#why do i love him so much when he's a mass murderer

[strixs-bull]

Alright, fuck it, here's my contribution for May the Fourth. Pretty man feat. my atrocious taste in men and a scribbly blurry Coruscant background

Tumblr please please please don't destroy the quality

Bonus Holt Kazed tattoo ver below cut, because weird space-snail tattoos, hell yeah

[gch1995]

Hi! Been thinking about Luke and Vader. How do you think Luke went from wanting to die to believing there was good in Vader? What caused that change/acceptance?

I have a lot of sympathy for Anakin/Darth Vader, and I don’t think it’s fair to place blame on just him for becoming such a deeply dysfunctional and horrifying human disaster as an adult, considering how deeply compromised his agency was his entire life under a series of abusive, hypocritical, and oppressive authority figures within a dystopian galaxy’s fucked up institutions. However, that doesn’t mean Luke wouldn’t have still had absolutely every right to hate his father for hurting him, his friends, and the many other people throughout the galaxy either.

Yet, ultimately Luke didn’t hate his father, even after Darth Vader reached out to him through the force by torturing his son’s friends, stalking him, abducting him, terrorizing him, threatening him, and cutting off his hand to try to coerce him to join the dark side in Empire Strikes Back.

Why?

I think the most obvious reason is that, with a little space and time to recover from the trauma that his father put him through in his efforts to find him and recruit him to the dark side, Luke ultimately sensed the good within Anakin beneath the darkness after he revealed that he was doing all this because Luke was his son, his family, who wanted freedom from Sidious and someone better to bond with than that sadistic asshole his current master was.

Also, in spite of how awful and dangerous it was for Anakin to terrorize Luke, cut off his hand, and threaten him like that on Bespin to try to recruit him to the dark side, he intentionally goes out of his way to avoid outright killing his son by going easy on him battle, giving him chances to escape, and trying to recruit him to the dark side to bond with his son and gain freedom, rather than bringing him to the Emperor.

Yes, he’s being awful, cowardly, and selfish in his methods, but Anakin is also trying to more easily avoid the possibility of one of them getting killed by Palpatine or one another by going after his son to try to recruit him to the dark side to overthrow the Emperor because he knows his master will do worse to Luke and/or himself if he finds out the truth about his son still being alive and a Jedi.

In Empire Strikes Back, Anakin also tells Luke “Don’t make me destroy you” when his son skitters away from him in terror. Though he went about looking for Luke pretty obsessively to try to recruit him for the dark side, once his son actually refuses to be swayed to the dark side by his father on Bespin after being abducted, terrorized, and amputated by him, Anakin notably doesn’t keep hunting down Luke to try to recruit him to the dark side or personally kill him for refusing after he runs away in terror in the movie. He’s upset about it, sure, but he really never wanted for Luke to be killed or hurt long term either.

Then, you also have to examine the fact that Luke didn’t really ever view Owen and Beru Lars as his parents. Though they loved Luke, and he loved them, Owen and Beru still never encouraged Luke to view them as his parents either. They were Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen to Luke, but never mom and dad to him. Luke really wanted someone to be able to identify as his parents. Anakin, flawed as he was, was the first person in Luke’s life to identify themselves as one his parents he had been missing his whole life, which is also why he was particularly desperate to bond with his father and inspire him to turn back to the light side.

If you guys want to chime in, you can!

@abla-soso

@fanfic-lover-girl

@fanfictasia

@komikbookgeek

@yoghurtconsumer

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

We talk about how mischaracterized Hobie is - which he is - but I honestly think someone else is characterized REALLY weirdly by fandom

Miguel O'Hara and Misrepresentation of His Rage: a.k.a Miguel has Ken Energy you fools

[this is a breakdown where I examine Miguel's trauma, his relationship with Miles, his role in The Society, and his personality]

I talk a lot of shit about the Hobie tag, but the over-saturation of smut in the Miguel tag is at critical mass.

And like Latino-fetishization aside, I feel like he's not written as a human.

He's written so flat.

I swear ya'll be writing him as the angriest, coldest, most anti-social man on earth. Ya'll be having him rude and avoidant with no friends whatsoever or a romantic soft latin lover and NO IN BETWEEN

which is so funny cause like... I feel like Miguel is Just A Guy

I know they're easy to overlook but I think about moments like these all the time

But I ALWAYS see him written him as friendless, and cold, or constantly irritated and angry but like - I feel like most of the time Miguel is just some dude. Like in a Good Way.

And he's fine with that.

Miguel runs a Society Full of Spider-people, and they're working for him voluntarily. Peter Parkers wouldn't work for someone they didn't think was genuinely, good-likeable, and level-headed.

He compliments Lego-Spider-Man. When Hobie was there he wasn't pissed he was just like 'not in the mood rn ngl'

and Hobie didn't take the piss outta him - because I feel like him and Hobie have a mutal understanding/relaxed relationship. All throughout the movie Hobie isn't talking bad about Miguel in specific - he never says anything about Miguel being annoying or evil - he's always taking about The Society Miguel has made.

Even Hobie - who will openly talk bad about the PM, doesn't really feel the need to diss Miguel's character in specific. Which I find very interesting.

I think this, along with a couple other things shows that the way we view Miguel in fandom is not really how he is, like..when he's not going buckwild insane.

Miguel and His Role as Canon

I could see Miguel taking his role as boss very seriously - the same way he took being a father.

Miguel has assumed the role of 'leader' over these Spider-people. In his eyes, it's his job to lead these people through their canon events to the other side, for the safety of the universe, and for them to become the people fate says they're supposed to be.

Because he made the mistake of 'going against fate'. A lot of the time we say that Miguel's justification is 'because I suffered, you must too'. But in his eyes, it's more like 'I tried to run from who I was supposed to be and it blew up in my face. Please don't make the same mistake - it's not worth it.'

Quiet literally 'Do what you're supposed to do, and things won't fall apart around you.'

And I think that really says a lot about how he feels about his own choices, and his own daughter.

Miguel broke canon to be with his daughter, and because of that, she - and billions of others, died. And Miguel feels directly responsible for that. In his eyes, he killed his daughter and murdered billions of people.

And although he loves his daughter - he sees it as not worth it. He sees taking her father's place as a mistake.

To Miguel, canon events and the pain they cause are much more 'worth it' and 'tolerable', than the pain and guilt of killing an entire universe.

Because with canon events, there is no fault. It's not your fault you couldn't catch Gwen Stacy. It's not that you're not fast enough, it's that it's suppose to happen. It's not your fault.

But in Miguel's case - it was his fault. It wasn't suppose to happen.

That's why Miles sets him off in a way others don't and can't. Because he wasn't supposed to happen.

When things are under control, Miguel is fine. When things aren't, Miguel isn't.

Miguel needs order. He needs canon. Not because he likes it, but because he feels beaten into submission by it. He feels safe in the idea that canon events happen even if you do everything right, because he still feels the guilt of having done something 'wrong'.

That's why he sees letting people die in canon events as 'the right thing'.

It's the trolley problem.

A trolley is hurtling at someone you love, on the other track there are 5 people. Do you let the one you love die, or do you hit the switch and save them - and take the blame for killing five people?

What's the right thing to do? Save your captain father and letting a universe die? Or letting your father die, but the universe will for sure live.

Miguel has already made his choice, even if he didn't know it at the time. By becoming a father, Miguel hit the switch. And he chose his daughter at the expense of a universe. And he regrets that decision. He feels guilt, like he's to blame.

When canon events happen, there's no one to blame. When anomalies happen, there is.

Miles and Miguel

Miles and Miguel have an interesting and unique dynamic with each other, one that I haven't seen anyone mention yet.

When I look at Miles and Miguel, especially in this scene:

I kinda see Miguel and a past version of himself. Miguel trying to stop what he sees - as someone about to make the same mistake he did.

When Miguel met his daughter, he didn't know about it's threat to the multiverse. And although it might be described as the best time in Miguel's life, he regrets it. If he would go back, he would have rather let his daughter live. Fatherless, but at least she would have lived.

Miguel didn't know. But Miles does. And that's what makes Miguel so furious.

Miles is going to go against canon, be with his dad, and threaten the multiverse. And Miguel believes that if Miles does this, billions of people and beings across a universe will die. 100% totality rate, 100% assured.

Miles is in the same position as Miguel once was. Miles has the same choice. To choose the one he loves over canon.

The only difference is Miles knows. He has a chance.

Miguel believes that Miles can spare himself the pain, and the guilt of murdering billions - if he just listened to him.

Miguel is the only Spider-person who has ever killed a Spider-verse. And he doesn't want that for Miles.

Miles being an anomaly was one thing. He was ready to calmly talk about that. But when Miguel sees him going down the same road as he once did, making the same choice even though Miguel is telling him not to - it makes it snap.

Because if Miguel could go back, knowing what he knows - if Miguel could only be in Miles' place - he wouldn't. Like Rio said - Miguel would kill to be in his place.

