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#mostly Dean being mean
cthulhum · 5 months
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does anyone realize how crazy it is to have the actor of a mostly headcanoned queer ship say the fans were never crazy and they were right all along after 10+ years of everyone just absolutely going nuts over the said queerbaited ship
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lambmotifz · 2 months
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tbh one of the main reasons why i disagree with the popular take that sam secretly wants to be dominant/aggressive with dean is because i can’t think of at least one scene from canon where sam (possessed!sam and soulless!sam don’t count) genuinely enjoyed having control over dean. i think it’s very telling that there’s a lot of moments where sam willingly lets dean take physical control in their relationship and it seems like he even welcomes it. something about the way he willingly lets dean manhandle him or hit him and the way he makes himself small around dean, especially when dean hugs him. much to think about. he also knows that dean *needs* to have physical control over him, dean literally craves it and he goes violent and insane when he doesn’t have at least a little bit of control over sam. that’s part of why sam is able to manipulate him by being submissive but again he prefers it that way/does it willingly, and honestly i’m obsessed with that. yes it’s fucked up but that’s why their dynamic is so delicious
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wigglebox · 4 months
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Arrival! [original characters Max and Jude]
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acesammy · 1 year
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I actually hate it when Sam leaving for college gets framed as Sam leaving dean, and poor dean not getting the ~luxury~ of escaping the life… bc at the end of the day like. Dean was 22.
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quietwingsinthesky · 1 year
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I’m kind of new in the Supernatural fandom and I genuinely do not understand the hate so many people seem to have towards Sam. Like, when I first started watching, I thought Sam and Dean fans would be pretty evenly distributed. Are the majority of the viewers Destiel fans that hate anyone that isn’t part of their favorite imaginary couple, or is something else going on? Is Sam just unlikable to that many people?
Well. Okay. We can’t discount that Destiel is a major factor in this. You know, for one thing, a lot (and I mean a lot) of destiel content will just cut Sam out, which to be fair is not uncommon for ship content as a whole but when you’ve got such a juggernaut as destiel, it definitely affects fandom perception as a whole. That’s not even getting into how people who haven’t watched the show will then get into destiel and not supernatural, meaning the only Sam things they get are scraps from within a largely dean-and-Cas-centric narrative.
There was, probably still is, a sizable amount of people who would happily say they skipped the first three seasons to get to Cas, which is!! The first three seasons are a lot of Sam! (And of building Sam and Dean’s relationship, central to the show!) Starting in s4 launches you straight into the demon blood arc with no context of what Sam was like before or how desperate and grief-riddled he would have to be to get to this point, meaning all people see is Sam Acting Bad. And first impressions are hard to fix.
To be fair, it’s not only on destiel and it’s wider effects on how the fandom perceives… anything. (And that doesn’t just effect perception of Sam, either! It leads to distorted views of other characters, im thinking John and Benny rn, they get the worst of it.) The show itself also fails Sam. A lot. He is consistently underwritten, his agency is undermined and then that’s never addressed, and his interests are never really shown as cool and quirky like Dean’s. Dean gets episodes around his love of cowboys, Sam gets his love of true crime mentioned now and then, you see what I mean.
People will say insane shit about Sam. Like, “Sam is boring” is the least egregious take I’ve ever seen. From “Sam going to Stanford was selfish and bad” to “How Dean treats Sam is okay and normal because Sam doesn’t leave him”. It’s just. It’s very weird.
Full-disclosure, I consider myself a fan of both brothers, but I’ve got heavy Sam bias in my own ships and what I tend to reblog. So take that as you will.
(P.S. anyone else with thoughts or a different view on the fandom trends, feel free to chime in.)
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big news, everyone: apparently once you've done bad things, you are never allowed to express that anything someone else does is wrong ever again, even when that is objectively true! <3
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maipareshaan · 2 years
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Its interesting how Dean having blood on him is mostly always extremely tragic, like its always attached with him being beaten bloody. And in scenes like s2 bloodlust the blood splatter on his face is also about the tragedy of hunting. Its gross, ya its kinda cool, but its framed in a deeply morbid way.
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castielmacleod · 2 years
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I do hate 8x22 with my whole heart but god I LOVE Crowley’s speech near the end. Pop off king
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caruliaa · 2 years
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i think 1989 is no longer my least fave taylor album. but thats also terrifying to me bc the taylor album that is my least fave in its place at least based on what iv seen has very vicious fans
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Out of all of the things to go full conspiracy theory over, why Destiel?
