes. Sorry.” You awkwardly chuckle, giving him your pen. He begins to circle and underline the areas that you need to work on, and you feel your cheeks get warm. You’re embarrassed but you don’t know if it’s because he caught you staring mindlessly at him, or the fact that your paper has so many mistakes.

Your roommate, Himeno, suggested that you go to the library so they could check your paper. You find yourself understanding the content, but when it comes to writing an essay in any class, you always get a mediocre grade. Himeno said that one of her friends is helping out, you never asked who it was, and you obviously didn’t bother looking for them. You saw Aki available and went up to him immediately. He luckily could help with the subject you needed help in.

“You have all the right ideas, they’re just disorganized.” He adds, which you don’t know if it makes you feel better or worse about yourself. You know the material, you just don’t know how to properly word it. He takes a seat beside you, all his attention on the paper. Your eyes shift from his focused face to the paper in his hands. He’s nitpicking any minor mistake in your writing. It almost hurts your feelings, even though you know he’s trying to help you.

You came here because you needed help, and he’s giving it to you. Although your mind wanders off, as you watch him move his lips. He’s explaining what you need to fix so your paper receives an adequate grade, yet your brain doesn’t comprehend anything. You’re nodding, acting as if you’re understanding a word he says. Your eyes are staring at the peek of the dragon tattoo that he has on his neck, and you notice that it starts on his arm. Although he has many other tattoos on his arms

“Do you understand?” He asks, which brings you back to reality. You try to smile, trying to hide the fact that you don’t understand and that you were zoning out because he is, in fact, fucking hot.

“I do, thank you, Hayakawa.” You end up responding. He gives you your paper back, and you stuff it back in your bag before standing up.

When you’re back in your apartment, you lock yourself in your room to finish up homework for other classes. You’re thinking of the man that helped you with the best of his ability, while fixing up the essay. You type away on your computer, making the near perfect essay. You come to a stop on the third paragraph to look back at the paper and reread the suggestion he made.

His handwriting looks neat yet sloppy at the same time, and the way certain letters are written makes you chuckle because who writes them like that? You like his handwriting though. Way better than the majority of guys.

You focus back on your computer to type out the rest of your essay, but instead of typing more, you open a new tab. And instead of searching up resources to help with your writing, you type in Aki Hayakawa and look to find any social media he has. You find his Instagram and click on it, only to find out it’s private. You squint your eyes to look at the profile picture, but his face is covered by a camera. He seems to be into photography, at least that’s what you can tell from the picture.

He probably has an alternate account for his photos, but you’re really not in the mood to look at pictures of flowers or random insects/animals that you can find in your backyard. You go back to the previous page and also find a Twitter account. A smirk comes onto your lips as you think at what you can possibly find on that page.

You click on his Twitter and immediately go to the media. You don’t really care too much to read about his thoughts; you don’t want to lose interest because of one unfunny tweet. You grin when you find his face in many pictures, as well as some other photographs that you don’t really care about too much. You come across one particular picture that makes you stop scrolling completely.

It’s him and your roommate. Himeno’s arms wrapped around him as she smiles at the camera. Aki smiles as well, not as bright as Himeno though. You realize that Aki is the friend that Himeno was telling you about. You sigh as you click out of the picture. You remember her saying,

“He’s so hot, God, I’d do almost anything to be with him.”

You close the tab and go back to your essay, and when you're completely concentrated on the task in front of you, there’s a knock on your door. You puff out a breath before you stand up from your chair and walk to your door. You open the door to find your roommate with a bright smile on her face, a beer in her hand.

“My friend is coming over, come join us.” She suggests. You’re about to shake your head since you don’t have too much time to finish your essay but then it hits you,

“Is this your same friend that tutors?” You ask, and she hums in response. She doesn’t know that you know him since you never asked for his name. Before she could tell you anything about him, you left.

“I promise he’s fun! Well… After a couple of drinks. He acts mature and all that but he loosens up.” She tells you. You don’t understand why she’s insistent, but you end up nodding slowly.

“Alright, I’ll join you.” You answer.

“Yay! He’ll be here in a few minutes. Let me get changed.” She responds before walking away, and you decide to do the same. But you decide you’ll wear something different. Maybe something that shows a bit more skin, but not too much. You don’t want Himeno to notice and come to the conclusion you’re trying to impress her friend. You are, but you don’t want her to notice.

Right when you finish changing, there’s a knock on the front door. You walk out of the room and go to the front door, since Himeno is apparently still changing. You open the door, and just as you expected, there’s Aki.

“Oh, hey.” He greets you and says your name. He raises a brow before asking, “Is Himeno your roommate?”

“Yeah. She’s in her room, she’ll come out soon enough.” You inform him and he nods in response. You move out of the way so he can enter the apartment, and when he does, he walks to the couch. He takes a seat and makes himself comfortable. “Would you like a beer?”

“It’s fine. I can get it.” Aki answers and you go to the couch to sit down as well. You put some distance between the two of you so you don’t make him uncomfortable. This awkward silence fills up the room until Himeno walks back and joins you.

She changed. She changed from a black tank top and sweatpants to a tight white tank top and shorts. You really aren’t surprised. She smiles at Aki, greeting him with a melodious, “Hey~”

You can tell she’s had one too many beers already. She seemed fine when she knocked on your door, but you obviously misjudged her. She takes a seat between the two of you, closer to Aki. Way closer. So much so that she’s almost invading his personal space. Aki isn’t sure what to do with his personal space being invaded, so he tries to scoot away, but he can’t since he’s at the end of the couch.

“Don’t you want to start watching that movie?” Aki asks, hoping that it’ll make Himeno stand up, and give him the chance to reclaim the room that was taken from him. When you hear the word “movie” one thing comes to mind, and it’s nothing pure. You’re not even sure if Himeno meant to invite you– Unless Aki was the one who suggested that they’d watch a “movie”.

“Why don’t you go grab a drink first?” Himeno suggests, the alcohol in her breath blowing into Aki’s face. Her arms wrap around him, and he’s trying his best to distance himself. This is why he tries not to come around at night. She has one too many drinks and gets touchy.

“I actually have to finish some assignments.” You say, standing up from the couch and beginning to walk to your room. You hear a groan from Himeno, but she doesn’t say anything to stop you. Now that Aki is here, she’s changed her mind about having you join them, so she isn’t exactly too mad about the fact that you’ll choose to lock yourself up in your room.

“Uh… Actually, I think I should go with her. I explained everything to her but she seemed to be needing some more help.” Aki tells Himeno, making her let go. He’s clearly uncomfortable, but he doesn’t have the courage to voice it. It makes the woman pout and cross her arms, and Aki says, “Go drink some water and look for a movie you want to watch. I’ll make it quick.”

He follows you to your room, uninvited, and neither of you know what to say when he closes the door behind you. You take a seat at your desk and decide to focus on your homework while he waits it out.

“Sorry…” He begins, and you hum in response. You don’t care all that much about it. He stands around awkwardly, not wanting to take a seat on your bed without asking. “I didn’t expect her to be already tipsy, and she tends to be touchy.”

“Oh yeah, I get that.” You respond. “You can sit down.”

“Okay…” He responds, but instead of actually taking a seat, he walks over to you to check what’s on your computer. He finds the paper that he revised on your desk as well, so he knows you’re still working on the paper he helped you with at the library. “Do you need me to revise that again?”

“I think it’s fine.” You answer. You don’t have all that much energy left to check the paper another time and make more revisions before turning it in. You end up turning off your laptop, deciding to take advantage of the moment. You might never have him in your room again, so you might as well talk to him. “When are you going back?”

“In a few minutes. When she’s had some water and time to be more level-headed.” He replies. He takes a seat on your bed and pulls out his phone. “If not, I’ll just leave.”

“I definitely don’t think that she’ll grab water like you suggested.” You tell him as you stand up and sit down on the bed. He still wants to wait a couple minutes before deciding to leave. “How did you two meet, anyway?”

“Hmm… I think it was around campus or something. She came up to me and we hit it off.” Aki recalls, although he can’t remember it all too well. “She’s three years older than me– I think.”

“Yeah… She’s taken a while to get her degree. But hopefully next year she’ll make it!” You share, and he nods in response. You aren’t sure what you two can talk about other than Himeno, until you look at his arms, “You have a lot of tattoos. That’s cool.”

“You think so?” He responds, and you nod in response. “Himeno was actually the one who pushed me to get a tattoo. It was a small one on my thigh but then I just couldn’t stop getting more and more.”

“I’ve been thinking of getting one myself, which one was the least painful for you?” You ask, and he takes a moment to think about it. He has so many…

“Forearm is not so bad, also outer thigh is okay.” He informs you. “Neck was very painful, don’t do that. “Butt is okay. At least from what I’ve heard.”

“From what you heard?” You chuckle, and he ends up laughing as well. “Are you sure you don’t have a tattoo on your butt?”

“Maybe once upon a time I went out to drink with Himeno and we got too drunk…” He explains. You begin to wonder for how long exactly they’ve known each other. He shares a couple more things with you– How his ears piercings was also something Himeno forced him to do, that he’s lucky she didn’t force him to pierce his nose and also get a lip ring. They’ve known each other for around four years. Aki is graduating this term, and works part time as a barista. He tells you so much about himself.

There’s a knock on the door, interrupting the conversation that you and Aki withhold. Himeno’s speech is slightly slurred as she says, “Aki, how much time– Do you have left? Is her paper not ready?”

“Oh she’s definitely opened a few more cans of beer.” You comment, and Aki hums, a bit disappointed.

“I need a fucking cigarette.” He rolls his eyes. “What options do I have?”

“Sneak out the window– Which I don’t recommend since this is a second floor. Or wait till she passes out and leave. Unless you want to make up an emergency.” You tell him and he subconsciously begins to bounce his leg, looking around the place to decide what he wants to do.

“Can I smoke in here?” He asks and you shake your head. As much as you’d want to let him do anything he wants, the last thing you need is your bedroom smelling like cigarettes. You’ve forced Himeno to smoke outside, even when it’s pouring out

“Sorry, I don’t really want my bedroom to stink.”

“What? Do I stink?” He questions. He’s never associated his addiction with a horrible smell. Sure, smoking outside is the formality so not everyone is clouded with the smoke. Maybe it has a strong smell– Well, it definitely reeks but he fucking needs to smoke.

“You don’t stink, but if you pull out a cigarette in my room then you will. And I will too.” You explain and he still sighs. He lays his back on the bed and stares at the ceiling for a second.

“Will you suck me off?” He asks out of nowhere, and you feel the heat going to your cheeks as he says that. “I need something that’ll distract me from smoking, and that’ll certainly do the trick.”

“You know, Himeno would be willing to give you a hand if you asked.” You say, your hand going to his belt. Does he need a cigarette so badly or does he just want a blowjob? You don’t care to ask as your lips go down to peck his lips. When you pull away, he says,

“I don’t want Himeno.” He responds. “She’s a nice friend but that’s all she’ll be.”

“Hmm…? Didn’t we just meet? You’re already talking about us being more than friends?” You begin as you unbutton his pants and pull them down. Your hand goes into his boxers and begin to feel his length, which is certainly impressive. Although you aren’t too surprised. “Will this actually help you?”

“I suggested it for a reason.” He responds, and you pull down his boxers. You run your thumb over his tip, spreading the pre-cum on his cock. You lower your head, your tongue circling around his tip. You met a couple hours ago, and here you are, starting a blowjob. This wouldn’t be your first one night stand though. You’ve fucked guys that you’ve known for a shorter time.

You lower your head completely, wrapping your mouth completely around his cock. You take in as much as you can, and you can hear him softly moan as you bob your head. Your hands stroke the parts of his cock that can’t fit in your mouth, while your other hand cups his balls.

“Fuck– That’s good.” He can’t help but moan as he feels your mouth wrapped around his dick. Maybe he was thinking of a similar scene in the library while looking over your paper. And now he feels your tongue gliding on his shaft.

You take his cock out of your mouth, your hand stroking his cock while your mouth goes down to suck on his balls. He shuts his eyes and bites his bottom lip as he feels your mouth. God, he has to remember that Himeno is right outside so he can’t let her hear what’s going on inside your room. That he isn’t in fact helping you with your assignment.

Your tongue licks from the base of his cock back to the tip. Your mouth wraps around his cock again, doing the same thing as before. While it feels great for Aki, he still says, “Baby, can you take it all in your mouth? It’ll be so good”

The pet name “baby” makes your panties wet. All the heat immediately goes to your cunt, but you focus on Aki and making him come. Using your mouth for his pleasure.

You feel his hand on the back of your head, and he begins to push your head down on his cock. You begin to gag on his cock, and the sound is better than any melody for him. And the best part of all is that it feels so good for him. Even better than before. He could come at any moment.

Too engrossed in what you’re doing, any noise from outside is canceled out by Aki’s moans and your gagging. Until the door strikes open, and a drunk Himeno walks into the room, looking for Aki. You raise your head, taking his cock out of your mouth. You’re wide-eyed while the man can’t help but be annoyed by the fact that he was so close to finishing, and he was interrupted.

Himeno is trying to process the scene in front of her, asking, “What’s going on here?”

“A- Aki needed a cigarette.” You stutter.

“She won’t remember any of this in the morning. There’s no need for an explanation.” Aki assures you. He pulls his boxers back up and begins to fix himself. “I have to go. I’m gonna smoke a cigarette.”

Just as Aki said, Himeno remembered nothing the next morning. Yet, you decided that you’ll keep your distance because Himeno clearly likes him, and getting with him is sort of a betrayal to her. It’s easy to avoid him, mainly because you’ve never bumped into him before. You avoid the library, and he doesn’t come over to hang out with Himeno often.

Nearly a month after everything, you find yourself back in the library, ready to check another paper. The paper Aki checked got a near perfect score, and while you’re trying to avoid him, you value your grades more than anything. Your eyes meet when you step into the place.

You’ll look for someone else because you doubt either of you will feel too comfortable around each other, especially after a month of not talking. Or maybe that’s just you because Aki begins to walk towards you.

“Hey.” He says when he’s in front of you. You smile at him, avoiding eye contact. “Do you need help on another paper?”

“Uh… Yeah.” You nod, looking around to find another person that’s not Aki, to check the paper you need help with.

“I can check it for you.” He states, noticing that you’re looking for someone else. He left someone on their own to come up to you. He hopes at the very least you’ll take his help so he doesn’t look like a jerk.

“Sure… But aren’t you busy?” You question and he shakes his head. You noticed he was with someone else, but he decided to walk up to you. “I don’t want to–”

“It’s fine, they were just leaving.” He responds, and you end up sighing. He furrows his brows at your reaction and just when he’s about to ask what’s wrong, you end up saying,

“You know Himeno likes you, so I think it’s best if we–” You begin but he cuts you off.

“I’m helping you with your essay, I’m sure Himeno won’t get mad with that.” Aki answers, and you end up sighing again. He’s not wrong, but the reason you don't want his help is because you aren’t sure if you’ll behave around each other.

You end up going with him to take a seat. You pull out the paper and hand it to him so he can look it over. And he takes it as he takes a seat beside you. Unlike the first time, you don’t gawk at him. You stare elsewhere, somewhere that he isn’t in your vision.

You feel him pat your thigh, and the heat goes to your cheeks immediately. “Do you have a pen?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” You respond, reaching into your bag to pull out a pen. You give it to him, and once again stare off into space, until his hand goes back to your thigh. But this time he isn’t patting to ask you for something. He takes advantage of the fact that you’re wearing a skirt.

He caresses your thigh, all while his focus is on the paper in front of him. You don’t understand how he suddenly got so comfortable with you to do this, but at the same time you really don’t care that much. Except when his hand goes to your clothed cunt and he rubs lazy circles on your panties. No one will notice or know, yet you’re still freaking out. But you won’t push his hand away either.

“Same mistakes as the first time.” He comments, pushing your panties to the side. Two fingers run through your folds as he circles and underlines what needs to be fixed. He mutters, “You’re so wet, and I haven’t done anything.”

“Huh?” You question, your face burning up, the same heat that’s in between your legs. Yet one is of embarrassment and the other of arousal.

“I said, last time clearly didn’t do anything. You made very similar mistakes.” He begins to circle your clit. You didn’t really expect a stunt like this from him of all people. But then again, you don’t know him well. You’ve stalked his social media after giving him a blowjob, but that’s about it.

You wait for him to push two fingers in, but at the same time you’re not desperate for it because his fingers’ speed against your clit is just right. He moves his fingers perfectly. You bite your bottom lip, preventing a whimper from leaving your lips.

“Does it feel good, gorgeous?” He asks, glancing at you before his eyes go back to the paper in front of him. “Wouldn’t it feel good if I slipped a finger in? You’d have to ask me in a pretty little voice.”

“Please.” You whisper. You’re scared of being too loud and being heard, although half the library is empty.

“Can you be a tad bit louder? I can’t make out what you’re saying.” He says, and you end up shaking your head. The library is so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, and you’re scared that if you raise your voice just a bit more, that people will turn to see. The place isn’t too crowded. Just a couple of people cramming in for exams.

His fingers press against your entrance, but he doesn’t slip a finger in. He fixes your panties and stands up, “I need a cig. Check over what I wrote. I’ll be back in a second.”

You watch as he walks away, and you stuff your paper back in your bag. You stand up and begin to walk to the shelves. You begin to look for a book that you’ve been researching for a term paper. Instead of asking the librarian for help, you go to the very back of the place, looking for the book.

You waste around ten minutes, before you spot it. Your arm goes out to grab it, but before your hand gets to it, someone else grabs it. You notice the tattoos on his hand and immediately figure out who it is. You turn around to look at him, and he’s so close that you’re pushed against the shelves.

“I thought I told you to make revisions and here you are…” He sounds a bit annoyed as he says this. His lips go down and he pecks your lips before he kneels down in front of you. He lifts up your skirt, and you press your thighs together.

“Right here?” You ask, tilting to the side for a moment to see if you find anybody. When you don’t, you stop squeezing your thighs. He pushes your panties to the side, once again, and forces you to spread your legs.

“You should really be checking your paper…” He tells you before his tongue licks up your cunt. He really couldn’t care less about your paper. He can say he was upset when he stepped back into the library and you weren’t there, waiting for him. He was going to tease you a bit more. But now he’s glad that you decided to come here because you taste great on his tongue.

He spits on your cunt before his lips attach around your clit. You throw your head back, making a couple of books fall over. The sound would sure catch a couple of people’s attention, but they’re all too focused on their own thing to care. You put a hand over your mouth to muffle any sounds from escaping your lips.

Books knocking over aren't alarming, the sound of moaning sure is.

He detaches himself from your clit and licks down your folds to the entrance of your cunt. He teases it before he inserts his tongue inside of you, which makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. He moves it in and out of your cunt while his fingers begin to play with your clit.

“Fuck, that’s so good.” You whisper, your hips bucking. He’s looking up at you, watching your face as you try to contain your pleasure. He really wishes he could hear it, but he sure picked the wrong place to do this. Either way you wouldn’t make a sound in your apartment either because of your roommate.

You shut your eyes, feeling your climax get closer and closer. He takes his tongue out of your cunt and begins to flick your clit. The sweetest “Aki” leaves your lips while your thighs begin to squeeze around him. He swears this is heaven, and you’re the sweetest angel.

You keep your thighs squeezed around him while your orgasm takes over you. You hear Aki humming, loving the way you taste around him. A moan escapes your lips, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you come.

