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#thank you for this prompt i'm obsessed
firstkanaphans · 8 months
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I love these prompts. How about J for AlanGaipa?
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[J]oking about kissing—and then actually doing it::
Alan was drunk. He hadn’t meant to be—he was usually very good at holding his liquor—but some things you just weren’t meant to go through sober and attending the wedding of an ex was apparently one of them. He’d started the evening off with a shot to settle his nerves and it had all been downhill from there. 
It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy for Wen. They hadn’t been good for each other—he realized that now—but seeing him at the front of a church smiling as he made promises of forever brought back memories Alan had tried very hard to bury. He wasn’t sad so much as lonely. So, in what he could only describe as a fit of deep depression, he stole a bottle of wine from the bar and snuck away to drink it.
He ended up sprawled out on the grass in the back corner of the spacious gardens where the reception was being held and although the sounds from the party drifted out to him, it was far enough away that he felt like he was alone. Or at least he had until a man turned the corner, spotted him, and stopped in his tracks. 
Alan was drunk enough that he had to squint to bring the man into focus. Only then did he recognize Gaipa. He tried to sit up straighter in an effort to maintain just a bit of dignity in front of a client, but he immediately slunk back down again. He didn’t have the energy—or the sobriety—for professionalism tonight. He took another swig from the wine bottle instead.
“Khun Alan,” Gaipa greeted. “Are you hiding, too?”
“My ex just married the hottest man I’ve ever seen in my life,” Alan grumbled. “Of course I’m hiding.”
Gaipa chuckled and then, to Alan’s surprise, took a seat on the ground next to him. “Mind if I join you?”
Alan made a barely intelligible noise of consent and Gaipa smiled at him softly before turning his attention to the sky. Alan tried to follow his gaze, but looking upwards made him feel dizzy, so he settled for staring at Gaipa instead. The moonlight shining off of his skin made him look like a statue: beautiful and stoic. Alan wanted to admire him. 
“What are you hiding for?” Alan asked after almost a minute of silence. “I thought you were part of their happy little chicken cult.”
“Chicken cult?” Gaipa laughed.
Alan waved him off. “You know what I mean.”
Gaipa just stared at him, that ever-present kindness in his eyes. There was something else there this time, though. A darkness that Alan often saw reflected in his own. Gaipa looked away.
“I might have spent a good decade of my life in love with one of the grooms,” he said forlornly. “I guess I’m just mourning what could have been. But it’s fine. It’s totally fine. Would you mind if I had a sip of that?”
Alan passed over the wine bottle and Gaipa took several large gulps before lowering it with a wince. “I don’t actually like wine,” he said in explanation. 
That didn’t surprise Alan. Gaipa was young and uncomplicated. He was also very, very pretty.
“It’s his loss, you know,” Alan said, taking the wine bottle back from him. “Unfortunately, your precious Uncle Jim has horrible taste in men.”
A slight blush rose to Gaipa’s cheeks. Alan wasn’t sure if it was because of the words or the wine. 
“It’s their loss,” Gaipa corrected. “Wen was an idiot for leaving you. If only they could see us now…”
“Drunk and pining?” Alan asked.
“No.” Gaipa laughed. “Together. Trash talking them at their own wedding. You know, I bet between the two of us, we know all of their dirty little secrets. We’re a force to be reckoned with. They should fear us.”
“Oh, if they saw us together, they would hate it,” Alan said. “Can you imagine? Just an ever-constant reminder of their past mistakes.”
It was a nice thought. And not just because Alan wanted Wen to see that he still had options. It was nice because it was Gaipa and sitting here with him was the least lonely Alan had felt in weeks. 
The two of them looked at each other as the words and the alcohol settled between them and Alan could tell that they were thinking the exact same thing. He wasn’t sure which of them moved first, but the next thing he knew, they were kissing.
Gaipa’s lips tasted like sweet red wine and revenge.
When Alan finally pulled away, his heart was racing, inundated with feelings he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Gaipa didn’t run. He just sat there, his mouth open in surprise.
“I don’t think it’ll work unless they can actually see us,” Gaipa said, but Alan’s desires had suddenly changed. This moment wasn’t for Wen anymore. It was for him. So he leaned in, tangled his fingers in Gaipa’s hair, and kissed him again until the wedding became nothing more than background noise.
[Part 2 here]
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doodleodds · 2 years
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royalty & fairy tale au’s are meant to be mixed and u can’t change my mind
Late shuake week 2022 day 3 - Royalty AU
#shuakeweek2022#akechi goro#kurusu akira#I JUST REALLY LOVE SLEEPING BEAUTY OK#or well. i love the idea of 'sleeping curses.' idk why! they've always fascinated me#i used to be obsessed with aurora and snow white for that reason#and so here i am! as always! projecting this interest of mine onto my favorite characters :)#also for reference because i just realized how weird it reads: goro's gonna be in the tallest tower when he's cursed#that's why akira's got a reason to climb it. so. yeah#also in case you were wondering why i said 'see you tomorrow with more art' and then proceeded not to post for.....four days:#1) work decided that i'm going to be doing more hours so i now have very little free time;#2) i decided to actually try my hand at coloring again like an IDIOT and now here we are. sigh. coloring is hard#i was trying to hard not to just overdose on comic dots again lol & it resulted in this nonsense. me and my one very textured stone wall#ANYWAY lmao even though i missed like. every single day of akeshu week so far i'm still gonna be doing the prompts#just at my own pace! so. hopefully expect more art. soon. ish. hopefully not with another uhhh 2 month gap like last year lol#also quick fun fact since you made it this far in my tags! that second page originally wasn't supposed to be there!#i drew sleeping goro just cause i could and i was just gonna stick him under a read more but then i got attached lmao#and now he's in the main post! :D yayyyyyy goro#ANYWAY that was super long. thanks for reading & i hope u have a lovely day!!!!
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kaizokunoyume · 5 months
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Fashionweek (Modern)
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kanerallels · 8 months
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For the first line game :D:
"Do you ever stop the brain to mouth connection?"
“Do you ever stop the brain to mouth connection?”
Rolling his eyes, Ezra said, “Do you ever stop the stupid to action connection?”
“You are acting like a child,” the Imperial informed him— Ezra still hadn’t gotten his name, as they were a little busy not dying.
Tugging on the cable again, he replied, “Jokes on you, I am a child. Now come check and see if this rope is gonna hold you on the way down— what?”
The man was staring at him oddly. “Nothing. I suppose I didn’t realize— nothing. We should keep moving— there’s no telling what these tentacled monsters of yours will do next.”
“And yet, that still hasn’t prevented your boss from trying to kill me,” Ezra said. “Cause. Ya know. Stupid.”
“Well you won’t hear me arguing there,” the Imperial muttered.
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grissomesque · 9 months
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Okay, so for the “I wish you would write a fic where” ask game … you don’t actually have to do this but —
Early seasons Voyager Tom Paris gets technobabbled in a shuttle to SNW. And he’s like, okay, okay, okay. Cool captain (not as pretty), retro tech (not 20th century), fun times (actually, yes, with a more chill and silly crew). But Tom’s also gotta dodge (great?) grandma Paris (the Shohreh Aghdashloo character from the Kelvinverse) and other Starfleet folks to not mess up the timeline and, um, no holodecks so that’s a bummer. And Tom ends up having this really great talk with Ortegas about flying being about trust in yourself and your ship and crew … and Tom misses his ship and crew. He even misses leola root. So he and Ortegas figure out to technobabble him back and — since this is you — when Tom gets back he talks to Janeway about what happened (Temporal Prime Directive? To hell with it.) and how Starfleet was different then. He felt different there. And he liked it. He liked feeling less bound by regulations and more seat-of-the-pants. And Janeway tips her hand that sometimes she feels the same way … about a lot of things (long, lingering look) … and what would Tom do if Voyager wasn’t such a regulations-and-protocol ship? And, of course, he kisses her and she kisses him back and happy, happy, happy.
Ahem.
Anyway.
Yeah.
“The Delta Flyer,” Kathryn says, thoughtful.
Tom frowns. “What about it?”
“What you’re describing. It’s a bit like the Flyer, isn’t? That shuttle is like a thing out of time with all its buttons and dials and manual interfaces. You’ve got both more and less control, in a way. Less of a… safety net.” She smiles, a little wistfully. “And you’re more present at that helm. Me, too.”
Tom is almost afraid to trust what he thinks he’s hearing. But the way he sees it, he’s got two options here: maintain the status quo, just long looks and the occasional brush of her hand on his arm keeping them afloat for the next seventy-five years… Or, pack everything he’s just learned from his trip through time, the fearlessness of Erica Ortegas, the sheer, heart-pounding recklessness of the 2250s, into one grand gesture that neither of them—for better or worse–will be able to go on ignoring.
Because he did imagine staying, on Pike’s Enterprise. He thinks he might've fit in better in the past. But Temporal Prime Directive aside, he’d known that for all the things he might’ve gained—all the modern conveniences he could live without—there is this one thing, this one hope, that he could not leave behind.
So he kisses her.
Immediately, he feels her twist a little, twist away from him, and shit, shit he’s terrified he’s just made a serious mistake, but then he hears a clink and he realizes she was still holding her cup and saucer and now her hands are sliding up his chest, around his neck, and she’s leaning in, and she’s kissing him, kissing him, kissing him back.
And then a thought occurs to him, and he pulls back just enough to see her face.
“But—the Delta Flyer design,” he asks, urgent, breathless. “You like it, right?”