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blkkizzat · 11 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)
ღTaglistღ: @callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @akaza-simp01 @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @samicamy-13 @strvqtt @wisteriaflowersss @spookyy-gracee @jujutsualy @anakalana @crying-person @missphanosaur18 @jazzmynerule @megatqistina @trobed1312 @mimiemie @insomninaz @bloodysweetcat @cyyberm00n @nikkitc0703 @briefrebelfanalmond (so sorry if I missed anyone but I'm delirious rn forgive me ily)
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— BOULEVARD OF BROKEN DREAMS
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SUMMARY : sharing a room with sam when dean has the sex drive that he has usually means he has to be quiet when he’s doing the dirty with his girl.
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : sam winchester
WARNINGS : smut, nsfw (18+), fluff, alcohol, sub!dean, exhibitionism tbh, ✨saliva✨
WORD COUNT : 2.9k
A/N : title from green day’s song. I believe in subby dean and I love him! so, here’s the first dean fic I wanna share. I really appreciate y’all :’) Xx
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Dean grunted softly as he moved his hand up and down his cock. He smirked beside him at his sleeping girlfriend, and then looked ahead at the silhouette of his hand beneath the sheets moving up and down, outlined by the street light shining through the thin curtains. The sound of the sheets ruffling was loud in the nighttime, almost muffling the sound of his cock, and he carefully shoved the sheets off himself while keeping Y/N blanketed.
He closed his eyes, bit his lip and started to picture Y/N sucking his dick. He pictured her awake comfortably naked between his legs with her hot mouth wrapped around him. It was more exciting knowing that she was sleeping next to him, that he was imagining her pleasuring him the way he knew she could if she were awake. He was so turned on, but he was mostly teasing himself, being quiet enough that Sam wouldn’t wake up, but loud enough so that Y/N would.
Sam had gotten drunk with Dean, but unlike Dean, he blacked out as soon as his overgrown body hit the bed. That meant nothing was waking Sam up anytime soon, not a monster, not an apocalypse, not even the way Dean panted trying to get himself off. He didn’t mind edging himself a bit longer, he was willing to wait as long as he had to before she woke up and gave him what he needed. And he needed her real bad, so he wasn’t gonna stop, but he wasn’t gonna let himself finish either.
After the hunt, a successful case of killing a pack of werewolves in the woods, Dean decided to take Y/N and Sam out for drinks. The thing was, when Dean got drunk, he became more clingy than usual and he would start acting cute. He remembered bits and pieces of what he did when he was drunk. From getting her into his lap while he talked to Sam and some random hunter in a green, leathery booth. To the way he clung to her the whole time, when he’d drunkenly gone and played pool with a bunch of idiot college students trying and successfully hustling them.
He remembered constantly kissing her cheek, holding her soft face in his hands to make out with her when he dragged her around the bar finding different things to do with himself. And he remembered flirting with her. He remembered that cute little smile on her face and the even more adorable blush that painted her cheeks when he gave her his famous smoulder.
He remembered that she’d stopped drinking after just one drink. She was taking care of him and Sam. She’d driven them back to the motel and she babied him into bed despite the fact that he was trying to seduce her. He blushed at the memory, the way he kissed her neck and groped her beautiful body, making it hard for her to take his clothes off so he could sleep comfortably.
He moaned softly at a particular twist around his cock, and he changed his fantasy, preferring to imagine all the dirty things Y/N would say to him as she fucked him. He could faintly remember how her walls felt around him, her sweaty body pressed against his, setting his skin on fire with her touch. Her name fell from his lips, spilled into the quiet room, and she shifted beside him at last. He whispered her name again and again, praying that she would wake up and make him cum herself.
He slowed the pace in which he jerked himself off when she nuzzled into his bicep, her soft lips still against his tense muscle. She mumbled something against his skin, but could only hear the sleep in her voice and was unable to decipher a word she said. He gazed down at her and squinted his eyes to make out her face, but he couldn’t see much as she was shadowed by his body. He only felt her hand move down his chest, warm and soft against his body. He gasped, squirmed when she brushed her fingertips against his tummy, and squeezed his eyes shut when she wrapped her small hand over his.
“You’re so loud,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.
“Y/N,” he moaned, letting her fingers replace his. She stroked him lazily, felt her little smirk against his arm when he moved his hips up in search of more friction. “Please,” he whined quietly. He turned his whole body to face her so she changed her hand’s position, squeezing his cock torturously and rubbing her thumb over the leaking slit of his cockhead. “I can’t,” he gasped, pressing his forehead against hers.