Aki continues flicking your clit for a couple more seconds, watching the beautiful face that you make as you orgasm. When a sigh escapes your lips when you come down from your high, he kisses your clit and gets off the ground. He grabs the back of your head and pulls your face in for a kiss. His tongue enters your mouth, pressing against your own. His tongue glides over yours while your hands go to the bulge that’s in his pants.

When he pulls away, a string of saliva connects your lips. You stare into his lust-filled eyes, and you watch him bite down his bottom lip as you feel the bulge in his pants. His thumb pushes down your bottom lip before he orders, “Open your mouth.”

You do as he says and he spits in your mouth. You swallow as your hands unbutton his pants. Your hands go inside his boxers and you begin to stroke his length. He says, “You want me to fuck you here, baby?”

“Hmm…” You hum in response. You pull down his pants, “You already ate me out, we might as well go all the way.”

“You’re right. I’ve been daydreaming about your cunt wrapped around my dick.” He says, stroking his cock a couple of times before he runs the tip through your folds, getting his cock wet with your slick. “And the craziest thing is that this is the third time we meet.”

“It’s the effect I have on people.” You chuckle, before he slowly pushes his cock inside of you. You whimper, feeling as his thick cock stretches you out. You both shut your eyes, taking everything in. He’s even bigger when he’s inside of you, at least that’s how he feels.

“Your pussy feels so good.” He whispers. Your cunt feels just like he imagined– No, even better. So nice and tight. The night he needed a cigarette, he shouldn’t have asked for a blowjob, instead he should’ve straight up asked you to fuck him. He actually would’ve finished.

When he bottoms out, he waits a moment, letting you adjust to his size. He begins to move slowly, looking at your face as you try your best to contain yourself. His bottom lip is between his teeth as he fucks you. One hand goes to the shelf behind you, causing a couple more books to tumble over.

You’re beginning to moan, and as much as he loves the sound, he can’t risk getting caught. One hand covers your mouth while his lips go to your ear, “You want us to get caught, naughty girl? You want everyone to come see you get caught?”

God, he just feels so good inside of you, it’s hard for you to keep it all in. His cock hits all the right spots. You could come alone with the way he moves in and out of you. Yet your hand still moves down to your clit to play with it.

Aki understands the way you feel because he’s trying his best to contain himself as well– In more ways than one, because he could come at any moment. He stops covering your mouth and his lips land on yours again.

He feels your cunt clench around him, and he moans in your mouth. When he pulls away, his lips go to your ears again, “Love your tight little pussy. I could die in it, and I’d die a happy man.”

His cock picks up speed with every thrust. His hand is back on your mouth, muffling the sounds that get louder and louder with every thrust. You reach your climax, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your legs spasm.

“So fucking good. I need to come inside your pussy.” He mutters. After a few more thrusts, you feel as his warm cum fills up your cunt. He keeps his cock inside you for a minute. He takes it out and fixes your panties. He pecks your lips one more time, as he fixes himself up.

“Go fix your paper, and if I like it enough, I’ll give you another reward.”

🏷 @witchofoe @cactustattoo @dearsunaa @mykyoon @tojidilfs @b3ast1706 @crispmarshmallow @matchabluebeiry-for-nanami @nobody289x @nothisispatrick300 @tojianddabisslut @katsuwhore @septembersums @thisbicc @rumi-rants @chloee0x0 @dakumarauder @lovemarvel16 @lilithlunas @sarcasticallydrowning

#chainsaw man #chainsaw man x reader #csm x reader #csm aki #aki hayakawa #hayakawa aki #aki smut #aki hayawaka #hayakawa x reader #hayakawa smut #aki x you #aki x reader #hayakawa aki x reader #csm smut #longest piece i’ve written in a while ngl

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dingusfreakhxrrington · 1 year

Text

A Test Of Faith

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: to test the BAU, a bold unsub abducts one of their members and sends the team on a wild goose chase. with reckless decisions and personal feelings taking hold, will the team be able to save one of their own or will their faith in each other come crumbling down?

warnings: mentions of kidnapping, mentions of drugs, canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of death, mentions of injury, angst, 3rd person, slight fluff, minor cursing

word count: 7k

a/n: this isn’t proofread so i’m sorry for any mistakes!

part two (coming soon)

read on ao3

friendly reminder that comments and reblogs are just as (if not more than) important as likes!

“Hey, has anyone seen y/n this morning?” Reid asked with a frown as he entered the bullpen, hanging his bag over the back of his chair.

“She’s not here yet, why?”

His face only scrunched up further at Morgan’s words. He knew it was unusual for her to be late to work, let alone skip out on plans at the last minute. “It’s just, we were supposed to get coffee this morning but she didn’t show.”

Morgan shrugged. “Maybe she overslept?”

“Maybe…”

He wanted to believe it because the alternative, which had already begun to play on his mind, was much worse. Still, he couldn’t ignore the feeling that was starting to settle into the bottom of his stomach. That uneasy feeling which had taken hold before he’d even left the coffee shop where they were supposed to meet.

Something was wrong. He knew that even before the box arrived.

It was delivered by courier directly to the office. The only indicator of who it was for was in thick, red marker across the top of the box which spelt out nothing but ‘BAU’. The handwriting was neat but unnecessarily large.

Morgan held the box, inspecting it as Reid and Prentiss peered over his shoulders.

“What is it?” Emily questioned, waiting for Morgan to open the package.

“Nothing good.” All eyes turned to their superior as he approached, holding up a letter written in the same red ink that decorated the box.

Hotchner passed the note to Prentiss, allowing her to read it to the rest of the team. “‘For Agent Hotchner at the BAU. A package will arrive not long after you read this, I suggest you gather your team and prepare for the game’?”

“Game? What game?”

Reid furrowed his brows at Morgan’s question, already trying to piece together what was going on. “You don’t think this has anything to do with why y/n is late, do you?”

“I don’t know, but what I do know is that we’re going to need the whole team on this. Reid, try to get in contact with y/n and find out where she is. Prentiss, gather the others. I want everyone in the briefing room within the next five minutes.”

Just like that, the group dispersed and, within minutes, they assembled again for the briefing.

“Still no y/n?”

Reid shook his head as he pushed his phone back into his pocket. “She isn’t answering her phone.”

“No matter, we’ll have to catch her up when she gets here. We can’t waste any more time, we need to know what’s inside the box,” Hotch sighed and signalled for Morgan to finally open it up.

The team watched on anxiously, worried about the contents of the package they’d received. More often than not, packages with notes such as the one they’d received were a little more than unpleasant.

The one thing that gave them hope, was the fact that no blood seemed to be staining the cardboard from the inside. Although that didn’t mean there wasn’t a victim’s body part inside

“A CD?” Morgan frowned when he revealed its contents, only growing more curious as he checked both the front and back of the case.

It was Electra Heart by Marina and the Diamonds, not that anyone thought that detail was of any particular importance.

“Could just be a case the unsub is using to protect the disc. It’s most likely a video,” JJ gave her input as she reached out for the disc before moving to play it on the screen.

The room was silent as she prepared the video, nervous to find out what was on it.

Would it be a video of the unsub? Perhaps a video of them committing a crime? Murder? Torture? Assault? Something else altogether? Or had it really just been a prank? Was it really just an album?

“Oh god-” Garcia gasped, hands moving to cover her mouth the moment the video began to play, tears already pricking in the corner of her startled eyes.

That uneasy feeling in Reid’s gut only grew stronger, twisting and turning until it became all that consumed him. It had never been this bad before, not even when he himself was the one in danger. He was terrified.

Terrified for her.

There she was. Y/n, the agent who had not been late to work but abducted by their unsub. Taken in the dead of night to become a pawn in his sick game.

She was standing, just barely, with nothing but the chains around her wrists holding her up. Half-dried blood stained her forehead and matted her hair. The video only lasted for fifty-five seconds. Fifty-five seconds of nothing but her hanging there, feet barely on the ground. She was conscious but only just, likely concussed from the wound on her head.

“She’s been struck around the head, likely to incapacitate her before she could fight back during the abduction,” Morgan identified, eyes trained on the video.

“The unsub knows what he’s doing. There isn’t anything in the video that could indicate where she is,” Rossi added as he perched down on the end of the table to examine the paused video further.

Hotch hummed as he too was glued to the screen. “She can’t be far, she must have been abducted sometime since leaving here yesterday and this morning. Most likely during the night.”

JJ turned from the screen, unable to watch any longer. “We left at the same time last night and it’s unlikely she would have stopped on her way home.”

“Can we stop talking about her like she’s some random victim? This is y/n we’re talking about,” Reid snapped, drawing all eyes to him.

Each new comment in the discussion had been piling up until he just couldn’t take it anymore. This wasn’t just some case, nor was it any other victim. This was y/n — their friend.

“Reid, we know she isn’t just any victim but we have to look at this like we would any other case. It’s the only way we’re going to find her,” Morgan reminded, hoping to ease Reid at least a little.

“JJ, play the video again. We need to look for anything that could help us figure out where they are and Reid, I need you to focus. We’re going to need your brain on this.”

The youngest of them nodded, heeding Hotch’s words. This was just a game to the unsub — a game he’d made specifically for the BAU team. They were the only ones who could save her, he knew that.

“Hey, there’s something else in here. Looks like a note, taped to the inside of the box,” Prentiss announced before JJ had a chance to replay the video.

“What is it?” Reid was the first to jump at the new information, hoping it would be a better indication of where their missing friend was than the video.

Prentiss carefully tore the note from the box and began to read it out loud, “It’s a riddle. ‘I have cities, but no houses. I have mountains but no trees. I have water but no fish. What am I?’”

“A map,” Reid concluded after only a brief moment of pause, “It’s a map.”

“A map? I don’t see any kind of map here.” Morgan gestured at the now empty package before crossing his arms over his chest. He knew the wonder boy was right but he still couldn’t understand what the riddle could mean.

Hotch too seemed to be running circles in his head, unsure of what their unsub was trying to point them to. “Does it say anything else?”

Emily looked up from the note with troubled eyes as she voiced the final part, “Find her by midnight and she’ll live. Good luck, Agents.”

As if on cue, Reid vocalised the conclusion he had come to in his head, jumping to his feet like he was about to rush there himself without a second thought. “The Marina.”

“You think the unsub is holding her at the Marina?”

“I think it’s the only indication of a map I can find in all this. Marina and the Diamonds? The unsub didn’t choose that album without reason.”

Hotch hummed, seemingly agreeing with Reid’s deduction, and began to give directions. “Okay. Morgan, Prentiss and Rossi will come with me to the Marina. JJ, I need you and Reid to watch the video again. Look for anything we might have missed in case we’re wrong. And Garcia, I need you to track down exactly who delivered the package and where they delivered it from.”

Everyone got to their feet, springing into action as they would on any other case. They all knew their part to play and knew it was vital in locating their missing team member. Everyone other than Reid, who was less than happy to have been told to stay behind.

“No, I’m going with you.”

“Reid…” Hotch turned to him with a hand to his brow, already anticipating the headache that was to come if he continued to clash with the young doctor.

“No,” he cut him off again, “This is not negotiable. I’m going to the Marina with you.”

With a sigh, the unit chief gave in, knowing there was little he could do to keep Reid in the office. “Okay, Reid you’re with us. Prentiss, you stay here with JJ. Call us the moment you find anything.”

𓆩♡𓆪

Spencer had been restless the entire ride there. His hands were fidgety in his lap, his nails occasionally digging into the skin of his palms. He was stressed and more on edge than the rest of the team, not that anyone had expected any less.

Everyone knew that Reid had had a budding crush on y/n since she joined the BAU. Not that he’d ever acted on it. Morgan teased him about it constantly, comparing it to a schoolboy crush. Only, it wasn’t just a schoolboy crush. Not anymore.

The longer they had gotten to know one another, the closer y/n and Reid became. He felt as though she was the only one who really saw him, not that the rest of the team didn’t care greatly for him. She just understood him better than anyone else.

So, to say it was a simple crush would be a lie. He was in love with her. How couldn’t he be? She was pretty and funny and kind and a great agent. She saw him for who he really was and accepted every part of him. She stood up for him when the team teased him about his rambling. She always listened so intently, never once cutting him off no matter what it was he was talking about.

He was in love with her but now, he feared more than ever that he was about to lose her.

“She’s going to be okay, Reid,” Morgan comforted from the seat beside him, squeezing Reid’s shoulder as if the gesture would ease his fear.

Nothing would ease it. Not until she was safe.

It wasn’t like Reid to doubt himself. He knew he was right about the riddle, he had to be, yet he was still starting to wonder what would happen if he was wrong.

They only had until midnight. There was no time to spare and if he was wrong about this they might just lose her.

“I know,” he lied, trying to mask his true feelings.

Morgan sighed, seeing through Reid’s weak façade. No matter what he said or did, it hadn’t stopped his legs from bouncing or his hands from shaking.

The moment they arrived, Reid was fast to get out of the van. Too enthusiastic about rushing in headfirst to save her. He glanced around, taking in the fresh air as if his lungs had been deprived for hours.

“Spread out and search the area,” Hotch ordered and the team nodded, checking their vests one last time before pulling out their guns for the sweep.

They searched almost everywhere but found nothing. No sign that y/n or the unsub had ever been there. It was just a Marina and none of the boats there were big enough to fit the room they’d seen in the video.

Reid was beginning to believe that he really was wrong, that he had just wasted time they didn’t have on a hunch. Well, he was beginning to lose hope until Rossi called the team over to his location.

With a fast-beating heart, Reid ran as fast as he could manage to see what Rossi had found. He prayed it was her and that she was safe — that it was over.

Disappointment was not quite the right word for his feelings when he arrived and saw she wasn’t there because something was there. Another note, written in that same red marker.

“‘So you figured it out. Well done, agents. I hate to disappoint but your missing agent isn’t here but I hope this gift will help keep you on the trail’?” Rossi read the letter aloud before turning it over to find a USB taped to the other side.

“He’s playing with us.” Morgan shook his head, already growing tired of the unsub’s game.

“Or testing us,” Reid argued, “He’s referred to us as ‘agents’ in every note so far. It’s like he’s-”

“A part of the bureau,” Hotch finished for him, drawing the same conclusion, “Likely an ex-agent or even an ex-recruit.”

Morgan’s brow creased and he asked, “By why us? Why is he testing us? And why did he take y/n? He could have taken any one of us, why her?”

“Because she’s the newest member of the BAU. Maybe he doesn’t see her as an official member of the team yet?” Queried Reid.

“Or he just thought she’d be the easiest to abduct because she’s less experienced,” Rossi added.

“Whatever the reason, we don’t have a lot of time. The unsub must have had base access to use the marina. Reid, Morgan, I need you to speak with the workers here. See if they’ve seen anyone strange and ask for records to find out who owns this boat. We’ll head back to check in with the rest of the team and get this to Garcia.” Hotch held up the USB, knowing Garcia was the safest person to give it to as there was no way to know what would be on it.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Anything?”

“No, you?”

Reid shrugged. “Not much but I did get a name for the boat owner. Rudd Richardson.”

“Did you run it by Garcia?”

“Yeah, Rudd Richardson died three years ago.”

Morgan hummed in thought. “So our unsub is using a dead man’s name?”

“Maybe. Garcia is looking for any other property that is still registered in his name but she hasn’t been able to find anything yet and it doesn’t look like the unsub has taken Richardson’s identity.”

Their discussion was cut short when Reid’s phone began to ring.

“Garcia?”

He shook his head, looking up from his phone in disbelief. “No. It’s y/n.”

Right away Morgan pulled out his cell to call Garcia. If it really was y/n or even the unsub they would need her to trace the call.

“Y/n?” Questioned Reid as he put the phone on speaker, his voice already settling into a tone of urgency.

The line was silent but the trace had already begun, all they needed to do now was keep them on the phone.

After a brief moment of static, a weak voice finally spoke from the other side, “Reid?”

“Y/n! Y/n, can you tell us where you are? Are you alright?” He spoke at a hundred miles a minute, desperate to know she was okay.

Static again as the phone on the other end seemed to move from one ear to another.

The young doctor gulped as another voice began to speak, “She knew you would figure it out… The first clue. Let’s see how quickly you figure out the rest. The sands of time are forever slipping…”

The voice was dark and warped, spoken through a voice-changing device. Its sinister vibrations sent a chill up Spencer’s spine.

“Wait! Y/n!”

“Dammit,” Morgan spoke bitterly, knowing the call had not been long enough to give them any hint on their location, “He’s taunting us.”

“We need to get back to the others. He said this was the first clue, the USB must be the next.”

Morgan sighed. “We have to play his game. Or we may never find her…”

𓆩♡𓆪

“Please tell me you guys have got something,” Morgan asked while looking down at his watch.

There was still time but there was no way to know if the unsub would stay true to his word.

“Nothing yet. The USB locked Garcia out of the system the moment she plugged it in, she’s trying to regain access now,” JJ explained with a sigh before turning her attention back to the files in her hands.

Reid was only growing more anxious and began fishing for anything else that could be of use. “What about the video?”

“Nothing. We’ve watched it a hundred times but there’s nothing in it that could tell us where they are.” Prentiss chimed in as she too walked over with a new batch of files.

“So what do we do? We can’t just sit around and wait for Garcia to get the system up and running again.”

JJ split the files he was holding into three before passing a pile out to Reid and Morgan. “I know you’re worried, Spence. We all are but there isn’t a lot we can do right now. Until she gets back in all we really can do is look at these files to see if anyone fits the profile.”

“Profile? We’ve got a profile?” Morgan questioned as he began to flick through the files.

“Well, Hotch told us you think it’s an ex-agent or recruit but other than that we don’t really have a lot to go on so right now we’re just looking for anyone that sticks out.”

Reid dropped the files down onto the desk with a scoff, “We’re looking for a needle in a haystack. This isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

“It’s better than sitting around twiddling our thumbs.” Morgan shrugged.

“Look, Reid, if you don’t want to look through the files then go help Hotch and Rossi. They’re looking for anywhere she could be being held. Warehouses, storerooms, abandoned homes. Look for anything and everything and start making it down.”

He only grew more frustrated as he listened to Prentiss. “So if we run out of time we’re just going to start knocking on doors until we find her?”

“We don’t really have any other choice right now. Not until Garcia gets back into the system. He’s testing us, right? So this is probably just another test. She’s got this.”

Like Morgan, Reid also had full faith that Garcia would get back into the system but he was worried about how long it would take her to do so. They were on the clock and every second they spent sitting around waiting for her would only bring them closer to their deadline.

So, to try and ease his mind, Spencer decided to go help Hotch and Rossi in the hope that it would help bring them closer to finding y/n.

𓆩♡𓆪

“I’m back in. I’m back in!” Garcia cried out and soon the team were rushing into her office.

It had been no longer than an hour but that was still an hour they didn’t have to spare in the first place.

She tapped away on her keyboard, eyes flickering across the screen at the speed of light as she searched for any trace of what the unsub had tried to achieve by locking her out of her own system.

“He’s watching us,” she announced when her tapping fingers finally began to calm down, “I don’t think I can remove him from the system, not from my end anyway. I had to reboot the whole thing just to get back in. It’s amazing he’s even still here.”

“So he can see everything we do?” Rossi questioned, wanting to know exactly what the unsub was able to do with his access to the system.

