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blkkizzat · 8 months

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ღ 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞!𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 ღ

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐨𝐟 𝟐 (part 1)

18+ONLY MDNI

kizzatober series: Smooth Criminals

Kinktober Prompts: Clothed Male/Naked Female, Thigh Riding, Knife Play Synopsis: The university campus is being terrorized by a copycat Ghostface killer. As a popular sorority girl with a dumb jock bf, you are a prime choice to be his next victim especially given how he can't stop thinking about you. But you're no ordinary Sorority Girl bimbo, now are you? CW: AU college fic. blood obsession/hematolagnia, bimbo reader, murder, slight DV/SA mentions (from your npc jerk ass bf), unprotected sex, masturbation, LOTS of teasing/foreplay, slight age gap (roughly 21 vs 28) and dark content. NOTE: If death/killer romanticization related shit triggers you this is probably a fic to avoid because that is happening all through this bitch. I literally wrote a murder fluff smut fic lmfao. WC: 9.9 of 15.4k Lightly black fem coded (reader is an AKA lmfao) but no descriptors.

A/N: I had no idea so many people would be this hyped for Part 2. No really, I'm shocked! But It gets real here peoples! Lots of smut and dark shit below so please read the content warnings! I don't want no crying in the mentions and DMs cause y'all should know how out of pocket I am by now and I took it there lmfao.

If you riding with me still Thank You for putting up with my OCD bullshit and for all the support, comments and reblogs on Part 1! y'all real asf & ilysm

Enjoy!

Previously:

“Whatever, let’s fucking go Y/N. We have an important party to throw later.”

Dean grabs your wrist and jerks you away with you barely being able to grab your bag.

Your stomach twists and you are at a complete loss for words but manage to flash an apologetic look at Choso while you are dragged off.

However when your eyes meet he looks right through you.

The expression on his face is stone cold and it sends a chill up your spine.

☠

Sigh.

For the first time ever in your life you are miserable at a party.

To say you had been excited leading up to today would have been an understatement. The initiation party after rush was one of the biggest events in the greek system and you had led the charge this year in planning the party.

Nevertheless, any cheerful enthusiasm you held had been trampled on by the disaster that had taken place earlier in the day with Choso.

If getting out of going wouldn’t be more trouble than it was worth you would have faked being sick. It’s not like you hadn’t already stressed yourself into a headache.

Yet here you were suffering through, completely sober. Not even being able to bring yourself to drink away your problems.

How could you even pretend to enjoy yourself when your forced smile cracked as soon as the mental image of Choso’s icy expression looped through your mind?

Your chest got a little tighter each time you remembered and it frazzled your nerves.

Just about everyone and everything annoyed you right now.

Even the party: Hunter vs Hunted, one of your favorites, was soured.

Typically the theme entailed girls dressed up as various exotic animals or woodland creatures and the boys dressed as safari game hunters or woodsmen. But this time around, no thanks to singular frat boy hivemind, they all got the bright idea to collectively cosplay as Ghostface.

Taking a new meaning on Hunter.

They couldn’t carry knives on campus of course so they all carried around metal bats which they probably stole from the baseball team.

Sure, let’s all dress up as the masked serial killer while he is still on the loose.

You rolled your eyes.

The pilfered bats were a hazard waiting to happen too. You could only be thankful that the party was at Dean’s frat and not your own sorority so him and the rest of those idiots could fuck their own shit up once they inevitably got way too hammered and started swinging them around.

You mostly just wished they hadn’t changed the plan without telling you.

Then at least you could have dressed up in line with the horror theme and wouldn’t have had to wear this sexy Bambi costume which although skimpy, the fur parts made it way too hot to be wearing in a crowded party indoors.

On edge and not being able to leave, you did the next best thing and sequestered yourself in the kitchen pantry.

It was spacious and a lot cooler than the rest of the house.

You made yourself look busy in there by restocking snacks and making sure there was an ample supply of red cups ready to go around for the keg.

When someone did notice you tucked away, you gave the best fake smile you could muster and made-up an excuse not to join in on whatever drinking game they were playing promising you would ‘catch up in a minute.’

Fortunately for you, most of your friends and sorority sisters were a bit too faded by this point to notice you missing and never joining in.

Maybe a bit longer and you could slip out unnoticed?

That was your plan at least until you felt Dean throw an arm over you from behind.

“There you are babe!”

Urgh.

The overwhelming ick and nausea you felt from him touching you rivaled your worst hangover.

You immediately shrug him off.

“Come on babe don’t be like that. Get a freshman to take over. We're gonna play rage cage.”

You threw Dean a wary look.

You try to tell him you aren’t in the mood but of course your selfish dickhead of a boyfriend ignores you.

Dean then proceeds to pull your arm and lead you out of the pantry through the kitchen.

On a different day you probably would have just given in, easier to go along with the flow than cause an issue. Today however was different and the last thing in the world you wanted to do was play fucking rage cage with a bunch of horny frat boys who were just trying to get girls drunk enough to fuck.

“Goddamnit, Dean I said no!”

Your tolerance had boiled past its limits.

You forcibly snatch your hand back, knocking some empty bottles over on the counter in the process which come crashing down to the floor shattering into pieces.

Your words and movements dripped with so much aggression you surprised yourself, Dean and the people around you who had turned to see what the commotion was.

”No? No? You’re really telling me no Y/N? After you’ve been acting like a fuckin’ bitch all day since I crashed your make out session with that freak.”

Immediately self-conscious, your eyes darted around the crowd of people that had now turned their full attention toward you.

You hated confrontation and never wanted to be that couple fighting at a party.

Ducking down quickly, you begin to pick up the shattered pieces of bottled glass on the floor.

The pounding of your headache against your temples grew feverishly and the harsh fluorescent kitchen lights started to make you feel faint, you hoped Dean would just let this go if you backed down.

“Look, we’ll talk about that later, ok? Just please don’t be an asshole Dean, I really don’t feel good right now.”

You pleaded with him, quietly trying to quell the situation.

But true to his infamous asshole nature, Dean wasn’t going to let you off so easily. He wanted to humiliate you as he felt you humiliated him in front of his friends earlier with that nobody loser.

”Now, I’m the asshole?” Dean questioned to his frat brothers smugly.

“Hey, maybe I am for having a girlfriend like Y/N, who would slut herself out for a grade in front of the entire quad!”

Dean had all but yelled that last part out. Your drunken clown of a boyfriend didn’t care if he caused a scene at your expense.

Now you had the full attention of everyone in the kitchen.

You took a shaky breath as you stood up and felt the crunch of broken glass beneath your heels.

An unfamiliar sensation of rage rises within you.

It really wasn’t in your nature to be angry even when you were upset, you mostly just cried but now you were pissed to say the least.

He has some fucking nerve.

Especially when you knew no one starting on the football team studied at all and were all automatically passed through whatever easy bullshit major they signed up for.

“Dean–”

You start yet pause for a moment, trying to keep your cool.

“–you know how hard I study.”

Twisting the proverbial knife in your back to wind you up further Dean continued.

“Yeah, Y/N That's what’s so pathetic about it. You get Bs. That pussy ain’t even good enough for an A. I would know.”

Collective gasps, snickers and whispers arose from around the kitchen. Word had spread of your fighting as more people gathered in the doorway.

Typically this is where you would have run off crying. However, you were exhausted mentally and emotionally. You had already cried for a good hour today while getting ready.

The only emotions you had readily available to tap into was the hidden well of resentment and ire you held for Dean.

“And how would you even know what good pussy is Dean? You can’t last longer than two pumps, is it not all the same for you?”

You snapped back.

Your fists had formed into a tight ball.

You are so enraged you can’t even feel the prick from the broken glass bottle still in your hand puncturing your skin.

How long has it been since you stood up for yourself?

You can’t remember the last time you even fought with anyone like this but it felt good seeing the smug look on his face fall as his friends around him jeered and laughed.

“I know how to settle this Y/N.”

Dean mused as he yanked one of your sorority sisters nearby toward you.

“How ‘bout we ask Aaliyah then, eh? She got more than 2 pumps last weekend after you left the party to go chase after Ghostface–”

Your head snaps to your AKA sister in question, Aaliyah, who looked like she saw a cursed spirit as all the color drained from her face. Her eyes shamefully hit the floor before they met your gaze.

She couldn’t even look at you which only further solidified Dean’s accusations.

So Dean himself confirmed he’d been cheating on you? Cool.

With your own Sorority sister, who you considered one of your besties since you both rushed together?

Even better.

Blood slowly trickled out of your hand to drip on the floor from how rigidly you held onto the glass but the small red puddle went unnoticed as your whole vision was already saturated with the color red when you looked at Dean who hadn’t even finished his disrespectful tirade.

“–Although on second thought, it was probably an excuse for you to go suck off that loser freak TA of yours right?”

More heckles erupted from the crowd around you and you don’t think you have ever hated someone so much in your life as you hated Dean right at this moment.

Sure you were upset with Aaliyah but your fury was purely focused on Dean.

He had some nerve to start so much shit earlier over an almost-kiss when he was fucking your good friend behind your back.

“And how fucking out of her mind was she then, huh Dean? Would she even remember? You pathetic piece of shit...”

You get directly in his face.

“...that limp dick of yours fumbles orgasms like you fumble passes. That’s why we lost the big game last week. And guess what? That's also why we’re now OVER!”

Dean’s bulky build towers over you but he might as well have been 3 feet tall to you as the razor edge of your words eviscerate him.

“So who’s the fucking loser now Dean?”

Everyone in the room was stunned into silence by the venom dripping from someone they had never even heard raise their voice before.

You don't notice anyone else's reactions though as suddenly you became hyperaware of the large fractured piece of bottled glass cutting into you.

Your eyes flickered back to Dean as your hand twitches.

For a fleeting moment you felt an inkling urge to drive the glass in your hand directly into Dean’s smug ass face.

Yet whatever dark fury burned in you was instantly snuffed out as you felt a flood of cold bitter beer splash down on you from Dean’s red solo cup.

”Why don’t you cool off for a bit dear,” Dean cooed at you, mocking you and your now ruined Bambi costume as he and the frat boys around you started to roar with laughter.

That was it.

You were done.

Dean had succeeded in humiliating you.

Any contention or further will to fight within you had dissipated the moment you were doused in beer.

The glass in your hand drops onto the ground as a dull ache radiates from your wound that continues to seep blood onto the floor.

“I hope you realize this is the last time an AKA will grace this sorry ass frat for a party. I’ll see to that. Enjoy the rest of your night fellas!”

The icy air of your words contrasted with the perfect pageant smile you gave them and it unsettled those around you especially as they all notice the blood gushing from your hand.

The crowd immediately parts as you leave. No one dares utter a word to you as you exit the party through the side kitchen door.

You can feel your phone go off as you get a flurry of group texts and missed facetimes. Most of your sisters weren’t even in the kitchen to witness the scene.

You respond to the group chat to tell them just to stay and enjoy the party and turn your phone on ‘do not disturb.’

You just wanted to be alone.

You’d deal with the fallout tomorrow.

☠

Choso wore a twisted grin hidden under his Ghostface mask.

The hunter vs hunted party meant a perfect time for him to hunt.

Leaning against a building Choso was shrouded in the dark cover of shadows far removed from campus lights.

Old habits, he mused. There was really no need for him to hide at all tonight.

He could actually walk around openly as Ghostface now without causing alarm seeing as how most of those fraternity morons were dressed up like him tonight.

This made things even easier.

Choso scanned the area for his next prey.

Someone, anyone alone would do.

Choso had been itching to spill blood since he had the enticing inclination to slash your boyfriend’s throat earlier.

Currently he wanted nothing more than to see a violent geyser of blood spurt from his next victim. Having it be a shithead frat guy would only sweeten the kill so he had stalked close to frat row for his latest victim.

There.

Seeing movement in the distance, a lone figure, Choso cautiously advances trailing in the shadows towards them until they come into focus under the street lights.

He nearly does a double take when he recognizes it's you.

Shouldn’t Miss-Perfect-Social-Butterfly be having the time of her life right now with her cretins being crowned queen of the frats or something?

Choso thought bitterly.

That is, until he got a good look at you.

You were wet and shivering as you failed to sniff back the tears pouring down your face.

Despite his desire to stay angry with you, his jaw involuntarily clenches as he had never seen you this upset before.

Something had happened.

Choso confused look turns deadly as vision travels down to see you nursing the hand you cradled to your chest. He recognizes blood running down your forearm to stain your already soiled costume.

A territorial urge swelled within him, not knowing you had inflicted your own injury.

You were his prey.

It was unforgivable for someone else to spill what was his to enjoy.

Choso immediately concluded the cause of it was Dean.

Boyfriend or not he would gladly gut that motherfucker at the drop of a dime.

He hadn’t forgotten how roughly he had dragged you off earlier.

And more importantly how you had let that asswipe drag you off. That honestly had fired his temper more than anything.

A storm of conflicting feelings, Choso yearns to see more of your blood splattered on the ground as much as he secretly covets to have you writhing underneath him.

Should he approach you?

No. Not yet.

Although, he would never have a more perfect chance than now to kill you if he was ever actually going to go through with it.

Securing his knife on the inside of his robe, Choso silently propels himself after you.

Never falling too far behind, he vigilantly watches you from a distance as both your protector and predator.

☠

A warm shower was just what you needed but you were pissed you had to wash your hair 3 times to get the smell of Milwaukee's out, which proved insanely hard to do with one functioning hand.

You could have killed Dean.

No actually though, as you remembered the dark seething compulsion you felt.

You weren’t sure what had gotten into you earlier.

Pushing those thoughts to the side though you focused on the gash in your hand, it was pretty gnarly.

You were just thankful the first aid kid in your sorority house had enough gauze and tape until you could get to the campus nurse tomorrow.

You probably needed stitches as any sudden movements had the fragile skin of your palm bleeding again.

Returning to your room in a comfy pink cotton bra and thong you throw your towel over a chair.

You start to reach for your fluffy robe when you see Choso’s black track jacket on your desk. It still had the small coffee stains on it from earlier but you opted to slip into it anyway.

Truthfully, you lied to him.

You hadn’t just been carrying it around waiting to give it back to him.

You had worn it more times this past week than you would willingly admit to anyone.

You even took it on purpose instead of your actual jacket this morning not actually thinking you would run into Choso but when you had seen him, you knew you wanted him to see you in it.

With a sigh of frustration, you dove face first into the pillows of your bed as you curled into his jacket.

It was your only comfort at the moment.

Your mind wanders and you can’t help but think of how better a boyfriend Choso would have been to you.

Dean would never let you wear his jackets, no matter how cold you were. He said you were too air-headed and would ruin or lose it.

Not that he wasn’t right, you definitely were accident prone.

But that's why it had meant so much to you when Choso, not even your boyfriend, had given you his own without a second thought.

You only hoped he didn’t hate you now.

Not that you could blame him if he did.

Even you hated you a bit for even being with a jerk like Dean in the first place no matter how convenient you thought it had been for you.

How could you even face Choso in class next week?

Despite your heart crumpling when you thought of Choso’s cold intimidating gaze being cast upon you again, you admittedly had never seen a look that intense before from anyone.

It was also impossible to forget the ravenous look in his eyes when he was so close to kissing you.

He looked as if he would devour you whole.

God, everything about him was so sexy.

His strong jaw set firm, his eyes dark pools that sucked you in even from memory, his lean muscular body.

You wish you had realized how bad you had been crushing on him sooner. Before everything got so fucked up.

You fidgeted as an ache developed between your legs.

Turning your head to the side you used your bandaged hand to gently push his jacket collar into your face.

It still smelled like him despite how many times you’ve worn it this week and despite the faint smell of old coffee from earlier.

Squirming on your bed, you tried in vain to keep your legs from sliding against each other creating more friction as your body became increasingly hotter.

A shameless whine escaped your lips as you huffed his woody masculine scent in and out.

Your legs rubbed together more eagerly.

Shit, you were so horny.

Still laid flat on your belly you lifted your hips up for access as a manicured finger pressed into your clit toying with yourself from the outside of your pink cotton thong.

Choso was so meticulous, so knowledgeable in everything he did you were sure he knew how to make you cum.

You were desperate for him as you remembered what it felt like when he caught you from falling last week.

How good would his sculpted chest feel pressed into you now?

Would he look at you with the same want that flared across his features when he had gotten a glimpse of your panties you had intentionally put on display for him?

You didn’t miss how it matched the look he gave you when he nearly kissed.

“Choso…”

You moaned out loud.

You could feel the wet spot your teasing was earning you spread over your thong as your cunt continued to drool over your fantasies of him.

Craving more you lifted your ass up higher while your fingers fumbled to slide under the flimsy fabric.

“A-ahhh s-shit Cho– F-fuck!”

You panted as you sunk two fingers into your cunt. You worked to diligently pump them in and out of you as you pressing your palm down firmly over your swollen clit.

Your face buried itself deeper in his jacket as you gasped and your warm breath pushed back against you as you imagined it was his own tickling your neck.

All your senses screamed with want to be consumed by him and you pined for the feeling of his cock stretching your wet cunt instead of your slim fingers that weren’t cut out for the job.

“F-fuck C-Choso.. Mmm, let me cum.”

You practically sobbed when you glided a third finger into your pussy, two wasn’t enough to quell the craze that had overtaken you.

Ironically and unbeknownst to you, Choso (who had hidden himself in your closet during your shower), was mere moments away from losing his own goddamn mind.

Wholly entranced, he listened to you wantonly call for him like a sweet siren song and watched utterly fixated on the way you fiercely finger fucked your pussy like it was his own cock.

All the while in his jacket sniffing the sweaty soiled material like some filthy fucking pervert.

Fuck!

When he had followed you back to the sorority house he had finally resolved to kill you, but now he was at a standstill as there was no plausible way this was actually happening in front of him.

The obscene ASMR of your cunt sloshing rang in his ears and your legs quivered obscenely with you approaching your orgasm.

Your desperate thrusts caused his oversized jacket to ride up to your hips revealing the way your ass bare ass jiggled when you drove your hips down and pushed your digits up deeper into your core that waited greedily to suck them in.