“I like it,” she confirms. Her laugh is low in her throat and her cheeks are flushed and all of this makes him feel a little lightheaded, makes him want to kiss her again, especially, especially when she orders the computer to secure her ready room doors. There is, in fact, nothing else in all the galaxy he wants so much as to kiss her again right this second, because in a way, after all, he did wait over a century for this chance.
And so he does.
[Send me whatever and I'll write you a thing!]
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doctorbrown · 7 months
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DOCTOBER '23 ⸺ 「 31 / 31 * FINALE | HEART 」
March 8, 1929
Whenever Erhardt was at the courthouse, if Emmett wasn't in his room, pouring over works that would make his father red-faced and angry, he could be found with a pillow propped up against the grandfather clock in the living room, leaning back and reading whatever caught his eye this time.
It had become a pattern over the years, one Sarah had learned quite quickly after the first two times wondering where her son had run off to when he wasn't anywhere to be found in his room. Emmett was at his most comfortable when his father wasn't at home—and she couldn't blame him for that, despite how she'd tried to soften the tension between her husband and her child—and he didn't hesitate to take full advantage of the house when it was open to him.
Sarah quirks a brow upon seeing the book clutched in Emmett's hands. ❝Are you reading one of my science-fiction novels again?❞
❝Father isn't home to yell at me for wasting my time reading this worthless trash.❞ He puts on his best impression of his father as he can, mimicking the gruffness of his voice and the accent he'd yet to lose even after nearly twenty years here. ❝He wouldn't even listen to me when I told them they were educational, because they were about science.❞
Sometimes, his parents seem like fire and ice compared to each other, opposites in every way eternally fated to clash, especially where their interests are concerned; there are days he simply can't understand how they get along.
❝I found this hidden in your library.❞ He holds up the copy of A Voyage to Arcturus he'd swiped, knowing he won't be reproached for his choice in reading material. Finally, he looks away from the book, and Emmett purses his lips, studying his mother's done-up hair and full state of dress, coming to the conclusion she must be going out again for some of the day's chores.
He wonders if this time, he'll be forced to go along.
❝You know your father usually gets home around five,❞ she says, prompting Emmett to lift his head as high as he can to see the hands of the grandfather clock above him, ❝so be cautious how long you spend out here, dear.❞ The time currently reads 11:00 exactly and he frowns.
❝Is Father ever going to get our grandfather clock repaired? It has been broken for weeks and I really liked the hourly chimes.❞
❝He said he sent out for a repairman, but that was two weeks ago and I've heard nothing since. At this rate, I don't know when it'll be repaired. I'll bring it up to him tonight at dinner. Speaking of—Emmett, I'm going out to pick up some groceries. I trust you'll behave for a few hours while I'm out?❞
Emmett nods and with a quick goodbye, Sarah closes the door behind her, leaving him alone.
The book in his hands no longer holds his interest. Now that they've brought it up, all he can think about is the broken clock, whose mechanical songs have been sorely missed over the past few weeks. The clock had always been a constant, a comfort, a staple in the house as far back as he can remember, and he'd found himself on more than one occasion peering into the glass, watching the pendulum swing and the weights dance with their precise, rhythmic grace.
It was as close to watching time live and breathe as he could get and it had captivated him, as did the smaller clocks set up in the house.
Just a few months ago, he'd disassembled the small bedside clock in his room to see how it worked and had managed to put it back together without either of his parents figuring out.
If he could do that, surely he could fix this one, his favourite clock in the entire house.
His father clearly didn't see the importance of having it operational again—that, or he simply didn't care—and he could already imagine how the conversation at dinner would go. Poorly. And the clock would remain broken for another several weeks.
If he didn't, nobody else would.
Emmett checks to make sure his mother really has left before he hurries to the storage room to dig out the toolbox he'd seen his father use several times.
It's heavier than he remembers, but his mind is made up and nothing is going to get in the way of his goal, even if he has to drag the box the rest of the way towards the house.
As he peers inside the glass, he starts to take stock of all the pieces within, studying each of them carefully as if the answer will suddenly leap out at him. There could be any number of things that silenced the clock and as far as he's concerned, the best solution is to start carefully removing pieces until he can pinpoint the culprit.
For a moment, the task feels gargantuan, what with all the sprawling, delicate clockwork, but he's got his wits, his determination, and his trusty toolbox, so as he stands on his toes, reminding himself to be slow and cautious, it starts to feel more doable.
I should start from the top down.
The side door only takes a little wiggling to get loose and Emmett marvels at the first real look he's ever gotten at the movement, glittering gold in its wooden case. His eyes widen at the mechanical marvel twisting before him and he finds it even more appealing than the ornate carvings inlaid into the dark cabinet.
The front door swings open easily and Emmett's touch is almost featherlight as he pulls the hands off the movement. The clock face looks unsettling without the hands there, almost like it's naked, and he frowns as he sticks the hands in his pockets for safekeeping.
Everything has to come out in order for him to properly inspect it, but the question now becomes how. How does he remove the movement without further damaging what he's trying to repair?
Emmett sticks his head through the open side panel again and lets out an excited aha! when he spots the latches holding the face of the clock in place. A firm push knocks it free and sends the face clattering to the ground. He winces at the sound, but a quick inspection reveals no new damage—nothing has snapped off or bent or broken, so he must still be okay.
The relief he feels at that is short-lived when he realises he has no idea what to do next.
He presses his lips together in thought and reaches back through time to try and feel around the different pieces of the machine. This is all just another puzzle, one created by someone who may understand time better than him, but he has science on his side, and if he follows the cables and pulleys back to their origin point, where they connect must be the problem.
A broken gear, perhaps, or a bent hammer, or something has gotten knocked out of place.
When he tries to pull at the movement again, it remains stubbornly locked in place, and so he drops his focus down to the weights dangling lifelessly at the end of their golden ropes.
Those, too, clatter to the ground in perfect synchronisation with the loud yelp of surprise he lets out.
The rest of the pieces follow unceremoniously after, one-by-one until he's left cradling the silent heart of the clock in his hands.
Emmett turns it over in his hands, scrutinising it from corner-to-corner to try and spot anything that screams this, this is the problem!
❝Emmett Lathrop Brown!❞ That cold, booming voice strikes fear straight into his chest and Emmett immediately freezes, clutching the clock's heart to his chest like a shield. He's sitting in the centre of the half-circle of dismembered clock parts and no amount of trying to talk his way out of this one is going to make him look any less guilty than he is.
His father's anger could level the house. He can feel it, a thousand white-hot blades digging into his skin, even from across the room.
He tries to look up at the clock above him, but instead of helping him, it screams accusations.
❝Y-Yes, Father?❞
#doctober 2023#a broken clock may be right twice a day but in this case it was very wrong rip emmett#and with that...doctober is over!! it's bittersweet but i'm also thankful and i feel like i've grown more confident as a writer for this#fandom even if just by a little. to all who've read and liked and commented and reblogged any of these prompts i thank you wholeheartedly#you've definitely kept me going with your enthusiasm and i appreciate you greatly for it#i feel like emmett's love for reading definitely came from his mum and sarah is one of those types of people who will read a wide array#of different types of genres#and she likes to collect books too which young emmett helped himself to whenever erhardt wasn't around#it was basically their little secret#also the fact that even in the delorean owner's manual doc talks about the fact that his mum and dad did not part on good terms#just lends weight to this theory of mine; it was probably the culmination of a lot of bs and them not being fully compatible and the fact#that well he just treated their kid like shit and she was not about that#and in the comics erhardt was basically like 'you're just as stubborn as your son' just lends me to believe that he was not the#type of person who did well with others who didn't fully bend to his will#&; a great idea can change the world 「 hc 」#also given the origin of the grandfather clock and the neat science behind it#it seems so fitting that it be used as a main catalyst in doc's life - and that he'd love it#he just wanted to fix the clock okay and as you do when you're young you think you can do everything#doc being also wicked smart and too curious for his own good def didn't help but#doc's obsession with time and clocks is everything to me tbh#every clock is a little different and they all tell different stories and time is such a fascinating concept#man-made perhaps but still
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velidewrites · 2 years
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Ducklings for your Elucien drabble <3 (I was inspired by your profile pic)
Ducklings | Elucien Drabble
Word Count: 1.3k
Note: Thank you so much for sending this prompt @the-lonelybarricade ! As soon as I saw the word "ducklings" I knew this was exactly what Elucien needed. Hope you enjoy this shameless fluff! <3
“Lucien,” Elain pleaded, out of breath. “Tell me we’re at least getting close.”
He chuckled, his hand guiding her through the narrow path. “Patience, my lady. I promised you a nice day out, did I not?” he teased, earning an exasperated huff from the female.
It was a nice day indeed, as most days were in the Autumn Court. The trail he’d chosen for their little expedition had been somewhat challenging, at least according to Elain, who had clearly not been a fan of hiking uphill. Still, it offered some of the most incredible sights of the Autumn forests, with warm, golden sunlight peaking through the trees, their leaves laying out a path of amber, orange and maroon. 
“Autumn Court truly is beautiful,” Elain admitted, still a little breathless.
He nodded. “It is. Though I can’t say I ever had the chance to truly enjoy it,” he added, a tinge of bitterness to his voice.
Elain scowled. “I hate that Eris is forcing you to come back here,” she confessed. “I don’t see why we need to honour Beron’s death, anyway. He was a bastard.”