He sees Miguel like how Rio describes herself, oddly enough. Rio says she'd kill to be in Miles place, and she doesn't understand his 'irresponsible' behavior. But unbeknownst to her - his 'irresponsible' behavior is more heroic than she can understand.

Miguel is just the same. He sees Miles' choice as irresponsible, that he's making all the wrong choices even though people are throwing opportunity at him.

Miles is the only other Spider-person to risk what Miguel risked. And, genuinely believing everyone will die because of this - he's furious at Miles, the same way he's still furious at himself. He loved his daughter, and he knows Miles loves it dad. But having been on the other side of it all, he sees it as not worth it.

Miguel wants to be the only Spider-man who is the way he is. He doesn't want to Miles to do what he did, become what he is. Because he knows theres no coming back from that.

If Miguel could go back and shake himself and scream in his face to leave Gabriella alone, to just leave her dimension alone, he would. But he can't.

So he does it to Miles.

Miguel as a Boss

I don't think Miguel is an outright mean or abrasive person. I feel like outside of Miles, he's fairly calm, albeit a bit stressed. I could see him being really organized and good at time management -

And I can see Miguel being good with people. I don't think he's the kinda boss that'd be like 'Oh, you had a canon event last night? Your girlfriend fell off a building? Yeah, we get that a lot, get over it.'

And if anything - I think he'd want to help the Spider-people when it comes to processing canon events.

Miguel believes that canon events are necessary, not just to the multiverse, but to the development of who Spider-people are 'supposed' to be. So I think he'd set up support systems around HQ to help them process it, and he'd at least be a bit understanding.

I could absolutely see Miguel as the type to ask a teammate "Are you alright?" after something intense, or telling them to sit out. I could see him giving generous leave for Spiders who are going through stuff.

By Jess's response, it seems as if he leaves most of that to her, but I feel like the fact he stops to tell Gwen "Don't worry, kid." shows that he's use to comforting people, or prioritizes putting people at ease.

I mean, what Spider-man doesn't?

Miguel does seem to get along with people (aside from Miles and Gwen when he's scolding her), and it seems like people do like Miguel.

Miguel's Personality

Tbh - I don't think he's nearly as angry as fandom makes him out to be.

He was raising a child. I imagine that for the most part, he's pretty patient.

Like if you call him a name, he's not gonna get pissed. I feel like he's more likely to be like "Haha. Very funny." Or just pinch his nose bridge and be like "You done?"

I mean I know with all the gnashing and clawing and yelling and going apeshit, it can be easy to imagine Miguel as JUST that.

But I also like to imagine that most of the time, he's just like that normal boss as Target.

And a lot of his day is spent doing boring mundane things.

He's not always standing there brooding over videos of him and his dead daughter. He only does that when he's psyching himself up to yell at Miles.

Outside of that, he probably has a lot more things to do, realistically speaking. Organizing missions, checking status reports, looking over intake forms of anomalies, okaying and vetoing different protocols. Approving new technology, taking complaints from members, dealing with Hobie (an extra job in its own right), fixing things MayDay breaks, etc, etc.

And he's completely fine with that. Maybe he even finds calmness in it. When there's order, and routine, and everyone is working together and there's no kinks in the hose per say, he can operate.

Like yeah he's a little irritated and looks like he only slept 4 hours - but he's here and he's going to work with his team and employees, make sure things run smoothly, and make sure everyone gets home safe.

He's gonna try and make the society a nice place to be and make sure people on the team (like Lego) feel appreciated and odd-one-outs like Hobie get to hang and do what they want without much kickback.

The other Spider-people - like Pavi - wouldn't have joined otherwise.

If Pavi had showed up and Miguel was all stern and cold and rude, he probably would've been like 'no thanks my friend'

Miguel knew Peter B. before he lost Gabriella. So he had to become friends with Peter some way. He was putting up with Peter and his humor by choice, and in return Peter must have found Miguel cool enough to hang out with.

I think it's because Miguel is good with people, a lot of different types of people.

He's pretty down to earth, even if he is a work-aholic. He can be fun to chill or hang out with, even if he's a bit of a tight-ass.

Sure his humor may be dry, and his personality tame, but he's just him.

But I can see him as being a guy who you see at the gym routinely and never say hi to but you just nod at each other in silent respect while doing your workouts sometime.

Or the dude at your job you only see at the coffee machine - you know he does other stuff, but you never run into him anywhere else.

Or the dude who'll stop on the street when you ask for the time and lift one earphone before telling you it, then walking away without another word.

DO YOU GET WHAT I MEAN DO YOU GET THAT VIBE Like just Dude He's like a dad but not like a 'Dad vibe' with like sneakers or anything but like 'Dad who comes to PTA meeting but doesn't talk to anybody and quietly leaves when it's over'.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU UNDERSTAND THIS VIBE It's giving Ken.

Anyways stop avoiding Miguel's Kenergy.

[orionlain]

𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐝𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞 note: I came back from 2 month hiatus go me! anyways ur gonna see me post more on diff fandoms other than horror. sorry bout that guys love u all tho

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧

Your window was open for everyone to see, the curtains being put aside, and with that he could easily take a peek at you.

The mirror light bulb shined upon your skin as you were carefully putting your highlighter around the corner of your eyes. The little specks of glitter and your rosy lip balm complimented your looks, and your hair was put in a tidy style. People would assume you were going on a date. A hookup, a party or the bar. But instead, you were staying home tonight. Why? For your job, which was to open the camera and say hello to your followers.

As you finished your foundation and last touch ups, you started setting up the camera in your computer. Browsing from each web page, and quickly announcing that you were going live for all your fans to flock to your stream. You were grateful for your followers, for the money, but as well as them giving the new found confidence you have nowadays. Your outfits had become more flashier, bold and a bit more risque, and he didn’t like that. Your smile lingered on more, and you received more texts than usual, and he didn’t like that. Your new height of fame and laughter was making you less alert. And that was the only thing he liked, knowing that one day you’ll meet your number one fan, which was him.

He couldn’t lie though, the outfits weren’t so bad, he just wished you wouldn’t have to flaunt it to others. Or that pretty gasp you have on camera when you play a horror game, he wished that you were doing that as he put his knife into you instead. He wished, for everything that you were doing, to those stupid men in the same doormat as you, to those girls who were forcing you to party, to those pesky followers who abide by you no matter what you say; was for him instead. And he wanted so much of you. Even if you didn’t know him, and he was there in front of your house right now as you stream, he wanted you to smile for him as well.

It's been months he's been watching you, he knows what coffee you like, what route you take to go to your lecture, what you order in that nearby bakery. He knows who you interact with in real life, your study friends and your family members, he knows which albums you loved when you went to the vinyl store. And he knows what you do at home. You yell and shout at the game, you make niche jokes about your interests to chat. You scroll down in your constant approvals from the masses, you converse to other creators from an entirely different place of the world.

He knows your two lives. And he found it endearing, found it to be so different from all the other victims he had. When nobody knows what you say and what you are in real life, he does. When nobody on the internet knows what location you were at and what you were studying, he does. He found it so special. Of course, he came into the conclusion he was truly your biggest fan. Whether you put that stupid mask on and off, and you become insane from your two lives blurring into another, he’ll have front row seats to such an event. How sweet.

Ghost_F: Nice shirt cupcake.

“Oh Ghostie! You’re too sweet.” You responded in a flush state. To be honest, you always laughed at the nickname you gave to this fan. You gave this name after he became such a vital follower in the past four months. You can say he was rapidly coming close to being your most noticeable one, after he constantly catches up with your streams daily. He was also giving a hectic amount of money, where you had no clue coming from. Well, he didn’t want you to know that money came from the victims he murdered with cold blood. Maybe next time.

Ghost_F: Whatcha doin’?

“Mhm? I don’t know Ghostie. I believe I’m just gonna talk today. How bout it, chat?” That shirt on you was slowly hanging more down as you face more to the screen, he could see that bra he saw a week ago on a night. It looked good on you. Although, it would’ve been better if there weren't eighty people seeing this as well.

And to his annoyance, your followers agreed to the idea. You were just gonna sit there and stay pretty, which he didn’t mind, but he would rather hear your screams again as you play a game. But, you don’t need a horror game for today. He’ll find a way to help you yelp and cry later.

“Alright chat, let's check the timeline for today- Uh.” You turn your head.

There was a knock on the door. Package delivery? You didn’t order anything. You stand up out of your seat and open your door. There was nothing on the ground. Probably one of those annoying college dudes who prank dorms.

“Sorry, chat! There was a knock on the door. But it was nothing! God, my neighbors are assholes.”

You continued to your stream and shrugged it off as if nothing had happened. You casually just scrolled down onto your posts and saw what was happening to the latest news of your favorite games and movies. Small comments back and forth, making you chuckle, but nothing out of the ordinary. Until one viewer sent out a message in chat.