You chanted out Choso’s name with urgency straining your voice as you climaxed. The bed creaked from you now humping the mattress while riding out your high.

Shit you were fucking sexy.

Thought you'd just been toying with him for fun all this time...

Until now.

Choso’s grip on his knife tightened as adrenaline surged through his body.

He could feel the blood pumping through his dick.

He wanted to fuck you.

Badly.

Give you what you’ve both been needing all this time.

Choso fully bricked, suppressed a hiss through clenched teeth as he palmed the bulge in his pants but remained otherwise still.

He can’t imagine a positive reaction if he burst out of your closet as Ghostface nor could he just take off his mask and pop out of your closet as your TA like he was some fucking creeper.

This was pure agony.

You never failed to find some way to unravel him.

Choso was so tense, his body coiled so tightly, he couldn't control his thigh involuntarily twitching and his knee recoiled against your closet door.

He cursed himself for the millionth time at the lack of control he had around you, he had never had to restrain himself so much around anyone else.

Ecstasy was etched on your features as you looked around puzzled from where the noise came from.

However, the even louder boom of the front door slamming shocked you out of your blissful daze and stole your attention away.

You sat up quickly and wondered if your sorority sisters were back already.

You glanced at the clock.

10:32 pm.

It was still much too early for them to leave.

But who else could it be?

You groaned and reluctantly hopped off the bed, zipping up Choso’s jacket fully to hide the slick between your legs and went out to greet them so you could avoid them coming into your room and return to your solitude as quickly as possible.

You were tired, frustrated and still horny as hell.

You only wanted make yourself cum hard enough you could fall asleep and end this miserable ass day.

☠

“Girls~! You really didn’t have to leave so early~!”

You call out to your sisters.

It was a little late for a show of solidarity if that's what they thought they were doing.

You rolled your eyes.

But it was eerily quiet as you received no response.

That’s odd.

Walking down the hall you froze once the view from the top floor opens into the foyer below and you see the front door wide open.

Not a single soul in sight or to be heard.

“Girls?”

Fight or flight senses kick into gear altering you to the possible dangers below.

You might be a bit of a ditz but you studied enough forensics and had seen enough scary movies to know how this shit usually ended.

You turn back to run to your room to call someone but stopped as you noticed your phone on the entryway table by the door.

Crap.

Steeling yourself you slowly inched your way towards the staircase, stopping at times to lean over the banister for any signs of someone.

“This isn’t funny girls! You know I’ve already had a really shitty night!”

But only the hollow sound of wind whipping through the door answered you as it swayed on its hinges.

This was an older house.

Maybe you didn’t close the door all the way in the beginning?

No one in your sorority house ever locked the doors, which now you considered probably wasn’t the greatest tradition to keep up while you were at home all alone and a serial killer was on the loose.

You crept down the stairs trying to silence any creaks as best you could.

“I swear on a stack of Vogues if this is a prank you all of you whores will all be on campus clean-up community service duty for the rest of the semester!”

Still nothing but silence as you reached the bottom of the staircase.

The lights were on in the entire house. From what you could tell the den and living room areas surrounding the foyer were empty.

You sighed. Maybe it was just the wind.

You close the door and this time make sure to lock it as you clutch your phone and turn to scamper back upstairs when you feel something grab at you from behind.

“Want to die Y/N?”

You let out a screech as you whip your around to see a figure you recognize as Ghostface reach for you as you stumble backwards into the den.

Tripping over your own feet, you fall back landing on your injured hand and knocking your head against the edge of a coffee table.

A roar of laughter erupts as you groan dazed from the floor.

“You really are a clumsy ditz, babe.”

Puzzled and near concussed, you blink through blurry vision to see Dean pull off the Ghostface mask as he crouches down to your level and leans on his metal bat tauntingly.

Pain blossoms sharply in the back of your head and you can feel the puncture wound on your hand open and saturate your bandage.

“The fuck are you doing here Dean?”

You glared up at him through your one good hand that covered your face as you struggle to get your bearings back.

You couldn’t catch a fucking break tonight.

“Still being a huge bitch even though I came all the way over here to say sorry, eh?”

Dean hummed, brow raised as he chuckled.

“I thought a little fright would put you in a good mood, Y/N.”

“Nice way of apologizing Dean. Insult me, scare me half to death and give me a concussion.”

You knew this man was not sorry at all.

Someone sober enough had probably informed Dean that you did have the power to essentially kill their fraternity’s social life, cucking his entire house for the foreseeable future. They likely sent him to make things right with you ASAP.

But even with all that on the line your tool of an ex was such a huge dick he couldn’t even do the bare minimum to give you a decent apology like an actual human being (not that you would have accepted it).

“I see I was right about one thing though.”

Dean got your attention as he pointed down at the moisture running down your legs.

You immediately pull Choso’s jacket down further to cover yourself.

You couldn’t give a fuck what he thought at this point. You’d confess to fucking the entire Forensics department if got him out of your face.

“Sure Dean, think what you want okay? Just fucking GET. OUT.”

You felt dizzy from the pressure thrumming in the back of your skull.

“Yeah and if I say no whore? Then what?”

Dean slid a clammy hand over your knee which sent another wave of nausea through you, your head spinning.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to stop his hand traveling lower before you suddenly noticed Dean’s body being ripped away from you entirely.

The scene that followed occurred in a whirlwind as your head felt like it would explode trying to focus on anything.

Your eyes strain to keep up with the action only registering fractions of it through your blurred vision.

You see…blood?

Is it yours?

No. It’s flowing from Dean’s shoulder.

Another person?

…Ghostface?

Yes.

Your double vision struggled to pinpoint exactly what was happening as Dean and the masked Ghostface fought for dominance, somehow ending up back in the foyer.

Dean was barely able to keep the large hunting knife from sinking into his chest.

Was this even real?

Were you really about to witness a Ghostface crime scene in action?

Were you next?

You felt like you were witnessing it all play out through someone else’s body as your mind floated off and you felt more disconnected.

Your awareness faded in and out.

There was no doubt, you definitely had a small concussion.

“Y/N!”

Your head snaps up as you finally hear Dean shouting your name although it sounded like you were in a fishbowl.

He had somehow gotten leverage and evened the odds with the killer as they both now had a hold of the blade’s handle.

“Y/N! Pay attention you ditzy ass bimbo! Don’t just sit there looking stupid, get the fucking bat.”

You scanned the floor around you.

Sure enough, there was the scuffed metal bat shining back at you resting by your knees.

Your injured hand grazes it and you see a red trail of blood smearing across it as the cool smooth metal soothes your ruptured skin.

“Y/N, what the fuck are you daydreaming about?! Get your ass over here!”

You grip the bat’s handle, ignoring the pain to use it and the coffee table as leverage to push you up off the floor.

You sway on your feet as your blood pressure drastically drops from standing too quickly.

Your head feels light.

Your body feels light.

Surprisingly too, even the large heavy metal bat now feels light in your injured palm.

“Fucking finally, Y/N!”

Dean yelled as he saw you on your feet.

“It’s not like I’m trying to fight off a killer here or anything dumb bitch.”

Dumb bitch?

Oh yeah, he means you.

God, Dean was fucking annoying you just wished he would shut up sometimes.

You couldn’t even think straight.

What were you doing again?

Right, the bat. He told you to bring it to him.

You wanted to sit down again. You were so tired.

You couldn't rest though as Dean’s voice was ringing in your ears.

You just wanted him to shut up more than anything so you willed yourself forward.

“Give Dean the bat, Give Dean the bat.”

You lowly repeated in a mantra like state.

Your vision was spotted with black dots swirling like the pain in your head.

GiveDeanthebatGiveDeanthebatGiveDeanthebat

You gripped the handle in both hands.

You were going to give Dean the bat.

“Y/N! Goddamn bitch move your lazy fuckin–”

C-R-A-C-K!

The slick sound ricochets throughout the entryway and reverberates in your ears.

C-R-A-C-K!

You feel warm droplets of moisture spray on you.

C-R-A-C-K!

The bat and Dean’s motionless body both simultaneously hit the floor with a thud.

You closed your eyes.

You felt… relief?

Like you could breathe again as the hazy veil that had shrouded your thoughts lifted and the throbbing in your head slowly receded.

You weren’t sure how to describe what you were feeling but it was some mix between euphoria, exhilaration and… freedom?

Well, you were finally free of Dean for good now.

You couldn’t help but be amused by that thought as you wiggle your toes in the warm red liquid that pooled around them.

A child-like giggle resounds from you.

Was this post nut kill clarity?

Catching a glimpse of yourself in the hallway mirror you noticed blood and chunks of brain matter strewn all over Choso’s jacket.

You wouldn’t be able to go without washing it now.

You frowned at the thought of his scent being washed away as well as you unzipped it, checking to see if the stains seeped through the lining too.

You had made such a mess.

Quick movements out of the corner of your eyes reminded you of the fact you were not alone.

The actual Ghostface killer stood mere feet away from you, his intentions clear as he visibly heaved and extended his knife out to the side approaching you.

You sighed exhausted.

“I’m not going to be able to blame this one on you, am I?”

Ghostface shook his head, confirming what you already knew.

☠

Choso felt his own adrenaline reach a frenzied peak.

He approached you with the animalistic stature of a predator who was sizing up another.

You were a killer now, no longer simply his prey.

Proving as much as eyes showed no remorse for the life you had taken.

Yet given what he had walked in on just minutes ago and how distraught you were leaving the party, there was nothing for to mourn anyway.

The only emotion your shown was concern for the on coming threat of him as you backed up to keep from his advances.

Heh, that could just as easily be him right now bleeding out on the floor.

He mused as he side stepped Dean’s body to stalk closer towards you.

Choso smirked, he was only disappointed he wasn’t the one to kill him.

Although he couldn’t deny how beautiful you looked creating your own work of art.

A bit abstract and not as precise as his own methods.

Nevertheless, Choso continues to be amazed by how his cute and clumsy little undergrad just showed him a darkness he had only previously recognized in himself.

Choso watches you back away until your ankles hit the bottom of the staircase.

Your feet and hands were slick with blood and you couldn’t find your footing on the steps nor support yourself on the railing so you were forced to scooch up the stairs.

Yet given your injury even that proved difficult for you.

What would he do with you now?

“W-We’re even right? You saved me, I saved you.”

You tried to bargain as you saw him crawl up the staircase after you.

Ghostface cocked his head to the side considering your words as he reached you and stopped your escape with a strong gloved hand digging into the flesh of your hip.

Ghostface suspended himself over you covering your frame entirely and his metallic blade glared in the light as if it would pierce into you at the slightest whim.

Were you going to die like this?

Despite the danger you couldn’t help but be a bit turned on.

Especially as Ghostface’s touch reminded you so much of–

“Did you get off on killing your boyfriend Y/N?”

Ghosface taunted, speaking for the first time.

“...or were you already this fucking wet from fantasizing about someone else, hm?”

Your eyes widened.

Your mind raced too fast to reach a succinct conclusion. But you were disappointed to hear a voice box distortion instead of the actual person's voice beneath the mask.

Your flurry of jumbled thoughts are paused when you feel the cool caresses of the flat metal side of his blade drag across the skin of your stomach leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Your chest heaved slowly with steady intensity as your breath shuddered.

“Are you turned on now Y/N?”

You look away from Ghostface as he taunts as you. You feel more self-conscious considering who you think is under the mask.

Just how fucked up was it you were turned on from murdering your boyfriend in cold blood to save a serial killer who might have been the guy you had just been masturbating to who was also the serial killer Ghostface and very likely about to kill you now?

Very.

Very fucked up was the answer.

You would have been ashamed if you could bring yourself to care.

Choso’s jerks your face back to him as the hand with the blade parts your legs.

The lust in your eyes and your drenched cunt were all the answers he needed.

“AHH!”

You cry out as you feel the smooth metal come down to slap your clothed pussy hard and slide against your lips.

You fight the urge to close your legs. You can’t or the sharpened edges of the knife would stab your thighs.

You bite your bottom lip to the point of drawing blood.

This does not go unnoticed by Choso as he brings his gloved hand to your lips to soothe the bite.

His soft leather covered thumb hooks past your lips to guide your mouth open, exploring your mouth as you openly moan.

“Tsk, Tsk, we can't have you breaking skin and wasting more of that pretty blood that belongs to me.”

You shiver at his words dripping in possessiveness and your mouth encloses around his thumb, sucking as your tongue still squirms under its pressure.

A strained hiss comes from Choso and his eyes roam down to admire the slime trail of sticky fluid your clothed cunt dripped his blade.

Before Choso can get a peak at your pussy your hands fly down to cover yourself.

Amused, Choso gently removes his hand from your mouth to palm your inner thigh as his thumb slick from your spit rubs circles into your flesh.

His coaxing has you spreading your legs wider as he brushes up against the hands covering your cunt.

“Show me Y/N.”

He breathed out.

You pouted and shook your head.

“Is my little slut a liar then? I recall you telling me you didn’t mind if I saw your panties.”

Your suspicions confirmed you gasped in realization but Choso could no longer control himself as his hunting knife returned to your body to trail up your stomach this time the pointy edge hovering over your soft skin.

Your stomach sucks in to create distance between the blade and your skin causing your chest to push up through your arms but it's exactly what Choso had wanted.

Whoosh

With a swift slash through the air his blade slices your bra in two and its straps fall back down your shoulders laying bare your breast and hardened nipples to the cool air.

Exposed, your hands instinctively move from you core to cover your tits.

You see Choso pull back from you to sit up fully.

No longer touching you as he opted to imprint into his memory the imagery of your wet puffed pussy glistening through the soaked and now nearly transparent thong which clung to your lower lips like second skin.

He shifted his mask as the voice box moved from over this mouth.

“Y/N” he sighed.

Hearing his actual voice had you whining with need again.

Choso couldn’t keep his hands off you for long as he grasped hold of your thong and slipped his fingers between the fabric covering your cunt.

Choso rubbed the sticky moisture on the thin fabric between his thumb and forefingers while his knuckles bullied into your clit, causing your toes to curl.

“Mmm C-Choso.”

Your hands went from simply covering your tits to messaging them, pulling on your nipples, as you couldn’t hold back the sounds from the pleasure you felt from him touching you.

Shit. He wanted to ruin you.

Choso’s knife returns to your throat applying soft pressure dangerously close to breaking skin.

“So tell me what you want then, Y/N?”

Choso knew you wanted him but he wanted you to say it.

He needed you to admit it to him outright before he could really believe it.

His knuckles had stopped teasing your clit and your body trembled as you bucked your hips into his hand and pouted.

“I want you to hurry up and decide if you’re going to fuck me or kill me before my sorority sisters get back Choso!”

Choso smirked under the mask.

Becoming a killer turned you into a bit of a brat.

But he knew how to handle you.

Heh, fair enough.

Driving the knife into the staircase behind your head he pulls you up, swapping positions and seating you on his thigh.

He pulls his soiled track jacket off of you and you shiver as the cold air hits your back.

“Mm, Fuck me Choso”

You sighed longingly, arms encircling his neck.

“Mm, Should I though?”

Choso questions out loud as you melt deeper into him from his hands roaming your body.

One settles on your hip under the band of your thong and the other peels you back by your hair so Choso can see your eyes blown out fully with lust.

“Or should I make you wait like I’ve been waiting ever since you first stumbled into class in that slutty green skirt?”

You cried out and our tongue lolled out of your mouth when he yanked your panties roughly by the front, pulling the material between your pussy lips.

Your clit was cradled in the steamy fabric and you clutched the front of his robes for stability as your eyes rolled back.

“Do you know how much you made me suffer thinking about that pretty pussy of yours? How many times I fisted my cock? How much blood I spilled to forget the way you looked in those slutty outfits?”

Choso's own desire was apparent in his raspy voice.

You shake your head and tears spill as he pulls the fabric tighter over your clit.

“I-I w-wanted you too” you sniffled out.

“Then prove it.” Choso breathed out huskily.

“I want that needy cunt of yours to beg me by fucking herself real nice on my thigh like she did on your mattress earlier.”

You could have combusted as he admitted he had in fact been watching you from your closet but you couldn’t help but obey his orders.

The frantic way your heart pounded in your chest couldn’t trump the unbearable arousal between your legs.

You braced yourself on his shoulders as you began to rock your hips on him.

“That’s it baby.”

Choso encouraged you as you heard a loud rip and realized he had cut away your thong when you felt him snatch the material right off of you.

Your plump pussy lips parted when pressed onto his thigh and you felt the rough material of his heavy robes directly chafing against your clit.

Surrendering to pleasure you circled your hips to grind down on him as Choso started bouncing you on his leg.

The impact of your weight forcing your clit down while his thigh pushed up into you shaking.

“S-shiiiit D-daddy!”

You cried out arching back.

Choso could have busted in his pants completely untouched when he heard you call him daddy.

You didn’t know how much you had him wrapped around your perfectly manicured fingers.

He would kill every single one of those bastard frat fucks on campus on a whim if you asked him to.

He would do anything for you.

Choso's muscular thigh flexing underneath your cunt felt amazing but your hole was screaming to be filled as it gaped around the phantom thought of his cock penetrating you.

“N-Need more. S’not enough Daddy”

You beg, whining into the mouth opening of his mask.

Your breath enters through the material as your hot tongue presses against the cloth barrier hungrily.

His own tongue responds in kind, entangling with yours through his mask and you moan deeper into the opening.

You feel so good yet are still frustrated that you were naked while you couldn’t even see a sliver of skin from him still in his full Ghostface attire.

You move to lift up his mask when he stops you, breaking the makeshift kiss.

“Now, now Y/N.”

Choso playfully chides.

“Can you think of nothing but my dick? You’ve forgotten so quickly this is still a crime scene?”

You panted as you looked over your shoulder and spot the gruesome remains of Dean’s lifeless body and half bashed in face. Blood stained the foyer rug and pieces of tissue splattered on curtains, walls and even the fake plants.

Right.

You still had no idea what you were going to do about that situation but Dean was already dead. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Honestly you felt as if you might die as well if you couldn’t get Choso’s dick inside of you soon.

Your hips never stopped grinding down on his thigh as you returned your attention to him.