She let go of his cock and pressed her lips firmly against his, “I’ve got you, baby,” she murmured against his mouth. His fingers dug into her waist, pulling her closer to him. “What do you want? Tell me, Dean,” she teased, moving her lips along his jaw and neck, thrilled to hear his heavy breaths.
“You,” he whispered, “I need you, need to be inside you right now,” he moaned. He pawed at her hips and started to tug her underwear down impatiently. She giggled, helped him get them off her, and laughed when he hung them over the lamp. He smiled softly at the sound and moved on top of her, settling between her opened legs before he leaned down to kiss her.
He slid his cock through her wet folds, felt her wiggle her hips, and gasp against his mouth when he pressed the head of his cock against her clit. “I thought you were too needy,” she whined playfully. He felt her pout against his lips and pulled away slightly attempting to make her face out in the darkness, only the yellow glow from outside illuminated her. He chuckled at her and grasped her hip, pinning her down to the mattress as he panted against her parted lips.
“You’re such a little tease,” he laughed softly, smirking at her when he sat back on his legs, lifting her legs onto his thighs.
He used the streetlight to guide his cock to her slick entrance, his plump lips parting with satisfaction at the sight of her glistening cunt stretching around his cockhead. He slid into her smoothly and he stared—utterly enchanted, as she took every inch of him until he was buried fully in her warmth.
“Like that?” He asked smugly and she rolled her eyes, her hands flexing on her thighs, squirming from how big he was. Dean smirked down at her when he noticed, swivelling his hips tortuously just to feel the clench of her walls around him. He collected saliva in his mouth and watched it drip down to her pussy, right on her folds.
He licked his lips to clear the lingering spit on his swollen lips and brought his thumb to her clit to smear his saliva over the sensitive nerve. He gently moved his hips against her, turned on at the sight of the black shirt she wore haphazardly scrunched around her waist from the angle he had her positioned in.
He leaned over her, placed his arm by her head, and dropped loving kisses along her jaw. Her heavy breaths mingled with his, the only sound bouncing off the cheap walls besides the gentle sound of the bedsprings. He used various methods to massage her clit until she was squirming beneath him again. Her walls continued to pulse around him, wet, warm, and driving him crazy. “I’m not gonna last,” he whispered shyly against her shoulder.
She pushed up against him gently with her hips, her hands held onto his triceps, so he moved back a little to check on her. “Everything okay?” He asked softly, distractedly slowing down the circles on her clit to study her flushed face.
When she nodded, he kissed her forehead, and started to pull out slightly to thrust back into her again, but he didn’t expect her to shove him back slightly, forcing his cock to slip out of her all the way.
He looked at her with confusion, “wha-“
He caught himself with his arms behind him, stared at her as his shirt she wore slipped down and covered her naked body again. She climbed onto his lap again, “you’re so pretty,” she murmured. Holding his chin with her fingers, she swiped her thumb across his bottom lip and his breath hitched. His cheeks started to warm up at the tingling that followed her finger along his lip and he whined again. “Shh, stop being so loud,” she told him quietly, and leaned forward to silence him with a heated kiss.
He slid his hands between her legs, shoving two fingers into her without a care, pumping them in and out, moaning into her mouth at the squelch his fingers and her cunt made around him. She sucked on his bottom lip and he groaned, grinding his palm against her clit and adding a third finger, feeling like he could cum just from the wetness that started to cover his knuckles and wrist.
“I love it when you get needy,” she panted, moving his hand away by grabbing his wrist. She lifted his wet fingers to her lips and licked her arousal off them, keeping her eyes on his as his lips parted in surprise. “Are you gonna cum?” She teased, placing his hands on her hips under the shirt she wore.
“Stop teasing me,” he whispered, swallowing some saliva to moisten his dry throat. She laughed quietly and he bit his lip, becoming flustered with her confidence. “Please,” he begged softly, lowering her hips to press against his so her wet pussy could brush against his throbbing cock.
She let out a faint hum, letting him fuck himself with both amusement and fascination. He closed his eyes despite wanting to feel demeaned by the look on her face and got lost in the tiny fragments of pleasure he was feeling. He pressed his forehead against her shoulder, focusing on teasing her soaked entrance with the soft head of his cock until she gave in and shifted to let him slip inside her.
“Fuck… yes,” he moaned, gripping her hips tightly as her warmth and her slick coated his cock. She ground her hips against his, squeezing his cock until he whined and bucked his hips up into her. “Fuck, don’t do that,” he hissed.
She chuckled mischievously, then shushed him as she slowly rolled her hips against his, his mouth parting. A broken moan left his lips, but it was immediately muffled by him when he bit her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist. He thrusted his hips upwards, slowly moving in and out of her until she was pushing him onto his back and riding him.