“Don’t you get scared at night? There's like a killer running around in the streets of your state.”

A fan warned. You heard about the murders happening around the state, especially in your town. But you didn’t seem to be phased by it, knowing how much serial maniacs plague this country with states such as Illinois and Ohio, you became desensitized. Though, you didn’t know so much about the recent papers about this prolific guy.

“Well, I don’t know much about him.” Your chat quickly was then filled with information and rumors. Some say he came from the deep levels of hell, sadistic and twisted. Others told how he looked, how he was covered with a ghastly mask and a dark cloak hiding his figure. More talked about the victims, how they were left in a bloody gruesome mess. Word around the street, he goes by the name Ghostface, because of his uncanny mask. All in all, it freaked you out a little. This man is out free swinging his knife and no police were able to catch him. You started getting paranoid.

Ghost_F: You guys are scaring her. Sweets, don’t listen to them.

“Yeah, chat! I don’t even go out at night, I stay home and talk to you guys. And the likely chance of me getting snatched, is pretty low” You giggle it off.

“Anyways, I’m probably not his type.” You were so wrong.

As you were facing the screen and fidgeting around your hair, you swore you something in the corner of your eye. It stopped you in your tracks. You froze in front of the camera. All of your followers were concerned, asking if you were okay.

“Ah, it’s nothing guys. I’m probably just being paranoid after you guys scare me like that!” You resumed your cool facade. You didn’t want them to know that your legs were bouncing up and down in anticipation for what's next. But you soon finally let yourself calm down, telling your brain it's probably some silly animal or neighbor.

You heard a thump. What was that?

Now you were fully freaked out. You jump out of your setup and slowly walk to the kitchen, to get a pan. You tiptoed to your door, and waited for the figure to come here. The thumping of your heartbeat was all you could hear in your ears, and your breath became anxious as you feared for an intruder coming in. No, no not like this.

In a countdown, you open the door once more. It was bare. Nothing, but you could see a hint of a footprint. Dirt? Blood? You couldn’t tell as it was mixed within the colors of the hallways carpet. But something was going on. And yet you close the entrance to your home, shrugging it off to keep up with your stream. You come back to where you reside, and update your followers. Telling them constantly there was nothing wrong. You brush it off, hoping for them to stop trying to interrogate what had happened. You didn’t wanna think about it too much.

Soon, minutes passed and you finally had your fans stop nagging and continued with the next topic. The nerves in your body were finally going down, and you could see yourself sinking into the chair with relaxation. Nevermind what had happened, it wasn’t your problem anyways.

You received a message.

Who was it? The notification went on your screen, and you check on your account on who it was. Hoping it isn’t a scammer or some creep.

It was revealed to be your follower, Ghostie. Hello, it said.

You message him, asking what’s up. No response. You waited for some sort of confirmation or reply after he said a simple hello. Ominous and a little worrying. You sat there, furrowing your brows as you stood by. The stream was finally coming to a close, and there was still no updated news from the man. You sighed, you’re going to leave it be.

Ghost_F donated 2000 dollars.

“Holy shit! Ghostie, what the hell?” He was toying you at this point. This mysterious user was playing mind games with you, and you had no clue why. Just a pitiful gut in your feelings, waiting and responding with surprises. The night was getting even stranger.

Everybody in the chat was shocked. Praising the guy for the huge donation and telling you deserved it. You felt lost of what to say, how do you even reply to such a generous amount of money? If he keeps it up, your entire debt would be gone by the end of the month. And you couldn’t help but feel shameful, thinking about how you didn’t really do that much. You sat around and played games, there was nothing honorable or worth spending a gold bar on.

“Jesus Christ! That’s the biggest donation I-I ever received.” You look at the camera with your face feeling a little flustered.

“How can I make it up to you?” This will bite you in the ass later.

The man privately messaged you. It says;

Go on a call with me, sweets. Stay on live.

Sketchy, but you didn’t wanna ruin this generous deal. You obliged, and you tell your following that you’ll go on a call with him, expressing your happiness and thanks. None of them opposed the idea, they probably wanted to interact with this unknown user who came into the community out of nowhere. Joking about how this bizarre online stranger was going to make you end up like those victims. And you were curious too, who was this guy? Who was Ghost?

His profile was just a default one, no bio, no additional excerpts, just a username. Hesitating at first, the unknown user startled you, it made you draw back and doubt. But you ignored your gut screaming at you to stop. You wanted to make your number one supporter happy, nothing bad right?

You started the phone call. Sitting there, anticipating for him to join.

“Hello?”

“Hey doll.” Wow. His voice was smooth and raspy. You blushed at the sound of his words, it was all rugged and yet deep. It was attractive, especially with that name he called you, you couldn’t help but feel heat rising on your cheeks. And chat wasn’t helping either, spamming in with comments of how nice he sounded, teasing with your sudden reaction, you could feel embarrassment furrowing into your body.

“Um- well I want to say a huge thanks to you man. Thanks Ghostie!”

He chuckled. Don’t do that!

“No problem sweet’s. You can make it up to me.” His comment piqued your interest. What can you do in return for his huge donation? Play a game? Do a silly prank? Or wear a costume? You didn’t know, but as much as bad as it sounded, it made you curious. The deal was so lucrative. It weighed like a mouse leading to a trap, and you were still wanting to know more. About him. About this mysterious man. About this fan that you couldn’t help but have your eyes on. You needed to know more.

“Pfft- Do I have to wear a cute dress or something?” You tease.

“Oh no doll, I wish though,” Huh? “Just a question would do.”

A question? This guy was really strange. Out of all the things he could’ve told you to do, he wanted to just ask you a question. Hell, you would’ve actually worn something for him if you really had to. He disregarded that option though. Something more he had in mind it seems.

“What’s your favourite horror movie?”

Strange, but nonetheless intriguing. You look back into your memory, thinking of the multiple movies you have watched. You always loved the horror genre, so it would be harder to pick out which ones you loved the most. Nightmare on Elm Street, Hellraiser, Texas Chain Massacre, the list goes on, and you didn’t want to pick such a basic answer. Thinking back to your recent watches, you reminded yourself that you watched Halloween. And you enjoyed that movie, so you’ll use that as an answer.

“Mhm, Halloween. The guy with a white mask and blue outfit.”

“Good pick, cupcake. Why though?”

“Well it was a really good movie, it had a lot of scares and had me tense for a little bit and- chat don’t say that!” Oh god. Chat was telling your real honest opinion of the movie, and said you were lying. Laughing and spreading emotes, and told Ghostie that you liked the movie because of the killer. In a drunken state of mind in one of your past streams, you mentioned that you had the hots for Myers. It haunted you ever since, and you forgot that people remember that little fact of yours. You were punching yourself in the inside, dying from all the humiliation.

“You have a crush on Myers?” He asked, chuckling on the side. He was happy knowing he was your type.

“Yeah. God that’s so bad. I-I don’t know how to explain it, I mean he’s a killer!” You giggled in response. Admitting to how hilarious and humbling it is. All the while, the other side of the phone is smiling underneath the mask. Smirking with your cute answer, he can’t help but to awe at your little face cringing from chat nagging on to you. He couldn’t wait for you to realize that he was one too. A dirty, murderous, criminal, who has eyes on you. He couldn’t wait for you to look at him and see your adorable face.

“It’s not that bad, sweets. People love bad boys.” You could hear his grin even if you didn’t see his face.

“Ok, ok, just ask me a different question!”

“Alright, alright. Hm. You got a guy?” Oh christ! You stood aghast, a little shocked from the boldness. In front of viewers too, he didn’t care that you had fanboys or loyal people loving you. Yet, you played along, wanting to tease around as if you were interacting with a beast. You were too curious to give up.

“No, I’m too busy with streaming and school. Are you hitting on me or something?” His laughter ensued, it sounded mischievous.

“I don’t know, am I? Tell me doll, do you think I am?” He was playing with you. Taunting you. You didn’t know how to respond, it made you stutter with your words. You hated it so much. But, god, was it attractive.

“I mean- I don’t know! I think you are!” His laugh became even more boisterous. You were just so fun to tease. He never had a victim like this in a while. Never had a girl like you being so eager and yet so hesitant. It amuses him, your defiance brings him entertainment like never before.

“Oh cupcake! You’re making me laugh.” You giggle back to him. “I just have one more question.”

“Ok, ok. What Ghostie?”

“Where do you live?”

What?

You froze. You didn’t know if you were hallucinating what he just said, but the silence told you otherwise. He means it. Chat became quiet. They were just sending messages with emojis seconds ago, and now becoming fearful as you were. Your mouth went dry, and you could feel your throat perk up.

“I can’t, can’t say that.” Your eyes well up, what do you do?

His breath was becoming noticeable. And his voice changed into a more sinister tone.

“That’s okay. I already know anyway.”