You knew if Choso couldn’t even kiss you, he couldn’t fuck you either as those same rules applied to both potential sources of DNA.

“S’fine.” You pout.

“I-I had your jacket, y-your DNA could c-come from that.”

Your injured hand came to cup the slide of his masked face and your other rubbed the outline of cock over his jeans, feeling the precum soil through them despite the thickness of the fabric.

Blood from your hand smeared onto the pristine white Ghostface mask as you pulled your foreheads to touch.

“I’ll admit Dean was right, w-we w-were sleeping together...”

Choso chuckled.

“..and get me expelled for sleeping with a student on top of a motive to connect me to your victim?”

He gave your ass harsh smack.

Your cheeks clenched and your panting grew more ragged as you chased your high against him.

“Y/N you gotta think with that sexy little head of yours not that needy little cunt if you really want me to fuck you. I know you’re smart. This should be easy for you.”

You groaned.

Thinking was virtually impossible right now.

You wanted to give up and resort to begging again but Choso calling you smart (something your recently deceased ex never did) and now rubbing your thighs encouragingly, had made you so happy you wanted to make him more proud of you.

You reluctantly stopped your hips, ignoring the fiery ache shooting through in your cunt but you wanted to cum from his cock not his thigh.

You closed your eyes and exhaled a shaky breath.

Focus Y/N, you willed yourself.

Focusing became harder to do though when Choso became impatient and had nuzzled his masked face into your chest.

His mouth latched to your nipple through the black cloth, swirling his tongue and grazing his teeth against your bud causing it to swell.

“Oh!” you smiled sweetly down at him and his abs tightened as he held you closer to him.

“We get rid of the body! Clean up and make sure there's no crime scene to be found!”

“That’s correct,” Choso praised you as if you answered a question in class correctly.

“Now, most importantly, how exactly will we get rid of the body, Y/N?”

“We…w-we..”

Your fingertips grazed your lips and you bit a nail as you pensively considered your options.

You looked like you were thinking so hard on this.

So fucking cute.

“Come on baby, tell me.”

Choso was the one begging you now while he lifted your hips just enough to pull up his robes and position you to straddle his dick straining against his jeans.

You were so close to the answer. He knew it would come to you and he wanted to be inside of you as soon as you got it.

You clasped your hands together and gave him one of your pageant winning smiles he grew to love.

“We make a kill room!”

“Smart girl” Choso said as he lifted his mask and his lips came crashing down on yours.

☠

“Shit-Shit-Shit!”

You cried as you lower yourself onto Choso’s cock.

You had begged and pleaded him for this but Choso was so much bigger and longer than you expected.

You never had a problem taking dick before but not only was Choso huge he had 3 rows of top and frenum ladder ball piercings on his long veiny cock that dragged against your gspot when you tried to force him inside you.

You still had about an inch to go and his fat cockhead was already pressing against your cervix.

“Fuck baby you really been keeping all this good pussy from me?”

Choso spread your cheeks to assist you down on his enlarged length but your walls vice gripped his cock preventing him from guiding you down further.

Choso grunted, he was going to cum fast if you didn’t ease up.

Pulling you back, he captured your lips again devouring them as he violently pushed his tongue into your mouth in a sloppy kiss, dominating you completely.

A tremor shot through your cunt as your hips jerked and your legs quivered.

“My slutty girl is so sensitive she came from just kissing?”

Choso teased knowingly pulling back to allow you air and lapping at the drool from the corners of your mouth.

It wasn’t just a kiss.

Without the hindrance of a mask Choso’s kisses felt like he was eating you alive and set your body ablaze.

Your orgasm came with enough intensity to loosen your walls allowing you to finally sink down to the base. However your legs were still vibrating and unable to support you riding him.

You fell forward into the crook of his neck.

“C-can’t D-daddy” you babbled into his neck drooling.

Choso wanted to tease you more. He wanted to goad and praise you enough so you would ride him in earnest until your perfect pretty face sobbed for him to fuck you but time was of the essence now.

You both probably had a good hour and a half left before the cops broke up the party and members of your sorority started heading back.

He needed to finish you quickly and he silently promised to take his time with you later.

Rising up, Choso positioned his arms under your thighs to keep you seated on his cock as he walked up the few steps to reach the landing in the middle of the staircase.

Placing your back carefully against the wall he glides his hands over your sweat and blood laden skin to lift your legs onto his shoulders. His grip settles onto the fat of your ass and he marvels at how his fingers sink into them.

Choso allows you time to get adjusted to the new position as he now held you in a standing mating press.

“Ready?”

You nod and Choso takes that as his greenlight to rigorously fuck you into the wall with such vigor you felt it quaking behind you.

There was no possible way you could have ever been ready for that though and your hands dive into his hair tugging at the roots under his man buns as if you intended to scalp him.

Your reactions fuel his cruel thrusts as Choso greedily drinks your guttural screams into his mouth.

They sound more heavenly than any he had heard before even from his own victims.

Slamming you down on his cock, Choso manhandled you like you weighed nothing to him.

His piercings and engorged veins continue to scrape the walls of your core with every stroke as you gush around him soaking his robes.

Choso wanted more of you.

He didn’t think he would ever get enough.

You felt so fucking good he could fuck you like this for hours and he cursed the dwindling time he had before he needed to remove himself from the warm comfort of your mushy cunt.

The hallway echoed with sounds of his hips sadistically ramming your body further into the wall as well as the sloshy vulgar noises his cock tore from your tight creamy cunt.

“S-so c-lose Cho–”

Were the only words you could croak out as your cries become lodged in your throat.

The pleasure you received being folded between Choso and the wall had you salivating like crazy. Drool was pooling in your mouth faster than it could dribble out down the sides.

You locked eyes with him.

The wild glint in them was so primordially feral you can’t believe you ever mistook the restraint he tried to maintain around you for shyness.

Frankly, there was nothing timid about him.

The cold confidence of a true killer radiated off of him and into your core as each of his thrusts felt like they were stabbing into your womb.

Your whines turned into horse croaks as you desperately gasped for air.

Like a killer he showed you no mercy as his long cock shifted your guts up and into your lungs.

Choso was quite literally murdering your cunt.

“Yeah Y/N? Is my girl gonna cum all pretty like on this dick?”

Too cockdrunk to reply, your pussy readily spoke up for you as your walls clenched and spasmed. White stars flood your vision as your body vibrates against him as you cum hard, gurgling his name.

Choso’s hips stuttered and his moans increased as he fucked you through your orgasm and chased his own.

He knew better than to cum inside you, he wasn’t wearing a condom and didn’t even know if you were on birth control.

But your cunt was like a drug to him so Choso resigned himself to cleaning you up after as he gave one last thrust, injecting you with his hot seed that scorched your insides and sent you spasming all over again.

It took a few minutes for Choso to catch his breath but he gently released your legs down to touch the floor as he pulled out of you.

You groaned immediately at the loss after being so full as you still tried to regain your own steady breaths.

Not missing a beat, Choso moved with reverence as if he was worshiping your form from the kisses he peppered down your chest and belly.

“Eyes on me baby,”

Choso ordered, glancing up at you.

You nodded your breath hitching once he reached below your belly button and he threw one of your legs over his shoulder again.

He shamelessly breathed in the scent of sex wafting off your pussy.

The musky mixture of his cum and your juices combined with sweat and blood entered his nostrils and sent his eyes rolling back into his skull.

You shuddered.

You wanted to feel his mouth on you more than anything but you knew you couldn’t both remain like this in the open hallway for much longer.

Seemingly forgetting all concerns of time, Choso’s thumbs lightly ghost over your battered pussy lips as he slowly peeled back the slippery folds.

His chest swoll with pride seeing how much of his cum you had taken inside of you.

Choso's tongue salaciously darted out to catch the drippings that seeped out of your messy little cunt.

Despite your concerns, you can’t resist bucking up towards his face as he brought your hips off the wall towards him.

“Be patient princess, let me enjoy this.”

Choso open handedly spanks your pussy, landing a direct hit on your clit which has you shaking as your squirt spritz onto his face.

His thick tongue rolls out of his mouth like a man starved licking his lips at the feast before him

“Goddamn, I already love her so much”

He cooed into your cunt while looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.

“Go out with me, yeah Y/N? I’ll treat her right. Just let me have a taste of her everyday.”

You almost came on his face again from the utter display of depravity he was showing you, not missing the fact he was so pussy drunk he was technically asking your cunt to be his girlfriend instead of you.

To be fair you were both way past the point where he needed to ask you out anyway as he was an accomplice to your homicide and soon-to-be cover up.

“Okay Choso, I’ll be your girlfriend,”

You grinned at him.

Choso thanked you by gently placing a kiss on your clit before nose-diving into your folds like a mad man between your legs.

Seeing how sensitive you are it wasn't long before he had you thrashing on his lips from the nasty way he heartily ate your cunt out.

The suckling, bubbling and squeaking sounds of him inhaling your pussy nearly had you at your peak again.

Yet you were snapped out of your pleasure when you heard the grandfather clock in the hall ring signaling it was midnight.

Fuck what if the party got broken up earlier than expected?

“W-we don’t have time for this Choso.” You plead anxiously as you pry his head out of from between your legs.

The sounds of the clock chiming and the sight of Dean’s body still laying in the entryway made you more nervous with every passing minute it remained there.

His eyes narrowed dangerously on you as he nuzzled his nose back into your cunt hooking it under your clitoral hood.

“Oh? My sweet girl gets one kill and thinks she knows better than me what we have time for?”

His expression dares you to pull him away again as he drags the flat of his tongue lazily over your clit.

“Please Choso…”

Choso relents as he feels you tense up more, he wouldn't be able to enjoy himself unless you were.

“You trust me right Y/N?”

“Yes”

You breathe out as his fingers play with your puffed pussy lips.

“Do you have the key to the basement?”

You nod.

“And you know exactly where the supply closet is, baby?”

You nod again.

“Perfect. This won't take long at all then.”

Choso assures you as his confident words calm your worries.

“So now just relax princess and let me take care of you. This isn’t my first clean up job babe…”

You weren’t sure if Choso was talking about your cunt or the dead body, but you didn’t doubt he was experienced in both.

“Give me 15 minutes to see how many times I can make you squirt on my tongue. Then we can finally make that dexter kill room you like so much, yeah?”

You nodded once more and Choso wasted no time drowning his face back into your cunt.

You sighed contently.

He was already the best boyfriend you ever had.

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ

A/N: How was that? Did I do our emo kang justice? Lmk! (y'all better lmk cause y'all busted my balls for days over this lmfaoooo)

Also ding dong Dean is DEAD thank fuck. Whew I made that man as horrible as possible so you could kill him. Tbh, I would kill a nigga just for pouring Milwakees in my hair alone, that shit smells and tastes like cat piss lol.

Also here if y'all wanna see a cute lil pixivi I made of me bimbo!reader x Ghostface!Choso.

You know the original idea for this was actually based on a fic I was writing where Choso, Yuji and Sukuna (all brothers) all transfer to your university and bimbo!reader (no bf this time) clearly likes Choso but his oblivious emo ass has no idea and keeps being a dick to you cause he thinks you are just making fun of him. LOL! I may in the future still end up writing a version for that since this ended up going in a completely different direction with Ghostface thrown into the mix.

Y'all this fic was way too fuckin long. I know theres likely errors/redundancies still so I will comb through it later and I may edit/reword somethings too but general content will stay the same. Tbh, what took so long is the last scene cause I decided I cannot write a smut fic with Choso where that man isn't acting completely deranged and unhinged over the taste of pussy. He's munch, he can't help it.

Reblog for Ghostface!Choso to be your personal munch, but likes and comments are appreciated all the same!

Next up on Kizzatober, Werewolf!Toji from Thrilling Ghouls! (PWP)

ღTaglistღ: @callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @akaza-simp01 @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @samicamy-13 @strvqtt @wisteriaflowersss @spookyy-gracee @jujutsualy @anakalana @crying-person @missphanosaur18 @jazzmynerule @megatqistina @trobed1312 @mimiemie @insomninaz @bloodysweetcat @cyyberm00n @nikkitc0703 @briefrebelfanalmond (so sorry if I missed anyone but I'm delirious rn forgive me ily)

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isawritesshit · 2 months

Text

The Color Blue - Chapter 2

image taken from @ lovevivianne on pinterest

Synopsis: As the only daughter to the leader of the Kamo Clan, you were trained and protected to one day bring your father honor through your marriage to the heir of the Gojo Clan. However, your husband ended up being something that your family never prepared you for. As you come to navigate a new world of politics between the clans, your husband convinces you that there is nothing wrong with honoring yourself too. MDNI WITH THIS CHAPTER.

Warnings and Content: fem! reader, slightly ooc! (?) gojo, mostly fluff with a hint of angst, smut (gojo fantasizes about fucking the reader, body worshipping, marking, fingrering, fem receiving! oral, taking reader’s virginity in mating press), mentions/anxieties of marriage consummation, themes of arranged/forced marriage/familial expectations, cursing, themes of mentally abused/anxious reader, male masturbation

Author's Note: Chapter 2 woo woo! Had a lot of fun writing this one. Please keep in mind that there is smut in the chapter so minors dni! I will add that reader's father in this series, along with other family members, are not canon and are created for the purpose of the story, as well as the beliefs/dramatization of the Kamo clan. If you have yet to read the prologue or chapter one, please do so!

Word Count: 7.3k

___________________________________________________________

Satoru folded his arms as he stood before your father, waiting for him to say something. Instead, the man held Satoru's gaze while sitting on the foyer's couch, not breaking it even when one of the household staff set a cup of steaming tea on the table before them and left.

Arao Kamo was a gruff man, and stupidly proud. His clan was the largest of the three major jujustu clans. Where Satoru and now you were the only Gojo members, the Kamos had dozens interwoven into their bloodline, and Arao oversaw them all with an iron fist. Just as Yaga had said, this was a family rooted in deep tradition, and Arao upheld it just as the other Kamos had done for centuries. Though he was past his prime as a sorcerer, wrinkles dotting his once handsome face just like the gray in his hair, he was widely respected across the jujustu community.

"Where is my daughter?" Your father asked lowly, clearly tired of waiting. Waiting for you, Satoru realized.

"She's sleeping. She had a pretty bad fever this week, so I'm making her prioritize her rest. I was just about to make her breakfast when you arrived, actually," Satoru replied with equal calm, cocking his head and giving him a smirk. "Though, I'm assuming you're not here for breakfast."

"I came to see (Y/N)," your father grumbled, now taking the tea into his hands. "I messaged her this morning notifying her I would be here, but it seems she didn't see it. That girl can be so insolent sometimes..."

That set Satoru off a bit. No wonder you were always so focused on pleasing him if you had to cater to this prick. "Well, forgive me, sir, but like I said, she's asleep, so she wouldn't have been able to read your texts. Maybe next time give her a further notice. And, contrary to your definitely valued opinion, I find your daughter quite charming and very polite. But hey, what do I know, she's only been living with me for a month and a half," Satoru shrugged, firing at him with his usual attitude. He was peeved to even refer to this man as his father-in-law, so he avoided it as much as he could.

Satoru almost snickered when he saw a vein fire off in the Kamo leader's head as he gripped the ceramic cup so hard it almost cracked. What was even more fun was knowing that the man couldn't even tell Satoru to watch his tone. They were equal in position, but Satoru greatly outweighed him in power, even if your father was a retired special-grade.

Your father only released a breath, trying to calm himself before saying, "Right. Well then, since she's preoccupied, I'm sure you wouldn't mind telling me that you both have consummated your marriage?"

Satoru tried and failed to hide the disgust on his face. Why would he need to know that? You being his daughter or no, he had no right to know what went on in your marital bed. Satoru decided in that moment that he wanted your father out of this house before he made him leave. "Oh, yeah, definitely. Don't know why that's any of your business, but of course we have," Satoru lied, though the smug grin on his face made it look like he was telling the truth.

"Well then, I congratulate you both," your father said, now standing. "I expect good news in the coming weeks. I suppose I'll be taking my leave now."

"Oh, please do," Satoru replied wittily, moving a little too quickly to open the front door for him. "I need to get back to breakfast before my poor dear wife starves."

Arao gave Satoru a sneer before walking out the door. "Oh, and the lawn care guy should be outside if you need help getting down the stairs!" Satoru shouted as he watch the man leave, closing the door and laughing to himself.

He stood at the door for a moment, sighing and running a hand through his hair, all while trying to ponder the reason why your father felt the need to show up in the first place. Suddenly, Satoru felt a little guilty for not trying to move up the marriage date himself, now getting a more vivid image of what you probably had to deal with.

Speaking of you, he needed to get back to cooking. He turned to walk back up the stairs, but you were already standing at the top, looking down at him. He smiled at the sight of you, your usual silk robe covering your nightgown as you folded your hands in front of you. It seemed like you had just washed up, too. Satoru jogged up the steps to greet you.

"Satoru-" you started, a small pout on your face.

"Don't worry, (Y/N), I took care of it," Satoru interrupted, putting his hands on your shoulders to usher you back to the kitchen. "By the way, your father is a lovely individual."

"I know it was him you were talking to. I just saw his texts and rushed down to greet him, but you got there before me," you explained. "I was listening to your conversation, but I should have showed my face. Forgive me?"

"That's perfectly okay. You have nothing to be sorry for. You don't have to talk to him if you don't want to," Satoru reconciled. "To be honest, I was already ticked that he just invited himself over."

"Well, he is my father. He should be able to see me when he wants to," you replied. Satoru looked at you and furrowed his brow as the two of you walked through the doors and towards the kitchen.

"(Y/N), that shouldn't mean anything. You're his daughter, sure, but you're also an adult and someone that's capable of making their own decisions, so you have a right to refuse him, especially in the state that you're in. Not to mention, you should be in bed," Satoru argued. Did you really stop resting to go downstairs and see him? How much of a hold did this man still have on you?

"But as your wife and the matron of the house, I should be the first to greet guests-"

Satoru only snickered and shook his head. "(Y/N), just because that was something your father taught you doesn't mean you have to do that. You realize how ridiculous that statement sounds?"