Lucien felt the corners of his mouth twitch. “So ferocious,” he teased, letting his smile broaden at the sight of Elain’s cheeks flushing. “Don’t worry about me, Elain. This is just something I have to do,” he explained, though they both knew he hated the fact as much as she did.
She squeezed his hand in return. “I just wish…” she trailed off, then shook her head, clearly deciding not to elaborate. She did not need to.
“So do I,” he said quietly, his gaze softening upon her concerned features. “I suppose sometimes you have to let go of the past to keep up appearances, even if just for a moment. Besides, us being here sends a message—that the Night Court supports Eris as the new High Lord of Autumn.”
Elain grimaced at the words, prompting a small chuckle to escape him. “Well,” Lucien added. “He can be a real bastard too. But he’ll make a better ruler than my father ever was.”
She sighed in response. “Let’s hope that’s true.”
Lucien laughed once again. Taking the final step upward, he reached to toss away a branch, its leaves masking the view of their destination. “We’re here,” he announced, holding out his hand to help Elain up.
He felt her gasp beside him, taking in the beauty of what laid before them. The clearing was surrounded by tall, striking rock formations, all covered with moss ranging from light yellow to rich green. A small waterfall draped the rough stone, falling peacefully into a pond, glistening with the sun reflecting off its surface. Floating atop the pool, among the red leaves that must have fallen in earlier, was a small flock of ducks—seven little ducklings surrounding their mother, basking in the sunlight.
Elain’s hand travelled to her mouth, covering lips that had slightly parted in awe. Slowly approaching the pond, she kneeled by its edge, a small laugh escaping her at the sight of one of the ducklings eagerly chasing one of its siblings.
Lucien stood behind her, leaning against the bark of a tree, suddenly feeling all words leave his head. All he could do was stand there and admire the way her hair shone in rays of sunlight, how they warmed her soft skin with a delightful glow.
He had no idea how long he had stood there, but she had clearly noticed his absence, head turning over her shoulder as she patted the ground beside her, gesturing for him to sit.
Inches away from Elain, Lucien sprawled on the fresh soil, leaning back on his forearms. Seconds after, happy quacks began approaching them, as the ducklings swam closer to greet their new companions. He tilted his head, getting a closer look. Though all seven ducklings were equally small and fluffy, only the six of them shared a coating of different shades of brown. The last one of them glistened with bright, yellow feathers, and Elain beamed as it stepped out of the water, waddling towards her clumsily.
He watched as she laughed softly, picking up the duckling in her hands. “Hello there, little one,” she cooed, the duckling squealing with excitement. Her smile widened. “I think you’re my favourite.”
Lucien chuckled at the remark. “Now what do I have to do to get that sort of treatment?”
Elain smiled, her eyes still on the small, happy creature in her hands. “I’m afraid you’ve got some competition, my lord. This one is simply too cute and fluffy,” she informed, though a grin spread on her face as her gaze slid over to the other ducklings swimming in the crystal water. She turned to him with a playful gleam in her eyes. “Though if you’d like to try for my advances, you’re more than welcome to get in the water and splash around, too.”
Lucien grinned. “Only if you get in with me,” he offered, his eyes betraying his idea of playing wildly differed from Elain’s. Looking into them, she flushed with a shade of red that almost matched the colour of the Autumn leaves.
She pet the yellow duckling, the bird leaning its head onto her delicate fingers. With a gentle tap on its beak, Elain released it back into the water. The duckling immediately swam to its mother, small wings flapping with enthusiasm, splashing the water around it.
Elain closed her eyes in content, resting her head against Lucien’s shoulder. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
He smiled, warmth spreading through him at her affectionate touch. “My mother used to bring me here when father was away. It didn’t happen very often, but I cherished those moments.”
Elain nodded, understanding coating her beautiful features. “I’m glad you were able to steal those moments of happiness, however small. I…” she swallowed, shaking her head. “My mother wasn’t as nurturing.”
Pain tugged on Lucien’s heart as he laced his fingers through hers. They sat in silence, unspoken understanding shining between them as they watched the ducklings circle their mother in a happy chase.
“Would you like to meet her?” Lucien asked.
Elain lifted her head to look at him in confusion. Lucien smiled, something like warmth glowing inside his chest as he reached to tuck away a loose string of hair behind her ear. “My mother.” 
A small gasp escaped Elain’s breath.
“I know it hasn’t been that long since we’ve started getting to know each another as this. As…mates,” he said hesitantly, though Elain did not shudder. Instead, she consumed his every word, as if she was suffocating and he was feeding her fresh, invigorating air. Brown eyes watched him intently, and he couldn’t help but lean in closer. “But…I would really love it if she could meet you. Meet you and truly see you, see you the way I do.”
“And what do you see, Lucien?” Elain asked, her voice barely above a whisper. He could feel her soft breath on his lips, and it took everything in his power not to taste it. 
“I see your warmth. Your kindness. Your passion for anything that can change the world for the better. The way your eyes sparkle when you watch the sunrise. That’s the true you, Elain. You bring light into the lives of those lucky enough to be part of yours.”
Tears gleamed in her beautiful, brown eyes as she nodded, their noses brushing against each other lightly. “Lucien,” she breathed, and their lips joined in a soft, unyielding promise.
When they broke apart, she rested her hand on his cheek, eyes gleaming with nothing but pure sunlight. “It would be an honour, Lucien.”
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meetmeatthecoda · 2 years
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It's not a request per se but if you ever need a prompt, maybe, you could write an improved version of That Scene from Luther Braxton (which might or might not lead to an improved ending of the episode, without Liz going all... shouty and pouty on Red)?..
Personally, I will certainly read the hell out of it, and I'm sure I'm not the only one.
Hi, anon!! 😄 Well, now... isn't this an... intriguing idea 👀 So intriguing, in fact... that it's 1000% going on my fic to-do list right now 😉 I do very much want to open things up to prompts at some point (not sure when & it might not be for a while, I've got pLaNs) & I very much appreciate this great one, anon!! And, needless to say, I'm also very flattered that you'd want to read my take on it, thank you so much!! So, I can't promise it will be soon, but rest assured this is going on my list & I'll be sure to credit you when I get to it!! 😊 Thank you so much again, anon, take care, & much, much love to you, of course!! ❤️
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Rocker Miguel and pbmj au when???
when i queue it you impatient lil greedy bug you~<3!
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obsessivelullabies · 9 months
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⎯ yandere sugar daddy könig.
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pairing : könig x fem!reader.
tags : fluff, yandere behavior, yandere headcanons, könig x reader, sugar daddy, sugar baby, sugar daddy könig, yandere könig.
prompt : you're a broke college student, you sign up for a sugar daddy website, hoping for a quick coin. however, what you find is an obsessive older man who's willing to provide you with everything you could possibly need.
warnings : daddy kink, yandere behaviors, smut [at the end], size kink, praise kink, breeding kink.
‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿
⎯⎯ college wasn't exactly the best time in your life, you didn't have your parents support, you were working a dead end job with barely enough money to feed yourself. it wasn't until your friend recommended this sugar daddy website did things look up.
⎯⎯ you were contacted by an austrian man who called himself könig. he explained he was a colonel in the military, but he couldn't tell you much else. you would see him when he was home from his deployments. he explained all this over texting, along with his social anxiety problems. you sympathized with him. you had only seen one photo of his face, yet he seemed handsome. he had long hair and a scarred face.
⎯⎯ finally, you agreed to meet könig in person over dinner at a fancy restaurant. you could tell he was anxious to just be around you, considering how he fidgeted throughout almost the whole meal as you two went over the agreement of your arrangement. you were shocked by his height as well, he was 208 cm/6'10, which really stuck out. you decided to not mention it to him.
⎯⎯ he convinced you to only see him, saying he'd pay you enough so you only needed to see him, which slightly relived you. you were to always answer his texts and calls as soon as possible, he'd give you an allowance and similar rules were all agreed upon.
⎯⎯ whenever könig was home, you spent a lot of time with him. he seemed to love having you around, always taking you out shopping, out for meals, having you at his home. you had him wrapped around your finger.
you had just returned from a shopping trip with könig, he set down all the bags of clothes and jewelry he had bought you on the counter. you spent a lot of time at his house, which was stunningly large, despite him living alone.
with a smile on your face, you lead him over to the couch, playfully making him sit down. you straddled him, covering his face with kisses, "thank you, daddy." you cooed sweetly to him. you finally kissed his lips, which he hungrily returned.
"anything for you, liebling.." he whispered, wrapping his arms around you, bringing your body closer to him. you gave his jawline a final kiss before wrapping your arms around his neck and cuddling into him.
könig rested his chin ontop of your head, rubbing circles on your back. he tightened his grip on you. you spent a lot of time in the prison of his arms, könig seemed to love holding you, having your body close to his.
⎯⎯ when könig was off on deployment, he would call and text you as much as he could. every free moment he had was spent focused on you. he got angry with you if you didn't answer in a few minutes or less, accusing you of seeing someone else. to which, you'd have to spend hours on a phone call soothing him and his worries.
when you finally picked up your phone, you were met with an irritated sounding könig, "where the fuck have you been?" he hissed.
you took a deep breath, not wanting to react rudely to him. "i was in class, i'm sorry, i just got back to my dorm." your tone was honeyed for him.
his tone didn't soften at all as he replied almost childishly. "it shouldn't have taken you so long, were you with someone?" you understood what he meant. he always assumed you were breaking the rules of your agreement or 'cheating' on him.
you kept your sweet tone, "of course not, daddy.." you pouted. "i've missed you too much, i don't want anyone else. i just want you." you knew exactly what to say. he had done this multiple times.
könig finally softened. "i see.. i've missed you too.. i want to feel you again, i want to kiss you again.." you could feel a hint of sadness in his tone.