He immediately left. And you look to chat. They were just as puzzled and terrified as you were. Shaken to your core, you end the stream. What just happened? It was supposed to be a joke, but now it ended up as something much more threatening and dark. Due to this, you jumped out of your seat, and ran to the door for the third time.

Checking the peephole, hoping to not see a single being outside your unit. Your hands were shaking. Nervous and petrified, you get away from the entrance again. Your brain was playing tricks with you, or there really was someone else playing with you.

Though, you could hear notifications going off in the background. Your fans were concerned for you. Asking if you were okay, if you were safe, and all you could respond with was a yes. It was a troll you assume. A terrible, scary one to be exact. Until a message popped up onto the top of your screen.

Ghost_F: See you soon.

Alarmed, you press onto the profile. It was deleted. Content unavailable. You were fucking freaked out. You called your friends, hoping to be comforted and gain help. But no response avails.

You sat there on your chair instead. Heart beating to the extreme lengths to the point where you could hear it ringing in your ears. Staring at the screen, looking at the message, trying to see if you can decipher its cryptic tone. Hoping to think positively, you put it aside and think it’s a joke. All streamers go through it, having a creepy encounter with viewers, and this is the same thing. Nothing dangerous is going to happen, it’s just some weirdo freaking you out. Right? Yeah it is. It’s just an offhand interaction.

Sighing, you closed the computer and went to the bathroom. Cleaning yourself up and pondering to yourself, if that was really true. And coming back to your bed, relaxing as you scroll on your phone to remind people that it’s just a troll. Mentioning you thousand of times with concern, and telling you it was a real threat. Although, you ignored it. Was it actually a threat? Probably not, because it’s been hours since the incident, and you were laying down on the bed. Nothing was going to happen.

You rest your eyes, and think ahead of the stupid troll. The creep with a sultry voice. You didn’t wanna mind it. It was just a fake threat after all.

You woke up. You heard a thump within the walls. Probably the neighbor's cat is acting up again. With your foggy brain and eyelids, you travel to your hallway and press the light switch to check what was there. You couldn’t tell if there was something black in your eyes, but you presumed it was nothing. You finally ended up in the kitchen from your hazed walk, and glanced at what was ahead of you.

The kitchen was empty. No creepy dude, it was fake!

You walked and got a glass in your cupboards. Your shorts were slowly sliding up as you tried to stretch to get a cup in the back of your cutlery. Feeling your shirt also slowly lifting up as you grabbed the object. Your feet finally face the ground when you are done getting the glass, and you turn your back around. Incline to having it be filled with water.

“Boo.”

The glass dropped. Forget water. You shrieked in horror. It was a man covered in a mask, cloaked with a black hood. The mask was detailed with a look of horror, eyes piercing hollow black, and wrinkles to enhance the uncanniness.

“You’re even cuter in real life.” No. No. No.

It was the killer your chat was talking about. It was the mysterious man who sent you the donation. And it was the user who threatened you on call. It all added up. You could feel you chastise your brain for being so foolish, for being so damn stupid. For being so curious.

“I-Is that you?” Your voice shakes in fear. He responds by caressing your face, and pining you closer to the counter beneath the cupboards you were just rummaging into. You feel your back slowly leaning back into the furniture, as he goes closer to you.

“Uh huh, it’s me baby.” His pet names made your stomach churn.

“Are you happy to see me, hm? I think you should be. I mean, I saw you blushing just by the sound of my voice, sweets.” He cackles at the end of his sentence. He enjoyed this. He enjoyed the way you looked at him with those pretty eyes of yours, pleading for his mercy. It was better than he imagined.

“You’re- you’re the killer? You’re, you’re-“

“Ghostface. That’s right baby. Awh, don’t tell me you’re terrified? Earlier, you said you had a little crush on Michael. I’m exactly your type. Maybe a little more talkative, but you get the idea sweetheart!”

He was snarky, condescending and overall, fucking with you. You didn’t know what else to muster but a little placid gasp as he leaned into you. He was built entirely different from yours, toppling your body. His hold backed you into a corner, defenseless and armless. It was a recipe for the end of your life.

“Look at you. Trying so hard to look away from me-“ His sharp blade went to your throat. Forcing you to stare at his blank dark eyes. You still resisted. “Don’t be such a bitch. I gave a generous donation, didn't I? Let me tell you, it wasn’t easy killing all of the guys crushing on you and stealing their money.”

“The fuck! You freak-“

“Freak? Rich coming from you. Babe, I’ve seen your search results.” He chuckled harshly. Oh god.

“It’s filled with some of the sickest shit. You love a killer. You know it’s so, so, so bad to like a man like me?”

“And your kinks. Oh sweet girl, you’re just asking to be gutted. And not in a bloody way either.” Even if he was covered behind a whole costume, you can practically hear his maniac smile. You can hear the tone of voice being clouded with figments of lust, and you hated it. But you proved his point, you could feel yourself squeezing your thighs, for some sort of stimulation, friction or movement.

“Mhm, I know what you’re doing sweetie. So needy.” His words were going to kill you before he ever could. It made your heart thump and filled your belly with butterflies. The attention was getting to you. You had to start thinking fast, to defend yourself in some sort of way. But his body and twisted words held you back from doing so. Although, that unwashed pan in the sink may be the trick. With no thought, you swiftly grabbed the cooking instrument, and swung into his head.

“FUCK! You goddamn whore, you’re going to fucking get it!”

You ran. Ran as fast as you could like those final girls in the movies you watch. Ran towards your bedroom, hoping to escape by jumping out of a window. It wasn’t the greatest plan, but breaking your leg out of survival, seems to be so much better than being a news headline. As you hastily open the glass window, sliding it in a painful slow motion, you put your whole body to ensure you flee. Outside was waiting for you, and you could see yourself escape from the monster. Just as you were so close to getting out of the building, you felt the hem of your shirt being tugged.

You tumbled down, hitting the floor. He grabbed you away from freedom.

“That was close. Ha, cupcake, you gotta be the feistiest one yet,”

“Makes you all the more of a treat to me.”

He puts his boot onto your back, stepping on your laying body. He tied you up with scattered ropes and brandished you like a present. You could feel your lungs giving up as he put more pressure into your figure, and your eyes started to tear up out of pain. Whines could be heard out of your mouth and you forced curses to be thrown towards your intruder.

“I warned you, didn’t I bitch?” He took a fist full of your hair, making you have to kneel and look at him. Putting you in a position that was very revealing. Right in front of his crotch. It was embarrassing, and yet your body was heating up.

“Just get on with it. Kill me.” Your comment was then returned with laughter. As if you were the one that’s insane.

“No, no, no way sweets. I have so much more to do with you, y’know?” He lowered his body, titling his head as he was now in your eye range. With his movement mocking you, as if you were a little puppy. “I’m doing a favor for you, baby.” His hands traced onto your legs, dangerously reaching down into inner thighs.

“You wanted a sick man to fuck you, right? I’m going to do that. I’m going to make you scream, making up for all the times that I saw you touching yourself, thinking about a slasher like me fucking you. I’m going to make you cry, making up for all those men who didn’t pound you right.” His gloved hands were now placed upon your pussy. Rubbing you up and down on your clothed slit, eliciting sweet sounds from you. You cried out to him, and he responded by making his fingers go faster.

“I’m going to make you mine. The only fucking thing you’ll think about is me, a murderer.” His touch was fucking you stupid, drool slowly dripped out of your mouth. He took notice of that and giggles ensued from his mouth. You were being so obedient, in such little time.

“Good girl. Look at you! I’m just rubbing your cunt, and you’re whimpering like a bitch. Fuck, baby.” There he finally stopped teasing you, and swiftly plunged his fingers within your shorts. A yelp escaped out of your throat, and he laughed even more. Panting, your hand grabbed his wrist, hoping for him to stop going so rough. It was immediately shut down, by his arm pinning your palms down. Showing how much more power he had over you. Manhandling you like a little toy.

“Ha- Ghos- Ghost-“

“You can’t even form a sentence. Fucking slut.” In a second, he stopped moving. He took his fingers out of your insides and you whined loudly. No no no! You were so close!

“You don’t deserve to cum. Not fucking yet. You will when you’re done your part, sweets.” He stood up, and towered over you. His hands were now fidgeting with the zipper of his pants, rushing for his erection to breathe. His ache lasted for hours, even before he came to visit you. When he was calling with you, he was so fucking close to just whipping his cock out and fisting it up and down with the sound of your voice. His obsession with you was that bad. It made him even more insane, seeing you afar and in hearing you, your flesh drove him crazy. With your ass around, he couldn’t focus on writing reports of his own victims, since his attention was all to you. He hated it. He hated how much he needed to fuck you, or kill you, it didn’t matter either way, he just had to have you. To make up for all the times he was too distracted to kill or report on news.

His dick finally came out of his slacks and hooded cloak. You were a little entranced. It’s been fucking ages since you took one in your mouth, probably because of him killing all of your suitors, and you felt unprepared.