He suddenly regretted his words when you gave him a worried look. "But, that's my responsibility-"

“But it doesn’t have to be!” Satoru interjected before you could say anymore. He sighed before continuing. “Look, I didn’t mean to raise my voice. What I mean is that… you’re recovering from an illness, and we both know you need rest. So, since something like this came up and because I’m the one taking care of you, I went to go answer the door because you’re still in bed. I was happy to do it, (Y/N)…”

After a few seconds, he added, “I understand what you think, and please don’t take this like I’m trying mansplain something to you or what not… but the whole husband-wife relationship dynamic that I think you have in mind… it’s not… healthy, so to speak. At least, I don’t think it is. You don't always have to break yourself down trying to handle so many things. The same goes for me too. So we help each other, right? You don’t even have to think of it in a married way either. Just see it like I’m doing you a favor, yeah?”

"Still... he won't be happy with me," you murmured as the two of you walked the rest of the way to the kitchen in silence. The ingredients still sat on the counter, the batter ready but unused. Satoru decided to get started on that right away while you watched from the entryway.

"Satoru?"

"Mhm?"

"Why did you lie...?" The stove reached a crescendo of sizzles as Satoru poured the batter onto the pan, his back turned to you.

"Because he has no right knowing about private stuff like that," he replied, his shoulders moving slightly under his t-shirt as he fiddled the batter with the spatula. "And because I knew he would be furious with you. I knew he would find a way to blame it on you... as if it was your fault that I decided not to force myself on you because you were obviously nervous and scared and we had practically just met. I would never do something like that unless you wanted me to."

"But I do."

"Do you? Or do you want to because you know it's what your family expects of you?"

A beat. "I don't know."

Satoru moved the done pancakes onto a paper plate and poured more batter on the pan. "(Y/N), what do you want us to be?"

"You're my husband-"

"No, just... putting all that aside for a minute. Disregard what I want, what your family wants, what jujustu society wants... what do you want us to be, as two human beings?"

You didn't answer his question. In fact, you didn't say anything until he had used up all of the batter and made a semi-okay stack of blueberry pancakes for the both of you. Maybe you have never been asked something like this before. After all, your whole life you were told to be dedicated to your father and your family name, and then eventually to him. Your opinions thus didn't ever matter in any situation, so no one probably bothered asking. Did you even know then what it was like to want something? To want to have a goal or a sense of identity that was truly your own?

It wasn't until he opened the silverware drawer to grab forks that you spoke up.

"A friend. I want us to be friends."

Satoru smiled, shutting the drawer before handing you your plate. "You got it, pretty girl."

___________________________________________________________

"So what do you like to do for fun?" Satoru asked, observing you as he sat backwards on one of the many chairs of the library.

"Read," you replied, not even looking up from the book in front of you.

"Yeah. I gathered," Satoru grumbled. Whatever you were reading, you seemed really immersed, pages in your face and curled up all nice and comfy on the couch. He reached forward, barely able to put the tip of his finger on the top of the cover to pull it down a little and look at you. "What else?"

"Have we not had this discussion before?" You moved the book back up, a placid expression on your face.

"Yeah, but there's a difference between hobbies and things you do for fun..."

"Okay then. I do my hobbies for fun."

Satoru sighed. "So you're telling me you've never like... gone to the movies? An amusement park? Maybe a club or something?"

He barely saw you shake your head as you said, "Aside from going to see a movie once or twice, I've never done any of those. There are more ways to spend my time that do not involve spending money or wearing indecent clothing around indecent people."

Satoru chuckled at your response. You did seem like the type of person to frown upon things like parties and alcohol. "Hmph. Now that has me thinking... what is the most rebellious thing you've ever done as a teenager?"

You set your book down at his question, gently marking the page as you hummed. "I was able to procure a romance novel when I was 16..." you murmured.

Satoru only raised an eyebrow, shifting in his seat. "And? What did you do with it?"

"I read it of course," you replied matter-of-factly.

"That's... it? What, was it like hardcore porn or something?"

"Goodness no! It was... just a romance novel..." You picked up your book again, clearly flustered.

Satoru snickered, moving a chair around to sit on it normally to look at you as you read. "Well then, what was so bad about it?"

"Well, the fact that it was a romance novel," you shrugged.

That made Satoru pause for a moment, considering what your words were implying. "So... you weren't allowed to read romance novels? That seems kinda harsh... Is that why you read so much non-fiction type stuff?"

"To begin, I do read fiction, just not a lot of fiction prose. And secondly, yes, I was not allowed to," you explained. "My father believed reading stories of that nature would give me fanciful ideas to go out and try to experience romance and tamper my chastity before my marriage."

That stunned Satoru to silence for a moment. "Wow. Not gonna lie, your dad's a dick."

Your brow furrowed as you looked at him from over your book. "Satoru, that's rude."

"What? He's not in the room with us. And besides, it's not like you were shooting heroin up your arm and getting pregnant at 16 because you read a romance book," he argued, crossing his arms over his jacket. "What was it even about anyway?"

You sighed, setting down your book again. "I don't really remember. Something like... a girl running away from her kingdom to escape marriage, and she somehow ends up falling for the man she was supposed to marry anyway." You leaned back against the couch, setting your book on the table nearby. "I never read it again. I was too afraid someone would find it and tell my father."

"What was the book called?"

"I don't... I don't remember," you muttered, looking down in your lap.

"Did you like it?"

You only shook my head with a smile. "You ask a lot of questions, Satoru."

He only smirked and raised his arms up in a 'guilty as charged' motion. "Well, forgive me for just trying to know more about something that you obviously enjoyed. But seriously? Your dad wouldn't let you read something like that?"

"N-no..." Your eyes wandered before landing on the clock on the other side of the room, standing when you realized what time it was. "I should start on lunch-"

"Ah, ah, ah," Satoru ticked, standing up to stop you. "We're going out for lunch."

"We are?" you asked, looking up at him confused. "Did I forget?"

"Nope, I just decided," Satoru chirped, now putting a hand on the small of your back as he led you out of the library. "We're gonna go to lunch, and then we're going shopping."

"But we have food here... and what do we need to shop for?" you inquired, a puzzled look on your face. "I had just run to the market this past weekend..."

"Well, dontcha think it's kinda odd that we're married yet we haven't really gone out to do something fun together? I think it'll be nice. And you can't shop for books on an empty stomach," he replied, patting his own stomach for emphasis. "You can get any romance book you desire, all on me. It doesn't even have to be a romance book, either! I can tell you've been reading those same poetry collections over and over so you must want some new ones..."

Your silence was a clear indicator of your hesitation, making Satoru look at you for a moment. You were biting the inside of your cheek, eyes trained down, second guessing. "Hey, if you don't want to, we won't go," he said, voice softening. "We can make lunch here and find something else to do later, if that's what you'd rather do..."

"I... I'm just..." you started.

"What's on your mind, pretty girl?"

You looked sheepishly off to the side, now stopping in the center of the private living room in both you and Satoru's shared part of the estate. "It's just... my father visited here less than a week ago trying to see me, and I didn't even greet him. And now... now what you're proposing is... something he most definitely wouldn't...uhm..."

Admittedly, the first thing Satoru felt was frustration. How much of your life did your father dictate before he married you? Too much, Satoru knew now. Too much to the point where you're thinking of his approval long after you were grown and married. Too much to the point where your father could have demanded an answer to the same question he asked Satoru a few days ago, and you would've answered him truthfully despite the fact that you knew you would suffer. What more could this man want from you besides your total devotion?

However, that frustration melted to empathy and heartache when looking at your face. Now, because of your consideration of rejecting his offer, you looked guilty. He felt the urge to reach out and hug you; to hold your head to his chest and tell you it was okay, and that he understood; to let you know that he didn't take any offense to what your concerns were or what you were feeling. After all...

He can't blame you for knowing any different.

"(Y/N), I understand that you may feel that way but... I'll tell you the same thing that I told you before: I'm not your father. I don't plan on being like him, either. You can do whatever you want when you're here. So, if you want to stay here and not go get anything, that's fine. But, I want you to know that I would be very happy to take you to go get a few books and some food, and I think you'll be too. It's your decision."

You swallowed, picking at the skin of your fingers, likely a nervous habit. Your eyes darted to a few different spots: the carpet, his socks, the wooden wall, the window. You tried to calm your breaths, your chest rising and falling, rising and falling...

"Maybe... maybe one new thing on my bookshelf... wouldn't hurt?"

___________________________________________________________

One new book turned into two, two into three, and three into ten. Of course, Satoru got a few for himself too. He wasn't a big reader, but he figured he'd try a few to keep him occupied when traveling.

Traveling was part of the reason he took you out today. You both already knew that he had been assigned an upcoming mission for a while now, one that was going to keep him away for about a week. He wanted to do something for you before he left, and he couldn't have thought of anything more perfect.

After your shopping, the two of you went to a little café tucked between the stores of a nearby shopping center. You both talked for roughly two hours, enjoying baked sandwiches and coffee and muffins. It was the first time he had ever seen you talk so openly with him, like he was having a conversation with any of his other friends or colleagues. But it was so... different at the same time? You had this grace to the way you spoke, which he had already noticed, but what was new was your cute mannerisms: the way your eyes looked upward when you tried to think of something, or the way you smiled nervously when you suddenly forgot what the two of you had been talking about...

And if that wasn't icing on the cake, there was what he was now referring to in his head as The Miracle. A little blonde girl, no more than five, had been running around the café with her other sister, friend, whoever, for most of the time the two of you had been there. However, amidst trying to run away from the other girl she was playing with, the little blonde had run into the chair you were sitting in, causing her to fall over. Satoru choked on a laugh while you just bent over in your seat to help the girl up.

However, when you helped the girl to her feet, a hand on her little wrist, the kid just stared at you, starstruck. When you asked if she was alright, the girl only answered with a dazed, You look like a princess.

And what he witnessed was the best part of his day. You laughed. Loudly. Eyes crinkled as your cheeks expanded from a wide smile. You thanked the little girl, told her she looked like one too, before the kid ran back over to her parents.

He had laughed too, of course. Usually kids give him weird stares, but seeing it happen to someone else was funny for a change. Satoru couldn't have agreed more with the kid, though. You did look like a princess, even if you were wearing just a typical floral dress, and he had the fight the urge to rub it in the kid's face. She's my princess that I get to see everyday because she's my wife, so eat it.

That laugh was a broken record in his head the entire drive home, replaying over and over. It was so... unlike you, in a sense. You were so timid, yet your laugh had come out loud and roaring up from the pit of your stomach like a long awaited eruption. What he wouldn't give to hear that again...

And that's what led him to your bedroom. The two of you just got back 30 minutes ago and he was craving your presence again already. He stood in your already open doorway, leaning against it with his sunglasses slung low on his nose as he watched you put your new books on your bookshelf. You even rearranged some of the ones already on there to make a different section for your three new romance novels.

You seemed content, fulfilled. Satoru considered that a mission accomplished.

He spoke up when you were done. "Tired of me yet, or do you want to find something else to do?"

You turned to face him from where you were sitting on the floor before standing and straightening out the skirt of your dress. There was something... extremely attractive about your modesty, your adorable and considerate manners. He knew they must have been drilled into you since childhood, but the way you did it- the little bounce when you stood, the slight shift of your weight from one foot to another, your wide eyes looking at him- that was all you. He loved it.

"Uhm... if you don't mind me asking, Satoru..." you began, one of your hands picking at your fingers- a nervous habit, he now knew. "Why did we go out today... or why did you take me out? I don't think I did anything to... necessarily deserve this-"

"Let me stop you right there," he interrupted, a small chuckle as he took his glasses off and placed them on the collar of his button-up shirt. "You don't need to do anything to deserve something like this. I just wanted to hang out, have fun, take your mind off of things that might be worrying you. After all, you're the one that said you wanted to be friends, am I right?"

"Yes, but... I didn't know that that would entail shopping sprees..." you replied, a mix of bashfulness and thankfulness crossing your features.

"Well, it does when you're friends with me. And don't forget, my money's all yours anyway, so really then you don't even need me to take you out to splurge. If you end up hating me enough, you could buy your own house on the other side of the world and never see my face again," he shrugged, smirking a little.

That smirk grew when your face changed from bashful to worried. "Why would I do that? And... and how do I have access to any of that?" you exclaimed.

Satoru stepped off the doorway, making his way over to you. "Well, you're legally my wife, so my money is also yours. And as for hating me, while I will do everything in my power from getting you to do so, I know I can be a lot for people to try and handle. So if you end up disliking me, that's totally understandable."

You only looked up at him anxiously. "I think it would be rather crude of me to dislike you after everything you've done for me..."

"I guess you're right, but you're still allowed to from time to time. I'd rather you express yourself than cover it up," Satoru replied with a smile, crossing his arms over his chest. "So then, based off of that logic, how do you feel about your father?"

You opened your mouth, but then shut it, looking away. "I can understand why you feel loyalty to him and your family, but from what I can gather, he treated you terribly. And while I don't clearly know everything, I can tell. Really, I can. Were you happy to let him... indoctrinate you like that?" he asked, eyes soothing into something more comforting.

"I..." you started, as if trying to find the words. Then your breaths rose and fell slightly faster, your bottom lip began quivering. Satoru's eyebrows raised as he took note of what was going to happen-

His arms shot forward to steady you as your body seemed to cave in a little, a small no cracking from your throat before the tears started. His heart broke to pieces.

"Hey, hey, hey... shh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you something like that without warning you..." he whispered, ushering you to sit on the bed while he stood in front of you. "Hey, talk to me. You can talk to me..." Satoru raised his hands, one placing itself on your shoulder, the other wiping the tears that trickled down your face.

Through your sobs and shaky breaths you were able to get out, "Scared... I was always... so scared and frightened by... by the thought of what... w-what he would do... if... if I... but I had no choice-"

"Yeah... and you shouldn't have to feel that way around your own father. What he was teaching you, and how he treated you, was wrong," he consoled, brushing more tears and stray strands of hair away from your face. Snot began to drip from your nose. "Shit, uh... here."

You grimaced as he held up his forearm for you to blow into his sleeve. You just pouted and shook your head.

Satoru chuckled lowly. "C'mon, it's fine. I can take it off and wash it later. Unless, you want me to take it off now?" he added with a wink and wiggled eyebrows shot in your direction.

That only caused your face to redden a little, giving him a sniffle as you moved you head forward and used his shirt as a tissue. "Don't be afraid to blow. I got another sleeve too," he quipped, smiling weakly when you eventually did as he adjusted more of your hair behind your ear.

"(Y/N)..." Satoru moved to sit next to you on the bed. "I'm not going to make you tell me everything about yourself. What you want to share is up to you. But, I'll promise that you'll never have to be afraid of me... okay?"

You nodded once, your breaths staggering as you forced yourself to get calm.

"And... can you look at me please?" he whispered, gently cupping one side of your face to turn your attention to him. "You can come to me for anything. Even when I'm not here, you have my number."

You only sighed. "I'm sorry..."

"Sorry? For what?" Satoru retracted his hand from your face.

"For... for that. For feeling like you... for having to... coddle me like this," you muttered. "It's... deeply unfair to you..."

"It's really not..." he tittered. For a moment, he considered telling you just how much he had been wanting, waiting for a moment like this so he could show how much he cared for you. He wanted to tell you that he would rip his whole shirt to scraps for you to blow your nose in to prove it. "Emotions... aren't meant to be something transactional between people. Trust me, I know. If you want me to go to you for something, I gladly will, but right now it's not about me..."

"Are you sure?" you voice cracked, brows furrowing.

"Sure that's it not about me? Well, perhaps not everything can be. But I guess it's okay to give away my spotlight once in a while," he sighed with his usual sarcasm, causing you to giggle a little.

"I meant... are you sure that... that you'd be okay if I... talked to you about... anything?" you questioned again, trying to find your words.

"Absolutely, 's what I'm here for," Satoru assured. "And each time I'll remind you that you're a wonderful, talented, kind, and good-looking individual," he added, giving a little boop on the tip of your nose before continuing with a flare in his voice. "And that-" that I love you "-that, well, I think everything is going to turn out just fine. After all, I'm the strongest sorcerer alive. I can handle anything you throw at me."

You smiled softly, looking down in your lap, your eyes caught between melancholy and meditative. "I suppose you're right about that..."

"Oh, I know, pretty girl. A little therapy session is nothing compared to a special grade curse," he sniggered. "But that doesn't mean I take it more lightly."

You only hummed in response. Satoru just continued to look at you as you stared forward into the carpet, probably thinking about something to say. Even after you had just finished crying, you looked so lovely. Hell, he could never catch you at a time when you weren't that. Or maybe he just saw you that way no matter what.

When you looked back to him, he prepared himself to listen. Instead, all you said was, "Have you packed a bag for your mission?"

He just laughed. "Yeah, I should probably get on that..."

"I'll... probably just get ready for bed early, then," you stammered. "And... uhm..." You turned to him, breathing in as you brought an arm close to his side, making a motion as if you were going to wrap it around him, before ultimately deciding to rest it on his elbow. "Thank you..."

Satoru gave you a knowing smile. He could tell what you were about to do, but chose to not say anything about it. What was important was that he at least noticed. "Anytime..." With that, he opted to leave you alone while he returned to his room.

He could see you were trying. He knew you were, and he knew it was hard. Your whole life, you had been terrified of messing anything up. Hearing you say that set off something deep in him.

As he packed, he realized he had been stupid, so idiotically fucking stupid. He had the power this whole time, for years, to take you to be with him earlier, yet he never acted on it. And those years that he had figured it was best to keep his distance from out of fear of what you would think of him were years you had spent in literal fear of your father and family. Even if he technically would have had to strike an agreement with your father for an earlier marriage date and there was no guarantee that he would agree to it, he could have at least tried.

Someday, Satoru knew he would have to apologize for it.

___________________________________________________________

Satoru got up to leave at 4:00am for his morning flight to Osaka. Once his bags were securely in the trunk, he got in the backseat as his driver took off.

He immediately noticed the container already in the middle seat, a sticky-note on it with your perfect cursive written in blue pen:

Couldn't fall asleep last night, so I made these for you.