He screwed his eyes shut, biting his lip so hard he thought he’d taste his blood soon. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, bruising her soft skin with his desperate touch. His eyes fluttered open to watch her lift herself up and down with her lips parted and swollen. He felt like cumming just at the sight of her and she must have expected a loud moan to fall from his now open mouth because she put her hand over it just as a groan rumbled in his chest, deep and hot.
Her walls spasmed around him, a quiet curse falling from her lips. She looked over at Sam cautiously, picking up the pace and keeping her hand over his mouth. He felt even more turned on, noting the way she shifted her hips to add friction to her clit. He whined against her hand, desperately meeting her thrusts as the bed springs started to squeak louder.
He didn’t even care if Sam woke up anymore, he tugged her hips forward, wanting her full attention on him. He felt his cock swell and twitch inside her, so close to spilling hot inside her. She was driving him crazy, especially with the way her walls squeezed his cock so tight as if it would shut her up.
It drove him over the edge and he came inside her almost involuntarily. Another moan from him heated her palm. She gasped from the unexpectedness of it, leaning over him, her soft hair tickling his skin. She moaned loudly into the bed, pressed her face into the sheets by his head as she trembled and came on his cock. Her warm walls quivered and dripped around him, her hips moving on his cock slower as she rode out her orgasm, his sweaty skin sticking to hers.
She turned her face slightly, her warm breath tickling his ear. He lifted his hand up to move her hair behind her ear and she removed her hand from his mouth, resting it over his thumping heart. They both laid there for a few moments, unmoving, panting in an attempt to catch their breaths and clear their hazy minds. He lovingly pressed kisses along her cheek, temple, and the tip of her ear, rubbing his hand up and down her sides under her shirt.
“That was so hot,” he said after a while, sounding breathless and hoarse. She laughed tiredly and she started to lift the top of her body off him, only to lean forward and kiss him deeply. He was smiling, his mouth readily open for her. His tongue slipped into her minty mouth, soft tongues rolling over each other languidly.
Both of them smiled into the kiss and he wrapped his arm around her waist, moving her onto her back and slipping out of her, careless about the mess he was making between their bodies. She hummed softly against his mouth, a little laugh making her part from his lips. He continued to admire her, fixing her sex hair as best as he could before he dropped a kiss on her forehead, trailing his lips down to her warm cheeks and neck.
“We have a long drive tomorrow, D,” she murmured, her nails gently scratching his scalp, “you should sleep now, I’ll take care of the mess.” He moaned quietly, agreeing with her, pressing his face into her neck and kissed the spot his lips were closest to.
“Mkay,” he mumbled, moving up off her. He looked around for his boxers and felt the bed shift as she made her way to the restroom to clean herself up. He grabbed her underwear off the lamp and grabbed his phone, using the lowest light level to check if they’d stained the sheets.
Despite having told him she’d take care of it, he didn’t listen. He shoved the clean sheets away, feeling both shy and prideful at the mess, and pulled the dirty covers off to hide them as best as he could and replaced them as quickly as he could with clean ones he always made sure to ask for beforehand when they got a room.
He moved out of bed when he was done, waddling to the bathroom with her underwear in his hand. He smiled fondly when he found her washing her hands with the water hardly turned on so it wouldn’t be loud and wake Sam up.
“Your underthings,” he said with a grin, holding them up for her. She turned to look at him and chuckled, drying her hands with a towel to take her underwear from him. “Allow me, my love,” he said dramatically, stopping her from taking them. She gave him a look but played along.
He squatted down in front of her and lifted her leg with his hand around her ankle. She held onto his shoulder for balance, allowing him to help her into her underwear with an amused and affectionate smile on her face that glowed in her eyes.
“Thanks, Dean,” she murmured. She pecked his lips when he stood back up to her face, after having pulled the soft cotton up her legs and comfortably in place around her hips. He squeezed her ass playfully, drawing a laugh from her.
She followed him with her eyes when he moved towards the sink to wash his hands with soap and warm water. She waited for him patiently, leaning against the doorway and playing with the hem of the black t-shirt. She admired him this time, took in the messy and soft spikes of his hair, his teeth pulling at his plump lip. He was gorgeous and he looked over at her, his eyes warm and loving as he took her in too.
“Let’s go to bed, my little flower.” Dean dried his hands with the same towel she used and reached out for her hand, seeing her roll her eyes and snort at the new pet-name he was trying out for her. “You know you like all the names I give you,” he smirked down at her, turning the lights off after her to make their way back to bed.