Garcia hummed, “Yep. Well, he can see through our webcams but he doesn’t have access to my screen. That was a nasty piece of malware but it won’t give him access to any of my files.”

Just as Hotch opened his mouth to speak, a notification sound rang from the speakers and a message popped up on the screen. It was typed out rather than written but the red colour still prevailed.

‘Well done, Agents. You’ve cracked the code and earned your next clue: I can’t be bought, but I can be stolen with a glance. I’m worthless to one, but priceless to two. What am I?’

“Love… the answer is love,” Reid announced with a tightening heart.

“But what does that mean? Love, what kind of a clue is that?” Morgan complained, once again growing tired of the game they were being forced to play.

Prentiss hummed in thought for a moment before asking, “What about wedding venues? A church maybe?”

“Or some kind of date spot? A restaurant?” JJ added.

Before long, everyone was throwing out ideas but nothing was clicking.

Hotch was the first to catch onto the lead again. “Garcia, see if Mr Richardson was married.”

“Okay.” The tech-whiz complied and began tapping away on her keyboard again.

Within only a few short seconds she had her answer. “He married Triss Anderson in 1984 but she died during childbirth over twenty years ago.”

“What about their child?” Morgan prompted, drawing at any loose threads.

Her eyes flicked over the screen again as she searched for the information. “They had a daughter. She’s living here in Quantico, only a few blocks away from here actually.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

𓆩♡𓆪

“No car,” Prentiss stated as they approached the house.

Rossi stepped up to the door while Reid and Morgan peered in through the windows.

“Look’s like no one’s home,” Morgan sighed.

Still, Rossi tried the door. “Miss Richardson?”

When no response came, he banged again.

“You’re looking for Jen?” They turned around to the neighbour, eager to hear what she had to say. “She left for vacation just over a week ago. I’m Michelle, I live across the street. Maybe I can help you?”

“Do you know when she’s supposed to come home?” Reid questioned, worried they had wasted their time.

Michelle thought for a moment before replying, “Actually, now that you mention it I think she was due back last night.”

“So she hasn’t come home?” Asked Prentiss as she hurriedly pulled out her phone.

“No, I guess not. You don’t think anything has happened to her, do you?”

As Rossi began to reassure Miss Richardson’s neighbour, the others quickly headed back to the van.

Prentiss held her phone to her ear, exchanging a worried glance with Morgan as she spoke with the unit chief, “Hotch, we might have another missing person on our hands.”

“Are you Spencer Reid?”

Spencer turned from the van just before opening the door to find a young boy standing behind him.

“Yeah, you know me?”

The child shook his head and shyly held out a piece of paper and pointed down the street with his free hand. “That man over there told me to give this to you.”

As he took the paper, Spencer quickly looked in the direction the boy was pointing but whoever may have been there had long since gone.

“Thank you, kid. Get home safe now, okay?” Morgan had to speak for him while Reid examined the note.

“It’s an address, Morgan. He’s given us an address.”

𓆩♡𓆪

Wasting no time, the group headed for the address on the note. Garcia ran it through the system and found it to be an empty home, one currently up for sale.

It was the perfect place for the unsub to hold them, although Morgan still doubted the nature of the note. It didn’t make sense for him to just give them the answer now. Not after making them jump through hoops to so much as obtain a single clue.

“Reid, wait,” he reached out for the youngest, holding him back from rushing straight inside, “We don’t know what we’re going to find in there.”

“We can’t wait, what if y/n is in there?” Reid was quick to shake him off, desperate to find her.

Morgan sighed as he pulled out his gun. “The unsub could be in there too, just don’t do anything rash.”

Spencer was the first to the door. He stood ready as Morgan exchanged one quick, affirmative glance with Rossi before kicking down the door.

In the blink of an eye, all four agents infiltrated the home and began to cautiously clear each room.

“Clear!” Prentiss called out from the bathroom as Morgan and Reid began to scale the stairs.

She slowly approached the bedroom, knowing it was the last room to check. If they were going to find anything, it was going to be in there.

When Morgan and Reid were close enough behind her to have her back, she reached for the handle and quickly opened the door.

She checked every corner of the room before giving the all-clear but something was wrong. Her voice was quiet, choked even, as she entered the room.

Morgan turned to Reid, not knowing what to do other than keep him away to stop him from looking inside but he was too late, he’d already caught a glimpse of what was waiting for them inside.

“Y/n? Y/n!” he cried as he rushed towards the room, shoving past Morgan who moved to stop him.

In the middle of the empty room was a body. A woman wearing clothes Reid recognised. She was lifeless and stained in blood. When his hands shakily reached out to her, he felt the coldness of her skin on the tips of his fingers.

He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe.

He got back up, unable to bring himself to look at her face – to turn her over and come face-to-face with her void eyes.

Everything was a blur, all of his senses going dull as Morgan moved to further inspect the body.

Emily too was standing near the door as if she were frozen in place with her hand covering her mouth.

Slowly, Morgan rolled the body over onto its back. He was quiet, almost too quiet, before he finally released the breath he had been holding.

“It’s not her.”

𓆩♡𓆪

“Jena Richardson, daughter of Rodd Richardson. A twenty-six-year-old entrepreneur. She was supposed to go on vacation to Europe eight days ago,” Garcia read through the information she had discovered about the woman.

“He chose her for a reason. He did all of this for a reason. Been planning it for a while too.”

Hotch hummed in agreement with Morgan. “He took Miss Richardson before she had a chance to leave for her vacation, she never left. Her bags are likely still inside her home.”

“And when he took y/n, he stole some of her clothes to dress the victim in so that we would think it was her. That’s why he chose the victim… because she looked like y/n,” Prentiss concluded.

The whole team had gathered in the briefing room again, discussing their next course of action.

“There was nothing else on the body or in the house? No next clue? Nothing to tell us where he might be holding her?” Hotch questioned, hopeful that there would have been something — anything.

Prentiss shook her head. There was nothing. Nothing at all. They had searched everywhere. Every single inch of that house but there was nothing there. Nothing but the body.

“Then we’ll have to wait for the coroner’s report, maybe the unsub left a clue for us there.”

“No, we don’t have time to wait. We only have a few hours left. There has to be something we’re missing.” Reid began to pace the room, running through everything they’d discovered so far in his head.

“Reid,” Morgan began, “We’ve run out of options but we still have time.”

The young doctor only began to shake his head, his eyes glaring in disbelief that his team could even suggest to sit around and wait while y/n was in danger. “No, we don’t. We have hours and if we just keep sitting around waiting she’s going to die.”

Just like that, he was storming out of the briefing room and, while Hotch gave new directions to the rest of the team, JJ jumped up to go after him.

“Spence!”

“If you’re just going to tell me to sit tight and wait like everyone else you’re wasting your breath.”

She understood how he was feeling because she knew how he felt about y/n. She knew it was a fool's errand trying to calm him down or convince him everything was going to be alright. All she wanted to do was be there for him when hope began to fade.

“Where are you going?”

He tugged at his collar, his fingers moving to loosen his tie in a desperate attempt to breathe. “I need some air.”

She let it be as he rushed through the bullpen, heading straight for the elevator. If she had left a moment earlier, she wouldn’t have heard the sound of a text coming through on his phone as the elevator doors began to close.

His eyes widened as he read the message, one that had come through from her: ‘It’s funny, isn’t it? Love? When you lose the thing you love, there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do to be reunited with it. That’s what I did, you know. I reunited Miss Richardson with her beloved father. Now I’m giving you the chance to be reunited with the one you love, so long as you come alone.’

Another text came through by the time he reached the bottom of the building. Another address.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Where’s Reid?”

JJ looked up from her paperwork and glanced out into the bullpen. “He’s not back yet?”

Morgan frowned. “No. Where did he go?”

“He said he needed to get some air but he should have been back by now,” she explained as she stood up, realising what had happened, “Shit.”

“What?”

“He got a text before he got into the elevator.”

Morgan was already half out of the room by the time she finished her sentence. “The unsub.”

The two of them all but ran to the rest of their team, already gathering their things to leave as questions started flooding in.

“Reid’s gone after him,” Morgan announced as the rest of the team gathered their equipment and began to head for the door.

“Alone?” Prentiss furrowed her brows, she had hoped he would have known better than that.

JJ stuttered, still in disbelief, “H-He said he was just going outside to get some air.”

Hotch was already pointing Garcia back into her office before she’d even made it through the door. “Garcia I need you to find Reid’s car. Tell us the moment you know what direction he was headed.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

Everyone was in hyperdrive, working against the clock to find Reid and y/n before it was too late. They were already in the SUVs, splitting into two groups before they even had any information on where he was going.

𓆩♡𓆪

There he stood, outside a property that they never would have even considered including during their search for it was not empty or abandoned but rather a home. A home that seemed well lived in from the moment he stepped inside.

No one was there. Not a single soul. Yet every surface was decorated with family pictures. A mother, father and son. A happy family.

From the photos, the son seemed to be no older than four and all Reid could do was hope nothing bad had happened to him or his family.

With his gun raised, he slowly made his way through the house until he reached the door he was looking for — the door to the basement.

Quietly, he descended into the darkest depths of the house. The stairs barely made a creak and, by the time he could see into the room, he saw her.

“Welcome, Doctor Reid.”

The man was standing beside her, face half-hidden in the shadows. He had a knife and held it firmly near her stomach in a silent threat.

“Let her go,” Reid demanded, although when the unsub did not budge, he opted for negotiation over immediate violence.

Stepping from the shadows, the unsub revealed himself. Reid recognised him the moment the dull light illuminated his features. He was the father in the photos upstairs but he was older now and more unkept than he appeared in the pictures.

“I don’t know what happened to your family but please, you have to let her go,” he pleaded again, eyes flickering over to y/n.

Other than the injuries she had sustained during the abduction, she seemed okay but he noticed how weak she seemed. Her injuries were not bad enough to be the cause of her drowsy state. The unsub may not have harmed her further but it seemed likely she had been drugged.

“Reid…” she spoke in a quiet voice, her hooded eyes barely open as she looked at him, struggling to lift her head.

The unsub looked between them with a smile as if he was truly happy to see them this way. “Young love, isn’t it so precious?”

“What do you want?”

“Me? No, this isn’t about what I want. This is about what you want,” the unsub looked at y/n as she stood half-dangling beside him and pointed, “Her. You want her, don’t you?”

Reid raised his gun again, finger resting on the trigger the moment the man drew closer to her.

“You lost your family,” he stated, gaining the unsub’s attention once again, “Your wife and son. You lost them, didn’t you?”

Hesitantly, the man nodded. “They were taken from me, just as she was taken from you. In the night while I was away.”

“You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to hurt her. It won’t bring them back.”

“Oh, but I do. When I sent my case to the BAU, you turned it down. It wasn’t a serial killer or a professional hit. Just a burglary gone wrong. I was at work when it happened, out late on the job. I wanted to join the FBI, you know? I was a recruit.”

The more he explained, the more Spencer began to understand. The unsub’s connection to the BAU, and the resentment he held for them. The loss of his family had driven him to his breaking point and he blamed them for not finding the killer.

Why had he taken y/n? Well, it wasn’t because she was a newer member of the BAU or because she was less experienced than the others but because somehow he knew. He knew how Spencer felt about her and he wanted to show a member of the BAU the same pain he felt when he lost his family.

“Please, just put the knife down. It doesn’t have to end this way.”

The unsub held the knife tighter than before, raising it to her neck. “Oh, but it does. I want you to do it. I want you to reunite me with them. Send me to them, please. If you refuse, I’ll take her from you just as they were taken from me.”

Reid shook his head, refusing to play his twisted game any longer. “Put the knife down.”

“I hoped it could have been different.”

Time seemed to move in slow motion as the unsub lifted his arm, angling the knife back onto her abdomen as he swung it down.

“No!”

𓆩♡𓆪

“Garcia, you’re sure he’s here?”

The technical analyst hummed over the line. “Positive.”

“I see his car,” JJ announced as she climbed out of the SUV, already rushing toward the house.

The team approached the building with caution, not wanting to rush in and startle the unsub into doing anything rash. They knew Reid was inside but they didn’t want to put him in any more danger.

Only, before they even reached the front door, they heard a gunshot and all caution flew to the wind as Morgan kicked down the door and burst inside.

They cleared each room before reaching the entrance to the basement and, upon hearing footsteps approaching, all guns were aimed at the door. They stood their ground, ready for whatever they were to face but when the door finally opened, all anyone could do was breathe a sigh of relief.

“Reid!” Morgan was by his side the moment he stepped through the door with her in his arms.

Hotch saw the spattering of blood that stained her clothes and looked into his eye. With just an exchanged glance, he knew what had transpired.

The unsub was dead. It was finally over.

Despite Morgan’s offer for help, Spencer carried her all the way outside to the paramedics. He stayed with her still as they lifted her into the ambulance. She was out of it, barely aware of what was going on.

“Go with them, we’ll meet you there.”

Reid offered a subtle nod to his unit chief, thankful that he was allowing him to accompany her to the hospital.

𓆩♡𓆪

Quiet beeps echoed through the room, the sound of the monitor that continued to track the beats of her heart.

Reid sat waiting, hands fidgeting as he bounced his leg.

“The doctor said she’s going to be fine, relax a little,” Morgan comforted with a gentle hand on Reid’s shoulder.

The youngest glanced up at his friend before his eyes flickered back over to her. “I can’t relax. Not until she wakes up. Not until I know she’s okay.”

From the moment the doctor had told them it was okay to wait with her in her room, Spencer had been by her side. The time he had spent in the waiting room before was agonising and he had felt relief when the doctor told them she just needed time to recover. Still, he couldn’t help but worry about her, not when he had been through something similar before. Kidnapped, tortured, and drugged.

He was thankful this unsub had seemed to skip the torture but he could still sympathise with how she was feeling. She had been taken from her own home. He could only imagine how scared she must have been.

When she finally began to stir and her eyes finally fluttered awake, he was on his feet again. “Y/n? How are you feeling?”

Morgan chuckled, “Come on kid, give her a second to wake up before you jump her with questions.”

Spencer was already holding her hand, his thumb rubbing gently across the back of it as he smiled.

“Spence?”

He nodded as she slowly came to, squeezing her hand a little just to make sure she knew he was really there — that she was safe now.

“I’ll go let the others know she’s awake,” Morgan excused himself, leaving the two of them to talk alone.

“What… What happened?”

He gulped and stuttered slightly as he answered, “Y-you were kidnapped.”

She closed her eyes again and nodded, recalling the events that had transpired as well as she could remember them. “You saved me. Thank you.”

With a small smile, he nodded.

It was quiet for a moment and all she could focus on was the warmth of his hand. Soon, he too realised he was still holding her hand and quickly let go as he cleared his throat to speak.

“So, how are you feeling?” he repeated his earlier words, eager to hear how she was holding up.

She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Honestly? Like shit. My head is killing and I think I might still be a little high.”

Spencer was now the one laughing at her remark, thankful that she was well enough to make light of the situation. “Yeah, that’s probably the painkillers the doctor gave you. Must be a pretty bad concussion if your head is still hurting.”

“Yeah, well it could have been a lot worse…”

The mood soured again with her words as the two of them were reminded of just how badly things could have gone had Reid not found her when he did.

“I knew it was going to be okay, you know. When I saw you I just… I knew I was safe.”

Though she smiled, it was her eyes that conveyed all he needed to know. Everything she’d never spoken aloud, everything she wanted to say but could never bring herself to do so. It was the first time he’d truly felt it, the way she felt for him. The first time he’d realised that she cared about him as much as he cared about her.

A test of faith had brought them together, breaking the boundary between them.

Spencer stepped closer again, leaning towards her as he took her hand in his again. With his other, he brushed her hair from her face, fingers lingering on her skin as time froze still.

Their quiet moment together would soon be broken when the door opened and the rest of the team flooded in to see how she was but, for just one moment, they were the only two people in the world.

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#—dinguswritings ⌕#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff

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solarlunarsstuff · 1 month

Note

hello 👀👀👀 may i request an alastor trying to woo lucifer's oldest daughter while the big boss of hell and charlie are watching 👀👀👀

thank you so much and have a wonderful day!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

YIPPEE !! A hazbin Hotel req ! I only watched around 4-5 episodes of the newest show so it might not be accurate ! Enjoy :) !

Alastor x Fem!Reader (FANFIC)

A/n: He might be a little bit obsessed with you, but don't worry, he'll make you quiet if he has to force it. (HUSKERDUST 4 LIFEEEEE)

TW: Fingering, READER IS A HOOKER !!!, semi-public, getting caught, his horn thingies grow, tongue fucking, getting eaten out, dry humping, pet names (slut, whore, baby, doll, ect), you look a little bit like Charlie, dirty talk, nipple play, messy make-outs, overestimating, and edging. Lmk if I missed anything ! 😙

Synopsis: Alastor, the 7'3 radio demon, the overlord of a lot of land in hell. Even though he's shown no sign of wanting to experience intimacy, he can change that rule...

The first daughter of the big boss of hell.

That was your title, ever since you were born. Later on though, you had gotten a little sister.

Charlie Morningstar.

She was a big ray of sunshine despite being born in this hellish place. You loved her, you really did.

The both of you nearly look the same. You did dye your hair to (F/c) so there is quite a difference. You're about 6'9, a few inches taller than her.

You also held that wicked smile from your father, typical.

Anyway, you were in the middle of cleaning your apartment when you heard a knock on your door and the sound of paper falling onto the floor.

You thought it was those stupid kids on floor 4 playing games again, but it wasn't. Turned out to be a letter, signed by... your younger sister?

Of course, having nothing else to do, you ripped it open with your nails and unfolded the neat paper.

It read,

'My dear sister, I know we don't talk much anymore, but I would love it if you paid a visit to the hotel! I also know you probably don't have a job, but dad wanted to see you too. He had just come to the hotel about an hour ago. He was basically pleading to see your pretty face again! So, please, think of this and get back to me as soon as possible.

XOXO, Charlie'

You always loved the way that she signed letters. She's been sending you letters with her sign off like that for years now.

Either way, you sat on your couch, contemplating if you should just go or not.

"Fuck it..." You thought out loud

Choosing something comfortable and not something you wore while hooking up.

Oh, right... You're a hooker. It's a job that's actually nicely paid, paid enough for food and your bills. That's it, that's what you were worried about.

What if one of your clients worked there? What of your dad and sister find out?

One client stood out to you though, what was his name? Did it start with an 'A'? Either way, he was one of those people who would choose a hooker and later on be actually interested.

You? Never, it would ruin your job reputation, not wanting to let your job go, you kindly refused, and he went on with his life.

Until you have gotten various notes from someone, some of them were wholesome? In a way, like, "I miss you" or "Just give me a chance".

Others... others were sort of... sexual... For example, "My cock aches for you" and they even sent a paper that had been covered in lipstick kisses.

But it wasn't lips. It was, uhm, you get the idea. He might have been a little bit crazy for you, but it stopped a couple of years ago.

Maybe he realized that I wasn't interested in something serious? You still thought about it as you took the taxi to the front street of the hotel.

You thanked the driver, but instead of him saying your welcome...

"How about I give you a ten? You know, for your pretty body?" He grinned

"No thanks, you don't seem like the type that I would bother with. Plus, that 10 won't even cover 20 minutes.." You snarled back

He whispered some slur under his breath but drove off anyway.

"People think they can just ask me for -" you stumbled back as you ran into something, more like someone...

Red vest, big deer ears, a staff...