- (Y/N)

Satoru grinned, lifting off the cover to be greeted by the smell of fresh, mouthwatering butter cookies. As expected, they tasted just as good too.

He took out his phone, taking a quick selfie with one of the cookies in his mouth, and sending it you with his thanks.

For good measure, he also sent you Suguru's number, saying that if your father came back or if you needed anything that he couldn't get there right away for, you could call Suguru and he would be able to stop over. You texted him back in the middle of his flight, glad that he liked the cookies and letting him know you would call Suguru if the need arises.

A few hours later, you sent him a picture of yourself smiling in the garden, hand marking a page in one of your new romance novels as you sat on your usual bench between the cherry trees.

Satoru made it his lockscreen in a heartbeat.

___________________________________________________________

This mission was by far the hardest he had ever had, and not because of the curses themselves.

Normally, Satoru would repeat the same thing throughout a mission week: wake up, go investigate the site of a supposed curse, find it easily, beat it with no sweat, spend the rest of his day sightseeing and buying food to splurge on back at his hotel suite, and then pass out.

However, this was the first mission he had ever spent away from you, which made the seven days ahead feel like a year. As much as he wanted to to finish all the curses off and go home, he knew that he had to take it easy and let his cursed energy replenish each day for a possible worst case scenario. Not to mention, the longer he was out, the more he was likely to get paid if it made it seem like he was actually trying.

Needless to say, Satoru did text you a few times throughout the day to check on you, seeing what you were up to and how you were entertaining yourself. You both would occasionally send photos back and forth. Satoru would send you a selfie of himself with a thumbs up and a defeated curse, and you would reply with whatever you were doing at the moment.

Because of your photo exchanges, he now had a small album in his phone titled Wifey (^ω^). His favorite so far was actually a video you sent of you playing the grand piano in one of the few estate galleries. He would play it over and over before bed, not to listen to the Debussy piece (thought you did a marvelous job playing it), but to watch you as your fingers floated across the keys with a pleasant, satisfied smile on your face.

He was imagining that face now as he was laying in bed, waiting for exhaustion to overtake him. He wished he could reach into his phone screen, brush the curve of your lips with his fingertips, trace along your eyelashes with his thumbs, and place kiss after kiss on your forehead until he got that smile of yours to come out.

Better yet, Satoru wished you were right here next to him.

He wished he could pull you close to him. He already knew your body would fit perfectly against his. Your head would rest against the crook of his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He wouldn't leave any inch of your face untouched by kisses, especially those delicate lips, the same lips he had to try his best not to stare at when you spoke, but would catch sneaky glimpses of...

They always looked so soft, and he knew they would feel that way against his own. He thought about what it would be like to kiss you for the first time, how shy and nervous you would be, but that is what would make it so much more enjoyable. He would guide you through it, one hand tangled gently in your hair while the other squeezed your waist closer to him.

And the two of you would lay there, the only sounds being the ones you exchanged between one another and the slight rustling of the sheets. Maybe if he got far enough, he would test the waters a little, barely teasing your lips with his tongue as his hands would start roaming against the silky fabric of that lavender nightgown he thought and a little too often, and then-

Satoru groaned, now staring up at the ceiling. He ran his hands over his face once, twice. He tried to think of anyone or anything else...

Nope. His cock was still hard in his boxers.

"Fuck," he seethed, pulling down his waistband. He was painfully hard. And all because he thought about kissing you-

He immediately drew his hands away, letting the waistband go with a snap. No, he shouldn't. He shouldn't. Even if you were married to him, he told you he would be your friend. Nothing more, nothing less... unless you wanted to.

And frankly, Satoru couldn't even tell if you wanted him, not that he would demand or expect you to, of course. He never wanted to come off as the guy that felt they deserved your affections just because he was nice to you. He just... wanted to express his love and attraction as platonically as possible.

Even if that meant going through the rest of your lives remaining this way: living in the same house, sharing the same income, spoiling one another, going to each other for anything and everything and providing a shoulder to cry on...

God, the lines felt blurry, even if they were straightforward: married by status, friends by relationship. He'll keep it that way, and he'd never beat his dick to any of his friends.

Granted... he's never been attracted to any of his friends the way he's been attracted to you. He's never been attracted to anyone the way he's attracted to you.

To him, you were so much more than a body, a hookup for whenever he wanted to get laid and that he could discard when he was finished. He didn't want a friends-with-benefits situation either. He wanted all of you.

Satoru turned over with a sigh, burying his face in the pillow as he cursed himself and his stupidly horny brain, which was something he usually didn't mind. But when it's now starting to think about you in this context...

The reason it probably felt so wrong was because you were so innocent. Hell, you blushed and shied away from the prospect of him with just his shirt off. And he understood what the jujustu community expected, what you expected: for the two of you to produce an heir. But he couldn't care less. To hell with the Gojo bloodline if it meant he was going to have to defile you to appease someone else.

But then again, there's no saying that you didn't want him either...

Fuck. And it's not like he couldn't see the effect he had on you. The way you would smile and flush nervously whenever he teased you, whenever he called you pretty girl. He loved calling you that, almost as much as he liked calling you by your name. (Y/N).

"Fuck... (Y/N)." Satoru turned over and reached his hand into his boxers. He was caving, but just for tonight. Just for tonight, to get the edge off.

He raised his hand briefly to spit in it before bringing his hand back down and hissing at the amount of pre that was already leaking. With a shaky groan, he wrapped his palm around the tip and dragged down slowly.

What if this was your hand instead of his. You would be so shy, at least, maybe at first, before you got comfortable. He would coax you through it, telling you how good you were doing and praising you from how good your perfect hands felt. He'd show you everything. Where he was sensitive, what movements and actions felt the best...

Oh, but what about you.

If you were any other girl, he would have taken your outfits as you trying to entice him with your gorgeous curves. He would've fell for it, dragged you to his room, and ripped those cute dresses and tights to shreds in order to admire those curves properly before he fucked your brains out.

But he could never do that to you, not unless that's what you wanted. He was prepared to do anything for you, of course, but with what he felt for you, what he yearned to do, was to make love to you.

He wanted to make love to you gently, slowly, show you exactly what he was feeling in the most physical way possible. He needed to protect you, make sure nothing would ever hurt you or cause you any discomfort.

He would get all that tempting skin of yours on display for him and put his lips all over it, worshipping you, listening to all those cute noises you would make. He'd run his tongue over your breasts, sucking on them and marking them as his own, before moving down and down-

His hands would push your succulent thighs up to your chest to give him a full view of your sweet cunt, just before he ate you like the tasty little dessert you were. He'd prep you with his mouth and fingers, make you cream a few times to get you all pliant for him-

And that's when he would descend on you, working you through the pain with sensual words and even more sensual touches. He'd get you to take as much as you could, as much as you wanted, because he would be all yours. You would finally belong to each other.

He would be assured of that with each moan and whimper he drew from your throat as he worked you to orgasm, crying out his name over and over- Satoru, Satoru, Satoru- until...

Satoru spilled his cum into his hand with a low mewl of your name. His breaths slowed, one after the other, as the haze of his orgasm, the hardest orgasm he'd had in a while, faded to a quiet thrum in his veins.

He shouldn't have done that. If you had found out about this, he knew you'd probably be disgusted with him.

Or just maybe... maybe you'd feel the same. Somehow.

Satoru was hard again.

___________________________________________________________

tags: @leonora13x @cole-silas @feeiry @mysuperrainbow @tw0fvced @emptybrain01 @xixiwang @drilled-brain @lvieee @xxkoyukixx @we-loveebony @sereniteav @ilovecoyotepeterson10 @baby--vera @jebemticeluporodicu @louannfox

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lieutenantfloyd · 1 month

Text

CRAWL - Feyd Rautha x Reader

[A sequel to Creature]

Word Count: 1.5k

Rating: Mature

Summary: A journey marred with horrors is reaching its divine conclusion. Now, you must reemerge and claim what’s yours.

Warnings: Major character deaths, blood, violence, torture, religious themes, domestic violence, implied Stockholm syndrome, heavy canon divergence, pregnancy, psychopaths in love. Feyd and reader very much a match made in hell. (This is a dark fic. Please heed the tags!)

Authors Note: I'm making it known that I never write more for my oneshots, but this story has literally had me in a chokehold for two months. Because of that (along with the fact that Creature is my most popular fic to date) it only felt fair to give it an official ending. This fic was also heavily inspired by Take Me Back To Eden by Sleep Token.

Read on AO3

The time since your ceremony has been counted using your instincts alone.

Days on Geidi Prime are many hours longer than on your home planet of Kaitain. The blackened sun distorts shadows in a way you have yet to get accustomed to, seeing as you’d only seen the world outside the Harkonnen palace twice since your arrival.

With his sexual vulnerability made obvious to you on your first night together, Feyd-Rautha had taken it upon himself to re-correct the dynamics of your union. He has conducted this in the only way he knows how—frigid isolation punctuated by crippling violence.

It didn’t take long for the cracks to appear in your mental state, and it was an even shorter time until he broke you completely. Laying alone in a featureless room, you wished you were somehow stronger. Able to fight back physically, or at least shield your mind from his attacks. Nothing in your life was left up to chance, and you couldn’t help but begin to wonder if the skills you pleaded for were purposefully left out of your lengthy Bene Gesserit training. Even if this wasn’t the work of careful planning by The Sisterhood, the visions soon made clear to you how this agony was the only way forward. The sole path towards destiny.

It was only as the nature of his punishments shifted that you realized your apparent weaknesses were truly a gift in disguise. Each bloodied mark laid on your skin was now a wordless promise. Feyd-Rautha had brought diligent ruin to who you once were, working in blessed tandem with your visions to quiet even your smallest urge to resist.

Time moved faster after this, if only because it now went uncounted.

Your days were spent lurching in and out of consciousness. The pain inflicted by your demented husband brought forth more forbidden knowledge, and together they took complete hold of your body and mind. It was only a matter of time until reality became wholly indecipherable.

You come back suddenly. A shiver jolts down your spine as definitive reality forces the horrors out of your mind. No longer inside that desolate room, you languish in the silks of Feyd-Rautha’s bed. Your senses have heightened greatly in however long you’ve been away, and your palms have grown ravenous for a blade. It was all clear to you now. Endless possibilities take the form of paths, the fate of the Imperium lies in which artery you choose to follow.

You reach outward with a newfound steadiness, waking your fated groom from his rest. His skin—porcelain in both pigment and temperature—scorches your own as he pulls you atop him.

He’s molded you in his image. A perfect creature with teeth that will tear flesh from bone with a mind as sharp as his blades.

Now, only pleasure remains.

The busy air is still like an ocean suddenly devoid of its moon. No longer waking up with ringing ears, you’d nearly forgotten what mournful screams filling silence sounded like. Behind you, Feyd-Rautha’s blade is buried deep in Paul’s beatless chest. The remaining members of the reemerged House Atriedes were subdued while you granted his most fanatical followers the gift of joining Paul in death.

Your sharp eyes barely grace your sister Irulan before she steps behind her father with a loud gasp. You wished for nothing more in that moment than to see yourself through their eyes—the ones widened in total horror.

It was after your reawakening that you learned how your visions of clandestine conversations and plans within plans were not just mere visions at all, but memories of before and prophecies set ahead. You weren’t sure how much your kith and kin knew about what you’d become, but you couldn’t wait to deliver your sermon.

“I’m sorry to hear about your Baron.” The emperor voices carefully. Testing the waters with a question directed towards House Harkonnen’s infamous brothers. You don’t miss his slight—how foolish it is to pretend as if surrendering his own blood to the monsters didn’t turn you into something even worse. When neither Feyd nor Rabban answer, you take the floor.

“Like Paul, it was a quick death brought on by his own shortcomings. Both deaths are unworthy of sorrow, especially from someone in your—position.” you taunt.

For those outside of Geidi Prime, The details regarding the Baron’s last moments are muddy and confusing. You see questions of who and how dance across the Emperor's eyes but you don’t answer. When one wretched being is divided between two bodies, the action of one is the doings of both.

“Well, congratulations on your ascension to the throne, Baron Feyd-Rautha.” The Emperor responds curtly. It's another slight towards you, but this time you yourself don’t bite.

“Don’t placate us.” Feyd-Rautha threatens as he steps in front of you, purposefully mirroring Irulan’s and Shaddam’s stance.

“With his death, my uncle has given me what’s always been mine,” he starts “and now you must do the same,” you finish. Another gasp escapes Irulan as the Bene Gesserit cry out. The Emperor doesn’t flinch.

"Do you want to commence the honors, or shall I?" Feyd asks as you step past him. Your knife already coated in the blood of your father before his sentence draws to a close.

Irulan, in exchange for her life, agreed to a transition of power and self-exile on Kaitain. There’s no ceremony when signet rings stamp decrees, just as there’s no theatrics when you and Feyd-Rautha receive the titles that grant you joint control of the known universe.

When her part is done, Harkonnen soldiers are quick to usher Irulan away. Whatever happens to her now is at their discretion, but you still hope they’re gentle. A thought that confirms the small soft spot for your older sister as the last remaining remnant of who you once were.

You board the Guild ship with one thing on your mind. A competing mix of adrenaline and relief threatens to throw you off balance with each step. Still, you march onward. Smiling as Feyd-Rautha instantly appears at your side. He places a firm hand on the small of your back while his dark eyes scan you over. You welcome his touch, the months of pain and agony brought on by his hands now heavily distorted in your mind. As such, both large and small displays of affection had become common between you both. Though the intensity of his affection had grown greatly since your personal physician informed him you were in the early stages of carrying an heir.

Hesitantly he removes his hand. allowing you to ascend the final steps alone. You sink into your father's throne only seconds before Feyd takes claim of the empty floor space in front of you.

Instantly the same vision from the night of your ceremony comes back to you, only this time it’s stitched together with your own memories.

Staring down at Vladimir Harkonnen as he lay dying on the concrete just beyond that disgusting tub he dared to invite you into. The look of overwhelming horror in the eyes of each member of your former great House as you reunited today. Your current view from atop these gold steps.

Each aspect blurs into one complete image. Feeling you shudder, Feyd-Rautha finds your hand and guides it gently to his chest. You share only the briefest look, but you see in his eyes that he recognizes this moment as well. You place a kiss to his temple, and after a steadying breath, he motions for the last of Paul’s fighters to be brought before you.

Your soldiers stop a few steps down from you, but Feyd beckons them closer so the man is abandoned to the right of Feyd and directly in front of you. Leaning forward, you tilt the fighter’s head upward with the tip of your blade until his eyes meet yours. Beyond his teary heartbreak, a fire is still smoldering. You smile at this sign of a true fighter. Crimson blood catches the light, glistening against your ink-colored teeth.

"Stilgar..." you breathe, your voice turns each syllable to nothing more than a hiss.

You and Feyd move in tandem, allowing you to stretch further forward, though he ensures your soft hand never leaves his chest. Your blade digs further into the underside of Stilgar’s chin until you're given enough purchase to run your sharpened teeth across his neck. He doesn't flinch as you nip the rough, tanned skin laid across his jugular and carotid artery.

This one is strong. Feyd could make such a beautiful example out of him.

Pulling away from Stilgar, you only briefly consider keeping him as a pet before catching sight of Feyd-Rautha. He stares up at you with adoring eyes, though the rest of his striking features are twisted as he snarls in jealousy. Never one to deny Feyd even a single one of his desires, you offer him your blade’s handle.

"Do you want to commence the honors, or shall I?" you purr into his ear.

Your question is answered only by the heavy weight of the knife easing away as it's taken from your hand.

#feyd rautha #dune #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #feyd x you #dune fanfiction #dune part 2 #dune x reader #dune part two #austin butler x reader

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thiccsys · 5 months

Note

can u dump random error facts.. maybe..

FACTS?? cracks my little knuckles

TW FOR SUICIDE MENTION!

okay. im gonna go off memory. so if i get anything wrong someone correct me.

- Error’s glasses have been around since Aftertale! Geno got them from Alphys with the wrong prescription. Because Geno is.. well, himself, he decided that the shitty prescription was “good enough” and rolled with it.

- Error is nearsighted. In the askerror comic Swap paps is seen standing far away. He is blurry. The closer he got to Error, the clearer his image became

- Error’s REAL name is Gaylord Scooter Brighton (im not making this up)

- Contrary to popular belief, Error can feel guilt. Guilt is hinted at in CQ’s summary of what could’ve been (a completed Error comic much like Aftertale).

- Error Papyrus and Error Undyne are canonical characters within his story. I, however, don’t enjoy them as much as I enjoy Error himself, so they’re irrelevant to me

- Errors are literally some sort of species. Error isn’t the only one (Circuit, Proferror, the ones mentioned above, Blueberror). My memory might be failing me but I remember hearing that an Error’s “last thought” before becoming corrupted is very important. Why? I forgot. Is this actually true? I forgot, but i cant be bothered to check

- Error IS suicidal. After destroying all fhe AUs, he will kill himself. In addition, Error would kill himself if he ever became mentally sane enough to understand how hypocritical he is.

- Error has a sensitivity to Papyrus. He doesn’t like being asked about him, or “his brother.” In addition, he struggles to kill them, shown in the AskError comic as well. Geno’s still in there and it’s sooo so amazing to think about

- Error’s very insecure. Although the idea of him being this slay girlypop feather boa wearing king is amazing, he could never. I remember seeing a comic where he indirectly says he dislikes himself. Which makes sense— his narcissistic characteristics definitely stem from insecurity. “i feel like i’m the worst so i’ll act like im the best” mentality (we genuinely relate too much to this).

- Error canonically has five blue tongues

- Error’s glitches temporarily blind him at random. Yes, it happens when he is agitated or upset, but it also comes and goes as it pleases.

- Error’s glitches are painful. Crashes are painful. The scene of him first pulling strings from his sockets was likely EXTREMELY agonizing (i’m pretty sure he said it hurt himself while showing it all to blue).

- Error’s portals do seem to have some sort of replay ability. After all, how else could he have shown Blue what happened to himself?

- He’s very lonely. He wants friends. Living friends.