“I do,” she admitted after a while, biting her lip to stop her happy smile. He could see her thanks to the bright lights outside and the drawn curtains. A delightful feeling filled his stomach and made him feel warm all over. He took her face in his hands, giving her the type of kiss people would give each other if they were saying hello after missing each other their whole lives.
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do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform
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casdeans-pie · 12 days
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--- "Angel Erogenous Zones" ---
The middle of an Angel's neck, where their Grace can be extracted from - wouldn't that be a vulnerable, sensitive spot?
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It hadn’t been Dean's intention to be kissing Cas against his bedroom door, but as soon as it had slammed shut behind them that’s where they’d ended up.
There had been a desperate mix of gripping and pulling to draw each other in – and then suddenly they were on each other. Dean had both his fists full of trench coat, while Cas's hands had started on his shirt collar and slid up to the back of his head.
Dean had a fuzzy, vague realisation (his blood had far more interesting places to go than his brain) that Cas could be completely immovable if he wanted to be, so the satisfying slam of his back against the door was something that he’d let happen.
God, wasn’t that something.
Dean groaned aloud at that thought and Cas made a high breathy sound in response, like being able to make the other feel good left them in a never ending feedback loop of pleasure.
Their angle changed slightly, their bodies one long tight line of heat, as Dean reluctantly pulled his lips away to desperately breathe some air before he passed out.
Cas tilted his head back, baring the column of his throat, as Dean tasted it with his lips and tongue, while he got his breathing back under control. But Cas flinched violently when his mouth touched the skin below his chin.
“Sorry,” Dean said, freezing immediately. Even he could hear how wrecked and rough he sounded. He pulled back and searched Cas’s face – was he making sure he was okay, or looking for signs of regret?
Dean couldn’t help it when he placed a gentle hand on Cas’s cheek and wiped a thumb gently under his eye. They were both shining brightly with an inner light that seemed to swirl through what Dean could see of his irises (though they were mostly dilated pupil). He wanted to feel smug at the effect he’d had, but concern at the flinch he’d definitely felt overrode everything else.
Cas shook his head slightly and let out a long, shaky breath. “No, I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t think I would react like that.”
“I- uh- I mean, I get it man, this is uh- kinda new territory for us and-” Dean tensed and went to move away, but Cas held him close.
“No, please... Please don’t think it was a reaction to this. To us. There’s a scar,” Cas explained, voice even lower than usual, “from when my Grace was removed and I became human. It never healed.”
Dean felt his whole body relax again in relief and he pressed in closer, just barely resisting the urge to kiss Cas again, to catch sight of the thin white scar straight across his throat. The lowlight of the bedroom caught the edge of the raised line, making it stand out slightly, and Dean felt a deep pang of sympathy. The hand he’d left still resting on Cas’s cheek slid down to his neck and touched the very edge of it carefully.
“Does it hurt?”
“N-No,” Cas said, his breathing speeding up as his eyes slid closed. Blue light escaped from between his eyelashes.
Dean blinked in surprise. Wait...
“Sensitive,” Cas added, “sensitive place for ah-angels.”
Oh.
Dean had slid a finger over the scar gently while Cas had been talking and now he understood his reaction before.
“Sensitive, huh,” Dean repeated.
The moment that his mouth touched the scar he heard Cas gasp.
He paused, giving Cas the opportunity to tell him to stop, but instead a hand returned to the back of his head and fingers dug deep into his short hair. Dean smiled, knowing Cas would be able to feel it, and added a gentle mouthing of teeth. Cas made a noise in the back of his throat that shot a bolt of want down Dean’s spine.
He bit down harder.
A hand slammed over Dean’s eyes that shielded him from a blindingly bright blue light bursting out into the room.
Dean laughed, his chest full of warmth, as he crushed their bodies even closer together to hide his face in Cas’s shoulder.
“Oh, Angel,” Dean whispered, as a tingling electricity accompanied the light and seemed to slide over and under his skin. He had the strangest thought that it felt like silky feathers.
The light finally faded and Cas thumped his head back against the door.
“So, turns out, angel erogenous zones are a thing,” Dean said, his voice rumbling deeply with affection and warmth.
“I’ll teach you mine if you teach me yours,” Cas said breathlessly.
“I can work with that.”
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prentissluvr · 2 months
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fake-dating!au headcanons — sam winchester
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cw : gn!reader, fluff, pining!!!, blood mention, kissing, lil bit of swearing, poor editing, 1K words. requested !
prompt : you and sam pretend to be dating for a case.