'Oh shit..' You thought to yourself

Maybe he won't remember you?

"Back for round two, love?" He grinned maliciously

'God fucking dammit..' you looked up seeing that stupid radio demon overlord.

"No, I'm not, you sick fuck. I'm here to see my little sister.." You moved around him and continued to walk towards the hotel.

"Ahh, that's why I thought you looked familiar.." his voice had a hint of static to it.

You stayed silent and opened the doors, your sister turned around to see who it was.

"Alastor, I said that you -" she stopped once she saw you.

'That's what his name was...' You smiled a little at how your sister nearly knocked you over as she came and wrapped her arms around you.

"OH MY GOD, Y/N, YOU CAMEE!!!" She jumped up and down while hugging the shit out of you.

"Hah, yep, it's me!" You awkwardly hugged her back, noticing your father talking to the other workers on the lobby couches.

Lucifer turned from the sound of your voice and did the same thing as Charlie.

"MY SWEET GIRL!" He squealed

"Hey, dad." I sighed as he also hugged me

Charlie's personality was mostly taken by your father's side while you to your mother's.

Not really knowing your mom, but you knew you had almost the same personality. The little family bonding was broken by the voice of presumed 'Alastor'.

"Y/n, was it? Pleasure to meet you!~" As if... This fucker is acting as if you've never met before.

"Right..." You went along with it, about to shake his hand, but almost forgot that he is an overlord of souls.

You just smiled lightly at him, seemed like it was the safest option.

[1 hour later]

Nifty was off somewhere cleaning, Angeldust was flirting with Husk, Lucifer and Charlie were laughing at something stupid. And you, you were just sitting on the end of the couch, sipping on your (F/d).

Everything was going lovely until you heard a little bit of static start to form behind you. Everybody else didn't seem to notice, but you did. While turning around, you saw that dumb fucks face.

"Darling, tell me.. Do you like me for the money? Or for how your pretty walls wrapped around my d-" you instantly cut him off, not wanting anybody to hear.

"Shut the fuck up..." You glared at him

He smuggly smiled and sat next to you, squishing you between the armrest and him.

"Could you move-" Your voice stopped in your throat when his hand landed on your thigh.

Alastor kept his hand there, slightly rubbing his hand closer to your cunt.

He paid no mind to your silent pleas. Instead, he started talking with Husk and Angeldust. Thank the gods you were in a blindspot, or everybody would've seen Alastor touching you up.

His hand swiftly slipped into your shorts, rubbing your dampened panties from the outside.

You started to softly buck your hips into his fingers, wanting to gain friction. As if it was obvious, he stopped, grinning from you silently whining.

"Are you okay?" Your father, Lucifer, asked. He noticed how you were twitching.

"Mhm!" Was all you could muster as Alastor started to pump his fingers again.

Your arm flared out, gripping his shoulder. "A-alastor... You..." You couldn't speak for shit.

"Please let me and Miss Y/N excuse ourselves!" Alastor announced to the group.

Before you could speak up, he dragged you a few feet around the corner. "What the fuck-" he cut you off by forcing his lips onto yours.

"You're going to shut the fuck up and take me right here..." He pulled away slightly before diving back in.

A/N: I'm gonna edge yall since I want this to be done before school starts tm!! :3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #charlie morningstar #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor smut #smut #hazbin hotel smut

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ruh--roh-raggy · 5 months

Text

This (William Afton x Fem! Reader SMUT)

Hello! Wow, I can honestly say I wasn't expecting that big of a response on my first fic so thank all of you so much!! I've got brain rot real bad about this man, so expect a lot of fics for him. Now, onto the fun part. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! ADULT CONTENT AHEAD, 18+ FIC AHEAD, MDNI, age gap (reader is in college, William is in his 40's/50's), jealous William, hinted that he killed your terrible coworker if you squint, thigh riding, unprotected sex, pnv sex, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, some spanking but it's nothing too intense, size difference (I just love me a big man what can I say?), cock warming, Reader is 5'0/152cm because that's how tall I am, whoops) dom William, slight degradation, definite praise, pining, domestic!William, OOC William, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, use of pet names sweetheart, honey, pretty little thing, bunny (I think that's everything, please let me know if I forgot any tags!)

Word count: 8,058

You can find my Masterlist here!

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You tapped softly on your boss’s half open door. You heard him finish up a phone call, the receiver clicking as he hung up. “Come on in.” He calls cheerfully. You push open the door, his gaze softening as it landed on you.

“Mr. Afton, can I talk to you really quick?” You ask nervously, anxiously tracing over the cold brass doorknob with your finger.

“Of course you can. Shut the door, come on in.” You do as he says, you swallow thickly as the door clicks shut behind you. You sat in one of the stiff pizzaria chairs he had at his desk, the once vibrant clumps of geometric shapes beginning to fade with age. “What can I do for you sweetheart?” He folds his hands in front of him as he shoots you a small smile. You always found yourself growing flustered under his gaze, your eyes darted to the nameplate that sat on his desk, tracing over the neat gold letters as you tried to steady your pounding heart.

“I was just wondering if you could stop scheduling me with Kyle?” You mutter, cursing internally at how stupid your request sounded.

“What happened? He didn't hurt you, did he?” The sudden flash of anger in his voice was unmistakable.

“No, nothing like that. It just feels like he always goes out of his way to give me the worst jobs. A kid throws up in the ball pit, I have to clean it up. A parent gets too drunk and trashes a table, I'm the one on my hands and knees making sure there's no fragments of glass still stuck in the carpet. I know this probably sounds ridiculous, I'm not trying to start problems-”

“(Y/N).” His gentle tone makes you freeze. Your eyes drift up to meet his. He reaches across his desk, holding his hand out for you. You tentatively slip your hand into his, your breath shaky as you watch him trail his thumb over your knuckles. His skin was so warm, you looked so small and delicate compared to him. “I'll deal with Kyle, okay? You're too pretty to be doing those jobs anyways.” You can't help but blush as he winks at you. He stands up, his height allowing him to tower over you as he walks you to the door, his hand on the small of your back. “Have a good night sweetheart, I'll see you tomorrow.” He smiles down at you.

“Goodnight, Mr. Afton.” You smile coyly at him as you turn to leave. He leans against the door way, his arms crossing over his chest as he scans over the pizzeria.

“Kyle!” He barks. “Come see me at the end of your shift bud, we need to have a little chat.” You couldn't keep the smile off your face as you pushed out of the building.

When you came back the next day you expected to see Kyle seething with rage over whatever punishment Mr. Afton had dished out, but he was nowhere to be found. You wandered back towards your boss’ office, wanting to let him know you had arrived to start opening. “There's my favorite girl.” He grins as you poke your head through the doorway. “Come sit, I took care of opening prep, you relax.” He nods in the direction of one of the chairs across from him. He never takes his eyes off of you as you sit rigidly in the seat. “You look tired, would you like some coffee?”

“Oh, you don't have to trouble yourself.” He attempts to wave you off, both of your actions cut short by the sound of your stomach rumbling. “Excuse me.” You look away awkwardly.

“I guess something a little more substantial than coffee is in order here.” He stands, motioning for you to follow him. You trail behind him as he leads you into the kitchen, the smell of the greasy premade pepperoni pizza baking in the oven practically making your mouth water. He grabs the wooden peel, expertly flicking the pizza onto it and retrieving it from the industrial sized oven. “So you haven't eaten and you look exhausted.” You cringed slightly as you waited for him to chastise you, knowing how bad it looked that you weren't showing up to your job with your best foot forward. He sets the pizza on a metal tray, leaving it to cool as his focus directs itself onto you. He takes a few long, agonizingly slow strides towards you. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?” You found yourself immediately growing flustered at the sound of the familiar pet name. Mr. Afton had been using the endearment since you had started, yet hearing it roll so effortlessly off of his tongue never failed to make your cheeks grow warm and arousal to pool between your legs.

“Yeah, it's stupid.” You try to brush your earlier problems of the day away, not wanting to bring attention to what you believed would come off as a childish reason to be upset. Seeing the concerned looks in your boss’ eyes prompted you to continue. “I got into a fight with my roommate today and I ran out of time to eat because we were arguing. I'm sorry-”

“Sweetheart, you don't have to apologize.” A shiver ran down your spine at the sound of his voice. “I'm worried, not upset.” His shoes enter your line of sight, which was currently trained on the floor, as he steps in front of you. A set of warm fingers ghost over the skin of your cheek, pushing back a stray tendril of hair that had fallen out of your messy attempt at tying it back. You slowly meet his hazy green eyes, a patient smile adorning his lips as he waits for his words to settle. You gave him a small nod in response. You walk out onto the main floor of the pizzeria, the eyes of the four life sized animatronics seeming to follow your every move. Although you had grown used to the sight of the vibrantly colored animals, there was something about them that still unnerved you. “Who's your favorite?” You jump slightly when Mr. Afton suddenly speaks up. You breathe out a laugh as you turn to face him.

“Bonnie,” his face lights up at your immediate answer, “I've always liked rabbits.” You join him in the small booth, he eyes you carefully as he serves you a piece of pizza on a napkin. “Thank you for the pizza, Mr. Afton.”

“William.” He corrects with a small smile. “There's no need to be so stiff outside of work hours, doll.”

You can't help but giggle at his playful tone. “Well, thank you for the pizza, William.” He straightens up slightly at the sound of you saying his name. You were honestly a bit surprised to say that you were having a good time. William was charismatic, funny, a little awkward but in a way that came off as endearing. You stood side by side with him in the kitchen, working in tandem to clean up the dishes you made from your impromptu lunch date. You kept finding your eyes drifting over to him, the sight of his sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, his muscular forearms flexing as he twisted a rag inside of a cup. You swallowed thickly, quickly tearing your eyes away from him and back to the metal pizza pan.

“Right behind you, sweetheart.” William groans as he reaches around you to grab a dry rag. Your heart pounded in your chest as he leaned into you. You feel his arm brush against your back and you dared to look over at him considering that you might never get the chance to be so close to him again, your little secret crush on your boss refused to let you miss that opportunity. You let out a small, startled squeak as you found him already looking at you. Everything about him seemed to only drag you in deeper as you got caught up in his gaze. The deep, musky smell of his cologne, his mossy green eyes holding you firmly in place. His arm wraps around your waist, your hands flying to his chest as he pulls you into him, his lips crashing against yours. It took a moment for your mind to catch up with what was happening to your body. Your eyes fluttered shut, the warmth of being pressed tightly to him seeping into you as you let yourself give in to what you truly wanted. Your hands slid over the soft fabric of his shirt, your fingers just barely grazing over his collar to pull him closer when the main door to the pizzeria slammed open and the excited voices of your coworkers filed in. You startled apart, Williams eyes immediately averting to the floor as a look of shame rapidly spreads across his features. He mutters out a hurried apology as he pushes past you, through the kitchen doors, and directly into his office. You saw your friend Ashley jump as the door slammed behind him, eventually seeing you standing alone in the kitchen as your face dropped into your hands. You had no reason to be but you felt embarrassed. Your whole face burned as the moment replayed itself over and over in your head.

“What the hell was all of that?” Ashley exclaims in a hushed tone as she enters the kitchen.

“Nothing!” You turn to the sink, pretending to wash your hands as an excuse to not have to look at her. “Mr. Afton had an important call to take.” She eyes you curiously, knowing you weren't being honest with her. You felt sweat begin to bead at your temple under her scrutinizing gaze.

“Fine, keep your secrets.” She huffs playfully as she crosses her arms over her chest. She quickly closes the gap in between you, “but if you're fucking the boss and you're not telling me I'm going to be so mad.” You knew it was a joke but you were still a bit on edge from the earlier ordeal.

“Keep your voice down!” You snap, quickly looking over at his office door to see that it was, thankfully, still shut. She gasps, your nervous body language giving you away.

“Tell me everything.” She grabs you by the shoulders, forcing your attention back on her. “Is he good? Is he… y'know?” Her eyes flashing down to your crotch and back up. “Is he big?”

“Ashley!” You attempt to shush her again. “I'm not sleeping with Will-Mr. Afton.” You hurried to try and correct yourself, but your little slip up only added more fuel to the fire.

“Were you about to call him William?” She grills you, a wide, excited smile taking over her face. “Do you guys have pet names for each other? I hear him call you sweetheart all the time but I thought that was just because you're his favor-” You clamp a hand over her mouth, it was the only way you could think of to get her quiet.

“Just hang on,” you wait to see if she was actually done talking before pulling your hand away. “I came in early to open. I was supposed to be working with Kyle but he never showed. I think Mr. Afton might have fired him.”

“Did you finally go talk to him about that creep?” She asks as she leans up against the counter. You nod in response, “good, he was making your life a living hell here. Continue…” she prompts with a wave of her hand.

“I walk over to his office just to let him know that I'm here and he tells me that everything's already done-that’s not the important part.” You took a deep breath to steady yourself before telling her what had gotten you so frazzled. “He was helping me clean some dishes and he reached around me for the towel, so what was I supposed to do? Not look?” Ashley chuckles, being the one person who knew about your crush she understood how impossible that would have been for you. “I looked over at him and he was already looking at me and then he kissed me and then you guys came in-”

“Hold on. Pause.” She holds up her hands to get you to halt your recap. “He kissed you?” You nod, but before you had time to continue one of your coworkers kicked open the double doors to the kitchen.

“Alright ladies, I hate to interrupt, but I got some pizza to make.” He groans through his forced smile.

“We’ll talk about this later.” She whispers hurriedly as she ties her apron around her waist. You nod, copying her motions as you prepare to open for the day. Throughout your shift you kept thinking about the kiss. Did it mean something or was it just an impulse? Did William somehow know about your crush on him? You stood at the side of the pizzeria, unable to keep the smile off of your face as you watched him take a picture with an excited child. You found your mind wandering again, the delighted scream, pings, and whirrs of the room around you seemed to almost fade away. You could still feel his arm wrapped around your waist, how strong his broad chest was under the palms of your hands. You snapped yourself from your daydream, the glowing white eyes of the Spring Bonnie suit studying you carefully. You straightened up, hurrying off to the kitchen so you wouldn't be seen slacking. By the end of the night you had just about driven yourself crazy with questions. Questions you were determined to get answers to. You said goodbye to your coworkers, promising Ashley that you would catch her up when you were able to. You walk up to your boss’ door, a determined look etched into your features. You raised your fist, freezing just before knocking. Why was this so hard? He kissed you! If anything you should be furious! He had completely ambushed you out of nowhere and you had spent the whole day walking around in a fog because of it. But, part of you was worried about what his answer might be. It was easy to hide your feelings from him up until now; glances that lasted a little too long, walking a little too close to him so your fingers could brush his, it could all be passed off as if it were nothing. Now, you were standing in front of his door ready to charge in there to demand an explanation for the kiss not because you were upset with him… but because you were hopeful about what the implications of what that kiss could mean. Before you had the chance to decide for yourself what you were going to do the door opened. William froze at the sight of you standing on the other side. He sighs, raking a hand through his already messy hair.

“(Y/N), I'm sorry about earlier, I don't know what came over me.” Your heart cracked slightly at his apology. So, it really was just an impulse. “Can we… Can we talk about this? I think it might be better for both of us to get it all out in the open.” You were struggling to fight against the tears blurring your vision.

“I think I'm just going to go home, Mr. Afton.” You grimaced at the sound of your voice shaking.

“Sweetheart, I can't let you drive like that.” He carefully wipes away a tear that had slipped onto your cheek. Your lip quivered at the sound of his pet name for you, a soft sob breaking free from your chest as you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. William quickly pulls you into his arms, letting you hide against him. “That's it, let it out.” He says as he soothingly rubs your back. Your arms finally slid around his torso, he rocked you back and forth slightly as he waited for you to calm down. You sniffle as you pull back from him, his warm hand cupping your cheek. “You're even pretty when you cry.” He muses. Your cheeks flushed at the compliment. You allow him to wipe away any remaining trails of tears, realizing after avoiding each other all day that you missed being close to him.

“William,” your voice was a hoarse croak as you spoke. You place a hand over the one he has resting on your cheek. “I want to kiss you again… please.” His eyes widened slightly at the request. But, once he let your words sink in, he wasted no time granting your request. You stumbled back slightly as he kissed you passionately. You grab onto his collar, keeping him flush against you as you reveled in the sensation. One of his hands slaps haphazardly against the doorway as he guides the two of you inside, roughly kicking the door shut before slamming your back against it. He takes your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head in one swift movement. You whimpered softly as he pulled away from you, despite your desperate need to breathe you felt like you would die without his lips on yours. You had to look almost straight up in order to meet his eyes, a wild and hungry look dominating his gaze. He breathes out a chuckle at the sight of you, the look you gave him so full of need it nearly brought him to his knees.

“Such a pretty little thing you are, sweetheart.” He slowly swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, the flesh tender and swollen for the one mind numbing kiss he had granted you. “I can't tell you how long I've wanted you.” You whine as you feel his leg push in between your own. You were forced up onto your toes, struggling to contain the soft moan that bubbles up in your throat at the delicious pressure against your clit.

“Enlighten me.” You challenge, earning a deep, rumbling laugh from him.

“Surely, you must've known.” His head dips into the crook of your neck, biting you hard enough that you knew he would leave a mark behind. “I see you everyday; the way those tight little jeans mold to your ass, how your shirt is always pulled down just low enough to tease me…” you see the briefest look of jealousy flash through his eyes. “How those immature, snotty little college boys are constantly throwing themselves at you.” He pushes into you, his lips staying just out of reach as he keeps you pinned in place. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, he smirked as he felt you squirming against his thigh. “What's the matter sweetheart?” He asks sardonically. You were having trouble thinking straight. Every time you let your full weight sink into him it only made you need his touch more, his hot breath fanning over your lips made your whole body ache for him. “I think you know that no one could take care of you like I could, don't you?” You nod in response, your breathing growing noticeably quicker as he questioned you. His forehead comes to rest against yours, his dull green eyes searching your features for any sign of hesitation. “Well then how about I give you a night you'll never forget?” He smiles sharply at you.

In one sweep of his arm his entire desk is cleared off. Paperclips scatter across the floor alongside papers and whatever other trinkets decorated the wood surface. He grabs your hips and pulls you roughly to him, his lips ferociously meeting yours in a kiss that knocked all the air from your lungs. Your initial fight for dominance over the kiss was very short lived. If anything, William found your defiance rather cute. He growls against your lips, a sound that has your knees threatening to buckle. His hands slide from your hips down to your ass, groaning as he gives it a firm squeeze. You squeak as he easily lifts you from the floor, guiding your legs around his waist as he sets you on his desk. He fumbles blindly with the button of your jeans, eventually being able to start working then down your legs. “I can't wait to fucking ruin you.” He presses a hand flat against your chest, pushing you back onto his desk. You struggle not to blush, turning away from him so he hopefully wouldn't notice. Your fingernails dig into wood as he teases at your entrance with his fingers. “Such a cute little bunny.” He smirks. “Already so wet for me and I haven't even touched you yet.” He takes your chin between his fingers, turning you to look at him. “Look at me sweetheart, I wanna see those pretty eyes when I fuck you senseless.” His hand dips under the hem of your shirt, his large, warm hand roaming your bare torso as you lay compliantly before him. He roughly grabs your jaw, watching your expression carefully as he eases his fingers into you at an agonizingly slow pace. A strangled gasp breaks free from your throat as his digits bottom out in you, your gummy walls clenching around them.