“Suck. And don’t even fucking think of putting your teeth onto me.” You obliged. With your hands out of the questions, you made sure your mouth was able to take it. Slowly, you teased upon the tip and quickly made your way down his length. And with that, he responded with grunts.

“Fuckk, god. You’re so fucking good at this cupcake.” His hands fondled the top of your head. Resulting into him tugging the strands of your hair.

“Your mouth is so tight. Expected from a bitch like you. I can’t wait to fucking gut your pussy.” He rasped out, and soon his hands had moved to his rhythm onto your skull. Forcing you to bob up and down his dick. Your throat was now filled to the brim, and you started choking. He could hear you struggle, you mouthing that you couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t care. He kept on going, and your oxygen was dying out.

But he finally stopped when he realized you were going to actually pass out. Controlling himself from throatfucking you to unconsciousness, mainly because he wanted to hear more of your whimpers, but he considered you lucky. “Breathe babe, breathe.”

Taking a fresh gasp of air, away from the penetrating taste, he held your hair to the back. This probably was the only time he was ‘kind’ to you. And then you quickly went back.

Thrust after thrust, he was coming close. It was noticeable as his hands were becoming more frantic. Craving for a release. All the while you were squirming your legs for some sort of stimulation. The wet pooling onto your panties was driving you insane. You needed to be filled up, bad.

Finally he came into your mouth. The tangy substance filling up the space. Little drops were slowly falling down but he quickly wiped it from your face, looking proud of his work.

“Swallow it for me babe.”

You obeyed.

“Atta girl.”

You got up. But he quickly deflected your action.

“Ah ah. I’m not done yet.”

You looked at him with a furrow. As horny as you were, you still hoped this would be done shortly. But he still continues. Fuck.

“What- I thought-“

“Mr. Ghostface, please don’t tell me you’re gonna fuck me!” He mocked. “C’mon, I like my toys stupid, but you can’t be that fucking dumb babe.”

He pushed you into the bed. You lay upon your sheets catching your breath, and your cute top had a little peak of your breasts. Your face was filled with slob, and your shorts were absolutely drenched. A beautiful sight indeed.

“Wait, before I ruin you, let me just-“

He whipped out a camera from his back pocket.

Click!

“That’s it baby, that’s it.” He constantly rubbed on your thigh as he did a whole photoshoot of your body. Your back arches little by little as he continues to stimulate your skin. And his hand slowly takes something out of the backsides of his pants. A knife. You yelped out of surprise.

“Oh baby, don’t worry. I’m just going to remove your clothes. I’m not going to hurt you,” He snickered. Putting the blade upon the fabrics and ripping it apart to give a pathway. But he intentionally cuts a little part of your skin as he forcefully parts your pants. Allowing him to brand you. “Yet.”

Finally, you were bare. Fully naked and vulnerable in front of this clothed intruder.

“You look even better up close, y’know? Fuck. I just knew you were perfect for me.” His dick was caressing your folds, making you scrunch your eyes in response to control your whimpers. You were so sensitive, that little tears started forming from your eyes. “Maybe I should just fucking take you away. Maybe I should just keep you in some basement, naked and shivering, huh? But knowing from you, you’d probably fucking like it.”

“You’re a whore, you know that?” All you could respond was cute little grunts to his stimulation and comments, “Mhm, but you're my whore.”

He inserts it with no warning. You gasp out of shock. His dick was really caressing the corners of your insides. And you could feel contraction from the penetration. It felt like it couldn’t fit at all.

“Sh-shit! So god damn tight! God-“ Ghostface was spasming from the way you tightened around him. Even with the slow pace, it felt agonizingly strained and painful. But you didn’t mind at all, because of how much it was stretching you so well. Filling up the need and wants in every right direction.

“So- so much!” You whined. You didn’t know if you were pleading him to take it slow, or go rapidly fast, but you definitely wanted him to keep going. To keep pushing you to the brim until you can’t think anymore, fucked with no words left to speak. To keep rubbing up and down till you start screaming, babbling with no thoughts to fill in your head. You needed this so bad.

“I know, I know- fuck, christ doll.” The masked man shuddered upon his words. He was as smitten as you were. The way your hole pulsed and tightened as he went further. The way your face is all flushed and cute as he rammed into you. The way your breasts move up and down as he makes you spasm and moan. Your cute little eyes, struggling to keep wide open from the hazy sex. He really couldn’t get enough of you. He really wanted to you fuck you up more and more.

“Ha- I knew you would fucking like this. You love being a sick freak taking in a murderer's cock. You love it, don’t you, don’t you baby?” His hands were caressing your skin as you whimpered. The latex stimulating you as your mind runs wild on the touches and senses you were feeling. At this rate, you were going to finish, and it couldn’t help when you were contracting more and more.

“Yeah that’s right. I could feel your fucking cunt clenching me, you gonna cum? Hm?”

You gave no response, too dazed to comprehend what he said. He slapped your face for you to snap out of your drunken phase.

“I said, whore. Are you gonna cum around my cock?”

“Y-yes!” He started going faster. Abusing your cunt even more and more. You started gasping for air with the amount of assault he was doing to you. Bringing you to the edge. “Mr. Ghostface I-Im going to-“

“Aww, it’s so much isn’t it? Well too fucking bad. You can only cum when I say so, so fucking take it. Or i’ll fucking slice your throat into two.” He maliciously spat.

“Or are you that desperate that you would rather have me fucking gut you, just so you can cum? I wouldn’t even be surprised.” Laughing ensued after he remarked how pathetic and dumb you look. You were all mindless, continuously just taking in and out like a toy. And the worst part, you enjoyed it, loved it and wanted more and more.

“I’ll be nice this time. Beg for me.”

“Huh?” You muttered, confused and not knowing what he just ordered.

“I said beg. Are you fucking stupid? Beg. Beg for you to fucking cum. I know how much you fucking need it.”

You swallowed your pride. It’s too late to do anything more to save your face. Look at the state you were in. Sweat, back arching and drool slowly forming from your mouth. Nothing is reputable with this. You looked like a whore. And he knew damn well he made you into one.

“Ple-please.?”

“Is that all you got? Beg. Beg fucking harder!” He slapped your cunt in order to elicit a reaction out of you.

“I- fuck- fuck! Please, pleasee! Please let me cum! Please, Mr. Ghostface! Please, I need it! I fucking need it! I need it so bad! I need you to fucking fill me! Just- let me- me cum!” You were babbling at this point. Saying all of this under his will.

“I need it so bad! I need it. I need you! I need you!” You reached for his mask. Showing how terribly desperate you wanted for some kind of release.

“Atta fucking girl.” He put his mask to the side. “Come here.”

He penetrated with his tongue inside your mouth. You whisper and moan, faltering around his body. Your arms were frenzied all over his shoulders. You were needy. And most of all, so fucking horny.

“You wanna cum? Yeah?”

“Uh huh!”

“Go ahead, sweets. Cum around my cock. I’m gonna fucking fill you up.” There it went, his pace going harder and harder. Louder and more frantic.

“Cum for me. Cum for me, pretty. Cum for your fucking killer.”

And you did. With a loud whine you came around everywhere. A load filling you up as you spasm with his dick still in you. Your body automatically faltered on the bed, tired and so fucking full. He pulled out, having your cunt leak out all the fluids. You were absolutely fucking gutted.

Click!

You heard a camera snap. You would’ve protested but your legs would have probably given up if you tried.

“I’m keeping that one baby. Displaying it on the top of my fridge.”

“Here.” As his last ‘gift’ to you, he marked your neck. A purple bruise, prominent and easily noticeable.

“Stream tomorrow, cupcake. And show my fucking mark on you proudly.”

He wanted to make sure he was definitely your favorite follower. Wanted to show everyone one of your fans that you’re his now. And it was completely obvious with how much he had made you into his.

Next time, he’ll do it live. And maybe, he’ll bring some other fans he knows of.

Maybe that son of a bitch, Michael would join in.

“I’m your biggest fan, sweets. Don’t forget that.” He said, leaving you in your bed, while he left your house.

And he believed that you already knew.

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Alastor - [DEVOTION…. Pt. 2]

xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxxx xxx

[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SLIGHT AGE GAP ] + [ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ] + [ BREEDING KINK ] + [ MENTIONS OF BLOOD & GORE ]

xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxxx xxx

Beautiful days weren't uncommon in New Orleans.

They frequently occurred -even more so during the late summer months in the swamped countryside- where you now found yourself traveling through alongside your husband.

Alastor had decided it was high time both of you visited your recently conjoined families. His mother constantly asked to see you again, calling twice a week like clockwork to check on her darling son and his ever-so-sweet wife, and you appreciated her sincere affection.

You missed visiting her in person, learning things from her, and observing how much adoration she had for Alastor..