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⟢ “you’re too stiff, sam,” you hiss into his ear, leaning in close and making your features look all pleased as you say it, “we have to make this believable.”
⟢ when you pull back, sam looks like he’s trying not to blush, only because you’ve got your arms wrapped around his big upper arm, and you’re whispering things into his ear
⟢ he can feel your breath as you speak, and he thinks it could make him go absolutely crazy
⟢ he’s so flustered, and yet he’s starting to become determined to match your level of dedication, less so to succeed in the hunt, and more so to make you just as flustered as him
⟢ tonight, you pose as a lovesick couple in a decently nice restaurant
⟢ the monster you’re after has been scouting out couples here and preying on the most especially lovey dovey, affectionate couples it can find
⟢ you almost asked to do it with dean; he’s your best friend and you don’t have a massive crush on him like you do with sam
⟢ despite the fact that dean’s a weirdo, it would actually be easier to act the part with him because you’d feel exactly nothing except silly, but he insisted you do it with sam before you could even suggest anything else
⟢ and this close to sam, snuggled up into his side, you feel exactly… well, maybe, everything
⟢ you feel so much that you’d be zero percent surprised if you spontaneously combusted right then and there
⟢ and yet, you’re dedicated to finishing up this case, and you’re learning to enjoy the situation; if you have an excuse to be like this with sam, even just for a night, you’ll take it and make the best of it
⟢ you think you’re doing a grand old job at surviving the close contact, mostly because sam can’t seem to relax for longer than a minute
⟢ but you’re so in tune with him that you feel it the moment his perspective shifts from ‘i don’t know how to act, but i’m trying,’ to ‘i’m trying to induce a heart attack and kill you’
⟢ you’re sure that’s not how he thinks of it, but that’s what it feels like when he finally relaxes into your touch, then loops his arm around your waist and tugs you even closer to him
⟢ he leans close, his lips by your ear as he whispers, “yeah… and it looks like we have competition.”
⟢ you try desperately to keep your face from straying from its carefully constructed lovesick daze, but his breath against your ear makes it more than difficult to keep your composure
⟢ the lovesick look that you have for sam is actually a very natural state of being for you, but normally it comes about when you look at him from afar… 
⟢ or just not when your face is mere inches from his and his arm is solidly draped around your waist
⟢ it takes you a moment to register what sam actually said, and not thinking straight, you turn your head to look at him and ask for an explanation
⟢ you just don’t seem to recall that his face is only inches from yours, so close that your nose brushes against his and you suck in a sharp breath of surprise
⟢ it takes everything in you not to jerk backwards, but you stop yourself by grabbing the lapel of his suit
⟢ “competition?” you repeat, voice coming out quiet and a little raspy
⟢ “yeah,” he whispers back, eyes flicking away from yours for just a moment in the direction of another couple that had just walked into the restaurant
⟢ you glance over; they’re glued to each other’s side, wide smiles and heart eyes to rival anything you’ve seen
⟢ competition is right, which means that you and sam have to step it up, because you’ve spotted the monster already and he’s watching, looking for the best, most affectionate couple to take like he’s been going the past few weeks
⟢ you turn back to sam, looking him in the eyes with a sweet smile, “sam, can i kiss you on the cheek?” you whisper
⟢ “y-yeah, yeah, you can,” he whispers back
⟢ you think your heart could beat out of your chest as you lean closer, then press your lips to his cheek bone
⟢ you linger, then drop your head onto his shoulder and snuggle into him so that he can’t see the look on your face
⟢ whatever’s in your eyes isn’t just an act, and you’re unsure if you can let sam see that
⟢ though maybe it’ll help if the monster can, you’re sure that you look beyond in love at this moment
⟢ sam returns the favor with a kiss to the top of your head and a squeeze to your waist and he’s glad that you can’t see his face either because he looks just as completely and irrevocably in love as you do
⟢ it turns out that the other couple isn’t real competition; the monster clocks that they’re just a short fling, but you two? oh, you love each other and anyone can tell it with ease
⟢ you pretend to be lured out by the monster when he approaches, but the two of you make quick work of him in mere minutes
⟢ it’s the aftermath that’s hard
⟢ it’s the lack of an excuse to be so close to him, the thought of what if i never get to kiss him on the cheek again, what if i never get to kiss him at all? that really gets you
⟢ and now sam knows without a doubt that he goddamn needs you; he’s wondered before but now he knows
⟢ so when he reaches over and wipes away a splatter of blood from your face, you lean into his touch, you step towards him with intent
⟢ he’s not even thinking when his hand lands on your hip, not even when it pulls you closer
⟢ and he almost doesn’t think when he leans in, but he stops just inches away and whispers “fuck, can i kiss you?”