He chuckles as you roll your hips, searching desperately for any type of relief. He begins to rock his fingers inside of you in time with your movements, taking his time to fully stretch you out in preparation for what was to come. As he gradually increased his pace the louder your moans became. You gripped tightly onto the arm that had moved from your jaw to the desk next to your head, your nails digging little crescent divots into his skin. “You look so fucking pretty like this.” He looks over you, drinking in the way your body writhed from his touch.

“William.” You whimper his name.

“What is it, bunny?” He coos. “What does my needy girl want, hm?”

“Want… want to touch you.” Your words came out slurred as you fought through your moans and the mind numbing pleasure he was inflicting on you.

He tuts at your demand, giving you a disappointed pout. “Poor thing, you want to touch me?” You nod furiously. He fingers thread into your hair, giving the strands a rough tug to ensure that your eyes are on his. “Ask nicely and maybe I'll let you.”

“Please.” Your wide innocent eyes pricked with tears as you gazed up at him longingly. He hummed, pondering over your pathetic state as he continued to slowly rock his fingers inside of you. “William, please, please let me touch you. I want… I need you.” Your begging came cracking out in a sob, tears sliding down your face as you grew more desperate to get your hands on him. William chuckles at the sight of you.

“Such a needy little thing” He smirks. He lets the request hang in the air for a moment, the only sound filling the room was the squelching of your arousal in his hand as he fingered you. His lips land on your pulse, causing you to shiver. He takes your wrist in his massive hand, guiding it to the top button of his dress shirt, giving you permission to start undressing him. Your fingers shook as you worked at the fastenings, Williams pace never slowing making it difficult for you to focus on the task at hand. Your struggling was going to be well rewarded. Once you had undone the final button on his shirt, William grabbed you roughly by the collar, hauling you to a sitting position so you were now sitting face to face with him. You whined at the sudden emptiness of him removing his fingers, but your annoyance was short lived. You pushed the dress shirt from his shoulders, William making quick work of discarding his undershirt into an empty chair in the room. You just about drooled at the sight of him. His broad shoulders and strong arms from years of working on machines in his shop flexed and shifted under the dim office lighting. You couldn't tear your eyes off of him as he started loosening his belt. You blush as he chuckles, realizing you had been caught staring. “Like something you see, sweetheart?” He asks in an amused tone. He prowls over to you, the buckle of his belt jangling as it hangs limply as his side, his pants falling low on his hips.

You bite your lip, reaching out for him once he’s close enough. You wrap your legs around his waist, fingers threading into his hair as his lips crash into yours. You run a hand over his chest, the thick carpet of coarse hair tickling your palm. In one swift movement your shirt is pushed over your head, your breasts bouncing slightly as they fall back into place after the disruption. William admired the soft lace that complimented your skin. His hands slide over your waist and up your back until he reaches the clasp of your bra. He fumbles with it a few times until the tension of the elastic finally relaxes. He takes his time removing your final article of clothing. The straps are eased off your shoulders one at a time, his beard ticking your bare skin as he places delicate kisses anywhere he could reach. Goosebumps spread across your chest as the fabric is finally fully removed, William’s eyes drifting down to get a full view of your perfect form. He lets out a primal growl at the sight before his lips latch into yours again. His fingers dig into your hips, dragging you to the very edge of his desk in order to line his cock up with your entrance. You moan into his mouth as he sheathes himself full inside you in one hard thrust. Your breath comes out in long, shaky exhales as you struggle to adjust to his size. Even with the prep from his fingers he still stretches you to a point that makes you feel like you're about to rip in half. William was a lot bigger and thicker than any guy you had been with previously. You already felt drunk just from the sensation of him bottoming out in you. “Eyes on me, bunny.” He whispers in a gentle tone. Your eyes flutter open, you hadn't realized you had even shut them to begin with, meeting his hazy green ones. You cry out as he gives you a single sharp thrust, a mixture of pain and pleasure burning white hot through your body as you struggle to take all of him. He lets out a satisfied hum as he studies your fucked out expression. “Already cock drunk, hm?” He chuckles, resting his forehead against yours to keep your attention on him. With every snap of his hips it brought you closer and closer to your climax, your moans impossibly loud in the small, cramped office. “You wanted this all along, didn't you sweetheart? You knew those stupid little boys could never make you feel like this.” He snarls. “Now, here you are, about to cum on my cock.” Drool had started to leak out of the corner of your mouth as you struggled to keep your eyes on his. He dips a hand between your legs, rubbing fast circles on your clit.

“William!” You moan out his name, his free arm wrapping securely around you to hold you tightly against him.

“Such a dirty girl, fucking someone nearly twice your age.” He chuckles cruelly, his eyes darken as they meet yours through your haze. “Pathetic.” Degrading you like that seemed to unleash something primal in him. His thrusts somehow managed to get faster and more brutal. You screamed as your orgasm ripped through you, desperately crying out his name as you clawed against his back. His hands wrap under your thighs, lifting you from the desk slightly in order to get better leverage. “Fuck.” He groans, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he approaches his end. He kisses you hard as he finishes, hot ropes of his cum coating your walls. You both stayed locked in your embrace for a moment, waiting for your breathing to calm down. You wince as he pulls out of you, a slight sting as your absurd cunt attempts to clamp around nothing. He looks around the room for something to clean you up with, deciding on his shirt when nothing else seemed plausible. He gingerly reaches in between your legs, a softness and hesitancy you didn't expect after the evenings most recent events. You let out a soft hiss at the slight bit of pain you felt as he cleaned you up. He soothingly caresses your thigh with his free hands, shooting you an apologetic look from his position situated in between your legs. You studied him for a moment, his gaze distant, and hazy as it trailed to the floor.

“William.” Your soft voice drifted over his ears, bringing his attention back to you. You adjusted your position so you could sit up. “Come here.” He stands, even sitting on his desk he still towered over you. You wrapped your arms around him, resting your chin on his soft stomach. You trail your hands over his back, his skin slightly sticky with sweat.

“I’m sorry if I took things too far-”

“You didn’t.” His gruff voice was cut off with your quiet reassurance. “You were amazing.” You give him a coy smile before pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. A small smile breaks out on his face as he chuckles at your glimmering expression.

“Come on bunny, let’s get you dressed.” He combs his fingers through your hair, “although I will never get tired of looking at your beautiful body.” He winks causing you to blush, you lightly slap his chest. He places a kiss on your forehead before collecting your clothes. You feel eyes on you as you’re getting dressed, you can’t help but smirk when you look over your shoulder so see William staring at your ass. You make a show of stepping into your panties, adjusting them so they are perfectly in place before shimmying into your jeans. William was practically drooling as he watched your supple flesh jiggle as you worked yourself into the tight clothing. You place one final kiss to his burly chest before he slips his undershirt back over his head. He trails a finger over your jaw. “I was hoping we could make this a more than one time thing… Maybe I can take you out to dinner after work some night?” He asks with a charming, lopsided smile.

“I’d really like that William.” You push yourself up on your toes, having him meet you halfway to place a chaste kiss to your lips. “Goodnight.” You whisper with a smile.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He breathes out a laugh as you both slowly pull away. You grab your jacket and bag from the employee locker room, giving William one small wave as you pass by his office on your way out. You fell into your driver seat with a groan, sticking your keys in the ignition, your heart still pounding in your chest. You turned the key expecting your engine to rumble to life, but your car refused to start. You tried again and again, falling against the steering wheel with an aggravated sigh. You kicked open the door and trudged back inside. William gave you a confused look as you walked back up to his door. “Everything alright?”

You grew embarrassed over the fact you had to ask. You never had anyone who was able to teach you about cars, you wouldn’t know the first thing about trying to find the problem yourself. “My car won’t start. I hate to ask, but could you come look at it?”

“Of course, honey. I’ll take care of it.” Your heart flutters in your chest at him taking charge of the situation. You definitely could get used to having him around, there was something about his unwavering confidence that made you long for him even more. You follow him back outside, watching him carefully as he examines your engine, a massive black flashlight held tightly in his hand. “I see the problem.” He groans as he reaches to point something out to you. “You need a new timing belt.” He points out the problem, excitedly going through the mechanics as you listened attentively. “You can leave your car here, I’ll pick you up a new one tomorrow.” He stuffs his hand in his pocket. He twirls his keys around his pointer finger. “Let me just go lock the door and I’ll drive you home.” You nod, growing giddy over the fact you would get to spend more time with him. He wraps his arm around your shoulders as he leads you around back to his car. You slide stiffly into his passenger seat. The inside of his car was pristine, some vintage model muscle car you didn’t know the name of. William’s hand envelops your thigh as he drives, ever so often giving the soft skin a gentle squeeze as you direct him to your off campus apartment. You lived in the not so great part of town, even outside of Hurricane standards. Shootings, stabbings, human trafficking, all of it had happened somewhere in your neighborhood. You noticed William’s expression grow more concerned as you drove. You eventually pulled up in front of your building, a rickety looking triple decker that looked like it would collapse from a slightly too strong gust of wind.

“Well this is me.” You state softly with a slight shrug of your shoulders. William sighed as he stared up at your building.

“You live here by yourself?” He glances at you in the passenger seat as he asks. You nod in response. “Bunny, would you like to come spend the night at my house. It’s dangerous for a girl like you to be by herself out here.”

“Spend the night with you?” You repeat his request back to him, he nods slowly, worried he crossed a line. “If you’re offering, I'm definitely not going to say no.” You lean across the cab of the car, pressing a kiss to his cheek. The drive back to his house was spent mostly in silence, every so often his hand would drift from your thigh to bringing your knuckles to his lips. You left the main part of town, the houses you passed becoming few and far between as the sides of the road were taken over by tall fir trees. You pulled up in front of a cozy looking house, the outside paint faded from years of abuse from the harsh Utah weather.

“Home sweet home.” Me mumbles with a lopsided grin. You trail closely behind him as you walk up to the door, jumping at every snapping twig and animal scurrying through the brush. “There’s nothing to be scared of sweetheart, I’ll keep you safe.” He smiles down at you, keeping you tucked into his side as he unlocks the door. He gently nudges you inside first, following closely behind you. The second the door clicks shut William’s lips are on yours again, a flustered sigh escaping you as you melted into him. “I’m going to get dinner started.” He mumbles against your lips.

“Would you like some help?” He nods, motioning for you to follow him to the kitchen.

“I would love some.” He grins at you. The two of you worked side by side to prepare dinner, every so often you would catch William stealing glances at you out of the corner of your eye. “Honey.” He suddenly speaks up, you turn to face him only for him to pull you into a kiss. “You just sit here and look pretty, I’ll finish this up.” His large hands wrap around your waist, he lifts you from the floor and sets you on the counter with ease. He hums as he works beside you, easily recreating his recipe from memory. Always keeping you on your toes, he was making homemade tomato soup and grilled cheese. He takes quick pauses, caging you in between his arms on the counter as he gives you rushed kisses that leave your head spinning. He holds out his hand for you, a gesture you gladly accept. He helps you down from the counter, balancing your plates and bowls on his arm. You sit across from each other at the small dining room table. “So what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a shit hole like this?” He asks with a chuckle.

“Unfortunately this shit hole has one of the best colleges in the state.” You respond with a laugh of your own.

“What’s your major?”

“Mechanical engineering.” You respond the moment he finishes his question. He looked very perplexed by your answer.

“What made you want to take that up?” He leaned forward, completely focused on you alone.

“Well, honestly, you did.” You blush a bit as you respond. “The animatronics you make are phenomenal. I hope one day I can be half as talented as you are.” He looks away bashfully, not used to such direct flattery.

“Maybe I can have you help out in the workshop sometime.” He offers with an excited glint in his eyes.

“If it means spending more time with you I would love to.” You shoot him a flirtatious smile. You find yourselves drifting closer together as you clean up after dinner. You gathered up your plates, standing on your toes to try and put them in the cabinet with the rest. You let out a frustrated sigh as you struggled to reach. The warmth of William’s body pressing into yours from behind made you freeze.

“I got it sweetheart.” He chuckles, taking the plates from your hands. “Such a cute little thing you are.” He whispers next to your ear making you shiver. You squeal as he lifts you from the floor, taking you in his arms as he carries you upstairs. He tosses you onto the bed, stripping out of his clothes with a groan, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. You can’t help but smirk slightly as you grab him by the wrist and pull him in to kiss you. “Strip, I wanna hold you.” He commands. You decide to give him a little show, taking your time to peel out of your jeans, swaying your hips as you pull your top over your head. You stripped out of your lingerie before straddling his lap. His hands knead your ass, rocking you gently against the already half hard erection in his boxers. He pulls you into bed, shutting off the lights before joining you himself. He slings an arm over your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest. You bite your lip, shifting your hips as you feel his cock press into your back. The moon cast in through the window, basking the room in a dull silver glow. You hear William’s breath catch in his throat as you press your ass into his throbbing member. “Someone’s needy.” He chuckles, his breath hot against his ear. “What’s the matter bunny, need me to fill you up?” You nod, letting out a soft whine as you push back into him again. He places a kiss just below your ear, spreading your legs with his hand as he lines himself up with your entrance. You let out a broken moan as he slowly pushed inside of you.

“Holy fuck.” You gasp, your fingers digging into his forearm as you grab him tightly as your walls stretch painfully around him. “Wow.” Your eyelids fluttered as your eyes rolled back in your head. His fingers slid around your throat, putting a delicious pressure on your neck.

“Such a good bunny, taking me so well.” His meticulous hand placement was starting to make you feel light headed, the mixture of the sensation and his praise making you dizzy with dopamine. You moan as he rolls his hips slightly. “You feel so good squeezing around my cock.” He purrs before placing a kiss on your cheek. You squirmed and whined as you lay there, impaled on his throbbing cock. William groaned at how wet you were, he could feel your juices dripping down the base of him. “So pretty sweetheart.” He coos, chuckling at your desperate state. His arm tightens around you, rolling his hips and causing you to cry out. You cursed as he pushed impossibly deep inside of you, your body moving instinctually as you bounced on his cock. He groans, his hips snapping up to meet yours. Your moans grew louder and more fervent with every thrust, his tip kissing the perfect spot inside of you everytime. Your thighs started to shake as you felt your climax creeping up on you. “Are you going to cum for me sweetheart?” He asks in a sweet voice. You nod, biting your lip to try and muffle your moans. You yelp as he suddenly delivers a sharp slap to your ass. “I want to hear you bunny.” He growls in your ear.

“Yes sir.” You gasp, letting your moans fall freely from your mouth. You let out a high pitched whine as your orgasm hung joust out of reach. You moan out his name, he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, making you cry out in pleasure. He reaches a hand in between your legs and swipes his fingers over your clit.

“So good for me.” He praises you. He wraps his hands around your waist, helping you fuck yourself faster on his cock. You scream his name as your orgasm rips through you, sobbing as he fucks you through your climax. Your whole body shook, your hand gripping weakly onto his wrist. “I got you sweetheart.” He whispers, settling himself deeply inside of you. Your eyelids felt heavy as you nestled into his soft pillows. He pulls the comforter up around your shoulders. You smiled at the scent of his musky cologne. Every small shift from him made you whine, after letting you rest for a while he began to rock his hips again. Small gasps and sighs falling from your lips as he tenderly fucks into you. “I’m gonna fill you up.” He groans, his thrusts growing uneven and stuttering every so often.

“Please.” You moan softly. Hearing your soft voice only seemed to spur him on. His slow deep thrusts had both of you moaning. You held on tightly to William’s arms, wanting to be pressed as close to him as possible. He groans your name as he finishes, his hips stuttering as he pushes as deep inside of you as he can manage. He places soft kisses to the nape of your neck as he pulls you into his chest. You found yourself easily drifting off in his arms, before you knew it you had drifted off into a dreamless sleep. When you woke up you rolled over, cuddling into his warm back. You placed a soft kiss to a couple of the faded scars on his shoulder.

“Well good morning sweetheart.” He hums as he rolls over and pulls you into his chest. “You wanna stay in bed while I get breakfast started?” His voice raspy and deeper than normal as he fought off the thickness of sleep.

“Can you stay in bed just a little longer.” You put, nuzzling your face into his neck.

“Sure, anything for you sweetheart.” He says with a smile and a kiss to your forehead. You laid on top of his chest, your fingers trailing through his chest hair as you talked about the plan for the day. He places a soft kiss to your lips as he slides out from underneath you to go get dressed. You cuddle up into the blankets, watching the muscles in his back flex as he gets dressed. A little while later he returned with a tray full of food, setting it in between the two of you. The two of you chatted pleasantly over breakfast, William consistently making you smile and laugh. “I’m going to head out to the garage, take your time getting ready, I’ll be out there when you’re done.” You grab him by the collar, keeping his lips on yours for a little longer than normal. He shoots you a wink as he slips out of the bedroom. You took your time getting ready, slipping into one of his shirts, the oversized clothing falling half way down your thighs. You washed your face and fixed your hair before wandering downstairs to find William. You heard the sound of powertools and pushed through the door. William stood with a welding mask on, his shirt discarded over a nearby chair. His skin, completely drenched in sweat, glowed in the dim overhead lighting. Streaks of grease dragged down his neck and across his stomach from where he had rubbed his hands across his skin. He flips his mask off when he notices you entered his workshop. “Hey bunny.” He grins. You saunter over to him to look over his expert work.

“You really are incredible, William.” He runs his fingers through his hair as he clears his throat, a noticeable blush on his face. You stood by him, allowing him to walk you through his process, an arm wrapped around your waist as he kept you tucked safely against him.He cursed as he looked up and noticed the time.

“We’re gonna be late.” He takes your hand, leading you inside. He pulls you into a heated kiss as he helps you out of your borrowed clothes. He picks you up and carries you into the shower. You yelped and giggled as your back pressed into the frigid wall. William carefully lets down your hair before allowing you to wet it. You sigh as he works shampoo into your hair, gently massaging your scalp. You couldn’t help but stare as you watched the soapy water run down his body. He wraps you up in a fluffy towel, retrieving your work clothes as you dried off. You both ran to his car, laughing as you fell into the front seats. “I’ll run out and grab the timing belt for your car after I check in on Freddy’s.” He promises. You nod, a bit sad that your stay with him was over so quickly. You fall into him as he turns sharply into the parking lot. He tilts your chin up with a finger, a softness in his eyes as he studies your features. His eyes flash down to the dark bruises and bitemarks that littered your neck. “Are you, um… are you okay with people knowing about this?” He asks with a slight wavering in his voice.

“This?” You ask with a coy smile as you raise your eyebrow at him.

“Us.” He blurts out before swallowing thickly. You lean in ,placing a soft kiss against his lips.

“Only if you are.” He breathes out a soft laugh, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He walks around to your side of the car as you’re gathering your things, opening your door for you. You thank him softly as he helps you out. You link your arm through his, leaning your head on his shoulder. He holds the door open for you, wrapping his arm around your waist before pressing his lips to yours in one long, loving kiss.

“I’ll see you after work, bunny.” He winks before slipping off to his office. You smile as you watch him head out, adjusting his tie and greeting customers as he passes by. You turn to look out over the pizzeria, meeting Ashley’s shocked expression. She speed walks over to you, her eyes immediately falling to your abused neck.

“What happened to catching me up?” She yell whispers at you.

“Things might have gotten a little more serious than just a kiss.” You admit awkwardly.

“Well no shit, look at the hickey’s he gave you.” You smile as you catch his gaze from his position seated at his desk.