"mm, i miss you more! you'll be back next week, right?" you cooed.
könig responded, sounding much happier than before. "ja, will you send me more photos of you, baby? i miss your face.."
you giggled, "of course, daddy." he seemed pleased with that. you spent the next hour and a half on the phone with him, listening to him talk about his day, and telling him about yours.
⎯⎯ the more time you two were together, the more attached könig became. he needed more of you, he wanted all of you. könig would constantly encourage you to blow others off to spend time with him. a few months into your relationship, you had lost ties with most of your outer circle of friends, barely having any time to spare.
⎯⎯ after ten months, he was encouraging you to drop out of college. who needed a silly degree when daddy could take care of you? he wanted you to move in with him. he promised he would take care of your every need and lavish you with affection and gifts.
⎯⎯ during this time, könig got much more affectionate and needy. he became infatuated with you entirely. you were his everything, he made himself the most important thing in your life. könig made sure you had the least amount of time for friends or family as possible.
⎯⎯ now, you spent almost every day and night at his house. the only exceptions were your classes and time you set aside for homework. he always scoffed and whined when you said you had to leave, doing anything to make you stay.
right now, you had a scheduled class. you were supposed to be ten minutes into that class, yet here you were, in könig’s bed, laying underneath him, biting back tears.
“daddy,” you whimpered through your heavy breaths, “it’s not gonna fit!”
könig rubbed circles on your swollen clit as you said this. “shh, schatz, i’ll make it fit. just lay back and relax for daddy, ok?” he reassured, kissing your forehead softly.
you took deep breaths as he slowly jammed his cock into you, your body began to tremble. you let out cries, clawing könig’s back. no matter how much foreplay you got in, you always struggled to take könig’s entire length.
as he fit it all in, he gave you a small kiss. “see, liebling? it’s all in.”
you swallowed hard, nodding slowly. his large hands were gripping your hips as he began to gently thrust into you. you moaned, his thick cock was too much.
“fuck.. you feel so good, schatz.. so tight..” he whispered, quickly speeding up despite your cry of panic.
the sounds of skin slapping echoed in the room as he pounded into you, your cunt crying from the abuse. you dug your nails into his back, now starting to feel a pleasant knot in your belly. you gasped, your back arching into the bed.
“all mine,” he said breathlessly. his grip on your hips tightened as he continued using you like you were his personal fucktoy. “you’re all mine.”
he sped up, much to your own pleasure, the pain had subsided as you moaned and babbled out praise for him, your legs wrapped around him.
you neared your climax, your whole body trembling. “daddy—‘m gonna cum..” you said through your moans, your body clinging to his.
könig kissed you sweetly, despite his animalistic pace. “such a good girl, schatz. cum for me, cum on my cock,” he groaned. your walls clenched around him as you dissolved into your pleasure, tears leaking out onto your cheeks.
as you came, he kept up his unforgiving pace, he let out groans of contentment. he wiped the tears off your cheeks before kissing you softly through your mutual cries of pleasure.
as he continued, he whispered sweet nothings to you until he reached his climax. “‘m gonna pump you full of my cum, alright, engel?” he kissed you passionately, continuing to ram his cock into you. “be a good girl and take all of it, understood?” you couldn’t murmur a response, too fucked dumb from his pounding.
soon, könig came inside you, painting your walls white. he fucked his hot cum into you before finally stopping. after a moment of making sure you took the majority of his cum, he slid his cock out.
könig kissed your forehead sweetly, tucking you into bed and quickly wrapping his arms around you. he lavished kisses all over your neck and shoulders.
“this was better than your class, right, liebling?”
masterlist.
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DPXDC Prompt. Dead on main with priest Jason: Father Todd brings the Ghost King’s cult into the World of the Living.
So, when Jason dies and returns, the League of Assassins fails to hold him for long because spirits from Far Frozen pick him up after seeing teen through the Lazarus pit.
Jason quickly realizes that, well, they’re kinda obsessed with their cult of the Great One. And yeah the cult of the ruling Ghost King was very popular during the reign of the Pariah Dark but back then the rituals were carried out more out of fear. Now things are different. The population of the Ghost Zone has become interested in the activities of Frostbite and his loyal spirits because of an attempt to understand what kind of ghost the new ruler is and how best to thank and appease him. So Jason had no shortage of stories about the teenager's deeds.
~~~~
Jason to Frostbite: Well, you guys and your lil hobby are nice but I don't understand at all what's so cool about this guy, even if he defeated Pariah Dark and gets along with most of the Ancients…
Danny: *comes to visit Frostbite*, *slips and falls three times, sets the kitchen on fire in an attempt to make coffee then sheepishly smiles at Jason*.
Jason to Frostbite: ... Okay, Understandable, I Hope Danny Has a Nice Day and Some Sleep.
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Tucker: Congratulations, you've acquired another Paulina. Great job. Danny: I'd rather he just asked me out instead of worshipping me. What the hell? I'm just a semi-ghost.
Tucker: Maybe things would be easier if you just gave him your phone number, you know? Danny: But he didn't ask. Tucker: Why didn't you ask? Danny: I couldn't! He's Robin himself, you know? Tucker: Well, good luck to you idiots to grow old alone near the altars of each other's name. Danny: Actually lil altar in his honor is not such a bad idea. Maybe this way he'll understand that I like him too.. Tucker: Danny, no!
~~~~
New in Gotham robbers break into Jason's place: Hey, father, God ordered you to share with your neighbors, so bring us some money or we.. Jason, who is talking on the phone with Danny: In fact, he just said that if you don't get out of here now, he will turn a blind eye to the fact that I will use my guns.
Danny*screams internally*: Oh Ancients, he's sooo cool!
Pandora: Honey, we're happy for you but stop flooding us with spam. You have already told 5 times during prayer how good his abs and chest look and how perfect Todd is when he reads aloud. We get it, okay? Clockwork: Well, I actually enjoy it. It's so much more interesting to watch while listening to the internal dialogue. Show must go on~ Danny: ...Get out of my mind! Nocturn: Thou shalt not take the name of the Lords in vain if you don't want to share with us, lil blob. So rude.
~~~Team Song: You Are My Religion · Firehouse~~~~
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firstkanaphans · 8 months
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oh my god i love these prompts!!! could i request Y with sandray? tysm!!
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[Y]elling “I love you” in the middle of an argument + [Q]uieting them with a kiss
Ray was drifting in and out of consciousness when he heard his bedroom door being wrenched open. 
“Ray? Ray?!”
Despite its anxious tenor, the voice was familiar and comforting, but Ray was far too exhausted to open his eyes and see who it belonged to. Instead, he rolled over and buried his face in his pillow with a groan. The voice was very loud.
“Jesus Christ, Ray. Are you drunk?!”
Ray groaned again because it was really none of this voice’s business whether he was drunk or not, but before he could find the energy to tell them to piss off, he was forcibly rolled over as the covers were ripped off of him. He tried to shield his eyes from the sunlight, but it was too late. His retinas burned.
“Leave me alone. I’m sleeping.”
“Sleeping? Ray, have you lost your goddamn mind? You were supposed to meet me at the orphanage an hour ago to complete your community service—you know, the thing you’re required by the government to do or otherwise they’ll send you to jail?”
Ray recognized the voice now and the longer he stared at the blurry figure in front of him, the better Sand came into focus. His cheeks were flushed and he looked angry. He usually did these days.
“I’ll reschedule,” Ray grumbled. He didn’t understand what the big deal was. It wasn’t like it was Sand’s problem.
“Ray,” Sand snapped. “You can’t keep doing this!”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s irresponsible.” Ray rolled his eyes—what a lame excuse—and then reached for the bottle of whiskey on his bedside table. He picked it up and was just about to take a sip when Sand snatched it away. Ray glared at him. Sand glared back. “If you keep going like this, you’re going to kill yourself.”
Ray didn’t quite know how to articulate that he really didn’t fucking care. He had broken up with Mew the night before, finally forced to come to terms with the fact that Mew didn’t love him. That he didn’t love Mew. And without that safety net to fall back on, he didn’t really give a damn where he ended up. Jail? Hell? It was all the same to him. 
He climbed out of bed in search of a drink. Sand couldn’t gatekeep all of it. There was too much. 
There was a bottle of wine in the music room, so he grabbed it only to find that it was empty. He tossed it to the side and then went to the mini fridge instead. He found a beer, but before he could crack it open, Sand stole that from him too. Ray turned to glare at him. 
“I’m not going to let you drink,” Sand said and then held the bottles up in demonstration. “I can do this all day. I’m sober. You can’t outlast me.”
“I’ll call the cops,” Ray countered, “and tell them you’re trespassing.”
Sand called his bluff. “Go right ahead.”
Ray let out a shriek of frustration. “Why do you fucking care if I drink myself to death, anyway? I’m not your fucking problem!”
“Because I’m in love with you!”
The words struck Ray like a bolt of lightning and he suddenly felt more sober than he had in days. He froze, his anger evaporating as quick as it had come, and just stared at Sand who had turned beet red at his own outburst.
“But you know what?” Sand said, immediately backpedaling. He set the bottles down on the table next to him and began turning towards the door. “Clearly, you don’t need my help, so…”
He was giving in. He was trying to get away. Ray didn’t want to let him go because Sand loved him—despite everything he had done. Despite everything Ray had put him through. Sand loved him. And Ray was pretty sure that he loved Sand, too. He hadn’t recognized it at first because the feeling was so different than what he felt for Mew. It wasn’t safe. It was wild and scary and untamed. It made him want to be alive.