⟢ then your hands are in his hair and your lips are on his, kissing him hard and he’s kissing back with everything in him
⟢ you’re really fucking in love with each other !!!!
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ohsc · 2 months
Note
Maybe something with the reader being shaken-up about a case?
hi lovely! tysm for the ask <3 | sam winchester x fem!reader, 1.2k, hurt/comfort, implied trauma, brief implied gore, brief mentions of death, brief mentions of vomit, sam being so soft and gentle, mostly comfort
She didn’t realise that she was crying until she couldn’t see.
It was like she was looking through an obscure glass window. The bunker’s kitchen blurred out of view, lost behind the film of tears that was quickly leaking.
It was almost funny. She was only eating a sandwich, nothing more. Nothing had been said, nothing had happened. She wasn’t even thinking, not really. Her thoughts had sounded fuzzy and distorted since the case they’d worked two days ago.
She blinked, the film of tears broke and dripped down her cheeks, and the bite of sandwich in her mouth suddenly felt like chewing cotton, like it wouldn’t melt down. She had to swallow it in two lumps, by which point she couldn’t see again, the tears were building too rapidly.
With her impaired vision, the only reason she was able to tell that Sam had also realised she was crying, was when she felt his warm palm against her face.
“Hey,” his voice was so soft it made her chest hurt. “Hey, baby, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
She blinked rapidly to repair her vision, eyelashes tickled with the tears that dropped from them, and when she looked up at him all she could do was nod. She was scared of the sound that'd come out of her if she tried to talk. The pressure in her chest was building like a mentos and coke experiment. If she opened the lid, she’d burst.
Sam thumbed her tears away, delicate as always, and crouched in front of her. He looked so worried. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t his sadness.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he squeezed her knee, and rubbed at her thigh with his free hand. “Do you want some water?”
He didn’t wait for her nod to get up and retrieve it. The glass was cold when it was pushed into her hands, and it took four sips before it felt like the lump in her throat had dissolved only slightly. But it was helping.
Sam didn’t push her to talk. He sat beside her on the bench of the table and rubbed his palm along her spine as she sipped from the cool relief. He was so nice it made her want to cry more. How could someone be so loving? How did he fit all of the gentleness inside of him? His ribs must’ve been straining with the pressure.
“Sorry,” her voice felt too small, too weak. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
Sam rubbed the heel of his palm between her shoulder blades. “Don’t be sorry,” he murmured in that gentle tone of his. “Do you think it could be… I mean, is it the case? Is that what’s bothering you?”
“I’m…” her breath wavered on her inhale. “I don’t-”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Sam took one of her hands with his free one, laced their fingers until all of their knuckles were kissing. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You’re safe.”
The lump in her throat bobbed, and she had to sip the water again.
The case they’d worked that past Wednesday was the first case that had made her physically throw up. The grass has been damp beneath her knees, dew from the green soaked into the denim of her jeans as she hunched over and emptied her stomach, the side panel of the Impala cold beneath her palm where she steadied herself. Sam’s hand had been warm against the back of her neck. Dean’s jacket had been a little heavy over her shoulders. The scene that played in her mind of what they had seen inside that house like a broken film reel had been disgusting. It had been downright evil.
It was the first case that she’d had to step back from and let the boys do their job. The first case she’d sat in the backseat of the Impala for whilst the boys buried what was left of the body.
It was the first case that had numbed her mind a little on the drive back home.
And it was the first case she’d cried about two days after.
The obscure glass was back in the role of contact lenses. Her hand squeezed Sam’s until hers shook, but he didn’t mind. He leaned over her until she was tucked against his side completely, like he’d held her on the drive home from the case.
“I don’t like our job sometimes.” Her voice broke, muffled by his collar. She inhaled deeply, tried to ground herself with his scent.
“I know.”
“I wish we’d never gone there.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
“She was already dead-” the words came out warped around a hiccup and she put her glass down to hug him instead, arms wrapped around his waist like she couldn’t bare to be any further from him.
Sam’s hand came up and stroked through her hair, something that he knew soothed her. Deft fingers pushed through the strands of her hair, nails scratched at her scalp so so lightly, until some of the tension had left her body, left her drained against him.
Her chest still ached.
“You know what I think about, after cases that we don’t win? Cases like that?” Sam’s voice was soft, she heard it through his chest, a deep rumble that had as much of an affect on her as a cat purring in her lap.