“He wants to make sure everyone knows I’m his.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @redflowery (I think that's everyone, if you'd like to be added to the tag list or I forgot you please let me know!!)

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vagabond-umlaut · 2 months

Text

beckoning you, slowly, subtly

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Absence makes the heart yearn stronger.

Or: Gojo grapples with himself in the wake of you preparing to leave Tokyo Jujutsu High– in the wake of you preparing to leave him.

▸ Gojo x Fem!Reader; Former Teacher x Former Student; Reader has graduated from high school and is moving overseas for college; Gojo is 24-ish while Reader is 18; He's such a sad pathetic boi here; You think Reader is better? She's worse; Angst and Fluff; Use of humor as a coping mechanism [until it fails]; Very soft character study

▸ I wrote this as a prequel set minimum 10 years before the fic 'ensnared' -> You need not read that to read this, though. This is a standalone fic, through and through! 😊

Gojo feels nothing towards you.

No, he doesn't. He really, truly bears no feelings, whatsoever their nature might be, for you.

But... if it indeed is so... then why the hell are his knuckles so hesitant to strike the wood of your door, eh?

Gojo stays in this position for a beat or two more, before dropping his fist back to his side. Exhaling a mute yet deep sigh as his gaze travels over the tiny flowers and trees painted on the door. Next moves to the shoe rack beside, filled with neat rows of sneakers and flats. And finally reaches the cheery yellow paper taped to the door, your name written on it in smooth letters–

Before he can even realise it, the sorcerer finds his fingers over it, so wary yet wanting as they traverse the lines and the loops of the letters, eliciting a very soft murmur of the same from within, the latter darting past a dry throat and a heavy tongue...

"Sensei!"

The door suddenly springs open. Of course, with no one but you behind it.

Were here anyone else except him, Gojo is certain, they would have jumped feet in the air in response. Good thing, he isn't just some 'anyone else'. The sorcerer quickly withdraws his outstretched hand to stuff it into his pocket. And grins, the way he always does when caught in contemplation.

Big. Bright. Happy. So much so that it will either puzzle, or better yet, piss the other person off, eventually making them leave him to his devices...

"Heyyy," he drawls, decidedly making a show of his infamous breezy image— jarringly contrasting the manner his Six Eyes study your once decorated–now empty room, "Packing and everything's done, wow. Thought I might visit you one last time before you leave for..." Australia, but he chooses not to say it. Breezy image, remember?

Borrowing a beat to think– to make you think he's thinking, that is– the man resumes with a noisy chuckle, "Before you leave for wherever you're headed. When's your flight, by the way? Tonight or tomorrow morning?"

Whatever reply he might have been expecting from you, two shiny eyes and one o-shaped mouth certainly weren't on the list... You're pretty swift to erase them, however. Wiping your sweater paws over your face, you mimic his posture and grin back.

Cheeky, obviously, but much too strained than the ones you've given him so far... Your amused voice intrudes on his quiet scrutiny of you. "Why, Sensei? Missing me from this moment itself, eh?"

"Nah," he shoots back with a dismissive wave of his hand. Noting then ignoring the stinging twinge in the middle of his chest— no matter the fractional fall in your features; no matter anything, everything. "I'm literally waiting for when you'll walk out the school's torii gates— even more for when your plane will take off the tarmac and leave Japan! I was stuck teaching you for the better part of the past four years. What makes you think I'll miss you, heh. I'll be incredibly relieved, if anything."

"Ah," you say, following a moment's pause, "I see."

Quite an unenthusiastic reaction, if he's being honest; Gojo doesn't mind it, though. Not in the slightest.

Not even when he watches you regard him, oddly intense and pensive for a while, before you return to clearing your desk. So neat and tidy and dead with no books nor pens nor stray sketches strewn over its surface. The same way the rest of the room now seems: dreadfully dreary and dull, now that you– you with your bubbly self, shining in this damned dark school, jujutsu world– is moving away–

Oh.

Oh no.

You're moving away.

Which is... okay. Yeah, it's okay. But, but, but– "When will you come back?" The question escapes the confines of his mind into the stillness of your room, soon joined by another– one he bites his tongue and draws blood for, the second it leaves his mouth.

The tiny quaver in the words betraying the steady front he has put on very well– Until now. Until you— Too bad [or maybe, good] you've always read him rather well– so much so that you whirl round the instant the sentence flies into the foot in between, your crumpled features meeting his crumbling mask.

"You will come back, right?"

"I–" you start, eyes brimming with the same tears you wiped away so insistently then; he never hears you finish your answer, however.

Two tiny hands fling themselves round his neck, and before he can realise it, the sorcerer finds himself bent at the waist, nose nudging your temple while your face nuzzles into the crook of his neck, the collar of his jacket growing progressively wet with every passing second.

The man stops himself from returning your embrace— You were his student. He was your mentor. Your door is open. His Six Eyes sense Shoko and Utahime coming this way. He isn't meant for such empty shows of sentiment. He isn't sure if your gesture is as unfeeling as he hopes it is—

Screwing his eyes shut, he sighs. Yet offers no resistance when he feels your fingers unclasp from his shoulders then move to his hands, lifting them to keep them lightly on the small of your back.

Oh, well, whatever.

Gojo is still certain he feels nothing towards you.

Except, maybe, this steely resolve of his, engraving itself a cliff-like niche in his mind: To protect. To cherish this sweet feeling of you both in each other's grasp.

▸ Divider by @hitobaby. Header from Pinterest. I don't own the characters used here.

▸ masterlist

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #kit posts 📝

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diaco1968 · 5 months

Text

Bully!Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings! 18+, mdni, Bullying (only in the beginning tho), broken nose(no major character), smut, unprotected, choking, riding... the usual.

.also, everyone aged up and past college

"Whatcha hiding there pipsqueak?"

You immediately tried to get down to collect your scattered papers but he grabbed your shoulder and shoved you back up, your breath hitched as your back hit the lockers, the rattling attracting the nearby people's attention as they stared at you and started whispering amongst themselves.

"...nothing..."

You watched in dismay as he leaned down and grabbed the neat looking envelope and turned it to see the dried up flower taped expertly to its front, his nose scrunching up in disgust.

"What fuckery is this? Are you in a high school drama show?"

His eyes snapped on you with a glare before amusing himself further with the letter he pulled out of the envelope.

"He asked you out in a letter and still lacked the balls to sign it with his name, huh? Who is the loser? It's probably a prank."

You pursed your lips and he glanced at the letter again before pressing on.

"Or maybe he was forced in a dare."

"No he wasn't, give it back." You reached out to grab the envelope but he pulled it away holding it out of your reach.

"So you know him already. Been screwing around before, huh? Not as innocent as you look, are you?"

"It's none of your business."

"It's my business when I say it's my business." He dangled the letter above you but you narrowed your eyes and didn't bother play his game.

"So. If not for a dare then why the fuck is he asking you out?"

You frowned pressing your nails harder against your palm in a tight fist before pushing yourself off the lockers deciding it's not worth fighting over and with a huff turned around to leave but before you could take a step his hand slammed onto the locker next to your head, crumbling the letter in between his hand and the locker, his arm blocking your path and caging you in. You gasped and He leaned in to whisper in your ear, hot breath fanning the side of your neck. You could smell his signature caramel scent and you would have liked it if it wasn't for the current situation. He had never ever actually hurt you physically but he was still scary, and if he was capable of hurting you, you didn't want to find out. You gulped.

"This time I will let it slide. But you will not turn your back on me again. Got it?"

You very subtly nodded and he pulled away from you, the letter falling to the floor as he turned and walked away.

*******

As you made your way through the crowd of students it became obvious that the commotion was from a fight and all these people were standing there to watch. You had waited for a long time for your date to show up and now you were going to go and find out what was the hold up since he wasn't in the habit of making you wait. And unfortunately you couldnt get to him without crossing from this particular corridor. You could just slip past the fighting people without being noticed and ignore them. You were almost at the opening in between the crowd when you looked up to see none other than your date. He was lying on his back, holding his nose with both hands while blood trickled out from in between his fingers and he writhed on the ground in pain.

"Get up."

Above him was crouched your own personal bully, Bakugou, watching his pathetic prey with a curious head tilt, not a scratch anywhere on his face.

"I said get up!" His hand shot out and he grabbed a fist full of the poor boy's hair and pulled him up on his hands and knees while he grunted in pain.

"What are you doing?! Stop!"

All eyes turned on you before you could process your interference, but your eyes were only locked on a pair of glinting crimson eyes as they stared back at you with excitement.

"Oh look! There she is. Is this the kind of whimp you're into? Really, (y/n)? You fancy weaklings, huh? Disappointing."

He then looked back down at the boy,

"why dont you tell her yourself?"

He grabbed your date by the scruff and pulled him off the ground, onto his feet and held him in front of you. It was a sorry sight, the blood dripping down from his swollen nose onto his chin, a violent red patch on his cheek slowly turning purple and watery eyes either from the impact to the nose or he was crying.

You looked him in the eye wondering how he got himself into this mess, the more you looked the more you feared Bakugou.

"Go on! Tell her!"

He barked making you jump and your eyes darted between Bakugou and the boy.

"I don't want to go out with you anymore..."

His voice sounded awkward due to his nose being clogged by blood and he was looking down avoiding your eyes. You didn't blame him, if this had happened to him just cause he was dating you, it was only natural he wouldn't want to continue.

"Good boy. Now scram, loser!"

Your eyes were becoming glossy as you stood there unable to walk away holding back tears of frustration not wanting to piss him off again by turning your back on him. You had so many mixed feelings. Bakugou had no right meddling with your business like that. Despite his dipshit behavior, you kinda liked him. But he had never shown any sign of interest other than giving you his homework sometimes and bullying you around when he was bored. To want to prove you're not worth anyone else's love or interest was just another level of low, you had assumed he wouldn't stoop to.

On the other hand you couldnt help the tiny feeling in your gut that he did all this for you. A more primal side of you was tingling excitedly to the feeling of Bakugou fighting another male away from you to keep you all to himself.

You pushed this side far back down, a tear escaping and rolling down your cheek as you glared at Bakugou while he loomed over you, staring you down for a while, not looking as smug as he did a few seconds ago.

His scraped fingers twitched and you wondered briefly if he wanted to punch you too but he just clicked his tongue and walked away.

*******

You stared at the slender cigarette between your fingers, your other hand squeezing the lighter, looking around while you were standing next to the building after closing hours. It had rained all day and now it was cold and windy and everyone had already left so you were really in need of something to calm you down, your now-ex had once given you these and you doubted he was going to come for them after all that went down just a while ago.

With shaky fingers you put the roll between your lips and tried the lighter. The wind immediately blew in out, so you shielded it with your other hand and put it to the tip of the cigarette ready to inhale.

"What are you doing?"

Bakugou's voice startled you and in your horror your lips parted dropping the roll on the ground.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

You looked at the wasted cigarette on the ground that was now wet and soggy and looked back up at Bakugou staring intently at you waiting for a reply.

Wasn't it obvious what you were doing?

"I...needed to relax so... I was going to smoke?"

You sounded so unfamiliar and meek to yourself.

"Oh you were going to smoke, were you?"

He stepped forward and crushed the cigarette under his foot, getting in your face. You looked up at him wondering what he wanted with you now.

"Does it make you feel all grown up and tough? Smoking that shit?"

"I am already grown up... what are you talking about?"

His hands were immediately latched onto your collar and he pulled you to himself growling in your face.

"Oh you think you become so cool smoking, that now you can talk back to me?"

You frowned trying to free your clothes from his grasp.

"Bakugou...let me go..."

"You're not going to smoke again. You heard me?"

"It's none of your business! Let me go!"

You screamed at him, all the pent of frustration finally surfacing, but you regret it almost as soon as the words left your lips.

"Shut your mouth!"

He used his grip on your collar to shove you away and you stumbled backwards on the ground before plopping down on your butt in a huge puddle, the water splashing everywhere.

You immediately jumped out looking down at your soaked clothes, the wind freezing you to the bone.

"You're such a clutz..."

Your eyes snapped onto him in a furious glare.

"I was fine standing here on my own before a stupid bully decided he wasn't done with me yet after everything he did to me and started to push me around some more!"

By the time your yelling finished your whole body was shivering from the cold. He watched you for a few seconds in deafening silence, and you wondered if this time you angered him enough for him to hit you.

"Are you done?"

His tone was very calm and even kinda warm, so you nodded your head and he took off his coat and handed it to you to your surprise. Was that his way of apologizing?

"My house is way closer than yours for a cold walk. Let's go."

******

You watched from the window as the wind howled and lashed the branches against the windows and the rain drops poured down the glass, the sound of thunder making you jump a little and get out of your trance.

You sighed looking down at yourself.

You were wearing his shirt and that's all. A black shirt with a white skull on it, and very oversized for you. It reached down to the middle of your thighs, hanging loosely on your shoulders.

Your underwear was also soaked so you had to take it off too, now any kind of breeze would make you shiver and goosebumps rose on your skin.

"What are you doing there? Get out here and warm up."

You heard his booming voice slightly muffled by the closed door. You tried to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks and the tips of your ears thinking about your current style and how exposed you were and with a deep breath and a heavy sigh you stepped out of the bathroom to join him, your hands gripping the hem of your shirt and firmly holding it down over your thighs. When you walked into his room he was busy with his TV so you quietly sneak behind him and sit on the end of the bed feeling uncomfortable, he lived in a suite so there was no other place to sit.

"Did you hang your clothes up to dry?"

He didn't turn towards you but you instinctively pulled your legs closer to yourself and pulled the shirt lower over them.

"Yes."

"I forgot to give you these. Here."

He turned to the drawer and grabbed a pair of shorts from it then turned to offer it to you as you got up and reached over to grab it from him, his hands freezing mid air as his eyes locked onto yours.

You could feel your heartbeat rising as you watched his eyes rake down your body staring at his shirt on you, then his eyes moved down your legs and back up slowly again, his gaze so heavy you could almost feel it drag on you.

You grabbed the shorts from his hands but he snatched your wrist instead and pulled you closer, so close you had to raise your hand to press it against his chest not to slam into him.

"What are you wearing under it?"

His voice was significantly lower and much more sensual, for the lack of better words. You took in a big breath silently relishing in his caramel scent and the feel of his hard chest under your palm before looking up at him through your lashes, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Why do you ask?"

"Curiosity."

"How naughty of you."

"Watch it. you don't want to start something you can't finish." Even with the low growl in his voice he wasn't trying to sound threatening at all. You knew what he sounded like when he wanted to threaten. The opposite, he came off as very attractive sounding like that and looking at you through half lidded eyes. And you would bet he knew it too.

You leaned up on your tiptoes to get in his face as you looked straight in his eyes, your lips merely an inch away from his.

"And what if I can finish what I want to start?"

You could now feel his heartbeat under your palm making you wonder if you had previously missed it or was he just now getting excited.

"Then go for it."

You felt intoxicated by the heat and smell radiating off of him, the strong aura he had, it felt like you were too impatient to play him anymore. You leaned up and pressed your lips softly against his, closing your eyes. For a few seconds he didnt move at all, probably not expecting you to back your attitude up. The only contact he had with you was his hand on your wrist. But that changed in a blink of an eye. He let go of your wrist to grab your waist with both hands and pulled you flush against him, humming and deepening the kiss when you draped your arms around his neck. One of his hands moved up from your waist carassing your back from over the shirt before settling in a firm grip on the back of your neck, the other moved down squeezing one ass cheek from over the shirt before sliding under it to grip it tight and pull you into himself as he grinded his hips forward into yours. His tongue was in your mouth as soon as you parted your lips to moan, wrestling yours into submission.

It was too hot, too much, he was touching you all over, you tried to pull away from the kiss but his fingers carded in your hair grabbing a fistful and angling your face back up into the kiss with a demanding growl.

By the time you whined in his mouth you were almost completely out of breath and he loosened his hold on your hair to let you pull back to catch your breath, a thin string of saliva stretching from your lips to his tongue that he completely ignored, immediately latching back onto your jaw and moving wet hot kisses down your neck. His teeth were scraping over your sweetspots like he had known them for years before he sucked in your raw skin and licked over the abuse he left behind, he reached the collar and gently pulled it off one of your shoulders, sinking his teeth in the exposed skin, you gasped and gripped onto him tighter. He kept kissing and biting lower and lower until the shirt got in his way again. You pulled away from him and grabbed the hem to remove it but he stopped you.

"Keep it on."

His hands moved over your back again and felt up your sides pulling the shirt from behind to make it cling tightly around your form admiring your body from one step away before releasing the shirt probably enjoying how much bigger than you he was. With sudden movements he pushed you back on the bed and you landed on your butt looking up at him as he pulled off his own shirt, his toned body distracting your eyes. He noticed the brief disappointment in your mood and probably caught on cause he smirked and crawled on top of you making you scoot further up the bed.

"What? You thought I dont want to see what you're hiding under the shirt?"

His eyes had become so predatory that you had to bite your lower lip to hold back a submissive whimper. He grabbed your hips and pulled you back to him, making the shirt move up and crumple around your waist exposing much more than you intended to show.

"You should keep it on cause I want to see that you are mine."

His hand slid under the shirt and up your sides lifting it up and ducking his head underneath. It took him a few seconds to admire the view, his breath tickling your skin while he reached up and grabbed one of your boobs, squeezing and massaging it before he licked the rough patch of his tongue over your other nipple making you gasp and arch your back in surprise when he sucked the bud in his mouth.

When he tugged your nipple between his teeth you had to put your hand on his head and pull him back towards you but his free hand grabbed your hand and held it down by your side entwining your fingers. When his treatment of your boobs started becoming painful your protesting noises got louder and with a pop he released you from his mouth, moving his lips down your body leaving a wet trail. Letting go of your hand to grab your hips and lift you up, he pulled your lower half over his lap and placed your legs over his shoulders, bending you so far you could clearly see his face above you and between your legs, aligning your heat with his mouth. You couldn't grab his hair to have the slightest bit of control, your legs were in the way, so you just fisted the sheets and involuntarily clenched your thighs around his head as he licked along your slit roughly. His tongue rubbed up in between your folds, mixing your slick with his saliva before he sucked it all in harshly with your clit sending a sharp jolt up your spine.

"Ah Fuck!"

You couldn't help the loud moans and mewls that left your lips as your thighs started shaking in anticipation and you clawed at his wrists pleading him for mercy, but his tongue didn't seize fucking in between your folds.

"Ah... please! You don't have to..."

To your surprise he paused his movement to lift his mouth from you a little and when he started speaking his hot breath on your wet cunt made you shiver.

"No I don't have to, I'm doing this for me."

His hand reached out and grabbed a fistful of your hair yanking your head forward into an uncomfortable position were you could watch him eat you out and as he resumed his onslaught he watched you intently until your eyes roll back into your skull as you came undone in his mouth.

He layed you gently back on the bed letting you catch your breath, his eyes once again admiring the loose black shirt on you, half hiding some of the marks he had left on your neck and shoulders, your chest heaving underneath the skull print on the shirt.

His shirt.

Your face flushed bright red as you watched him wipe the glistening moisture from his lips and chin with the back of his hand, smirking at you when your eyes met, he held your gaze as he undid his jeans and pulled them down, making you avert your eyes.

"Ready to ride, pipsqueak?"