“Just show up for your community service, okay?” Sand said as he reached the door. “Please. Don’t go to prison over this, Ray. I don’t think I could live with myself if—”
Ray crossed the room, spun Sand around, and kissed him. Sand let out a soft noise of surprise against his lips, but once he realized what was happening, he relaxed. He kissed him back. When they finally parted, he just stared at Ray, a question in his eyes. 
“I love you, too,” Ray said. He was sure this time. 
Sand smiled at him so brightly that it warmed him from the inside out and for the first time in a very long while, Ray wasn’t craving alcohol. Instead, he kissed Sand again.
For the Fluff Prompt ABCs
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wrayah · 3 months
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wriothesley x fem!reader
prompt: An overworked Writohesley finally accepts to get an assitant to help him around. Work begins to become smoother thanks to you, however you also make things harder for Wriothesley thanks to your innocent seductiveness. A small clothing mishap becomes the perfect moment for Writohesley to solve the throbbing problem in his pants.
notes: HERE IT IS THE (somewhat) SEX CRAZED WRIO I PROMISED YOU ALL !! can you guys tell i'm obsessed with this man ?? now please ask me for other characters i have no idea what to write now ( ;´ - `;)
word count: 3.4k
warnings: smut (mdni 🔞), dom!wrio, pet names, penetration, oral, no protection, ejaculation, curse words, handcuffs, overstimulation (kinda?)
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Wriothesley wasn't very fond of the idea of hiring an assistant, he could handle his work all by himself, he had been doing it for a while and could keep going that way. He simply couldn't comprehend why Sigewinne was so insistent, why she kept nagging him and telling him he should get help.
"'You really should consider it!" Sigewinne scolded Writohesley from her seat across from him, her tiny hands holding a cup of warm tea. "As the head and only nurse of the Fortress, it is my duty to take care of the people who work here, and that includes you!"
He chuckled at her puffed cheeks, she looked adorable when she was mad, and it was a challenge to take her seriously sometimes. He sipped his tea before looking at her, smiling.
"I'm okay, you don't need to worry. I don't need help-"
"Yes, you do! I can clearly see that you are extremely tired, and I have caught you working way past time lately!" She interrupted him, her tone stern but also caring. She looked at him in the eyes, dead serious. "How long has it been since you got a good night's sleep?"
His eyebags wouldn't let him lie his way out of this one, he couldn't actually remember the last time he went to bed and woke up feeling replenished. He frowned and looked down, having no answer to Sigewinne's question.
She scoffed at his reaction, closing her eyes and sipping her tea. She then placed her cup down, looked back up at him, and smiled. "Now that we've reached an agreement, I'll ask the guards to put up the flyers."
Writohesley sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index. "Fine."
And that's how you got into the Fortress of Meropide as Wriothesley's assistant.
You had been working as the Duke's assistant for a few weeks now, helping him handle paperwork, running errands for him around the fortress, and on the surface, basically helping and doing everything and anything to make things a bit easier for him. It wasn't all that hard, a bit hectic but you actually enjoyed what you were doing.
Your presence had completely changed Wriothesley's routine, he was now able to finish his paperwork in time every day and got to sleep correctly again. Sigewinne had teased him continuously about how he was doing better now thanks to her idea, and he couldn't help but admit that she was right, he did need help.
On top of allowing him to get back on his feet and feel alive again, it was an actual pleasure to have you around. He was reluctant at the idea of an assistant at first, he got to know you however with time and was actually not disappointed. You were a smart and gentle individual, always ready to help and accomplish tasks with a smile on your face, even the tedious ones. Whenever you had free time, you would bring him tea along with some sweets, which he highly appreciated. This imposed a timeout on him, which wasn't actually so bad. He enjoyed chatting with you, whether it was about work or whatever else.
Everything was going well, except for one thing. Everything was great, everything you did was perfect. You were perfect.
Writohesley couldn't keep his eyes off of you at times. Generally, he thought you were beautiful, your smile melted his heart, the way your cheeks reddened whenever you stammered or were unsure softened him, and the way you dressed pleased him, especially when you wore somewhat revealing clothing- shit.
It was hard for him to keep focus on work at times because of you, but forced himself to stay put. He could handle the situation well, but it was challenging at times.
On hotter days, like today, you would wear skirts without tights, leaving your thighs exposed for Writohesley to admire. Your skin looked so soft, and the way they looked when you sat made him want to dig his fingers into them so badly.
He could handle admiring your form, it wasn't the first time he had seen a beautiful woman in his life, he just had to put in a little more effort to stay focused.
He did almost lose his mind at one point though.
He was reading a dossier, holding it with his right hand and toying with his handcuffs with the other, spinning them around. He looked up at you once he was done to give you a new order but he caught you looking intently at his handcuffs, a light blush on your cheeks. Once you noticed his gaze, your eyes darted to his and you lightly cleared your throat, cheeks brightening. Oh, the dirty things that must have been going through your mind.
Ever since then, those same dirty fantasies have invaded Writohesley's mind, making his work, as well as something else, harder. All he could think of was cuffing you up and manhandling you.
He shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. Focus, Wrio, you need to finish this by noon.
"Is everything alright, sir?" You enquired, sitting across from him also handling a report file.
He looked up at you, his eyes locking onto yours. Your gaze was caring, worried, and so sweet.
He cleared his throat. "Yeah, um, could you get me some iced tea, please?" He needed something to soothe him as well as the growing heat in his pants.
"Of course!" You replied, a big smile on your face. You got up immediately and turned to make your way out of his office. You accidentally bumped some files on his desk in the process though, papers falling to the ground before you.
"I'm so, so sorry! I'll-I'll gather everything!" You stammered, bending down to pick up every loose paper and file, unintentionally flashing Writohesley while doing so.
He could see everything, the back of your exposed upper thighs, your beautifully shaped ass, your laced panties-covered crotch. Oh Archons, how could he keep his composure before such a sight?
Wriothesley cleared his throat again, this time to grab your attention. You squeaked, stood up, and spun around quickly, a messy pile of papers in hand. You were expecting to be scolded for your idiocy. You gulped as you looked into his darkening eyes, his face was deadly serious. You were done for.
"Don't think that what you just did is, let's say, inappropriate?" He questioned, a slight smirk emerging. Your terrified expression turned into a confused one, which he chuckled at. You weren't even aware of what you were doing to him, how cute.
"Your skirt is quite short you know, you should have kneeled down instead." Your eyes widened, realising what had just happened. You frowned and looked down, face becoming as red as a tomato. You placed your hands behind you, covering your behind with the papers.
"I-I'm sorry! I-... I didn't intend to give such a view..." You were so embarrassed you were barely able to pronounce the last part. You sighed ashamed. You wanted to dive into the deepest parts of the sea and stay there.
Toying with you was fun. "You know, it's not the first time your clothes have bothered me. To be fair, you sometimes dress quite inappropriately for work." He took out his handcuffs and began playing with them like last time, catching your attention once again. He grinned, canines showing. "Don't you think that, as your boss, I should reprimand you?"
You bit your lip, intrusive thoughts clouding your mind. That didn't go unnoticed, it only made his smirk grow wider.
"Go on, finish cleaning your mess up." He instructed, eyeing the rest of the papers on the floor. You did as told, kneeling down this time.
He got up from his chair as you placed the paper mountain on his desk. You watched carefully as he came up behind you, you didn't dare to turn around though.
"Hands behind your back."
"H-huh?" You turned your head to look at him, his frame hovering over yours, eyeing you down.
He cocked his eyebrow. "Want me to repeat? Hands behind your back." His voice was stern, he was doing his best to hide his lust.
You did as told, and soon enough you felt the cold feeling of metal around your wrists. He had handcuffed you. You choked a little on your breath, not expecting this to happen. Your darkest fantasies were coming to life, but you couldn't let your mind get the best of you, you were already embarrassed enough.
"You see, being naughty like that isn't very nice, you've been making things hard for me lately." He placed your hands on his clothed dick as he spoke, rubbing against them. Your breathing was shaky, and his pants felt so tight against him, that you couldn't help but imagine what he was hiding underneath.
"Since you're to help me, I thought you could also help me with this." He pressed his dick against your hands once more, letting out a shaky grunt. "Will ya?"
You nodded timidly, still not believing what was happening. "Good. Come on now."
He leads you back towards his desk as if he were leading a prisoner. Being treated this way was making you feel hot and bothered, but you loved it. He put his hands on your shoulders and with slight pressure instructed you to kneel down before his chair, which he would sit on soon after. He began undoing his belt, his pants coming soon after, all the while being attentively observed by you. He chuckled as he saw your big eyes look at his shielded cock, mouth agape with impatience. He finally slid his bottoms down a little, revealing his girthy dick to you, tip slightly swollen and shimmering with precum. You bit your lip at the sight, mouth-watering. He was so close, it was so close.
His hand came to caress your cheek tenderly. "Open your mouth for me, baby. Tongue out."
You opened up, tongue sliding out. You looked up at him, waiting for his next command. His hand travelled up to your hair, grabbing a handful lightly, before tugging your head down towards his dick.
As your tongue finally met his throbbing tip, you flicked it against it, tasting him. Salty but tasty. You began licking his tip, tongue swirling around it, pressing against his slit, doing all you can to take in all of that sweet precum. Wriothesley moaned lowly above you, hand caressing your hair now, encouraging you, praising you.