- CQ stated that Error is INTENTIONALLY made to make no sense. His character doesn’t make sense to you? Good! That’s the point! He’s an enigma that doesn’t even understand himself.

- Error can see and read code as if he were looking at a computer screen. He likes picking through the code of an AU before he destroys it

- Error loves Outertale and Undernovela. He will never finish his little job.

okay thats all i remember ty for asking :3

#undertale #utmv #i lov error #undertale aus #error sans #canon #probably #loverofpiggies #crayonqueen #gaylord scooter brighton #ASKS!

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rubra-wav · 4 months

Text

Vox HCs entry #2

Warnings/CW: discussion of toxic masculinity, SFW

A/N: just various thoughts I've had about this man.

- He is a musical theatre/drama fan

He gives me this energy so much due to how dramatic he is in general. His first instinct when Alastor comes back is to instantly make a callout on live TV in the form of song. 💀

I feel like he listens to musicals in 'secret' - but it's not actually nearly as much as a secret as he thinks it is. I feel like in general he gets very loud when he's passionate or excited about something.

I just have a mental image of him thinking nobody in Vee tower can hear him while he absolutely yells the lyrics of a song with headphones on at full volume while dancing out the choreography to the song.

He'd deny everything about it if you brought this up however. He grew up in the 50's and due to that I feel as if he would be very insecure about it. I'll elaborate more on that in the next point.

- Still has a fair few beliefs to deconstruct

He is from around the 50's time period, and due to that I feel like he would have a lot of internalised toxic masculinity.

He is on and off with Val who's obviously GNC, so I think he doesn't gaf too much about others and what they wear and do anymore

But I think he has a lot of shit he directs towards himself still.

Elaborating on the liking theatre thing and denying it: I think he would stubbornly deny it because he thinks it's 'too feminine' for himself to be interested in and that he thinks it makes him 'less of a man' and shit kinda like that.

I also think because of this he also has horrendous perspectives on showing emotion.

It is already canon that he hides behind a mask at all times, but I feel like even if he 100% trusts someone to be genuine around them he still wouldn't let himself do so due to thinking he's 'less man' if he does things like cry or directly seek any kind of support - especially emotional - outside of his usual compliment fishing behaviours.

I don't think his perspectives usually pertain to others as he's had a lot of exposure to different more up-to-date / nonconforming people with Val and Vel - but I do definitely feel like he has hella internalised bullshit.

Dating him in this aspect would be hard because you would need to be there reassuring him that it's okay to do things which society deems as 'feminine' - especially with what 1950's society deemed as being normal and abnormal for men.

He needs reassurance so bad about it.

I can see him as trying to keep up his mask of not needing any kind of help from you even when it's obvious he's cracking under whatever (pressure, overwhelm, stress, etc. Etc.)

- This man can't dress himself well for shit

(Mostly based upon past Voxtagram posts)

This man's closet outside of his usual outfits is largely button-up/polo shirts and cargo shorts with the most horrifically ugly patterns you've ever seen in your life.

The only reason his outfits look good ever is because of Vel forcing him to not dress like shit.

I can imagine him walking out of his room in a blue and red polo and black cargo shorts with a snapback on and Velvette and Valentino just looking at him in utter horror. 💀

I also like the idea of him having equally chaotic socks. Like you have the usual put together outfit he has on, but then he takes off his shoes, and they are eye shatteringly ugly with words printed on them.

It's ironic because if you date him he will be probably pissy about you dressing well going out together.

He's a hypocrite 🙏

- He doesn't like sweets

I can see him as not liking things that are sweet at all.

He absolutely takes his coffee black as well, it's the most bitterest gag-worthy flavour ever and you are terrified at how much he seems to like the taste.

The sweetest thing he does like in the way of drinks is diet coke.

I feel like he survives on energy drinks, but I don't think he enjoys them at all and just tolerates them.

He doesn't like desserts either. Maybe tiramisu but not frequently.

I can see him actually liking dark chocolate though. I feel like he likes bitter things.

He's totally an absolute cunt about it as well.

If he sees you having coffee with milk/creamer and sugar he's the type of person to go "ugh. I don't know how you can drink that." While fake gagging at you.

He's that mf

A/N I have multiple ideas for drabble/fics, but my brain decided to write this out for now.

If you like sweets a lot he would be annoying as fuck about it 100%

I'm a bit hesitant to post like full fics or drabbles as I don't want to in the moment be like 'yeah, this is great!' Then look at it the next morning and be tweaking out because it feels OOC or I could have worded things better. Perfectionism is a fucking nightmare 🗣/lh

#vox #hazbin hotel #vox headcanons #vox x reader

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allastoredeer · 2 months

Note

Do you have any headcanons about Alastor's participation in WW1? The Selective Service Act of 1917 made it mandatory for men aged 21-30 to register for military service and was later expanded to include men as young as 18, so if the stream saying that Alastor was late thirties to early forties when he died is still canon he'd have lived through that

So, I hadn't gotten to this part in my development of Alastor's backstory, but it got me thinking because, huh, how DID Alastor manage to get out of that?

Unless he just served in WW1. Which...I find oddly funny. I don't know why, but the the image of Alastor in the trenches...

But anyway, you got me curious so I looked into it. You're 100% right about the Selective Service Act of 1917 making it mandatory for men aged 21-30 to register for military service, and they even came up with different "classes" of the men who qualified, and if they exhausted one class, they'd go down to the next.

However, even with the Selective Service Act, there was still a lot of draft evasion going on. In fact, a significant amount of draft evasion happened in the South, which, as I'm sure you know, Louisiana is part of (some of it was in part of Southerners not having documentation, and thus, unable to even legally draft, which would probably give them a whole other slew of problems).

So, I was looking into how people evaded the draft. A lot of it is split up into different groups, like draft avoidance and draft resistance, with their only little list of things, but that's a lot and I don't wanna get into all of that. But my bet is on Alastor doing draft avoidance.

And there were actually quite a few interesting ones, like:

Claiming to have a mental or psychological problem (if you could find a doctor willing to certify that for you)

Student deferment, when someone is primarily in school to learn and study (or obtaining one in an effort to avoid the draft)

Deliberately failing the military intelligence tests

Professing sincere or religious ethical beliefs (join a church, avoid the draft!)

Bribery

and my personal favorite:

Being homosexual.

Because, as you know, the government can't allow the gay in the military!

And look, I'm a silly goober, so of course I immediately went to Alastor claiming to be homosexual. But the thing is, I kind of do think that is something Alastor would do for a majority of reasons.

In the 1920's, social values were evolving, and a lot of postwar "youths" began questioning traditional concepts of family, sexuality, and gender. There were "little Bohemia's" around the US, including in Manhattan and San Francisco, with communities and groups like this, and they weren't exactly unknown.

Back to Alastor, he lived in the French Quarter in New Orleans (or, at least, that's where I think he lived as a majority of mixed-raced Creole people lived there, which we know Alastor canonically is). And it just so happens, that it became the birth place of New Orleans gay community in the 1920's. There were entire gay neighborhoods, there were clubs where people dressed in the clothing of the opposite gender, they had parties and bars, and while it wasn't "the norm" to live this "lifestyle," and there was still a lot of harassment, it was still fairly normal to see. (Of course, then came what we can call the "gay panic" where government started cracking down on it, and claiming the gay community were all predators and pedophiles, and - well, you know. You know.)

But that was after/close to Alastor's death, so...

Anyway, I 100% believe that Alastor did take part and lived in communities like those. Names and labels for those things didn't exist at the time, so it's not like he knows what they're called, but homosexuals, cross-dressing, drag queens, they were normal to him. He's lived with them, partied with them, maybe even tried a few things out himself(so many headcanons, guys. So many).

This is to say, I think Alastor would 100% be comfortable claiming to be homosexual to avoid getting drafted. You've seen getting married for tax benefits, now consider becoming gay for draft evasion! I actually had a pretty fun talk about it with a friend in Discord, which only cemented it in my mind LMAO.

I have SO many headcanons around Alastor and him living in the French Quarter, in gay communities, where they challenged social norms (and we all know how he feels about challenging status quo's 😏)

But if not that, my runner up is that he totally bribed his way out of it. I don't know how he got the money, maybe he killed someone and stole their wallet, IDK, but bribery is a yes from me.

And if not THAT one, then he joined and church and claimed to have sincere religious and ethical beliefs 😇 🙏 (Yes, this is inspired by Nun Alastor, and no, I do not take constructive criticism. That's what happened guys, I was there). Besides, New Orleans was pretty Catholic, I'm sure he could find a church somewhere.

That's my take on it XD I think the one closest to Alastor's canon character would be bribery, but this is fandom, and if I say he claimed to be gay to get out of going to war, then goddammit he claimed to be gay to get out of going to war.

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raffe156 · 1 year

Text

Late Night sparring

Pairing - Price X Tank X Ghost

Summary - A Late Night sparring sessions turns into something more.

Warnings - Smut (18+) Voyeurism, Language, Age gap Price (39) Tank (25) Ghost (36) SoftDom!Price, public sex, praise kink, fingering, Oral (F receiving) P in V, unsafe sex, Ghost being a little simp for Tank, Price likes to watch...

AN- I'm so sorry this took so long! not 100% happy with it, but we'll see what you guys think.

It's kind of filth, I re wrote this about 4 times so please please please let me know what you guys think either by comments, anon asks or however you feel comfortable! I've been in such a writers block headspace that getting this out felt like such an accomplishment haha!

Also enjoy another one of the commissions I had done by the amazingly talented @hffhifjou x

@deadbranch @mildlyhopeless @fanficandartgal @shuttlelauncher81 @a-littlebirdie @soapyghost @boomtowngirl @mostannoyingbillioner @brewed-pangolin @chb-7 @sarcastic-raptor163 @tapioca-marzipan

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters, Only Tank

“Hands where I can see them Riley!” Price shouted from the side lines. Ghost currently had you pinned underneath him both arms locked behind your back pressed to his stomach, face pressed to the floor of the ring.

“Will one do?” Ghost waved his free hand at Price causing his weight to shift fully onto you. You could just make out Price giving him the finger, his brow furrowed.

“Off now…” He made his way over to the edge of the ring, but Ghost didn’t ease up. Instead he leaned down close, you could feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek.

“You don’t want me to get up do you?…I think you like being under me…” it was just quiet enough for Price to miss but he didn’t miss the flush that spread across your face.

“UP NOW!” It was more of a warning that a request now. Ghost made a slow effort to get up, his hands being the last to leave your wrists. They felt bruised but it was a nice ache. You would never admit it to him, but he was right.

‘I think I’m done for tonight cap…I need a shower” You rolled over onto your back flat out. You didn’t even need to look at Price to know that wasn’t happening.

“Ill be the judge of that…I’ll take over the session..” Price shrugged his shoulders, stretched his arms and entered the ring. Ghost shot him a look.

“Maybe we should just hit the showers eh Cap?” Ghost rubbed your calf, you both knew exactly what he meant and the mental image caused your mind to wander…would all 3 of you even fit? The cubicles were small…you and Price just about fit…would Ghost keep his mask on? Did Ghost wear his mask in the shower? You hadn’t realised Price was talking to you till he snapped his fingers in front of your face.

“I said are you ready kid?” Price cocked his eyebrow at you.

“what? Really? I’ve just had my arse handed to me by him…I don’t need another beat down from you! Can we just all go take a shower?” You sat up, looking up at Price from under your lashes…hopefully the little lost lamb look would soften his big bad wolf stance…it didn’t. The pathetic attempt made Ghost scoff…but you and he knew it would have worked on him. Price was a tougher nut to crack. You stood up.

“If that’s what you want then you better get to work…because we aren’t stopping till you get me pinned to the ground” before you could protest Price was on you like a rash, in two moves he had disabled you completely. Both arms behind your back body bent forward. If you weren’t so pissed off this would have been hot, but you knew he meant business an knew he wasn’t joking about not stopping till you pinned him.

*******

It had been about an hour your breath was ragged, the sweat dripping from you, your body ached from being slammed to the ground numerous times by Price his full weight resting on you each time, he didn’t hold back.

Every sly attempt to seduce him or touch him failed and almost always ended up with you on your arse or in a headlock tapping his arm.

“Can’t flirt your way out of a headlock love!”

“How long can you keep this up? Really?” You crouched taking in the few minutes rest. You watched Price from the corner of your eye he circled you like a predator his breathing was deep, though he didn’t look half as worn out as you did, if anything he looked virile, rejuvenated what was he getting out of this? He crouched in front of you a smirk planted across his face.

“You know me Tank I can go all night…”

His smug words had you grabbing at his arm to attempt a throw but instead he pulled you back into him your back pressed to his chest your own arm locking you in place.

“Nearly…” He chuckled in your ear, he knew it enraged you. He knew you were getting ratty now like a toddler that had been deprived of an afternoon nap. You bucked back into him trying and failing to throw him over. His laugh only get louder.

Ghost was silent in the corner, he had watching in awe as the two of you had fought. Watched as your bodies collided and crashed into one another. He watched as if in slow motion you bare and snap your teeth at Price who only returned the aggression in the form or a smirk. It was like a dance and Ghost wanted to cut in.

“Think she’s had enough Price…she’s getting snappy now…literally” Just as he said it you had sunk your teeth into Prices forearm. He kicked your leg out from under you causing you to drop down releasing his arm from your bite, Price went down with you repositioning himself so your arms were completely locked behind you.

“Im sick of this shit…” you were struggling against him so much you hadn’t even clocked Ghost now crouched in front of you. His ski mask was up.

He leaned in his lips grazing yours. It took you by surprise but you welcomed him in, Price watched as you let Ghost slip his tongue into your mouth. He felt you ease up but he didn’t release his hold. He liked the control. He pulled you back.

“Tell me what you want Tank?” Price was in your ear. You let out a sigh.

“Ghost…” you knew the answer was a risky one, but he had wound you up. Ghost looked at you a little smirk on his face, but he knew Price was in charge here still.

“Is that right?…fair enough…” Price slowly released his hold. You looked back…there must be a catch surely it wasn’t that easy? But not to look a gift horse in the mouth as soon as your hands were free they flew up to Ghost face, your thumbs running just under the edge of his mask testing your limits, his hands came up to rest on yours.

“Easy tiger haha” Ghost watched Price from the corner of his eye, what was he up to? Price jumped out of the ring and made his way over to his jacket pulling out a cigar and lighter. Really?

Ghost turned his attention back to you, he was going to make the most of this “free rein”. He gently pushed you back so you were lay flat pulling your shorts off in one quick move. Your underwear was soaked. It made him feral the thought of you getting off on being thrown around and pinned by you Captain and Lieutenant.

He lowered his head his mouth just a few inches from your centre making you scream internally, his hand kneading your inner thigh he lifted his head slightly to plant little kisses close to where his hand rested in between each kiss you could feel the faint nip of his teeth, as he got close he used his other hand to gently pull your underwear to the side. His warm breath caused your nerves to spark and fizz. The sight of you laid open for him made his mouth water like a sour sweet had been placed under his tongue. He noticed your hand fidgeting in anticipation so decide to lace his fingers with yours, his much larger hand nearly swallowing yours as he did he slowly licked a stripe up your core, savouring your taste, smoked honey mixed with salt…it drove him insane as he licked and sucked at your slit you could feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head, as he pushed two fingers inside, you felt your walls clamping down on him and then came the familiar swell in your stomach. You turned your head locking eyes with Price his face mostly distorted by a cloud of thick cigar smoke, but you could just make out his sharp blue eyes.

The thought of Price watching you pushed you over the edge, he didn’t break eye contact as you came.

“Atta girl” the sound of praise from Price flooded your system just like his smoke filled your lungs. Even without touching you he could still cause a stir inside. He still had control. Ghost knew this but he didn’t care, he had you laid out, open for him to explore even if he had to share your attention.

He made his way up your body, taking you in as he did. He almost completely covered you, his body a shield. He had you caged underneath him his arm blocking you from Price’s view. He could see you looking for your Captain, but right now here you were under your Lieutenants command.

“Eyes on me…” he whispered as he undid his pants, pulling his cock out the weight of it resting on your opening. You were pinned under him but you watched his eyes as you managed to roll your hips up into him causing the head of his cock to slip over your clit.

“Fucking HELL” his eyes rolled back as you rolled your hips again for another pass. Ghost couldn’t take it anymore he hooked your legs over his thighs pulling you up as he did supporting you from underneath, you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck. He fisted his cock angling it at your core you were warm an inviting. You looked at him your eyes glossy an wet, you wanted him inside you here an now and you wanted Price to watch him have you. You both looked down to where you were almost joined.

“Ready?” Ghost drew back he knew from last time he had to take it slow allow you to adjust around him.

“Mhmm” you head felt foggy like the smoke from Prices cigar had clouded it. But the feeling of Ghost entering you cleared the fog like a wave, washing it away suddenly all your senses were filled with Ghost, his body heat, his smell cigarettes and mint all filled you up the feeling of his rough hands gripping your arse as you rocked back down onto him. You held on tight pushing yourself into him chest to chest. He could feel your heart racing he wanted you closer needed you closer if he could he would open his chest an keep you there.

His thrusts became rampant, rutting up into you the sounds echoing across the gym. Ghost could feel himself getting close an could tell you were as well by how your walls clung to him reluctant to let him pull out even an inch.

“Cum for me…” he lowered you back down onto the floor of the ring his pace only slowing slightly your legs still wrapped around his waist.

You felt the spring in your stomach coil up tight as Ghost buried his face in your neck.

“Are you gonna be a good girl an cum for your Lieutenant” he growled through gritted teeth into your neck. You turned you head to allow him to get deeper into your clavicle. As your eyes fluttered open you noticed Price was sat closer to the ring slouched and legs spread, cigar still in his mouth puffing away. A smirk on his face was he enjoying this? He knew you were looking for him, knew you needed to know he was watching you. He knew you needed his nod of approval to say you could be a good girl an cum and there it was subtle but it was there. You allowed yourself to fully be devoured by Ghost and swallowed whole, you took all of him in every nerve ending was alight and screaming his name an he knew it he could feel the difference in you, Ghost wanted to give you all of him willed you to take it he only asked for a fraction of you in return as he knew he could never have all of you but for a split second as he glanced down at you he felt like he did.