He flopped next to you on the bed, pulling himself further up on his back and rested his head on a pillow looking ready for a show with his hands under his head. Your eyes moved down his face to his tense abs to his hard on that was fully at attention looking all proud.

You bit your lower lip, wondering if you had ever felt so much heat in your face before, your face was probably beet red by now. You timidly got up on your knees and shyly lifted a leg to straddle his waist, holding the shirt down and hiding your naked lower half as much as you could, hoping you could hide your face if you got on him in reverse. His hand was on your leg in an instant pushing it back down and gesturing to your other leg.

"Nuh uh. I wanna watch you."

He didn't leave you room for more errors as he grabbed your waist and hoisted you up over himself, scoffing at the squeak you released when your soaked core rubbed onto his hard dick. You had to press your hands against his chest to hold your balance, and you very slowly started to get a feel of him slipping between your folds by rolling your hips over him.

Your grinding had his tip pressed into your entrance and his fingers twitched on your sides, holding them tighter as he hissed quietly.

"Gonna take your time, huh?"

"Will you shut up!"

You don't know what took over you, probably you've had enough of his teasing tone, but to further soludify your point you reached up with one hand and wrapped your fingers around his throat, squeezing the sides in warning.

The silence that took over made you gulp down the anxiety before you could look up at his face and you were immediately amazed; his cheeks were powdered pink, eyes half lidded but dialated pupils glinting with excitement and his lips were parted letting out shallow breaths.

He seemed to like it, so you kept your hand around his throat.

Not taking your eyes off of him you reached between you to grab his length and angle it before lowering yourself onto it slowly. once the head popped inside you and you engulfed it with your warm wet tightness, he let out the breath he had previously sucked in, as a long deep groan and closed his eyes, his face showing pure bliss for the whole duration you sank him deep inside you.

It took a while to get used to his size and his angle inside you, during which he didn't do anything to rush you, seemingly taken the hint that you were in control, but as soon as you started moving your hips his eyes snapped onto where your bodies were connected.

His hands carassed your sides as you timidly rose and sank back down on him again making you both release a satisfied sigh, then you started moving with a shy little rhythm. His fingers snaked under the shirt, his thumb hooking the hem and slowly pulled it up as his hands moved higher over your body, soon enough the shirt was crumpled right below your boobs, and he moved it higher holding it over your mouth.

"Open."

You glanced at the shirt then at him before taking the fabric between your teeth. You were now mostly naked in full display for him beautifully, as he watched your boobs bounce and jiggle with every move, moving his hands back into a firm grip on your hips to provide you some extra balance, his thumbs carassing you, not as gentle as it was possessive.

His tip was kissing your cervix every time you sank back down on him, making you roll your hips back and forth to savor the painful pleasure of it. He didn't appreciate your slow rhythm for long though, his patience wearing thin as he gripped your hips, his other hand moving up your spine before gripping the back of your neck, using his grip combined with a thrust of his hips up into you, had you lurching forward bracing yourself with your hands on the bed on either side of his head. And just like that your little game of dominance was over.The hand on your hips snaked around your waist, holding you firmly against himself as he started a brutal pace thrusting up into your gushing pussy, the knot in your lower stomach tightening, The angle had you gripping his shoulders for dear life, barely able to breathe as rugged gasps left your lips. His fingers carded through your hair pulling you forward to crash his mouth onto yours. The possessiveness of the kiss had you pushed over the edge , clamping around his length as your orgasm crashed over you, creaming all over his shaft. It took you a minute or so to come down from your high, and realise while he was helping you ride out your high with shallow slow thrusts his lips had curled into a satisfied smirk against your mouth, so you pulled away from the kiss, your cheeks flushed.

"I don't have to look to know you've made a big pretty mess down there."

You whimpered, hiding your face in your hands in embarrassment making his grin widen. He grabbed your wrists pulling them away from yiur face while he rolled you over on your back, now hovering over you.

"Why you hiding now? Too late for that I've already seen how hot you look when yoh cum undone."

He nudged your thighs up with his knees, placing his cock back in your folds, sliding over the sensitive nub a few times making you squirm under him.

"I want to see more of that lewd littel face of yours."

You started to weakly push him on the chest but He grabbed both of your wrists in one hand and held them above your head.

"You have one more in there for me, don't you?"

grabbing your throat giving it a gentle squeeze while he pushed himself back inside you, you shut your eyes, biting your lower lip at the sensation of him filling you up.

"you're going to cream around my cock again, aren't you?"

"... move..." you whined trying to pull him in more with your legs hooked around his waist but he didn't budge.

"Ask nicely."

"Fuck me please! I'll cream all around your cock! Please!"

His grip tightened around your throat and your lips parted while your walls cinched around his dick making him hiss from the tightness as he thrusted into you, long deep slow thrusts sending you over into a toe curling release, milking him harshly.

"Yeah, that's what I thought,...fuck!"

He let go of your wrists to grab his cock and jerked it over you, cumming all over your stomach and chest as he watched your fucked out face.

You were both panting as you came down from your high, looking at eachother, kind of shy and embarassed before he grinned down at you boyishly.

"Aren't you glad I ruined your date?"

You pushed him off annoyed.

"You could've asked yourself... nicely."

"Nah too cheesy. Like the letter."

You rolled your eyes and started scooting off the bed before his arm wrapped around your front and pulled you back to him, whispering in your ear,

"I'll ask nicely for you to choke me again, if you be a good girl."

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou smut #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou

518 notes · View notes

ashwhowrites · 5 months

Note

Eddie Munson x cheerleader! Reader, what if Eddie starts receiving some secret admirer letters that don't have any signature on them, only some red lipstick kiss on it and he's curious about who can that be, only when he's on a deal with Cheerleader! Reader, that she's starts to apply some red lipstick on that he connects the dots and he just jumps in excitement saying IT'S YOU! and reader is like Idk what are you talking about (just pretending not to know) but then when Eddie sits again she just starts to talk again and she gest closer to him and then kisses him?

-🩷

Thank you for requesting! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it <3

Red lipstick

Eddie Munson wasn't a guy that girls fawned over. He wasn't a guy girls chase around and try to win over. More like, they ran from him. If he ever had a crush, it was nearly impossible it would be responded to nicely.

He also wasn't friends with girls. He barely talked to any, unless it was on a deal. So imagine the confusion he had when he randomly started to receive little notes. Almost like a secret admirer note. The notes didn't say much, a few words that complimented him in some way. Some talked about his clothes, hair, rings, smile, or his laugh. Which meant this person constantly saw him and was close enough to notice small details.

He had a good feeling it was his friends playing a joke, but he wasn't sure if they'd be that mean. He had a feeling it was a girl based on the neat handwriting, oh! And the fact that every note had a lipstick kiss on it. A deep red, a red that would stain lips. He had to admit, he weirdly stared at his friend's lips lately, trying to see if any smudge of red was still there.

He always received them at the end of each day, in his locker. Well, he assumed, when the notes first started he never went to his locker. One day he needed a random book and tons of notes scattered on the floor by his boots. The excitement of reading the notes brought him back to check his locker every single day. And whenever he checked, there it was. Folded neatly, his name was written on the top with the red kiss mark.