"Come on, don't be shy, take me in." Your mouth wraps around his wet tip, making its way down slowly. He was thick, but there was so much saliva that you were easily able to swallow him whole on the first way down, making him curse under his breath. You began slowly bobbing your head up and down, tongue against the underside of his dick.
"That's good baby, keep going." It felt so good he couldn't help but let his head fall back, breathy moans and curses leaving his lips as he tugged on your hair, instructing you to pick up the pace. You were doing your very best to go fast, but he was so big and your mouth so small that your cheeks began to hurt and so your pace began to falter.
He looked back down at you with glazy eyes, only to be met with lustful eyes looking back up at him, your mouth around his dick, drool dripping down from it. Fuck. The sight made something snap inside of him, it made him feral.
He got up from his chair, standing up before you, making sure your mouth never left his dick. You let out surprised noises around his cock, making him groan from the vibrations. He placed both his hands on your hair, gripping it hard enough to keep your head still and thrust into your mouth. You moaned around him with each thrust, both from pleasure and from slight pain, but mostly from pleasure.
"Look at me, baby." His husky voice sent electric shocks all day down to your core, making your thighs squeeze together. You looked up at him, the mere sight of his expression being almost enough to make you cream.
You look at him, tears in the corners of your eyes, cheeks red, drool all over, was enough to send him over the edge. He buried himself deep within your mouth and, with a loud groan, his cum sprung out onto your throat and into your mouth.
"Fuck." He panted, thrusting slowly to get every single last drop of his cum out before sliding out.
He grinned as he saw your puffed-out cheeks, your mouth filled with cum. He put his hand on your chin, grabbing it gently. "Swallow. All of it."
Your eyes widened at the command yet you swallowed the thick liquid without hesitation, small tears coming up from how weird it felt when it slid down your throat. He grinned and patted your head. "Good girl."
He picked you up from the floor with ease, making you gasp. He placed you down, feet on the floor, facing his desk, your legs against it. Your hands were still bound behind you, and your wrists started to ache a bit. He pressed up against your back, hands grabbing at your hips as he nuzzled your neck, taking in your fragrance. You tilted your head to the side, giving him enough room to pamper your neck with kisses. He licked long slow strips along your veins. You moaned, your core growing warmer with every passing second.
You felt something hard poke your hands, he was still hard. Mustering up some courage, you grabbed his cock with both your hands, it fits perfectly between them. You started pumping it, long slow, and sloppy strokes. He groaned against your neck, biting down hard. You both moaned and groaned, you from his sucking and biting on your neck, him from you pumping his dick.
He suddenly pulled his hips away, freeing his length from your heavenly grip. One of his hands went to your back, pushing your upper body downward against the table. "Stay there."
"Yes, sir." You whispered, body engulfed in pleasure.
He bent down, face in front of your clothed crotch. He pressed his nose against your wet panties. Oh, you smelled intoxicating. He pulled your panties and skirt down, the cold air of the room hitting your hot pussy suddenly, making you shiver.
Writohesley licked his lips as he admired you in all of your glory, folds glistening from how excited you were. He leaned forward, placing both his hands on your thighs, and lay his tongue flat on your pussy, licking slowly up.
"Mh, you taste so fucking good." He groaned against your folds, suckling on your sensitive bud. You were becoming a mess, unable to control the sounds leaving your body as he lapped at your wet pussy. You almost screamed when his teeth grazed your clit.
He suddenly got up, spanking you with one hand as he did. "Quiet down, will ya. Do you want everyone in the Fortress to know you were being bad? Do you want everyone to know that your boss is punishing you?"
You shook your head no frantically, going to bite your lower lip in order to keep quiet, but he placed one of his hands on your mouth all the way from behind. With his other hand, he pumped his length a few times before lining it up to your entrance, his tip getting wet as he pressed against you. He pushed inside you, not letting a single second go to waste. He needed you. Your moan was muffled by his strong hand, eyes rolling back. He was filling you up so well, touching your cervix with his tip with the first push. His other hand was on the handcuffs, holding them tight to keep you in place. He pulled almost all the way out, only leaving his head inside, and then snapped his hips forward, pushing back in violently.
“I’m going to fucking ruin you.” He whispered into your ear. Your little screams were silenced by his hand, he repeated the same movement over and over again, until you could barely hold yourself up, your legs trembling. His low grunts and your muffled sounds filled the room along with the wet obscene sounds your cunt was making with each thrust.
His grip on your mouth and chains suddenly tightened, his pace picking up. He was practically fucking you into his desk right now, each thrust more powerful than the last. You were barely keeping yourself together, drooling into his hand, eyes barely open, cheeks flushed; you were a mess beneath him, and he loved seeing you like this. With each thrust, he stroke all the good spots, making you come undone rapidly. The feeling of your cunt clamping down on him drove him crazy, he wanted more of it, more, more. 
“Look at your tiny cunt, hugging my dick so tightly. Are you coming for me, princess?” You could only moan and groan in response, making him chuckle at your condition. He kept going, his pace never slowing down, milking your pussy of its juices. 
After the second wave of full blown pleasure washed over you, your legs began to wobble, you couldn’t keep yourself up anymore and your knees started to bend. He didn’t let you fall though, he quickly let go of your face and hands and held you up by the hips effortlessly.
“We aren’t done yet babygirl.” The side of your face rested on the desk, your mouth agape, raspy, breathy moans leaving your mouth. Your throat was dry from all the screaming, you surely wouldn’t be able to talk properly afterwards. He pounded into you rapidly, his rhythm becoming sloppier with each passing moment, he was getting close too. For someone who had instructed you to be quiet, he sure was being loud now, but neither of you cared. 
“So good, so fucking good for me.” He groaned, leaning forward, placing his forehead on your shoulder. His rapid breathing on your back sent shivers down your spine. You felt another orgasm building up, and you knew Wriothesley was close too. 
“Wrio- I’m going to…” You could barely speak, every word you uttered being followed by loud gasps.
“I know, baby, I know. Just wait a little.” He hushed you, gripping your hips with so much strength his knuckles were turning white. After a few more pushes, he was losing it, groaning loudly on your shoulder. “Come for me, y/n. Come!”
You moaned loudly, your third climax hitting you like a truck. Your walls clenched his member, that was the last straw for him. He bit down on your shoulder, moaning as he did so. His cock pushed deep inside you and stopped there. His cum came spurting out into you, the warm and thick liquid filling you up, some even dripping out of you and onto the floor. 
After a short while, his teeth finally let go of your flesh and he pulled out slowly, more cum dripping onto the floor as he did so. You opened your eyes as best as you could and looked back hazeley only to find a flushed and panting Wriothesley trying to catch his breath, still holding you up.
He then picked you up and sat you down on the desk, taking a set on his chair afterwards. You both sighed of relief, finally relaxing a bit after that experience.
He looked at you and smiled kindly, then looked at the mark on your shoulder and his smile turned upside down. “Sorry about that.”
You put your hand on your shoulder, massaging it to soothe the stinging pain. “It’s okay, it isn’t too bad.” Your smile made his worries die out. 
You started to feel a bit chilly, after all your bottoms were still on the floor. Before moving to dress yourself, a question came to your mind. You looked him in the eyes. “So, should I stop dressing the way I do from now on?”
Writohesley smirks, his head resting on his fist. “I won’t forbid you from dressing the way you want, but you must assume the consequences that will come with it.” 
At first, you blush, knowing well what he was referring to, but then you return the smile, answering with a confident tone. 
“Oh don’t worry, I will.”
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© wrayah, 2024
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reiderwriter · 6 months
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can i request for a mean!spencer x bau!reader? like they are not enemies but there's just this really intense sexual tension with prompts 2, 30, 48, and 49? thank you!
#2 "I wouldn't fuck you if you were the last person on earth.” #30 "You're not as hot as you think you are.” #48 "You belonged to me before I even made you mine.” #49 "I'm so fucking obsessed with you.”
A/N: Thank you for requesting! Sorry it took almost an entire season to get it done 😭 I hope it's as good as you expected it would be :D
Warnings: slight BDSM themes, Dom!Spencer, dry humping, choking, thigh riding, finger sucking, cum play, facial, penetrative sex, use of contraception, probably more that I don't remember right now... 18+ Minors DNI
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There was no one you wanted to spend the night with less than Spencer Reid.
He was annoying, and frustrating and most importantly never knew when to shut the fuck up.
No one was better at getting under your skin, and no one seemed to relish it quite like he did. It wasn't that you hated the man, just that he had the presence of an unkillable mosquito in your life.
He was irritating.
“Y/N, are you even listening to me?”
“I try not to make a habit of it,” you rolled your eyes, pushing past the man as you both finally made it to your motel room for the night.
You weren't sure if this was divine punishment or Emily's idea of a joke, but you'd ended up with Reid as your roomie for the next week.
As your case location was remote and as back waters as it could get, you'd ended up needing to bring Penelope Garcia along with you physically. And with only four rooms available, the eight members of your team had to all scramble for acceptable roommates and, having gotten off the jet last, you'd drawn the short straw.
Rossi had been quick to pair up with Luke, citing Spencer's snoring habit as reason enough, and the girls had happily fallen into two pairs. It was your lucky day.
With your hands busy with your bags, you tossed the key to Spencer quickly and waited for him to unlock the door, eager to escape the cold chill of the night.
“Hurry up, Spencer, or we'll both turn into popsicles out here.”