You both came at the same time you could feel the hot ropes of cum filling you as your bodies eased up. Your panting an moans filled the gym hall. Both trying to catch your breath a haze of lust and body heat surrounded you. Then out of the haze came Prices voice

“Hurry up an hit the showers, you still haven’t pinned me yet Tank…so don’t be thinking we are done for the night…”

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sxcret-garden · 10 months

Text

ღ NCT Dream Jeno x fem-bodied!reader ღ words: ~2.5k ღ genre: college AU, roommates AU, a bit of humor if you squint, smut ((subby) perv!Jeno, a bit of humiliation, handjob (idol receiving), masturbation, voyeurism, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms) ღ warnings: none ღ prompt: “How many times have you jerked off to me?”

It’s a Thursday afternoon like any other - you arrive at home at around 4pm after the end of your last class, you’re slightly exhausted from having a busy day, and you’re craving nothing more than some alone time with your laptop and some comfort food.

Except that you didn’t expect to hear your roommate moan your name upon entering your shared flat. You think you misheard it at first - maybe you’re more tired than you thought and you’re so out of it that you’re having hallucinations? - but then you hear it a second time. Jeno, most likely in his room, is calling out your name loud and clear, followed by a groan that causes blood to rush to your cheeks. You’re a little embarrassed about it at first, but at the same time you find it strangely amusing. And so, you make the most immoral decision in a while, and you draw closer to his room as quietly as possible to eavesdrop.

“Mmmh… feels so good, Y/N…” you hear him mutter. “Your pussy… so tight…” You raise your eyebrows as you're caught off guard by the dirty things leaving his mouth, but at the same time a huge grin appears on your face. It doesn’t come as a surprise that he’s into you - you’ve known that something’s up for weeks, and even your friends who occasionally come over when you’re both home have noticed that he has a crush on you. He hasn’t made any clear advances on you though, and neither would you for as long as you’re stuck living under the same roof. You don’t mind that he obviously treats you differently than his other friends, that he smiles more to himself when he’s around you and that sometimes he stares at you a little too long when he thinks you’re not looking. However, the thought of attempting to date someone you’re already living with would’ve never crossed your mind either.

And still, here you are now, listening in on Jeno getting himself off to what you assume is a very detailed fantasy about you, and you’re somehow not repulsed by that at all. And so you bite your lip in excitement as you hear him groan your name over and over again, spelling out bits and pieces about the mental image in his head.

“Ride me… yeah… just like that…” An uncontrolled moan escapes him, making you think he’s about to cum, and you wonder whether you should announce your presence before, after, or not at all. “Ah… your tits… I love your tits bouncing like that…” And then it happens. You crack up. You make a noise. And at the same time he stops making noise altogether. You’ve given yourself away, and in order to spare him the suspense that you imagine is killing him at this very moment, you step through the half open door. Standing in his doorframe now, your gaze finds his huge hand wrapped around his cock in all its pre-orgasmic glory, and then also his wide open eyes, quivering lips, and deep red cheeks. He gapes at you, opening and closing his mouth like a fish under water, and you almost feel a little sorry for him.

“Excuse me, but would you let me in on the fun or am I supposed to keep pretending I’m not here while you’re getting off to my bouncy tits?” Jeno remains speechless. You’d have thought he’d immediately try to hide, try to talk himself out of this situation, but none of the likes. He just keeps sitting there, at the edge of his bed, frozen.

“What day is it?” That’s the first thing he says when he finally speaks.

“Thursday?”

“Fuck. Sorry. Oh my god. I thought it was Friday. Shit.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you lean against the doorframe. Friday is when you would’ve had an evening class, so it makes sense that he thought he’d be undisturbed for another while. However, this also makes another burning question arise - almost as burning as Jeno’s deep red ears.

“How many times have you jerked off to me?” Jeno looks around the room, obviously in a panic, and somehow his hand is still wrapped around his exposed dick.

“U-uhm… like… today?”

“Lee Jeno, my god. I didn’t think you were such a huge pervert.”

“I… I’m sorry?” Now he grins abashedly, like a five year old boy that has just been caught preparing a prank on someone, which makes quite the contrast to the rest of the position he’s in.

“At least it’s not on my bed…” you comment, and when he seems to run through another circle of internal panic at your words, you immediately brush them off, gesturing wildly. “You know what? No, let’s not talk about this.” Though, if you’re perfectly honest with yourself, on second thought it somehow turns you on to think he’s secretly snuck into your room just to get off on you there.

“I… can I have a minute or two? And then we uh… talk about this?” Your roommate gives you an apologetic yet mischievous grin, and you profusely shake your head.

“No. No, you can not have a minute or two.” And then you push yourself off the doorframe, and you take a few steps to his bed until you’re standing right in front of him. You see him gulp as he looks up at you, and a single drop of sweat makes its way down the side of his face. Perking up an eyebrow, you slip out of your shirt, throwing it to the ground somewhere next to you.

“So… how many times?” You pose the question once again as you put your hands on his shoulders, and a knee between his legs.

“T-today it’s… the first time…”

“And overall?” You lean in and you let your lips ghost over his neck. “Be good and tell me the truth.”

“U-uhm…” Jeno stutters, unable to bring himself to answer. You find it kind of cute, and when you nip at the skin below his ear and you let a palm glide down the shirt covering his stomach, he becomes even more flustered. You decide to tease him for a while, running your fingertips back up and raking them into his hair as you take your sweet time scattering kisses all over his neck. He leans his head back a little, allowing you better access, and you have to grin at how needy he is.

“Been close?”

“Huh?”

“Were you close to having an orgasm when I barged in?” you clarify, and you lift your head to get a good look at his face.

“I-…”

“Just tell me. Maybe I’ll help you out a bit…”

“V-very close…” He’s still embarrassed that you caught him. You can tell by his stammering and by the way his cheeks are still dusted pink, but when you put your hand over his, slowly sliding it towards the tip of his cock in order to take over for him, he relaxes with a sigh.

“Now… how many times?” You stroke him slowly, watching him melt under your touch with a groan.

“F-faster…” he mutters under his breath, and you huff.

“Then answer my question.”

“A few times…?”

“Oh really?” You apply some pressure when going over his tip, and another desperate gasp escapes him.

“M-maybe every Friday… for… some time…”

“You are such a perv,” you say, but at the same time you speed up the movement of your hand. Jeno throws his head into his neck with a groan, digging his fingernails into the bedsheets at his sides.

“I heard you call my name too,” you say. “Wanna let me hear that again? Right in front of me?” If looks could kill you’d be dead by now, but when you cock your head to the side and you stop moving your hand, he’s quick to give in.

“Y/N…” he moans, “keep going. I’m begging you…” You smirk at his request, and you give him what he wants.

“It’s really cute how much control you can have over a guy once you have his dick in your hand.” You say that, not thinking much of it, but it seems to be doing something for him, as he squeezes his eyes shut and moans your name again.

“Y/N… I’m gonna-” His load spills into your hand as he clenches his teeth and a strained groan escapes his throat. You stay like that for a few seconds, drinking up his blissful expression that none other than you is responsible for, and then you get up to grab a tissue from beside his bed to clean yourself up.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry, I-” Jeno gets ready to apologize, pulling his pants back over his softened dick, but you’re quick to cut him off.

“What are you doing?” you ask, unzipping your jeans and slipping out of them. “I’m not doing this for free. Also, I thought you wanted me and my bouncy tits to ride you?” He blushes again at how nonchalantly you say this, but when you also rid yourself of your underwear, now standing completely naked in front of your roommate, he merely gapes at you in disbelief.

“Get naked,” you prompt. “Or are you telling me you’re gonna miss out on this chance?” Jeno doesn’t think twice, and he hastily slips out of all his clothes as you watch him with a victorious smile on your lips. You let yourself marvel at his toned, well-trained body, and once he sits down on his bed completely naked, you crawl on top of him, pushing him back into the blanket by his shoulders.

“Now, tell me again what you almost got yourself off to.” Again, he’s shooting daggers at your wicked grin and your words, but you can also see a certain thrill in his stare as he begins to talk.

“You… on top of me… like right now,” he begins to explain reluctantly as you run your hands down his chest and abs. However, the more your palms roam his body, the more confident he becomes. “I was thinking about you riding me… my hands on your hips, like this.” Jeno grabs your hips at once, giving them a squeeze, and then you allow him to guide them to his core. You roll them in his lap once, and you feel your folds grazing his hardening length.

“You’re already getting hard again just at the thought of it?”

“Aren’t you getting wet at the thought too?” he challenges you, and you can’t exactly deny it. Not when you feel the heat rushing to your core so clearly.

“So? What’s next?” You ignore his attempt at teasing you, and instead you keep rocking your hips, feeling him grow against your slick pussy. He sighs at the friction, and you raise an eyebrow, throwing in, “My boobs?”

“Y-yes…” he answers, and suddenly his stare is glued to your chest. He brings one hand up to squeeze your right tit, and you moan at his touch. It fits into his hand just perfectly, and you too find yourself throwing your head back at the way he gropes you.

“You’re so perverted…” you hum, and then you lift your hips off him for a second. Aligning yourself with his full grown length, you prepare yourself to take him in. And then you let yourself glide down on him, taking in just the tip to tease him, but in that same moment you can clearly feel just the tip isn’t enough for you either.

“Fuck…” you mutter under your breath, hands propped up on his chest.

“Well, you’re the one currently having sex with that perv, so…” Jeno comments. You come back up, having him slide all the way out, before lowering yourself onto him again. You repeat that process a few times, each time taking him in a little deeper, until eventually you both run out of patience, and he takes control with both hands back on your hips. Guiding you all the way down, you gasp at the way he stretches you out, and Jeno gives you a few seconds to adjust to his size. And then, you begin to bounce on top of him, and you find his lustful eyes fixated on your breasts.

“Perv,” you mutter, but that only seems to turn him on more.

“You’re enjoying it,” he throws back, and you can only moan in response.

“Maybe…” But who could blame you, when he feels so good inside you, and when his hips meet you so perfectly every time you sink down onto him. You feel him pressing his thumb against your clit, and it causes you to groan, becoming more eager in your movements.

“You gonna get off on that perv’s cock, huh?” Jeno teases you, directing his full focus on pleasing you. You whine in response, feeling your high approaching at light speed. Something about this situation makes you unbelievably horny, but you currently don’t have the means to figure out what exactly that is. Instead, you focus on moving your hips in just the right way to maximize your own pleasure.

“Fuck, Y/N… you feel so good…” You moan in appreciation, and through a string of curses falling from your lips, your high crashes down on you. You feel yourself clench around his cock, and your thighs tremble as you keep rocking your hips even past your orgasm. You bring Jeno’s hands up to your boobs, letting him squeeze and play with them as he pleases while an expression of utter bliss appears on his face.

“Mmhh… this is even better… than I imagined…” he groans through gritted teeth, and now you feel heat rushing to your cheeks as well because of his boldness. You feel him twitch inside you as your hips keep bouncing on top of him, and then eventually he shuts his eyes tightly and grunts your names as he cums inside you.

You crawl off him, knees still shaky, but you do your best not to let him notice. Then, you collect your clothes, tucking them under your arm.

“I’m going shower,” you inform your roommate, who’s following your every move with his eyes. You can tell he’s unsure what to say, and you’re at least as speechless as he is about what you just did, but you’re a bit better at seeming unbothered. You walk out of the room, and just as you’re right in the doorframe, he calls out to you to make you halt.

“We should do that again sometime,” Jeno blurts out, and you fail to suppress a dirty grin.

“Maybe,” you say. “If I catch you getting off to me again I’ll think about it.” You throw him a wink, and before you can fully register the smirk on his face that’s supposed to tell you he’s accepted your challenge, you leave the room for a nice and hot shower.

#nct dream smut #nct smut #jeno smut #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream drabbles #nct imagines #nct x reader #jeno x reader #jeno imagines #kpop smut #smut

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tickly-tufts · 10 days

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Teased

finally letting miguel be a ler after four whole fics dedicated to wrecking him

ft. lee!peter cuz he’s earned it, and ler!mj cuz i love that for her <3

—

“You paralyzed my husband.”

“He deserved it.”

“Probably, but I’d like an explanation anyway.”

“He was annoying me…” Miguel paused. “…and said I had fangs like a kitty cat.”

It took everything in MJ not to laugh. The mental image was simply too good. Miraculously, she managed to hold back, though she did smile at Miguel’s pout.

“So, you bit him to prove a point?”

“The fangs are no joke,” Miguel defended. Then, sounding just a bit sheepish… “The venom will wear off in an hour.”

Whatever he expected MJ to say next, it wasn’t what she actually asked.

“How much can he feel while he’s stuck like this? Does the venom cause any numbness?”

“He can still feel everything… but this is a punishment. If you’re planning to-“

“That’s not what I mean.” Leaning in with a conspiratorial glint in her eye, MJ made her proposition. “How’d you like to help me get some payback?”

—

Peter’s face lit up when MJ entered the room, and if he’d been able, she knew he would’ve rushed her. Beyond the change in expression, however, he didn’t move a single muscle. Miguel had placed him in the center of their bed, arms laid neatly at his sides. Noticing the pillow under Peter’s head, MJ smiled. What a softie.

“How ya feelin’, Tiger?” She sauntered over, taking a seat right beside her husband.

“Migs is mean,” Peter pouted. “I can’t believe he actually bit me.”

“Well, you did make fun of his fangs. Not your brightest idea,” MJ countered lightly. Peering at his neck, she soon spotted the bite marks. “Want me to kiss it better?” she offered sweetly.

Peter couldn’t nod but his gaze turned hopeful, and MJ leaned down to hover over the marks. Her breath puffed against them, and Peter would’ve shivered, but his muscles simply refused to respond. He smiled when he felt MJ’s lips, soft and warm against his skin. Then she began peppering small kisses along his neck, and he instantly remembered that kisses could tickle.

“Hmph!” Peter stifled the urge to giggle. The situation was already embarrassing enough. At least MJ would be pulling back soon. He just needed to control himself until-

“AH!” he yelped when kissing became nibbling, right where Miguel had bitten him before. “W-Wait, Em- Nohoho!” he cracked when he realized her true intentions.

MJ paused a few seconds later, shifting to whisper in his ear. “Do you remember that time you strung me up in the living room, then decided to tease me until the webs dissolved?”

Oh. Oh no. Peter did remember. He remembered that evening quite fondly, actually. MJ had collapsed into his arms afterwards, thoroughly flushed and swearing revenge. Of course, Peter had laughed it off at the time, doubting she’d ever catch him that compromised. It would be another decade before Miguel found them… and now, he’d served Peter right up for MJ.

“You’ve got to tell me the full story later,” Miguel interjected, done hiding his presence. Peter gawked as MJ patted the other side of the bed, giving Miguel a peck once he was close enough.

“Have you two been plotting against me?!”

“No, I specifically bit you for being a nuisance. The plan was to leave you in here alone… but MJ came up with a better idea.”

MJ beamed at Miguel, then focused her attention back on Peter. “Now, let’s find out where you’re most sensitive…” Peter cringed as his past words were echoed back at him.

Her fingers grazed across his ribs first, nails easily felt even through his shirt. It really wasn’t that bad a spot, but Peter’s breath still hitched at the touch. He had no chance of resistance, mouth curling up as nails dragged down. The fact he couldn’t even try to turn away made him overly aware of his own nerves.

MJ went from his uppermost left rib all the way to the bottom, then wiggled her fingers on the way back up. It was ticklish enough to earn a few snickers, but nothing too dramatic yet. That was until Peter felt a dig on his right, squawking when the tickling crept between his ribs.

“Wait- Wahahait!”

Miguel did not wait, fingers burrowing in without hesitation.

Peter’s mind demanded he move, but all he could physically do was laugh. It only spiraled when MJ switched spots, pinching at his much more ticklish side. The squeal he couldn’t quite suppress didn’t escape either tormentor’s notice.

“Shitshitshit! Thahat’s sohoho unfahahahair!” Peter swore when Miguel’s claws traced down his other side.

Claws and nails… it was a deadly combination. Peter couldn’t say which side was worse. If he’d been able, he would’ve been wriggling from one to the other, indecisive and frenzied. Unfortunately, as things stood, he had no choice but to endure both together. Miguel scratched carefully along his right flank, while MJ raked ruthlessly at his left.

“Mehehean! You’re bohohoth so mehean!”

“Pobrecito,” Miguel replied.

“Oh, babe, you think this is mean? Just you wait,” MJ promised.

A nervous thrill shot straight through him. How wrecked would he be by the end of this? He’d never felt so uniquely defenseless, safe from real harm, but not from this. His sides were bad, but not terrible. What would happen when they found his actual weakness?

All these thoughts were quickly halted by MJ poking around his waist.

“Nonono- Dohohon’t!” Peter giggled uncontrollably.

“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re helpless,” MJ cooed, kneading his love handles. Her hands slipped under the hem of his shirt, bypassing his only means of defense. It tickled so much that Peter’s laughter pitched higher, which didn’t escape Miguel’s notice.

“Que precioso,” Miguel teased, knowing it was a phrase Peter would understand. Right on cue, Peter blushed, and Miguel smirked in satisfaction. It was the exact reaction he’d been seeking, after so many instances of Peter flustering him.

Revenge garnished with extra affection, easily shared among three.

Peter flushed even further when MJ proceeded to lift his shirt. She pushed the hem all the way to his chest, exposing his pale abdomen. Just like that, he was on display for his equally gorgeous wife and boyfriend… and then insecurity reared its head, reminding him of his current physique.

Objectively, it was absurd. They'd both seen his gut before, and he was hardly one for bashfulness nowadays… but still, to have all their attention focused right there, while he couldn’t even cover his face? Apparently that was just a bit too much. Peter didn’t tense up, mainly because he couldn’t, yet his partners still noticed the shift in his mood. Of course they did... observant as ever. He shut his eyes to avoid examining their expressions.