“Hm?”
“It’s cheesy, I know, but I think about all the people we’ve saved,” his fingers continued their ministrations as her tears soaked into his shirt. “And we’ve saved so many — you’ve saved so many.”
“But not her.” Her voice broke.
Sam took a breath. “No, not her,” he murmured. “Nobody said this life was easy. But if we wanted the easy life, think about how many people wouldn’t be here because we hadn’t saved them.”
It was a nice thought. That there were people around, living and loving and breathing because of them. But that girl…
“It’ll hurt for a while,” Sam murmured. “It’ll hurt for longer than a while. I can't say anything that’ll ease it. I wish I could, sweetheart,” he kissed her temple. “But… we do a lot of good, you know. You do.”
She nodded, but didn’t respond. She breathed through the rest of her tears in Sam’s arms, and only when the ache in her ribs had lessened did she lean back and looked up at him.
He smiled so softly that made her wonder how he was so perfect for her. It made her wonder how many lives they’d lived together before this one.
“What do you need, sweetheart?” Sam murmured as he lifted a hand and delicately wiped at her eyes, before he just held her jaw like he was holding light. “A bath? A nap? D’you wanna go for a drive?”
Her head rested in his palm like it was crafted for that purpose alone. “A nap sounds nice.”
“Yeah?” Sam smiled a little more, and leaned in to kiss her forehead. She wanted to cry again. “Then we’ll nap.”
Her eyes watered again when she murmured, “Thanks, Sammy.”
“Hey, ‘course,” Sam wiped at her tears once more, like he was trying to brush water from the pages of a book. Delicate, not wanting to ruin what was underneath. “I love you, okay?” He kissed her forehead once more. “We’ll get through this.”
We’ll. Maybe they would, if she had him.
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quietwingsinthesky · 1 year
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Thinking about the two drabbles I did yesterday where Dean was a bit of an asshole, and I do hope that it doesn't come across in those, or in any fic, that I'm making Dean needlessly antagonistic just because I'm more of a Samgirl. Esp when it comes to him reacting to samifer.
It feels realistic to me, whether due to actual logical reasoning or due to his Various Assorted Issues™️, that Dean's obviously not going to accept his little brother having a relationship with the devil with open arms. You know, it's a combination of Dean's canonical Sam-Abandonment-Complex and also, it's Lucifer, on the heels of Ruby, and what's going to present outwardly as "Sam is making a bad choice and trusting the wrong person. Again. So I need to fight back against that," is really covering up the more self-loathing, "I couldn't protect Sam from Ruby, and if he gets hurt/used/etc again, it'll be my fault for letting it happen a second time."
In one drabble, that showed up as 'separate Sam from the reminder of his trauma that he's keeping for reasons I don't understand', which is! hey that's wrong of him to do! even if Sam is only being hurt by keeping it, what gives Dean the right to make that choice? But he is Dean, he is Sam's older brother, and he is going to make that choice to try and protect him, and I love him for that. Overprotective brother who's making choices without knowing the full story. That's the Supernatural way.
Just some of the behind-the-scenes that goes into writing, I suppose. tl;dr Dean is an asshole and I love him so much.
#he really is trying his best! his best is just. not perfect.#which it shouldn't be! he's dean! he has. All The Issues.#god if i wrote ducifer and turned this around and wrote antagonistic sam#actually that would probably be more full-on angst than mostly humor#god the betrayal there. because dean's thing is abandonment yeah but sam's is betrayal.#dean siding against him. dean choosing for him. dean not being in his corner 100%#like wow these idiots are both so codependent. good for them. bad for everyone else. but good for them.#i mean the obvious solution here is that lucifer just fucks everyone because he's a slut-#ooooooooooooo no see now im thinking about ducifer + sam reactions#depending on the time frame it just gets worse and worse#(i'm not reneging on my hc on sam not being tortured in hell for this angst btw. i wouldn't do that.#and dean wouldn't fuck someone who hurt sam like that so moot point.#but post-cage is a fascinating time for ducifer. because of how much sam & lucifer know each other.#for lucifer to go to dean instead? oh. painful. fascinating. but painful.#eventually could be resolved by sam realizing he's still so very important to luci because he always will be.#the boys disentangling the hierarchy of romance with the devil's help. good for them.#it's the same as sam & dean Both realizing that no matter what other relationships they have. they will always put each other first.#winchester brother chosen platonic life partners v important to me. if you can't tell.)#dean winchester#spn#sam winchester#lucifer spn#samifer#lucifer/sam winchester
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