“Not only is that physically impossible, but it also isn't that cold out here, Y/N. Don't you think you're being a bit sensitive.”
You stuck your tongue out at him and he let out a sharp chuckle as he finally managed to unlock the door.
Despite your best wishes, stepping over the threshold didn't solve your problems. Instead it seemed to present even more.
“Fuck, how is it colder in here than it is out there?” You said, shivering violently as you stood in the doorway. If you thought that was reason enough to cure though, you thought you'd practically spit fire when you saw the sleeping arrangements for the night.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your body forgot its fight to keep warm, letting your blood run cold as you found yourself face to face with one singular, though large, bed. Another cursory glance around, and the heart motifs on the walls and pink themes cushions on the bed suggested that this was likely the motels joke of a Honeymoon Suite.
“Emily did mention that we booked out their last four rooms.” Spencer said, walking up beside you and frowning deeply as he took in the same scene you did.
“She said nothing about the rooms being igloos though, Spencer. I never thought hypothermia was going to be my cause of death after spending the night with you in the room.”
“You think I'd shoot you.”
“I think I'd shoot myself.”
He scowled a little at that and moved to check the room's thermostat. Although it was presently reading 215° so you didn't know how much good that could do.
“There's no sofa,” you grumbled as you watched Spencer move to the small bathroom.
“And there's no hot water. And according to the sign on that table, there's nothing we can do about it until the morning.” You picked up the sign yourself, just to verify and practically moaned in frustration.
“This is insane, we'll freeze to death.”
“It has to drop below 32° in here for us to even possibly freeze death. There's no wind, rain and we have blankets, so maybe you should focus less on being dramatic and more on what we can be doing to warm up.”
“I'm sorry, Doctor Genius, whatever can I do to warm up? Please impart some of your wonderful knowledge on me, I beg.” His eyes flashed with some annoyance and you quietly enjoyed the expression, happy to have affected him as much as he affected you.
“You can start by stripping.” It was his turn to enjoy the abject look of horror that crossed your face in that moment, and you were convinced that of he let even a hint of a laugh out, you'd throttle the man.
“I'm sure you'd just love that,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Well, there's no water, no thermostat and no other source of heat, so if you're so worried about hypothermia, there's only one solution viable to us right now.”
“You're joking. You want us to huddle together for warmth?” You backed yourself into a corner as you tried to distanced yourself from him as he suddenly began divesting himself of clothing.
As soon as he reached the top buttons of his shirt, you let out a quick squeak and turned around.
“Unless you want me to watch you get undressed too, I suggest you hurry up and do it before I get into bed.”
You quietly cursed and started unwrapping each of your layers, fingers fumbling with the cold already seeped into your skin.
“I am not getting naked, Spencer Reid.”
“I didn't ask you to. Just get comfortable.” You turned around to shoot him a glare, but when you noticed his back was turned - and bare - you lost all memory of the purpose of the movement.
You'd never quite realised before how broad his back was. His shoulders looked strong despite his lithe frame, twisting rather attractively as he pulled his nightshirt over his head. You were almost disappointed that he wasn't facing you, suddenly curious about Spencer Reid's happy trail.
You snapped yourself out of it and continued to change, wrapping your coat around your waist to hide your legs as you switched your pants to your sleep shorts. It was an awkward fumble, but at least the lights were low.
When you were finally ready, your steps back to the bed were hurried and near painful as you felt colder than ever.
Spencer was already there, and without a second thought, you pulled the quilts up and plastered yourself to his side. He was the only thing in the entire room offering you a modicum of warmth, and you weren't going to let your personal hot water bottle go just because everything that came out of his mouth was hot air.
“So you're a big fan of this now, huh?” He said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in. Your back was pressed against his chest as you both laid on your sides, piles of duvet and blankets laid out on top of you. You hated to admit it, but this position was comfortable.
Maybe it was just months of working cases non-stop and perpetual singleness, but the feeling of a man at your back was infinitely pleasing.
“Don't expect anything more Spencer Reid. I wouldn't have sex with you if you were the last man alive.” The words were harsh, and if you were being honest, a little bit untrue. Your small peak at his back earlier had definitely sparked an interest in you that was bubbling up in your throat. Like bile.
“You don't have to worry about that. You're actually not as hot as you think you are.” His words were tinged with the same faux bitterness as yours, but you refused to hear it. Instead all you felt was another unpleasant heat spreading throughout you, quiet anger plotting in your stomach.
You knew you probably shouldn't push it, but you needed Spencer to eat those words. Desperately.
Your mind ticked through a few options before landing on one. If you were so unattractive, then surely there's no way he'd physically react to you.
Scooting your body closer to his, you take advantage of the less than comfortable bed, making each of your movements similar to ones you would make when getting comfortable. Except, of course, with the added bonus of making sure your ass pressed directly up against his crotch, moving up and down and grinding into him.
You felt him slightly stiffen behind you, and decided that a few we'll time groans of frustration could go a long way to spurring him on.
So you began letting little gasps and sighs out, graduating to moans when you thought he wouldn't question it, each small movement rubbing against him deliberately.
What you'd failed to remember though, was his hand on your waist. Although you knew he was awake beside you, despite the now late hour and somewhat comfortable bed, his hand held you firm. Or it did until you risking bounced yourself gently against him, and his now limp hand slipped underneath your shirt.
The moan you released then was genuine, the cool touch of his fingers against your burning skin causing you to flush and shiver at the same time. You cursed your earlier self for valuing your comfort over your general peace of mind, because as Spencer's hand once again settles centimetres away from the edge of your boob, you desperately wished for your bra back.
You stopped moving, hoping that if you just pretended to sleep for a few minutes, his hand would reach higher and he'd prove to you that he did think you were attractive. He didn't though, showing off how gentlemanly he was. It pissed you off. Most of his good qualities pissed you off, and you were sure that said more about you than him .
You tried your best to just give in, to even out your breathing and let the black haze of sleep take over but his hands on you were maddening, and you found your body reacting in much the same ways you'd wished him to react.
It didn't help that he'd casually shifted his lower body away from you slightly in your stillness, letting himself fall onto his back rather than his side. As he made this shift, his hand trailed across the expanse of your body before cutting all contact with you altogether.
So much for huddling for warmth if all he had to do to return you to record heats was stroke you like that.
You needed to feel him again, so, feigning the most realistic sleeplike movements you could muster, you turned your body in his direction, and placed your head over his chest. You weren't finished, just proceeding with caution. Your hands obviously fell over his chest, if slightly lower than you'd expect.
It was only when your leg finally came up over his that he broke his silence.
“I know you're awake, Y/N,” he whispered in your ear, a solid hand on your thigh holding it down right over his crotch. You felt your prize and grinned in your sleep.
He was hard. You'd won. It was time to play.
You opened your mouth to purr victoriously at him, but he moved so abruptly you were never expecting it.
Shifting his hands to your ass, he hauled your body over him, letting his hands stay on your hips as he began to help you shift them back and forth. You moaned at the friction, even as your head stayed rested on his chest. The movements were shallow, just a teasing but you already felt more aroused than you had in months. Slowly, your hips started moving for themselves and his hands moved onto more important things.
“Am I suddenly the last man on Earth, Y/N?” He smiled, tipping your head up so you could make eye contact with him.
“Go to hell.”
“I think we're already there, don't you?” With that, his large hands sat you up, meeting with no resistance as you let yourself become pliable.
“Show me.” He whispered, hands right on your hips, pushing into your flesh just a touch part forceful.
“Show you what?” You narrowed your eyes, but you knew exactly what it was he wanted and that you weren't going to out up much a resistance before giving it to him.
“Show me how much you want to fuck me. Since your mouth isn't honest, I'm going to have to listen to your body.” You let your hands fall to his chest, pushing lower until you reached the hem of his shirt. He'd pushed the quilts off of your torso, letting the cold air attack your upper body, so you knew your hands were cold, and the hiss he let out at the contact was satisfying enough to shut up and actually start following his directions.
You shifted your body up and down, grinding and dry humping his crotch, wishing for him to stop being a tease and just get it over with.
He wasn't letting you compromise, though. Each small sound that left your body met with a soft smirk from him, each halt in your movements a prod from his hands. You'd tried to still your hips entirely once out of frustration, but he'd delivered a slap to your ass that had you gushing, desperate to reach a release even if he'd only allow you it this way.
“I don't think you're trying hard enough.” His voice was lower than before, something gravelly to it as he began pulling your clothing off one item at a time. Your sweater went first, before he flipped your positions and shimmered your shorts off your body, taking underwear soon after and then you were bare to him and he was rolling you once again.
“That's better. Now, where were we?” He moved your hips for you again, but his eyes stayed focused in the rigid peaks of your nipples, bouncing with each rock of your hips. You weren't sure if it was the cold temperature of the room or your sheer need to cum that had them reacting, but you knew he was seconds away from wrapping his tongue around one and giving into you, so you just accepted it.
His hands stayed put, still on your hips, though the direct contact was heating you slightly more. If you looked down, you were sure you'd see a wet patch against his sweat pants, so you didn't.
You just moaned and whimpered searching for your orgasm on top of him.
“What's wrong, Y/N? Do you need my help to finish?” He noticed your every insecurity, your weakness and exploited it. You were running close to inconsolable, desperate to hit that climax now, more than ever before, so you just nodded at him profusely, desperate for him to touch you in whatever way he could.
It wasn't his hand you felt on your clit, though. It was your own, he wrapped a hand around your fingers and bought them up to the correct stop, showing you exactly what he'd like to see.