In a sense, she'd raised you like her own daughter, taking the place of your mother, who'd passed before you'd even taken your first steps. Your father was adamant a 'fever' took her, but Alastor's mother always hinted at a force greater than unfortunate health having to do with it.

You'd never thought to ask what she meant, trusting her wise and kind words wholeheartedly since Alastor was your only friend, but curiosity did plague your thoughts from time to time.

Her passing was a tragedy you could barely remember….

However, it was in the past, your mother was gone with your childhood, and you were now in the present -married to a man you never wished to part from…

Even more so now that he'd revealed how truly devoted he was to you and you alone…

“….I feel much more than love for you, my dear. Devotion is a better term…obsession at times…”

Those words of his rang loud and clear in your head for days on end, making your heart flutter ten times harder than it usually did when he was near and coaxing a particular passion for making him happy out of you at every opportunity given.

Your infatuation had grown into undeterred loyalty and in your opinion he deserved every bit of it.

Alastor worked tirelessly to further his career. Reaping the benefits of such hard work through copious amounts of money and awards from various admirers.

He'd perfected so many things to reach that point, hiding his natural down home drawl with a perfect transatlantic accent -you found both charming but preferred the first. Although, you understood why he’d mastered the ladder accent, and never insisted upon him disregarding it.

It was what made his character, brought the masses running back for more each time he was on air, and what kind of wife would you be if you asked him to refute all the admiration for simple and selfish reasons?..

He wasn’t home often enough to have such conversations in the first place…

Alastor was no stranger to working late into the evening, writing script after script past midnight at the station, and only returning home when he was sure his manuscripts were crystal clear.

That’s what you were made to believe he was doing anyway.

Alastor made sure of that.

In your eyes he was perfect, hardworking, and utterly perfect…

Not the merciless, flesh hungry, murder that’d been stalking the streets of New Orleans for almost six consecutive months…

To your knowledge Alastor had no flaws, no deep, dark secrets you felt the need to uncover, and certainly not a man with a tainted sense of morality you couldn't fully trust.

He ensured your view of him remained spotless, devoid of bloodthirst or cruelty.

You were too innocent for it, too pure to know what he'd done and continued to do for the sake of self-satisfaction, but there is always a time for truths to come to light…

Nevertheless, Alastor strived to make sure that time never came…

So, when the city became on edge, being put under a curfew by law enforcement in hopes of slowing the occurrence of his murders, and the number of police patrols significantly increased, Alastor decided a nice…long…relaxing vacation to the countryside would be an excellent idea.

Nothing suspicious about the idea at all…

You were ecstatic about the trip, rushing to pack things for the both of you the very evening he mentioned it, and Alastor was genuinely pleased to see you so excited.

You were painfully unaware of his true motives…so willing to spend time with him and leave the fear-induced city behind…

Oh, how he loved it…you and your gentle, naive nature…

Truly, a warm-hearted belle safe and sound in his bloodstained grasp.

He almost felt guilty, looking at you now, taking your first bare footsteps into the dewy summer grass surrounding his mother's home. Your eyes lit up like the high noon sun shining down on you both, soft lips pulled into a satisfied smile as you reacquainted yourself with fresh summer air, "God, I missed this.." you whispered to yourself as the comforting wind blew through your hair.

Alastor laughed softly, smile ever present as you did a twirl in the grass before looking at him over your shoulder, "Well, aren't you gonna join me, Al? Or am I gonna have to get a hug from your mother first?"

He narrowed his eyes, smile softening at the mention of her, "First? My dear, are you askin' for a race?"

You grinned, giggling as you shrugged playfully while walking backward towards the pathway leading to his mother's home, "Only if you're agreeing to one, honey.." you respond cheekily.

Your husband could never resist a challenge.

Ever.

You’d realized that very early on in your time with him, using it to your advantage more often than he realized.

Getting your way with Alastor was a special skill unique to you and not a soul else…

A smirk tugged at your lips as Alastor pushed off from leaning against the car, rolling his sleeves up as he strode towards you, "Daring, little thing, aren't you?" He teased, having to yell as you spun on your heel and took off without warning.

You let out a laugh, hearing him give chase, only a meter behind you in less than three seconds, and his subtle chiding at your attempt at cheating urging you to beat him.

"Looks like I'll beat you, dearest!" He boasts, drawing nearer to you within seconds, but hesitating to pass you by as he took in the sight of your white cotton dress riding higher up your thighs as you ran.

A delectable view for him in more ways than one…

Alastor couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen such a carefree and angelic sight. Nor, did he want to when you were right in front of him.

You scoffed at his teasing, oblivious to Alastor’s longing stare as you hiked up the front hem of your dress to hop over a fallen tree branch, but when you landed, he was at your side -a smirk already sneaking its way onto his face as you shot him a surprised glance.

When had he gotten so fast?…

You weren't sure, but Alastor had always been more physically fit than most, so you merely tried to keep up with him as the end of the path approached.

He beat you by five feet at least, but you were in too much of a giggle fit to notice. "You cheated!" You chirped, faking a pout as he leaned against one of the dark timber poles that upheld the wrap-around porch. "I was only beating you at your own game, ma chère… fair is fair." Alastor flashed you a grin, pushing his glasses to rest on top of his head before raising a hand to swipe the specks of dust that'd landed on his cheek during your short race.

You smiled at the rare, docile, boyish action. Alastor was never one to altogether drop his guard, so when moments like this occurred, you'd relish in it for as long as possible.

"Here, let me…" you spoke softly, still a little breathless after running but eager to help your husband. Alastor dropped his hand from his face, leaning down to make your reach for him less strenuous, and you smiled at the tiny habit.

He'd always considered your height difference, and your tummy fluttered at each implication of it.

Using the back of your dress sleeve, you carefully wiped at his cheek as he stared at you, allowing you to gingerly guide his face from side to side with your small hand cupping his jaw. "There, much better, monsieur.." you compliment him with a flirtatious drawl, admiring his dust free skin in the sunlight as a few strands of his wavy brown hair shifts over his eyes from the wind.

Alastor returns your admiration, gaze lowering to your lips when you speak and slowly rising again as you place the round glasses back on his face. "Thank you,'ma chère," he sighs gratefully, natural southern drawl shining through as he speaks, finding himself out of breathless as you stare up at him lovingly.

In all his life Alastor could count on one hand how many times an inkling of ‘love’ had trickled its way into his heart. You seemed to be a factor in at least half of those memories.

He deemed that fact more than enough reason to kill for you if fate ever dictated harm your way…

What man wouldn't spill a bit of blood for a woman that looks at him the way you are looking at him now..?

A lesser one, surely.

Alastor considered himself far from the definition of a lesser man..

“It’s my pleasure,” you mutter in response, shifting to step around him and knock on the door, but Alastor stops you by wrapping an arm around your waist, bringing you in close to gently kiss your nose, then your lips, and you return the intimate gesture on instinct.

He hums deep within his chest as your soft lips melt into his, grip tightening on your waist as he unconsciously glides his tongue along yours, and you successfully stifle a moan at the unexpected intrusion.

Was that….blood you tasted on him?…

You weren't given much time to register the iron residue mixed with the hints of black coffee you'd made for him that morning since the sound of a door swinging open startled you half to death before any connection could be made.

"Oh, well, would you get a look at you two!" Angelique Hartifelt beamed as she registered who was on her doorstep. Alastor immediately let you go, smiling wide as his mother tugged him into an airtight hug, and you blushed at the heartwarming sight.

"Hello, mother," Alastor mumbled into her dark curls, swaying her in his arms as she took him in, "My, you've grown baby…real successful too, I hear.." She laughed as he nodded, both clearly happy to see each other after so long, but she eventually pulled away from Alastor to turn her attention to you.

"Sweet girl… c'mere! God, you're just as pretty as a magnolia in May!" You had no time to reply as she hugged you tight, kissing your cheek while you giggled and greeted her politely, "You're too kind, Mrs. Hartifelt … It's nice to see you again! I've missed you dearly!"

She stepped back, grinning as wide as her son as she spun you around, "Don't be silly, honey! Married life becomes you! I missed seeing your lovely self, too. Maybe if Al stopped working so much, you'd have more time to stop by.." She gave him a playful glare, to which he flashed an apologetic smile.

"I'll try to remember that, Mother.." he tipped his head in understanding, and she swatted his arm lightly. "Oh, you know I'm only poking fun, baby. Come on inside, I wanna hear about the two of you…"

She paused, ushering you in the door first with a knowing smile, "…and if I have any grandchildren on the way." Her jest made you turn bright red, but her lighthearted laughter that followed eased your nerves.

However, Alastor's face fell for a moment as she said it, the two of you sharing a strange stare as Angelique closed the behind her and whisked past you both to lead the way into the kitchen.

It was only for a split second, but you could've sworn Alastor looked…

Hopeful…?