He had no idea who it could be. He didn't talk to any girl one on one unless it was during a deal. And the girls he met with were cheerleaders....no way in hell would a cheerleader be into him.

~~~

Eddie kept the collection of notes in his backpack, not like anything else was in there.

His friends teased him about it all the time. To a point, he believes they aren't part of it.

"Miss lover girl write another one? "

"I bet you kiss the notes at night."

"does it smell like perfume?"

"Are we sure it's not Jason in drag?"

But right now he had to put the mystery aside and work on a deal.

He hummed a song as he sat on the bench, waiting patiently for his next customer. With the extra time, he dug into a few of the notes, his head pounding as he tried to figure out who the hell it was. It's been weeks and weeks. And he still came up with nothing.

"Whatcha got there?" A voice came from behind him. He jumped and quickly hid the notes. He zipped up his backpack as Y/N walked around the table and sat down.

"Nothing!" He squeaked out. She eyed him carefully but moved on. Her movements seemed a little nervous.

He did the deal as usual, but with Y/N they tend to talk about random shit to pass the time. The weed was placed in her backpack, but yet they talked for over an hour.

Her lips were over her water bottle as she sipped the rest of it. She groaned as she noticed there wasn't a lipstick mark, knowing her lips must have been uncoated for a while.

She dug into her backpack, scratching for the small black tube. She smiled once she grabbed it. She grabbed her small compact mirror and opened it.

Eddie watched mindlessly, letting her do her thing as he took in her features. He knew she was beautiful and he knew that she knew it too. The way her lips puckered out as she applied the red stick to her lips. WAIT! RED!

Eddie snatched the lipstick from her hand.

"Eddie what the fuck!"

He ignored her, he smeared the stick against his wrist, the red soaking his skin. The color was familiar and the texture of it was the same.

He smiled excitedly, he figured it out.

He couldn't handle his outburst. He jumped from his seat, disbelief on his face.

"ITS YOU!" He couldn't believe it. A cheerleader, no! Y/N! was writing him love notes.

"Huh?"

"THE NOTES!"

Y/N felt her face heat up, but denied.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" She snatched back her lipstick. She quickly threw it in her backpack but Eddie already had the stain on his skin.

He dug out the notes, flipping one over. The blank side faced him as he slid it over to her.

"Kiss it." He said he didn't care how crazy he sounded. This has been driving him crazy for weeks.

"I'm not kissing a piece of paper." She argued

"Just DO IT!"

She slouched and grabbed the paper. Embarrassed she pressed her lips against the paper. Something she's done countless times, but now in front of him feels so stupid. Why did she think this was a good idea?

Eddie sat down, more calm as he grabbed the paper and matched it with the others.

"It's you."

"Yeah! You've said that!" Y/N snapped. She was panicking. He hasn't said anything but "it's you!" Over and over. Was he happy it was her? Mad? Disappointed? She couldn't tell and it was making her nervous.

"But why?" He asked. The confusion was clear on his face.

"What do you mean why? Why do people send love notes, Munson." She said in a duh tone. She didn't like being played with.

"Well if you like someone! But that's not the case here, so why?" Now that he knew who it was, he couldn't help but feel stung. It was a cheerleader, and he stands by no cheerleader liking him. It must have been a joke with the team or a joke with Jason.

He was hurt by it. He thought they had a small friendship. He liked talking to her and it seemed like she enjoyed being around him too. She didn't run away after the deal, she didn't look over her shoulder in a panic if anyone saw.

Y/N sighed and decided to make another move. She got up and moved to sit next to him. She was nervous, but he probably was even worse.

"I do like you." She admitted quietly, she wasn't sure if he heard it. She barely heard it herself.

"We talk every week...why did you never say anything?" He asked

"I was scared!" She laughed, "I didn't want you to laugh in my face. I know you hate the popular kids and you hate my friends. I was scared you hated me too."

He moved his hand down to his lap, her hand inches away on the bench. He took a deep breath and slowly slid his hand over. His pinky hits hers.

"I like you too. I mean it's hard for me to believe you do like me and this isn't a prank. But I also feel like that's not something you'd do." He explained. "I'm really happy it was you."

He could feel her body perch up, a big smile on her face as she turned her head to look at him.

"Really? Happy?" She asked, he turned his head to match her.

"Mhhm! I always thought you were beautiful. But I don't recall you ever wearing red lipstick on our deals so I didn't exactly expect it to be you."

"I didn't. I barely wear it, only when I usually do the notes. But I guess I was hoping if I slipped up, you'd notice." She admitted

They sat in silence for a moment, just looking at each other. That's when she noticed how close they were. His pinky was still against hers, their shoulders practically touching.

"Can I kiss you, Eddie Munson?" She asked, her heart pounding.

Eddie has never heard those words in his life. He had a first kiss, but it was on a dare and the girl ran away after. He still remembers how sad he was. But now he had a gorgeous girl wanting to kiss him.

"Yes" he breathed, his heart raced as she leaned in. His cheek burned as her hand held it softly. He's never had someone touch him so delicately. Like he was something special you'd be careful with.

Time froze when her lips touched his. He wasn't sure what to do at first, his hand slowly moved to her thigh, resting his palm against her bare skin as he tried to kiss back. He's seen it in movies, and he's heard his friends talk about it. But he's never heard anyone talk about how amazing he felt. He'd never heard anyone talk about the way his body tingled, the way he felt like he wanted to giggle and scream. He's never heard anyone talk about the pure feeling of happiness and desire running through their body.

But maybe that's because no one kissed her

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x cheerleader #ashwhowrites

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nirvanawrites111 · 6 months

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Set My Wings on Fire (DPR Ian x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You're smitten by the love of your life, Christian Yu and he's being painted as a dangerous person. But, you don't care cause that's your man and you're going to stick beside him. You're pretty much in love with a villain, but he's super sweet to you. Non-celebrity AU.

Pairing: DPR Ian x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2024

Warnings: Smut, PIV, oral sex (male rec), mentions of murder, praise kink, good girl, unprotected sex, creampie

This is part of a NEW SERIES called Duality. It's all about embracing switch!energy. Part 1 will be sub!reader and Part 2 will be dom!reader. Some of the stories will be 2 idols x reader, and some will be just 1 on 1.

Smut below the cut.

"You need to leave him alone," Your best friend voices as they stare at the large television on your wall. The dim glow casts a shadow across your living room.

You press your lips together and cross your arms. A tightness crawls up your chest. This is the last thing you want to hear right now. You are tired of hearing this comment right now. You feel around your couch for the remote. You can't bother to listen to the news channel any longer.

"Look," you begin, forcing yourself to meet their gaze. "I know Christian very well. The media is trying to make up stories about him. He's not the monster they're making him out to be," You speak up and express your feelings. You twist his ring that he gave you a year ago, and you decide to wear it as a necklace.

You know Christian better than anyone. Everything he does has a meaning and purpose behind it.

You stare at the image of his picture plastered on the television. His usual neat dark brown hair is a mess, and his eyeliner is smeared. Underneath his picture are large red letters "WANTED" that contrast against his pale complexion. Sure, he might seem dangerous to someone else, but to you, something magnetizes you to him.

"The man is a killer, Y/n. If he comes here, you need to turn him in. You don't want to go to jail for housing a fugitive, do you?"

"He isn't a killer. I don't care what the media is saying."

You pick up your phone off the couch table and see that he texted you five minutes ago that he was on his way. You quickly text back and tell him to wait until your best friend leaves.

"This man has brainwashed you. Hopefully, you realize the truth before it's too late." Your best friend raises their hands in defeat and stands up. "I gotta go. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"He's not, but thanks for stopping by," you reply, trying to smooth things.

Your friend stands up and hugs you. You're glad they are leaving. There is nothing that will convince you that Christian is a bad person. Even with everything you know about him, you would never turn on him.

You walk with them to your front door, and the soft patter of your bare feet echoes against the polished hardwood floor.

Once they leave you close the door only to be slightly pushed open, revealing Christian.

There he is.

The only man that can make you melt to your knees. You want nothing more than to feel his hands all over you.

"Beautiful," Christian, your accented lover, whispers your favorite nickname. He steps into your home. His words allow you to fall to your knees and please your man. But, you don't want to act too thirsty.

He removes his hood with both hands and reveals his hair in messy, shoulder-length loose curls. The two of you stand in your foyer, and your eyes connect.

Christian has such a dark energy around him that it attracts you to him for whatever reason. It pulls you in so closely, like a moth to a flame. Regardless of what others say, you can still see the good in him. He's been nothing but kind, patient, and loving to you. So, really, that's all that matters to you.

"Are you okay?" You ask him.

Christian removes his sweatshirt, and your eyes trace over his tattoos. You run your hand over the one tattoo over his heart, your name.

"I'm so much better, now that I'm with you."

"I'm sure you know they're looking for you."

"I know," Christian sighs. "I'm also wanted for something. What is it this time?"

"Murder."

Christian stares into your eyes, and he can heart your heart beating fast. No one has ever cared about him more than you. Your unwavering loyalty is something he's searched for many years. Now, he's found exactly what he needs within you.

"Do you think I'm guilty?" Christian asks you.

"No, but if you did it, I know there was a reason."

"Good girl. You know your man oh too well," Christian praises you. He knows it's exactly what you need to hear in this moment.

Your lips curl into a smile, and you haven't looked away from him. He knows that nothing about him scares you. He's told you his deepest, darkest secrets. Because he knows he can trust you.

"I do. My best friend was just running their mouth talking about how I need to leave you alone. But, they don't know you like I do."

"Do you need me to handle that?"

"No, never that."

"We have some catching up to do. Don't we, angel?"

"Yes."

***

You turn on the shower and step into it first. Christian follows behind you. He presses you against the shower wall from behind. "My angel.. so pure. So innocent," he whispers into your ear.

Christian runs his hand down your back, enough to give you chills. You've missed feeling his touch against your skin.

"You know I'm far from innocent."

"Compared to me. You're a saint."

Christian attacks your neck with kisses. This instantly sends a warmth throughout your body. You've missed the way his lips feel against your skin. You don't care what happens when he's out of your sight. Because this man adores you, he'd do anything to protect you.

"Sweetness, tell me.." Christian pulls away from you and turns you around to face him. His gaze penetrates your eyes, searching for something unspoken. "Do you really love me?"

His eyes are full of emotions, and you can see the pureness in his question. But, at the same time, why would he question you this way? You've always supported him no matter what.

"Of course, I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"Even if I had to leave you for a bit?"

Your breath quickens, and you can feel your stomach churn. Is he going to up and leave you? Does this mean he's going to end things with you?

"Where are you going?" You twist your necklace.

Christian picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist as the warm water cascades down the two of you.

"I'm not sure. But, I'm leaving in 48 hours."

"Because of what I saw on the news?" You try to piece everything together. Did this mean that it was true? You didn't want to ask him what happened because you trusted him.

He promised you he would never do anything that would jeopardize his time with you. He stated that from the beginning. But, now, it felt like things were going differently.

"Yes."

"I'm coming with you."

"Hell no. I will get this sorted out. I will come back for you."

"No, I'm coming with you."

"Angel?"

"Yes."

"Don't I always come back for you?"

"Yes.. but."

"No, buts. Listen, you have to trust me. I will come back for you, okay?"

You nod. But, your fear is he's going to leave you.

"Angel, don't look so sad. I wish I could take you with me. It's going to pain me to leave you."

"Well let me taste you for the last time."

"Of course, angel."

Christian releases from his arms, and you get down on your knees. You look up at him.

He strokes your face and looks at you in such a loving way.

You hold your hands behind your back and swirl your tongue around his dick until he's halfway in your mouth.

You hum your favorite song and move your mouth up and down his length. This could be the last time you taste him, so you want to savor the moment.

You close your eyes and move faster and hear him moan. You love hearing him vocalize his satisfaction for you.

"Go deeper for me, angel," Christian instructs you, and you have no problem following instructions.

You take him deeper into your mouth, and he cradles the back of your head. He's moving with you to the point where you two are rocking as one.

At this moment, you are breathing through your nose because you only want to please him. You live to serve him. You are hopelessly devoted to him.

"Fuck.. just like this," Christian groans. "Don't stop, angel. God, you're so beautiful like this."

"Mmmhm," you barely manage to say because you have your mouth full and wouldn't want to have it any other way. Tonight has to count and hold you over.

"No one else can suck me the way you do. You're so amazing, angel," Christian continues to praise you, which encourages you to keep going because you know he's so close.

"You want this nut don't you?"

You nod without missing a beat, and both of his hands are on the back of your head. He's practically fucking your throat at this point.

He cums down your throat, and you swallow all of it.

Christian pulls you up to kiss you. He slips his tongue into your mouth and kisses you. As the kiss deepens, you can't help but run your fingers along your pussy only to find that it are dripping for him.

"Thank you for that amazing blow job, angel. You're always amazing."

"No problem."

Christian wraps his arms around you. "Mhmm.. I'm ready to feel all of you now. You want that, baby?"

"Yess.."

"How do you want me?"

"From behind.. like this." You turn around, place your hands against the shower wall, and arch your back.

Christian places his hand against your lower back and moves his dick along your entrance. "You know I love taking you from behind. Do you want me here or do you want back door."

"Here.. I want to feel you deep inside me. I prefer anal when I'm pegging you."

Christian kisses on the side of your neck. "I know baby.. next time when I come home. We can celebrate with pegging." He sucks on your neck and inches himself into you.

Feeling him inside of you feels like home. There's nothing like having him deep inside of you.

"You're so tight for me, angel," Christian whispers against your neck, kissing gently against the spot he just sucked on.

You moan out his name and enjoy him being inside of you again.

The feeling is euphoric, and you get lost in the moment of being one with your lover again. His hands cover and clasps with yours as he strokes into you.

You hope you celebrate with him, but you want to enjoy this moment. You arch your back a little more as he increases the pace. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure throughout your body. It feels too good. You deserve to experience this type of heaven on earth.

Christian holds you in place as he slows down with each backshot he gives you, and he reaches from behind and runs his hand down the front of your love nest. He moves to your clit and strokes it.

"Yesss, baby! I love when you rub my clit," you moan out.

"I know you do." Christian continues to rub it while you tighten around his dick. "My baby is close. Are you going to cum on my dick?"

"Mmhmm," you moan. But, at the point, you're already trembling from the combination of his teasing your clit and being buried inside you. The sensation is perfect. It's a feeling that never gets old. No matter how many times he gives you an orgasm, it always feels as good as the first time.

"So, be a good girl and cum for me."

"That's it.. baby. Cum on dick." He instructs you and talks you through it. You obey him easily. You release onto his dick. He's right there with you as he pumps into you until he cums inside you.

"Mmm.. thank you, baby," you say, trying to catch your breath.

"No, thank you angel. You were wonderful as always. I can't wait to celebrate with you when I come back."

If you enjoyed this please reblog. It helps other find my work.

Part 2

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c0ffinshit · 6 months

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I Can See You (11th Doctor x Reader) Smut Oneshot

a/n: welcome to the first part of my short story collection called “The Doctor Will See You Now.” i hope you all as excited as i am! word count: 3,833 warnings: teachers au, fluff, soulmate au (if you squint), little dialogue, age gap, mentions of sex and masturbation before the smut, praise kink, vanilla cunnilingus

"And we kept everything professional, but something's changed, it's something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it's best that we move fast and keep quiet." - Taylor Swift

1956, somewhere towards the tail end of England, a doctor sits at his desk, looking over at the same pieces of papers. Homework from his first batch of classes. He puts his hands on his face. Sure, every teacher should be worried about the brilliance of their students. But that wasn’t what he was worried about. He was apprehensive about his newly hired teaching assistant, (Y/N) (L/N).

He thought you were a bright young woman, keeping your hair neat and all your clothes clean and ironed. He always wanted to keep his distance from you. So he doesn’t repeat what happened with his past teaching assistant. The Doctor wanted a clean record. He pushes away from his desk in his chair, finally getting ready to go home. But his mind began to wander.

Earlier in the day, you spoke with him about a future project, seeing who would be willing to participate and pass it. When the end of the conversation came to a head, you giggled at one of his attempts at a joke. You pull at your skirt a little. He notices more of your thigh, including a small accidental flash of your undergarments. It just happened. He didn’t want to make you more nervous than you seemed, so he didn’t speak to anyone about it. A secret he could have all to himself. Something to ruin with his own sick and twisted imagination. Innocent, turned dirty by his own hand.

You sat alone in your apartment, as you always did. There wasn’t much to do when all you could do was think about that Doctor. His smile, the way his eyes would focus on you when you spoke. It was always those little things that drove you mad about him. You began to wonder what he thought of you. Did he think you were pretty? Did he want you to wear shorter skirts again?

You thought about spying on your neighbors again.

You pull the blanket closer to your chest as you get up and listen to your neighbors, an older married couple. Typically, you would study them silently, a cup to the wall, taking notes of everything they did together. Tonight wasn’t any different. The wife was cooking dinner for him, kissing and making one another laugh. Them being as intimate as you imagined yourself with the Doctor.

A few months before you met him, you studied day and night. Your dream of working at a college was on the horizon. When the day finally came, you walked up to the stage and accepted your fate as an English professor. As you looked for jobs, your heart began to sink deeper and deeper into your chest. It didn’t seem like anyone was looking to hire a fresh-out-of-college English teacher anywhere.

Suddenly, you find a job at a college as a teaching assistant. An assistant? You went to school for six years, and the only job available at a college was a teaching assistant. With a defeated sigh, you called the college and scheduled an interview. After said interview, it took them a few days to finally get back to you about the job. Once you opened your mailbox for the fourth time that week, a letter accepting you into their system greeted you. It contains the usual things, even saying you would be working with the Doctor, the most respectable man in the institution’s history.

The Doctor quietly shut the door of his pearl-white car. After hopping from century to decade to millennium, he thought it would be time to slow down and get serious about what he wanted. Sex wasn’t crucial, but the Doctor wanted something to call his own. Having a lover in his life wasn’t that important either, but he wanted you more than anything. The Doctor never wanted someone that bad before. He was tired of running, walking, and time-traveling. A hot cup of tea and you were all he needed.

The key turns with his hand, turning the car on with a small ding. He wanted to go anywhere but back to the TARDIS. The TARDIS was lonely and quiet, filled with knobs and future technology. The only other place he knew was your apartment. Your apartment had old books, statues of pilgrim girls, and a TV that didn’t have many channels. The place smelled of old wax long melted away, and cracks in the plaster lined almost every wall. Your apartment felt like it could cave in at a moment’s notice. But in his mind, he would rather spend the rest of his night in a place with thin walls and the same few reruns on the same few channels than a place he called home for so many years.

So that settles it. The Doctor backs out of his spot in the large parking lot, turning left towards the exit gate.

You had actually met the Doctor long before you had ever realized. When you were in your later high school years, the new science teacher had gone missing a few days before the school was set to open for classes. The Doctor had been on his own for a while by this point. Amelia and Rory had died at the dreadful hands of a weeping angel, unable to enjoy any of his new misadventures. Before Clara, the Doctor knew that the absence of Rory and Amelia would send him down a path of risky choices and, ultimately, his own new pain to heal, as a fresh wound would cross over a scar. In almost a manic state, he thought he could pull off being a high school teacher. But not any teacher, your new science teacher. A part of him thought this would be an easy way to find a new companion one way or another. Whether it be a teacher looking for a new way to spice up their life or a young woman looking for a new boy to fawn over. The Doctor was a shoo-in for the job with mature teaching ability but with a kind, funnier side, keeping the topics of biology and chemistry light with jokes and foxy comments.

One of the few things he remembers about that year was when you talked to your friends. Quiet whispers during class would quickly become loud, bombastic laughter the minute the bell rang. He only listened when the conversation would turn to your secret crush on him. Your friends nudged you during group work whenever his eye lingered on you. The way they giggled when he made a vaguely inappropriate joke. But that was your friends; you were a different story. It was clear to him that you were smart, just purposely failing for one reason or another. Whenever he would pull you aside to speak about it, your eyes would glaze over as you watched his eyes sink into yours. The minute the conversation ended, you would run off to hide until your next class. You wondered why you couldn’t be normal about him. The Doctor was two years older than you, or so he said. But it could be that wrong, could it?

Your hands continued to pull up the blanket, pulling it over your head. At this point, you didn’t want to be reminded how much you desired the Doctor. How badly you wanted him to wrap his arms around you or whisper sweet nothing to you as your eyes fluttered shut. Still, you can’t help but listen. The couple is eating dinner peacefully, talking about their days at work. But out of your window, you see the Doctor’s car pull up just outside your building.

As he finally pulls up to your apartment building, he sees you with your orange blanket over your head, leaning against the wall. The Doctor glances up, watching you and thinking about the massive mistake he is making. The wind pushes his hair out of his face.

‘This can’t be the right thing to do.’ He thought as he opened the car door anyway. He continues looking up. That’s when your eyes meet his. You move away from the wall and walk to the window, looking down at him.

Panic sets in. As if you had summoned him using your mind into your apartment’s parking lot. The second you look back out the window, the Doctor is gone. The panic feeling suddenly gets worse. You sit back down on the couch, trying to avoid the future sound of a doorbell ringing. Your ears lead back to your neighbors, still eating and laughing.

Your doorbell buzzes, followed shortly by another buzz. The last thing you needed was a big, grand scene in your loud apartment building. The Doctor stands outside your door, waiting. He thought about how impatient he would be if this were any other person. If there’s one thing the Doctor knew about being alive, it was that time moved so much slower than ever. But as he thought, the Doctor realized the faint feeling of calm whenever he thought about you. That’s why he could never get mad at you for not answering the door. The two hearts in his chest beat like one. As the Doctor fidgeted with his fingers, soft rain crawled against the glass of your window, still not letting the poor man in.

‘This is a bad idea, right?’ The Doctor thinks as he opens the door to your apartment building and walks up each step.

The Doctor knocks on the door, waiting for you to answer. It's not like he can leave you after scaring you like that. The Doctor almost doubts you will answer the door, leaving him in his soaking wet clothes. He shakes his head. You are one of the sweetest people the Doctor has ever known. In his mind, you are the reason he kept running. Not to save the world across multiple timelines with different companions each time, shedding his skin every so often. But to find you every time, in every universe, and in the same apartment building.

You look over to the door again, still thinking about opening it. The series of unfortunate events goes as follows in your mind: You get up from the couch and open the door to the Doctor just awkwardly standing there; the two of you break out into a conversation about what he happens to be doing at your apartment on a Saturday night after work, he proclaims his love for you and you, out of fear, reject him. The Doctor goes on a big rant about how you should really give him a chance. But by this point, you can only hear your heart beating, so you slam the door in his face.

I mean, isn’t that the way it always goes?

Sure, you did actually like him, but it was not like you were planning on telling him anytime soon. It's not like you feared his reaction; the Doctor isn’t exactly at the top of the scariest individuals ever. And yet, your legs pick up for your body from the couch and walk over the door. You place your hand gingerly on the doorknob, turning it slowly.

‘This is a bad idea, right?’ You think as you open the door.

Upon opening the door, the Doctor’s head pops his head up. He smiles. You try to avoid his gaze, unlike how you did when you were a schoolgirl.

"Fancy seeing you here." You mumble.

The Doctor’s hand twitches as he hears you speak. It felt so good hearing your voice again, even though he had heard it earlier that day. You shyly look up, still avoiding direct eye contact. The Doctor’s eyes softly as he sees you look up. He could sense how nervous you were, but he wanted to tell you he wasn’t there to hurt you. In his arms, he would make everything feel good. "Listen, um," The Doctor started, trying to keep his thoughts in one place.

"I wanted to come here and say…" The Doctor’s voice trails off. He doesn’t know how to put this.

"You love me?" You reply, trying to keep your voice down.

The Doctor didn’t think it would be that clear that the feeling was that obvious. It didn’t help how you said it, so matter-of-fact, which you didn’t detect. Maybe you did know that you pulled your skirt as a sign of flirting.

That part was valid that, over time, you had been flirting with the idea of being with the Doctor. Including playing with your skirt when you knew he was looking. Sure, you did other things to get him to notice you, like wearing makeup to highlight your eyes or shorter skirts and tight shirts.

But he never bothered to actually flirt with you. It could’ve been possible that he thought you had a partner or, god forbid, you were married. You had never told him about such people because you had none to speak of. No lover to call your own.

"Um, yeah, something like that." He laughs awkwardly.

Your face flushed with the red hue of your blood, and your heart started beating faster. You thought you were going to die. Your eyes meet his. This has never happened before. A new feeling washes over you.

Love. No longer an innocent, flirty crush. He felt like a lover at that moment. You grab his face and pull him into a passionate kiss, dropping your orange blanket onto the carpet floor of the hallway. His lips were soft, although a bit wet. Meanwhile, the night sky became darker, and rain began to fall, hitting against your windows. The winds outside, once soft and free, became harsh and fast.

You pull him into your apartment, careful not to trip over or break anything. Your kiss was like that as well; it was unbreakable and wistful. You wanted him more than anything at that moment. He pulled away for a second and uttered the words you dreamed about hearing: "I want you."

The Doctor said he wanted you. Something just clicked in your head. Nothing was holding you back at this point. You begin to untie his iconic bowtie and unbutton his shirt, his tan blazer falling to the floor. The Doctor told himself to remain calm and sensual. One of the many things that made you squirm in your seat and have a slight blush on your cheeks was when he remained mysterious and alluring. That was the only thing that was a constant. He grabs your hips and pulls you closer to him, his nose ghosting over your neck.

You, on the other hand, didn’t care what he did. As long as your hands were on his body and vice versa, the rest didn’t matter. The last thing that mattered was staying calm. The Doctor lets out a soft moan. You place your body back on the couch again, looking at the man you’ve been craving all this time. He loved that your eyes flickered like a candle in the wind. Your body moved in a way that was borderline pornographic, slowly moving from side to side. He notices this and moves on top of you, his knee closer to your heat. It’s like he knew your body in and out, predicting your every move.

‘Gently, now.’ He thought as his hands moved closer to the side of your breasts, cupping them in his bony hands.

Your cunt twitches at the feeling. The Doctor held you like you were a wine glass. Which, in his mind, was the only way to touch you. He may have only known you for a few months; he wasn’t ready to let you leave his touch yet.

After all, he’s the only Time Lord left. He’s had so many companions that, after a while, it became hard to keep track of. After falling in love with so many different people, it felt impossible to feel that kind of love again. Then, he was in 1951, in the middle of a busy high school hallway, struggling to find himself or where his room was. A lovely young woman walks by, struggling to hold her books. The Doctor locks eyes with her and asks her the time. She replies: “1:30.” That was when the Doctor finally knew he was in the right place, at the right time.

The Doctor moves down to the neck, planting gentle kisses as he moves. You let out a soft moan, careful to make your neighbor not hear. Your mother always told you to settle down soon and have a husband to care for you. To be frank, she wasn’t clear about the husband part. Sometimes, a husband is an extraterrestrial from a distant planet, most likely older than one thousand years old.

"Please," you beg softly.

"Are you sure?" He asks, knowing he might regret it if you say no.

You nod your head.

He nods back.

The Doctor crawls down your body, taking in every part of you. Your biceps were held neatly above your head, and your breathing got heavier the lower he went. He positioned one knee on the plush carpeted floor. The Doctor's breathing slowed as the Doctor went under your nightdress.

The Doctor hooks your panties and pulls them down, exposing your wet pussy. He unthinkingly pockets the underwear, letting a part of the soft cotton peek out as a reminder of you. Taking a finger, the Doctor gently flicks under the hood of your clit. As you can imagine, sex isn’t something the Doctor doesn’t get to have often, so he is a bit rusty. He could feel his two hearts beat with every soft flick of his finger. Your body twitches for a second, praying for more contact. He suddenly got the idea to slip a single finger inside of you. Even the thought of the moans you would let out made his already hard dick almost painful.

"I’m going to put a single finger inside you, okay?" He stated, "If you don’t like it, tell me, okay?"

"Yes," You say softly.

"Yes, what?" The Doctor repeats.

You think for a moment. "Yes, Doctor."

He smirks, "Good girl."

His fingertip touches the wet walls of your cunt. His middle finger gently pushes against your G-spot, making you whimper.

‘She wants more.’

Of course, being the lovely Doctor, he continues to nurse your G-spot but starts to kiss your inner thighs. His lips were a faint red and slick with spit. Teasing was one of the many things he wanted to try, but he never found the right partner. He understood that this is what you needed. You felt so pent up with sexual frustration. Year after year, you felt more disappointed with the partners in your life, sexually speaking. And yet the Doctor, after knowing you for so little time, could read your body like a book. Through desperation, the Doctor managed to undo his tight belt and unzip his beige dress pants with his free hand. He starts to palm his cock through his boxers as he continues.

"Please…more." She whines, getting tired of all the teasing.

He chuckles, "Sorry, I got carried away. Don’t worry, I’ve got you."

The Doctor thrusts his ring finger inside, plunging slightly into your canal. As he glances down at your poor, throbbing clit, he notes that it looks like a pink pearl inside of an oyster. He places a gentle kiss on it and mumbles something inaudible. Your back suddenly arches up as the waves of pleasure carry over you again. Honestly, you hadn’t felt anything like it before. It almost felt inhuman. The whimpers were now replaced with a slightly louder moan. You start slowly grinding at the air, hoping for any contact with him. His touch on your clit was all you could think about.

"That’s it, good girl. God, you deserve this more than anyone right now." The Doctor says. The Doctor continues to work on your clit, starting with soft cat-like licks. His hands ran slowly up your calves.

This was it. The moment the Doctor had been waiting for, the moment to be close to you. It was never how he imagined it, but honestly, he would have cared less. To run his hands up your legs as the Doctor continued to tease you felt like something the Doctor would come up with on a boring night in the TARDIS. It reminds him of all the times he daydreams about unbuttoning those perfect blouses you always wore when there was an important meeting you have to attend. Sure, those types of daydreams were few and far between. It didn’t stop his sick imagination much from thinking about it anyway whenever you got just a little too close to his face.

You could hardly contain every moan or groan that came out of your body. It felt involuntary. Your soft hands move down and grab a part of the Doctor's luscious dark brown hair. The desire for him to be rougher with you was growing stronger by the minute. Sure, being romantic and sensual is always an idea you love. But this is the Doctor. Everything is different with him. With the Doctor, the romance could be thrown aside if he wants. If he wants to tie you up and degrade you, you are willing to buy the rope and let your eyes roll into the back of your skull for pleasure.

"More," you encourage, "Don’t be scared. I don’t bite."

The Doctor’s eyes look up at you, meeting your eyes.

Your eyes seemly convey everything he thought about on the humble drive over. The emphatic love you two have been feeling, along with the unchecked sexual tension the two of you also have. The Doctor went from soft and cat-like to expansive and slow. He relaxes the back of his tongue against your clit and moans, his delicate eyes still looking up at you.

The sense of human eye contact can be used in many ways. And it is clear that as your eyes start to flutter, you are closing in on your climax. The Doctor knows that he has to keep an invariant pace so as not to lose the orgasm. Most people would describe a good peak as “seeing stars” or “leg shaking.” Yours, however, was more like seeing a whole nebula and jittering. As the spasm came and went, your vision went from blurry to clear in seconds. You sit up on the couch, looking down at a kneeing Doctor.

Touching his cheek with your hand, the Doctor smiles, grazing his smile against it.

Your eyes go wide at a sudden realization, "Doctor, you didn’t–"

Before you can finish your sentence, the Doctor sits next to you on the couch.

"That’s not what matters. What matters is that you did." He spreads his arms out, pulling you into a hug. You roll your eyes jokingly and hug him back.

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