“Touch yourself, Y/N. Touch yourself and wish it was me.” With the friction from grinding against him for so long, the satisfaction from the rigid tent underneath you and your hands taking his guidance, it was really not long before your pussy finally twitched familiarly and sighed, soaking his pants underneath you as you shuddered in delight.
He had to ruin your moment of bliss by talking.
“Is that enough, slut? Or do you really need to be filled right now?”
You didn't care if he saw you sticking your tongue down his throat as you collapsed on top of his chest as an answer to that question, or if he saw it as what it was - a desperate attempt to shut him up. All you knew was that he tasted sweet and hot, and that his hand wrapped around your throat was also hot as he pulled you up and off of him.
“Let me be clear. I am in charge.” A simple shift of his legs was enough to flip your positions, landing on top of you ungrateful, but you didn't care.
Using his new high ground, he wedged your legs open and slid a single finger inside you as you moaned. He too found success in silencing you by sticking his tongue down your throat, forcing you to battle him for dominance you knew he'd never allow you.
Having cum only moments before, you truly believed that there was no way he was going to push another one out of you after so little time. The night was full of surprises though.
As you relaxed into his intrusion, he opened you up with a second finger, then a third. You already felt yourself building towards your end goal, but it was his head dropping to tour cold nipples that finally had you cumming around his fingers. His mouth was wet, tongue warm against your skin, and he toyed with you so effectively, you practically forgot your previous qualms.
“See? You belong to me before I've even made you mine.” It irked you that he was right. Had this been any other man, you're sure you'd be bragging about such passionate sex for weeks with your friends. You were resentful that it was him, but you didn't want it to end yet.
Your arms pulled up to hide your face as he traced kisses up and down your chest, fingers coming free to pay attention to your since abandoned nipples.
“I can't wait to fuck you. You're going to feel so good wrapped around my cock,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your arms away from your face, making sure your eyes were focused on him before his next line.
“You have no clue what you started. I'm so fucking obsessed with you.”
His hands fell to your face, where his thumb pushed against your lips, slipping into your mouth where you sucked on it, getting it wet as his cock teased the folds of your pussy, running up and down with each gentle push of his hips. You entertained him for a moment before pushing up slightly, his thumb falling from your mouth as you blindly reached for the bedside table. Pulling it open, you were relieved to find what you were looking for.
“If you're so fucking obsessed with me, Spencer, show me.” Carefully unwrapping the package, you grabbed his dick and gently slid the condom onto him, making sure it was secure before you propped yourself back on the pillows, waiting for him to initiate once again.
“Pillow princess. You're acting like I haven't been dreaming of exactly this for the last 12 months.”
You couldn't waste time processing those words before he again ran his cock through the folds of your pussy, then sank himself deep inside you. And you meant deep.
The sudden impact robbed you of your thoughts, pushing out every miserable thought and leaving you with just Spencer and pleasure. The two concepts soon became synonymous as his hips lazily sent him careening in and out of you.
His strokes gained speed gradually until the only words shared between you were the animalistic pants of pleasure, his voice driving you insane as you tried not to get overstimulated before you could cum for a third time.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, Spencer-” your moans turned to screams as your orgasm rolled over you, his dick hitting just the right spot inside you that forced your nails to bite his skin, and forced your voice to scratch at your throat as it pushed up from your gut.
Noticing your relentless twitching, Spencer immediately pulled out of your cunt, allowing you a moment of reprieve. Pushing up to his knees, he moved to your side, his crotch parallel with your face as he rolled the condom off his dick.
Stroking himself to completion, he came right over your lips, your eyes dripping with lust as you licked them clean, catching the dribbles that fell down your chin with your fingers and popping them into your mouth as well.
After your whorish display of desperation, it took a full ten minutes for your brain function to resume.
In that time, Spencer had cleaned both of you up speedily with a hotel towel, wrapped an arm around you and began spooning you once again, his chest warm and comfortable against your back, his scent intoxicating.
It didn't stop being so when you finally came down from your post-cum bliss.
“You're not allowed to tell anyone what happened tonight,” you said, turning over to look him in the eye.
“Nothing from tonight, got it. What about tomorrow?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, am I allowed to tell them how I plan to wake you up tomorrow, and how your current state of dress made it possible, if not directly invited it?”
You flushed at his words, tingling already at the mention of tomorrow.
“We're sharing a room, Y/N. If you think I'm not going to be inside you whenever were both free, you're entirely mistaken.” His voice was clear - not even a hint of hesitancy in his voice.
“I'm not letting you go that easily, Y/N.”
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dannyphantom-zero · 4 months
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Doctor Danny Prompt
Danny Fenton is largely regarded as an ignorant slacker as a result of his schoolwork and study time consistently being interrupted by ghost attacks. Thankfully after Danny is crowned high king of the ghost zone he is able to reign the ghosts in and makes them all swear an oath not to cause trouble, they are still allowed to visit the human world of coarse, some even mask themselves as human and lead ordinary loves even while being dead.
With more time on his hands and little to no ghosts attacks Danny misses the rush he used to get. Then one day a man collapsed in front of him, Danny is able to save the man using CPR and he discovers his new affinity. Medical practice.
Danny goes to college and gets into a hospital as a resident after interning, not long after though the Amity Park hospital closes due to lack of funding and he is forced to find another hospital.
He got a good recommendation from his previous hospital to work at a hospital in Gotham, definitely far from home, but he doesn't let that stop him.
Soon after working there he finds the influx of patients to care for refreshing, he becomes widely known as a genius miracle doctor.
One day he's taking a leisurely walk when he found an injured vigilante, the Red Hood, hes not conscious and therefore unable to give consent for treatment. Danny cares for Red Hoods injuries privately away from a hospital so as to keep the vigilantes identity a secret.
Red Hood is cautious and rude at first, but slowly he learns to open up to the doctor and even get continuously treated by Danny.
Danny is just finishing a shift when he hears about Superman being shot with a kryptonite bullet. Despite using his powers occasionally to treat patients, he's been able to keep his ghost gene a secret.
However that's about to change. He arrives on the seen and pushes his way through the police using a bit of his powers discreetly to get through.
The heroes aren't sure what to do.
"My name's Daniel Fenton, I am an attending physician at Gotham General Hospital, I specialize in supernatural anatomy, Cardiology and Endocrinology"
"All due respect doctor, his skin is impenetrable, you won't be able to operate on him"
Danny kept a cool face.
"That would be true for a normal human, I can't explain right now, every moment we wait is time we could be using to save the patient"
Danny used his ghost powers to see inside Superman body.
Several heroes gasped as they witnessed the doctors eyes turn a glowing green and then his arm became transparent. Danny stick his hand on Superman chest and pulled out the bullet.
As soon as the bullet was out Superman's skin began healing and restoring itself.
Danny let out a breath of relief before letting the superheroes escort him to the hall of justice where they sat with him.
"I would like to begin with we all can't thank you enough Dr" Batman said.
"wow, Mr tall dark and broody is being nice" flash whispered.
"Yes but I'm sure you still have questions for me."
Several heads nodded.
"are you of an alien race?"
Danny chuckled.
"No, nothing like that. My parents were scientists who were obsessed with the study of the paranormal, specifically ghosts. When I was young, around the age of fourteen I would say, my friends convinced me to go inside the newly constructed portal shell that my parents had tested earlier that day."
He paused waiting for them to take in his words before continuing.
"It had failed to operate then so I went in thinking it was safe. I was wrong. My parents had unknowingly instilled the charge to start the portal on the inside of the shell. I didn't know it was even there until I tripped on some tangled exposed wire and my hand pressed it"
"did it hurt?" Flash asked. He got a few dirty looks for that question but Danny just gave him a friendly smile.
"in a word, yes. It was excruciating. I was electrocuted for a half a minute. On top of that I had accidentally started the charge to the portal shell while being inside. This caused an outside substance called ectoplasm to enter my DNA sequence permanently changing it"
"ectoplasm" Batman muttered.
"in simpler terms, I'm half ghost."
"That's not possible! You would have to be half dead to be-" Flashs words were silenced with a swift smack to the back of the head by wonder women.
"Yes, I am technically half dead. I had to battle these ghost entities for a while to make sure they didn't wreck havoc in the small town o grew up in."
"Forgive me, but of that's true why aren't you there now"
Danny chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck a little nervous of their soon to be reactions.
"After I was forced to defeat the current ghost king and put him back onto the sarcophagus of forever sleep, the title became mine. I gained respect and control over the ghosts who were causing trouble amd was able to make them stop"
"Your a king" Batman stated.
"i don't refer to myself as such, on truth many ghosts helped imprison the old king, I received the title on a technicality."
He looked down at his hands.
"after the peace had settled in I had begun to feel as though a part of me was missing so I took up the career I have currently."
He smiled at them sweetly as he explained.
"My battle instincts help me when I'm in a crisis situation with a critical patient. With my powers I can calm them and safely restrain them if need be. As you saw today I can also better treat meta humans and alien races with these abilities as well"
"you went from being a hero to being a doctor, that's commendable"
Danny shook his head.
"Not really. I'm doing a selfless thing for selfish reasons"
The league smiled upon him. From then on he was world renowned for his worldly expertise and protected.
Should I make this into a whole fanfiction or not? Because I want to go into more detail but I want to know what you all think first.
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blkkizzat · 7 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!
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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?
No
…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!”
“Y/N!”
“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. 
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© 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
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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)
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