Or rather, genuinely affected by the mention of having a child with you…

The complex expression vanished from his face just as quickly as it appeared, his gaze shifting from you to his mother as she set a pitcher of sweet tea and a plate full of cookies out, and you instantly focused on the dish of sweets as the sugary smell invaded your nose.

You were here to enjoy her company, get away from the world and its burdensome worries, and overthinking Alastor’s every reaction wouldn’t be a good start to that….

Besides, her sweets were always your favorite; she'd shown you how to bake, and you attributed most of your cooking skills to her teaching. Alastor had also picked up a great deal of culinary tricks from her, and it became another hobby you two bonded over during childhood.

"Those look amazing, Mrs. Hartifelt," you flashed her a smile, humming as you pretended to swoon over them, and she laughed at your slight dramatics. "I suspected you'd stop by, so I made your favorite, honey. Come on, sit!"

"Don't mind if I do," you chirped and sat next to her at the modestly round dining table; she poured you both a glass of sweet tea before looking over at Alastor expectantly. "That means you too," she gently scolded his standoff-ish behavior, watching as he took a seat on her unoccupied side and patting his cheek in gratitude as he did.

Alastor leaned into her touch, mumbling an apology for not accompanying her sooner, "I got lost in thought, is all…" he clarified in a soft chuckle, and she nodded in understanding.

"Mmm, really, what about?"

His gaze shifted to you again, and your body momentarily froze as he stared while answering his mother, "How much I love you…that’s all.”

Whether he meant to direct the phrase towards you or his mother was unclear, but your chest tightened, and your head filled with fog nonetheless.

How could he still manage to make you so unsteady within the simplest efforts and gestures?…

Alastor held your gaze for a minute longer, forgetting where he was presently, but his self induced trance vanished as his mother spoke again.

"I see you still haven’t lost your charm to the big city. That radio show must keep you on your toes, then.."

He nodded, laughing gently at his mother's teasing, "I wouldn’t dream of it, and my audience expects the best, so I must deliver."

She nods, humming as her chocolate eyes drift towards you, "And how is my lovely son treating you, sweetheart? Well, I presume?"

You could hear the hint of curiosity in her tone, light but underlying seriousness in her question. It was no secret to her that Alastor had…certain tendencies, but those were reserved for people who deserved it, and you'd never been deemed deserving.

She hoped it remained that way…

To her inner relief, you answered her with the broadest smile and happiest tone, "Oh, of course! I couldn't have asked for a better husband! You raised him well..a true gentleman, Mrs. Hartifelt."

Alastor smirked, reveling in your praise, unbothered by his mother eyeing him carefully before she gave you a pleasant response, "I'm glad to hear that. You're still sweet on him too…just like when you were little."

You blushed, taking a ginger bite of one cookie while nodding, "Mhm.."

Why you became nervous when your childlike crush on Alastor was brought up was a mystery, but you couldn't help it since both of your families saw your subtle pining for him day in and day out.

"Speaking of 'little'…" his mother sat straight, arms crossed over her chest as she glanced at the both of you, "When are you two gonna give me a grandbaby to look after. I'm not getting any younger, Al.."

That look crossed his face again, but his smile remained.

You, however, nearly choked on your sweet treat, but luckily managed not to make an utter fool of yourself. A minor cough and a quick sip from your glass eased your mishap.

Angelique patted your back gently, laughing softly at your reaction, "Honey, I'm only kidding… there's no rush." Her reassurance was genuine, but unbeknownst to her, Alastor had breached the subject already.

Albeit in the heat of a very intense and lust-driven moment.

"Ma chère," Alastor rose from his chair, slight concern on his face as he came to kneel by your chair, "…are you alright?"

You nodded slowly, smiling softly at him before huffing out, "M' fine…no need to worry.." he nodded in return, standing to his feet to address her implications.

"We'll see what the future holds, Mother, but as of now, are we welcome to your hospitality for a few days?"

He knew she'd say 'yes' but made it a habit to ask.

Alastor maintained impeccable manners, just as she'd taught him to have, and it brought a proud glint to Angelique’s eyes.

"Now, Al, why would I ever say no to that. You two stay as long as you want!"

You tipped your head in gratitude, "Thank you, Mrs. Hartifelt.."

She scoffed, placing her hand over one of yours before leaning in close as if to tell you a secret Alastor shouldn’t hear.

"Even after all these years and being married to my boy, you're still so polite, Y/n. The world won't burn to a crisp if you call me 'mother' sweetheart."

She kissed your temple, and your heart melted at the tender gesture, "We are family, after all."

That was true…

"I suppose you're right, Mrs- I mean mother." You tripped over the words, so used to being formal but enjoying the new arrangement.

It felt natural enough.

"Look how easy that was!" Angelique patted your hand assuredly, stood from her seat, and began to clear the table.

There was no doubt in your mind that Alastor got his charm from her….

Your revelation was cut short as she absentmindedly spoke to you again, "Pay your father a visit before you settle in. I'm sure he'd like to see you…he comes by often asking about you two a lot these days.."

You stiffened at the mention of your father, recalling the last time you'd seen him.

Exactly a year ago.

The day you married Alastor…

After that, you'd barely spoken to him, not because you wished for distance but because he'd established it.

Your father may have agreed to your marriage with Alastor, but he only partially warmed up to your husband. He'd looked upon him with a hidden distaste from the very beginning of your friendship.

"Something's off about that boy…" he’d say.

Then proceed to warn you of a danger that never existed in your opinion. "You be careful around him…real careful.."

When he realized your attraction to Alastor his nagging only worsened, "He's a charmer…those are never good for anything. You remember that."

For years, his assumptions of Alastor irked you to no end; it perplexed you why he even married you off to him, but whenever you'd search for answers, he'd give the same vague answer.

"That boy isn't what he seems. Never has been and never will be.."

Frustrating as he was, you could never bring yourself to hate him for it, but the thought of having to endure his morbid company wasn’t comforting at all.

Alastor recognized the distress in your gentle features, your bright eyes narrowing at the tabletop, and your hands wringing around each other nervously.

All because of him.

Mr. L/n...

The one man who seemed to get a clue as to who and what Alastor was without anything other than a so-called ‘gut feeling’.

Alastor had tried for years to mask his true nature from him, but your father saw right through him at every encounter.

He had been and still was Alastor’s worst agitation…

Such a bothersome fool…

Your husband averted his oncoming glare to the nearest wall before wiping the disdain off his face, and reaching a hand out to caress your back. You relaxed under his firm touch, looking up to him as his thumb rubbed soothing circles into your spine, "It'll only be a short visit, my dear. We'll have the whole weekend after that…"

His smile eased your fretting, leading you to nod and smile back. "Alright… y-you'll come with me, yes?"

Absolutely not-

Alastor inwardly hushed his shadow demon, tipping his head in warning to the spectrum and forcing it to hold its tongue before it overrode his consciousness.

His smile widened, the hand on your back sliding up to cup your cheek, "Of course, mon chere. I wouldn't dream of letting you go alone.."

We should-

His shadow attempted to cut in again, but Alastor withheld its advance with a simple command.

Hush up. Now…

Fortunately, it ceased all communication, and his focus on you went unhindered.

You stood from your chair, rising on your tiptoes to peck his lips with your own, whispering against them before you pulled away.

"Thank you… Sometimes I dont know what I'd do without you…"

Alastor cursed the sharp pang that penetrated his heart as you said those words, an eerie sense of Deja vu hitting him in waves, but the uneasy feeling never showed on his face -not until you thanked his mother one last time before flurrying upstairs to freshen up.

Angelique felt her son’s mood shift, intuition leading her to ask him what was on his mind, "Something wrong?.."she mumbles calmly without ceasing in her task of cleaning.

Alastor remained silent for a long moment, watching as his mother moved on to pulling out ingredients to cook for dinner, and when she turned to face him entirely, he found the sense to speak.

"It's gettin' worse…" he confessed through a tight-lipped smile, leaning back against a wall to keep his composure, and she needed no other clues to figure out his cause for distress.

"The killing' or the magic?" She inquires, back to him, and but her voice laced with evident care.

"Both. It's getting to me..bad…more frequently.." he confesses.

Angelique hums in understanding, "Have you been hunting at all these past few weeks?.."

Alastor took his glasses off, breath coming out strained as his eyes shifted from their usual whiskey color to a redder hue.

"No. Not since…" he falters, gritting his teeth as his unruly spectral companion cut into his train of thought.

Not since you fucked her-

"I said shut the hell up…" Alastor seethed out loud, eyes screwing shut as his shadow danced onto the wall, yet his mother remained unphased by the sudden outburst.

She merely peered at the taunting shadow, causing it to cower back in her son's tall frame, "Go hunting while you're here. That'll take the edge off, but get that spirit in check before you do, or it won't end well. You hear me?"

Alastor nodded, rolling his neck to alleviate the tension in his body before recapturing his shadow and flashing his mother an understanding smile.