There was a beat, then finally movement, but not from the direction he'd been expecting. Instead of MJ, sweet and familiar... it was Miguel whose lips brushed bare skin first. Peter's eyes shot back open and MJ caught his gaze, understanding reflected in her own. Then she glanced at Miguel, her lips quirking, and Peter’s attention jumped to him.

His heart skipped when he found Miguel staring, intense and analytical. Then it dropped as Miguel inhaled deeply, before blowing the most devastatingly ticklish of raspberries.

Peter screeched, barely calming when Miguel ultimately switched to nibbling. The tips of Miguel’s fangs grazed against his belly, pressing down too gently to break any skin. That was when MJ joined back in, too, peppering tickly kisses wherever Miguel wasn't. Peter giggled, then released a squeak when she poked at the softest part of his stomach.

If Peter had been a luckier man, the pair might've concluded around there. He rarely was, though, so of course they weren't done. MJ's next statement sealed his fate.

"We should lift his arms," she suggested to Miguel, and Peter nearly broke into a cold sweat. He didn't say a word as they guided his limbs. Miguel raised an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic silence.

"Hold on, are you nervous?" he had to ask, curious amusement coloring his tone.

"Wha- No! I'm just... getting tired?" Not entirely false, but not convincing either.

Indirectly calling his bluff, MJ reached out a hand, watching Peter's eyes. He anxiously tracked her slow approach, worsening the suspense for himself. Abruptly, Miguel inched forward, and Peter would've flinched if he'd been able. There was no way to track both of them.

Not that it mattered, once the tickling restarted.

"NOHOT THEHEHERE!" Peter screeched after a swear unbecoming of the Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman. MJ's nails scribbled at his left underarm, while Miguel's thumb massaged his right hollow. “DOHON'T- I CAHAHAN’T!" He wanted to thrash, but he couldn't even manage a twitch. "PLEHEHEHEASE!” It was a maddening experience. Being tied up had nothing on this.

If only he could lower his arms, or twist away, or struggle at all. It didn't help that he was just too damn ticklish in that spot. Miguel and MJ exploited his weakness in distinctly different ways, and thus it didn't take long at all for the contrasting sensations to overwhelm him.

As soon as tears rolled down Peter’s cheeks, they both pulled back to let him breathe.

“Alright there, Tiger?” MJ pet his hair, a hint of worry entering her voice.

“…Could I get some water?”

His partners relaxed, and Miguel nodded. “Be right back.” He returned a minute later with a bottle and towel, first wiping Peter’s face, then sitting him up on the pillows, then carefully lifting the bottle to his lips.

“Thanks,” Peter said after a long drink. “You two are weirdly diabolical.” He glanced at MJ. “Especially you.”

“Just means you have a type,” MJ countered smoothly.

"Hot and sadistic?"

"You said it, not me~"

And then before his brain could stop his mouth-

"Just as ticklish, too." Why would he say that.

Miguel's eyes narrowed dangerously.

“You know, we’ve still got time before the venom wears off.”

“Doesn’t seemed like he’s really learned his lesson, huh?”

Peter squeaked when something soft caressed his ear. MJ had a feather… no, make that two.

“W-When did you get those?!” He watched helplessly as she handed the second feather to Miguel.

“Aww, did you think I came unprepared? I knew you’d talk back enough to earn this~”

And then both feathers were twirling inside his ears, and he could only squeal for mercy.

#also happy ATSVersary to those reading the day im posting!#tickling #a tickly fic #peter b parker #miguel o'hara #mary jane watson #atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #spiderparents #spideysjane

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yandere-sins · 1 year

Note

So I have probably a bit peculiar of a request so feel free to decline writing this if it’s not to your liking! I know everyone likes to be the center of a yandere’s attention but I CRACK under large amounts of attention so I always like to picture a polyam trio. Me, a Yandere, and Yandere’s darling. Usually with some major connection to Darling like a best friend or something and I’m just such a crybaby and soft and submissive (and so stupid that I probably don’t even realize something wrong is going on) that Yandere can’t help but take a liking to me too, whether as a less intense obsession or as like a pet or something, I just like Yanderes thinking of me as cute and liking me (but not being the full center of their attention like Darling) and Darling being protective of me cause they’re scared I’ll get their treatment or get hurt.

So uh, 👉👈, could I maybe request something like that with Ghost or König? I think it would work better with Ghost since you said he shares in your nsfw with him (and I REALLY like the Darling you described in your fic, the mental image of them trying to stab Ghost with a fork keeps making me giggle). If it’s not too much to ask and if you like it! Of course you’re always free to decline and I’m sorry that this dragged on way too long (I’m screaming while typing this cause I get so shy when trying to request something)

To be honest, I feel bad throwing you under the bus here, but you kinda laid it out for me xD Enjoy! No hard feelings personally, oki? Also I kept the reader GN in this version, but the friend is AFAB.

Warning: Yandere, Heavy Sexual Content

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"Do the honors then."

The hard slap to your bum made you tumble, feet giving way until your knees hit the ground. You yelped as you fell in front of your friend, her arms shooting out to steady you, helping you. Just like she always did. Your hands landed on her thighs, legs spread with your body caught between them. And you jerked your hands away just as quickly as you realized the position you were in. The whole situation had been one big, confusing mess, but you still got surprised by some actions your captor took, never able to read his next move.

Ghost, he forced your best friend to call him in case she needed to address him. And she did—a lot. Courageously fighting him and his ill-willed actions toward you two as best as she could with someone so much superior, both in strength and skills, as her opponent. However, Sir was the more appropriate option for you. It created a certain distance between you and him, a distance you liked. But at the same time, it made the lack of distance between him and your friend all the more apparent. You were a small toy to consider; she was the prize he wanted. You knew he had plans to kill you, but that was the only time she pleaded with him, shielding you while you cowered behind her, sobbing in terror.

If only you two hadn't visited the bar full of mercenaries and soldiers that night. Then you'd never have to go through this demeaning, horrific experience. You banished the thought of "If only your friend hadn't insisted you come with her when she hooked up with some random dude," as it only brought more sorrow than it helped. Pushing the blame onto her wouldn't solve the problem you were facing. It wasn't her fault she met a straight-up psycho who intended to take advantage of her drunkenness, forcing himself on her with a knife to her throat as you had to watch on helplessly, only to be 'rescued' by an even bigger madman. Maybe guys in the army were just sick by nature. Otherwise, you couldn't explain the bad luck of you two.

And the last spark of luck you two had also seemed to have run out.

"Go on, prepare her. You wouldn't want your friend to hurt, would you?"

Dragging a chair close, Ghost sat down with a small groan, rolling his shoulder as he focused his eyes on you. Immediately, you felt the shivers run down your spine like a knife dragging down your skin, goosebumps spreading all over your body, with his gaze crawling over you. Like always, you were the one to avert your eyes first, your sight falling to his hands hanging in his lap, the gun dangling from his fingers. He'd shoot you faster than you'd ever manage to lunge for it. You knew that. Besides, you didn't even have the courage to face him, much less defy him.

"I- I can't!" you complained meekly, your voice barely loud enough for him to hear. You and your friend weren't in that kind of relationship. You couldn't just go down on her on a whim!

For the longest time after he kidnapped you from that bar—under the guise of 'helping' you two intoxicated strangers—you two managed to avoid that. Sex. He had forced himself on your friend more than once, pulling her into his lap and grinding her over his cock, kissing her when she refused to give him attention, making her suck his fingers and swear to be his possession to protect you. But until now, Ghost never demanded her body like he did that night.

The first night you tried to stand up for her.

It was a spur-of-the-moment decision to tell him she wasn't ready for this. That she wouldn't enjoy it if he forced her to. That she needed to prepare—mentally and physically. It was the first time you held his glare for more than a few seconds as he stilled, mustering you. Only for you to submit to his stare with a pleading, "Please..." ending in him pushing you toward her instead.

"We're not like that! We don't--"

Heaving a deep sigh, Ghost gripped the top of his gun, cocking it. Lifting it lazily, he pointed it at your friend's head, putting her at the receiving end of his threats for the first time. Usually, it was you who he used to persuade her, but this time, he made it clear who the next bullet would go to. Dread and despair mixed in your stomach, weighing down as your breath hitched. Your best friend gulped as she stared at the barrel of the gun, only to avoid her gaze as well, looking down at you nervously.

She didn't want this either. But what choice did you have?

"Prepare her. I won't repeat myself."

Gulping, you faced forward, right between her legs. You didn't know where to start when you reached up to the waistband of her skirt when her hand suddenly clasped around yours. "Don't--" she stopped you, only to hesitate. She didn't have a choice either. You two had to do this. Whatever this was, it wasn't an existence worth living. Kidnapped and enslaved, forced to do things you didn't want to do. But you couldn't think about throwing away your lives either and letting this bastard win.

"It's okay," you quaked, just as uncomfortable and nervous, devastated to be the one who had to do this to her. But she just nodded, squeezing your hand before helping you tug off her skirt and panties, shame overcoming her as the fabric slipped off her legs, which she quickly closed.

You heard the cracking of the chair as Ghost leaned back, letting out a heavy breath. The gun sunk back to his lap as he watched you two with keen eyes, like a hawk focusing on his prey. You forced your hand between her thighs, gently pushing while you kept reassuring her, "It's okay. I'll be gentle. Everything will be alright."

But maybe you were saying these words more to yourself than her.

Tears were brimming in her eyes, embarrassment mixing with the unwillingness to do this. But she averted her face completely before spreading her legs again, letting you inch closer.

Her pussy was, for the lack of a better word, fucking beautiful. She shaved for the night out, though you couldn't find any fault with the sweet little curls cleanly shaved into a triangle. Her lips parted beautifully, even though she flinched from your cold, shivering fingers, revealing the entrance and the sweet little nub on top of it completely to you.

Behind you, the chair screeched as Ghost dragged it closer to the show, his chest pressing into your back with how close he suddenly was, peering over your head.

"Look at that sweet, little cunt," he mumbled appreciatively, his gruff and deep voice deliciously licking up your spine from behind you, setting off all the alarms inside you. You wanted to scoot away and hide, but you were trapped between the soldier and your best friend, giving you no chance to flee. You didn't just imagine his presence either, as one hand crawled to the back of your neck, making you squeak as he pushed you forward, mere inches from your friend's pussy.

You made the mistake of glancing up, meeting her horrified, embarrassed gaze. But what freaked you out was the small spark of excitement anyone would probably feel, knowing what was going to happen.

Ghost shook you like an unruly dog by the scruff, directing your focus ahead again as he reached out to spread her labia in your stead. "That's the right place, Newbie," he instructed, and you gulped, knowing there was no getting out of this anymore. You had to do it.

Tentatively, you slipped your tongue from between your lips, stiff and unmoving. But even with just the tip out, Ghost slammed you forward, burying your face in your friend's cunt. You struggled with panic, your tongue licking over her entrance for the first time, your nose brushing over her clit, and to your horror, you heard her gasp, only confirming the shit job you were doing...

Or not.

"Lick," Ghost ordered, keeping you in place while you put your hands back on her thighs, holding on to them for dear life as you forced yourself to obey. It made her flinch, but you gave your first stroke with your tongue, and her breath hitched curtly, a noise that didn't go unnoticed.

"You'll come to like it soon enough," Ghost chuckled, a strange sound from under his mask. You had no idea who he said it to, but his hand finally released its death grip on your neck, giving you two encouraging pats between your shoulder blades, urging you on.

And you got to work.

The faster you'd get this over with, the better, you were sure. Your friend didn't want you to, you didn't want to, and Ghost probably didn't want you to please her like this either, using the opportunity as a sort of torture or punishment rather than his own enjoyment.

Prying her entrance open with your tongue was so easy, you were almost unsure if you were doing it right. You never went down on someone before, so every sensation was new and strange. Even with her taste dancing on your tongue—and you thanked the gods for the shower you two were allowed to take just hours prior—you felt little to no arousal, the fear keeping it at bay. But it seemed to be quite different for your friend.

Her walls greeted you eagerly, insides quivering as you plunged in, twisting and churning through her hole. Your hands moved further up, taking back her lips from Ghost, who released them for you to handle. A small curiosity spread through your mind as you prepared your friend for the horror yet to come, and you raised your chin, slipping out of her to find the little knob of nerves on top, sliding your tongue over it completely before pressing your lips around it.

Your friend let out a muffled gasp, clasping her hand over her mouth as your eyes met. More and more arousal clouded her gaze, replacing the horror. You tested suckling on her clit, and her head rolled back as she moaned, a new sweet spot unlocked on her body that you found.

The chair banged loudly against the ground as Ghost pushed away from it, caging your friend between the bed she was sitting on and his body, and using one hand to grab her hair, forcing her to look up at him. "You like that, Darlin'? Having your cunt licked by your friend? They're doing a good job, yeah?"

Forcing her mouth shut, defying him the answers he wanted, the only sounds she made were held-back moans as you continued to tease her. Something about what you were doing was working—that much was sure. More and more juices began dripping out of her, no small amount landing on your tongue and getting spread all over her cunt. You didn't mind the taste; it almost became comforting.

When you returned to her clit, her legs snapped shut, caging you between them like your friend was confined between Ghost and the bed. You kept roaming through her folds, working your way inside her and trying to reach her clit again, knowing that whatever you were doing was working. You were helpful. Whatever that bastard had planned for her, thanks to you, it wouldn't be so bad, for sure!

"Be honest, Darlin', you're loving this. You're getting off on your friend eating you out, yeah? You're close? Come on, Love, tell me, and I'll allow it. Tell me how good they're making you feel."

Ghost's teases from above didn't really reach your mind as you concentrated on the task at hand (or tongue). Finally, there was something you could do, and it was working. Your friend was quivering before you, juices dripping from her cunt as a strangled moan escaped her.

"Admit it, Princess, or we'll be here for another couple of hours," Ghost joked, following it up with a husky chuckle as he watched your best friend strain herself to keep control. He could have pried you off any second from her, especially with how little you were following their one-sided conversation, understanding what was happening. You were too focused on the success and being able to help for once, not being the hindrance in the way that needed protection.

"Fuck!" she suddenly yelled, spitting the word into his masked face as she glared at him. That was enough to finally tear you out of your trance, and Ghost's raspy laugh echoed through the room.

"What...?" you asked, pulling away from her, confused and unsure of what was happening. Did you hurt her? Did he hurt her?

But both of their attention snapped to you suddenly, pressure rising. Suddenly, your friend reached out, placing her hands at the sides of your head as she guided your face forward again. "Don't stop," she sighed needily, biting her lip. "It feels so fucking good, don't fucking stop."

"Atta girl," Ghost mused, and you could hear the smug grin playing on his lips even without seeing it. "Finally ready to admit it?"

"Yes! Yes, I admit it! I'm so close! Don't stop now, you hear me?!"

Suddenly it wasn't Ghost forcing you forward, but the friend you were protecting by sinking to this level. You were hesitant, but the mere waft of your breath was enough to make her shudder.

"You heard the lady, don't stop," Ghost finally decided to join the coaxing, pleased with her admitting her feelings, and you stretched out your tongue again, letting out a muffled complaint as your head was pressed tightly into her cunt. You were once again back to struggling, all while the smug bastard was laughing at your misery, and your friend moaned out loudly in pleasure. This was not the way things should be. You weren't a fucktoy for her to enjoy. But apparently, being close to an orgasm made anyone lose their reason.

A scream got caught in her throat as her thighs tightened around you, all of her limbs keeping you in place, making you suffocate on her juices and heat. Her body shivered violently as she came from your tongue, head thrown back and toes curling. It was only a few seconds, but you never felt closer to death with her vice grip on you and the very real lack of air between her legs.

At the same time, you were ashamed.

Embarrassed that you were forced to pleasure your best friend. Ashamed to be treated inhumanly and like a fucktoy, your feelings of no regard in this situation. It was one thing that Ghost didn't care about you, only keeping you alive for your friend's sake. You didn't want his attention, didn't want him to care for you. But with even your friend entering this mindset, you felt the tears burn in your eyes, sobs escaping you when she finally let go.

"My, my," Ghost chuckled, stepping up between you two.

"Thank you for your hard work," he said mockingly as you coughed and wiped your mouth. No amount of mouth water would be able to get the taste of your friend and this experience out of your head.

"No, really," he added, reaching down to grab you by the collar of your shirt, pulling you to your feet, and using his foot to push the chair up from the floor, so he could sit you down on top of it. "I'll have to reward you. You did make this so much easier for me. So if you stay right here and be quiet while I fuck your friend..."

Words trailing off, he stepped up to the bed again. Gun in hand, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up. You finally got a good look on her face, the tears streaming from her eyes as she could barely glance at you. Guilt and shame were etched into her expression, the horror of what was still awaiting her only registering when Ghost pulled her into his lap, his hand crawling between her legs as he unzipped his trousers, rummaging for his cock.

Her eyes blown wide in panic, she began to struggle, but Ghost only needed one hand to keep her in place. You bit your lip, wanting to help her, but...

Instead, you found Ghost's eyes from over her shoulder. Eyes that told you not to do anything stupid. To stay in your fucking place. Your friend was about to get impaled on his massive cock that sprung free from his briefs, thick and ready, hard from watching his object of desire be pleasured by her pathetic friend. At least, you believed that's how he saw you. She gasped, and you flinched just as hard at the length and girth he displayed confidently. Even with your preparations, you couldn't imagine this thing fitting inside the pretty, tight cunt you just licked.

"If you can be good and quiet, I'll allow you to eat my cum out of her pussy. I'm sure she'd enjoy that just as much. Can you be good and quiet?"

You gulped, nothing left but bitterness on your tongue as you forced yourself to look away, swallowing down your feelings as you had to listen to his cock slipping into her dripping cunt. You let it happen. Your friend let out a pained scream, the sound getting stuck in her throat before it turned into a moan, both of them groaning in unison. In this strange situation, you were the odd one out, the third wheel, the tolerated one. But it was still you and your friend against your captor, trying to survive this, no matter what. Even though you lifted no finger to help her this time, bitter about the way she treated you and helpless against Ghost.

And so you opened your mouth to say the only thing you knew would be allowed at that moment. The only thing he could possibly want to hear from you before the silence he demanded of his darling's pet friend.

"Yes, Sir."

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