Her advice was final, a direct warning to him, and it garnered a welcomed sense of control over his frazzled behavior.

His smile lost its crazed edge, drawing into a polite smirk as he peered at her expectantly.

"Do you happen to have my old hunting gear lying around?.."

She turned towards the stove, not affected by his sudden personality switch by any means, and simply motioned a hand upstairs before answering him, "In your father's old study. Right where you left it, behind the bookshelf…."

Alastor perked up, grinning wide as the memory of his last hunting spree crossed his mind, "Merci, mother." He thanked her, walking over to kiss her cheek before exiting the homely kitchen while humming a new tune as he strode up the steps with newfound confidence.

Tonight, he'd look for prey…

How he'd satiate his shadow's pesky intrusions was a matter he'd have to solve later.

Although, if the way it constantly became hyperactive at the mere mention or sight of you had anything to do with it Alastor was certain you were the solution to the problem.

+++++

The visit with your father went as you expected it to go.

He welcomed you with open arms and a tender smile, but when he saw Alastor climbing the marble steps of your family’s estate, his cordial behavior waned.

“I see you’ve brought him along…” he made no effort to hide the distaste in his tone as Alastor reached your side.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again as well Mr, L/n…” Your husband remained polite as always, masking his hatred for the man with a practiced facade of kindness.

Alastor became more affectionate towards you in his presence, going so far as to kiss the top of your head and wrapping an arm around your waist protectively, making every effort to keep you close throughout the tense reunion.

Your father clearly did not take a liking to his indirect aggravations it at all…

Yet, he said nothing on the matter, cutting your visit short with the tired excuse of having an 'important engagement' he needed to attend to.

So, in under an hour of resisting your childhood home, you found yourself walking back through the secret trail you and Alastor had paved years ago to commute across, and with each step, you felt more at ease.

You weren't quick to anger, but your father's jabs towards Alastor never ceased to ruin your mood. Thankfully, your husband seemed more eclectic than when you'd arrived in the countryside, and that, in turn, brightened your previously somber spirits.

Alastor held your arm under his as the two of you trekked along the path, going over small hills, thin creeks, and finally through a line of forestry bordering his mother's home.

The sun was beginning to set as you entered the forest end of your journey. The warm summer wind becoming a bit chilly as it whipped through the large willow and evergreen trees. Alastor kept you close, better acquainted with the woods than you were, but not because he'd memorized the path from childhood.

No, his memory of it stemmed from the many bloody escapades he'd enjoyed there and intended to continue sooner rather than later…

All for a rush, for the flesh, for the undisputed thrill.

Even now he couldn't stop grinning, thinking about it, failing to dampen his excitement as he led you both through the darkening woods.

You glanced up at him, happy to see Alastor so content despite your awful encounter with your father, "I apologize for him… he's…" you paused, trying to find the right words to describe your father's behavior, but he beat you to it with a gentle laugh.

"A cynical old man who believes that I'm no good for you?"

His voice held an edge, but you took the comment as playful heat and not as a harmful insult the way Alastor intended it to sound.

You couldn’t blame him for feeling spiteful about the whole ordeal…

He had every right to be unnerved…

A tender sigh slipped past your lips, and you nodded in agreement as he glanced down at you, "A spot-on depiction…not a pretty one either.." Alastor chuckled, shaking his head dismissively as he reassured you he took no offense to your father's dislike of him.

Though it was somewhat justified.

"Don't you worry yourself about him, my dear. I have you, and he can do nothing about it…"

Not a fucking thing…

You peered up at Alastor, noting the unwavering smile on his face as he spoke, but the glare in his eyes said he felt anything but indifference about the situation.

That worried you…scared you a little…

"Al…" you whispered, halting in your tracks and causing him to do the same. Your brows furrowed as he lowered his head, his breaths becoming heavy as his hold on your arm grew harder, but not enough to harm you.

His smile only grew as you muttered again, "Alastor, …look at me…" your words as tender as ever as you turned on your heel to face him head-on.

Alastor's eyes twitched as you came close, flashing red when you cupped his face with both hands and dipped your head to gain proper eye contact with him.

Concern was written all over you face…

You tried to decipher Alastor’s expression, ignoring the chill running down your spine as his gaze hardened while the air around you grew stiffer by the second.

Was he angry?

It felt as if he were but something in his unwavering stare told you this emotion surpassed that, and you couldn't deny how intensely it radiated off him as he slowly tilted his head at you.

Possessiveness.

Pure, unbridled need for dominance.

Whether it was over you or his state of mind remained unclear as he took a step forward. You made no effort to back away, letting Alastor tower over you, and not once breaking eye contact with him.

“Alastor…you can tell me-“

The comforting words died on your tongue when he jerked you into his chest, large hands finding your wrists as the heated kiss he initiated silenced the surprised yelp that left your lips as they melded with his.

You eyes drifted shut as he deepened the exchange, gradually relenting your body control over to him as he guided your arms to wrap around his neck. Alastor shifted his hold on your wrists to trace down your sides, the ghost like touch sending a shock through you immediately.

He smiled at your skittish reaction, oddly calmer than he was a moment before as he dared to pull similar responses from you. His skilled tongue delved into you mouth, inviting yours to play along while he leveraged his larger frame against your smaller one. You obediently stepped back as he pressed forward, subtly flinching as your backside hit the bark of the nearest tree, yet the scratch of wood on your covered skin failed to bother you as the kiss became feverish.

Desperate…

Alastor was desperate for something…

For what you weren’t certain, unable to think straight when he had you pinned against a decaying evergreen, stealing your breath away with ease, only pulling away from your lips to catch his own breath.

You quietly panted for air as well, blood rushing to your head from the sound of his have breathing mixing with the distant chirps of crickets harmonizing alongside buzzing cicadas.

The wind seemed to lose its chill as it passed between the nonexistent space separating you both.

Alastor held you still in that moment, one hand at the back of your neck to keep your head raised towards his, and the other resting under your chin. His thumb traced over your now spit slick lips, brown eyes following the slight tremble in them as you continued to pant for air.

Oh, how he adored your eagerness to please him. Always so desperate for more of him and never quite aware of your own greediness for his undivided affection.

“What is there for me to tell you, ma chère…?” The words thundered in his chest, almost a low hum in the midst of the surrounding wilderness, but you heard him clear enough.

“How you truly feel….whats behind that smile you fight so hard to maintain.” You gulp down the anxiety trying to creep its way into your tone, inhaling sharply as he pushed a knee between your thighs, and your train of thought came to a halt feeling him put pressure on your thinly covered cunt.

You knew the gesture was a from of distraction on his part, an attempt to avert your attention from the uneasy shift in his mood, and though you wanted to push him back and demand he take your concerns seriously…

The building heat in your core advised otherwise, overriding your urge to coax an explanation from Alastor with the need to be filled by him instead, and the growing amount of stars in your eyes as he continued to toy with your body made it all the more obvious to him.

“I assure you I’m quite alright, darling“ Alastor remained true to his previous claim, smiling softly as your eyes lidded over while your hips tentatively began to rock over his thigh at a sluggish pace, and your hands unraveling from his neck to trail down his chest. The linen fabric of his shirt cooled your burning fingertips, keeping your focus clear enough for another hushed whisper to leave your lips, “Tellin’ me not lie to you but then turning around and doing it yourself…”

You paused, holding his gaze as your tongue darted out to lick at his thumb teasingly, “How is that fair, Alastor, hm?…” your voice remains quiet, the taste of his skin lingering on the tip of your tongue as the questions hangs in the air around you, and it seems to hit a nerve in him.

A flash of red illuminates his irises, smile stretching wide across his face at your seductive actions and reprimanding remarks, “Fair? Is that what you want from me, mon chere? A fair bit of truth?”

His shadow itched to enlarge, wanting nothing more than to show itself to you, and intake the delirious reaction you’d surely have to seeing its monstrous form.

Although, Alastor kept it at bay, settling with trailing the hand on your neck to tangle through your hair, tugging it just rough enough to earn a soft gasp from you, and that action alone hard your inside twisting with anticipation.

You knew he’d never harm you, never lift a finger to imply harsh treatment, but the thrill of finally experiencing a hidden side of your husbands persona had your heart racing and your cunt throbbing.

“Yes…” you whimper compliantly, hands fisting the collar of his dress shirt to tug him closer, and Alastor growled at the aggressive action.

“Careful what you ask for, sweet girl…” he warns you through gritted teeth, tempted to kiss you again as an airy giggle leaps from your mouth, “And what if I refuse to be?”

Fuck, I need her…we need her…

His shadow twitched, writhing in the waning light of the sun at your taunting, and embodying every ounce of excitement the man before you struggled to contain as the heat of your cunt gliding over his thigh persisted with every gentle buck of your hips against him.

Alastor felt his blood run hot as you pried at his self control, the corner of your lips pulling up into a knowing smile as he stared at you hungrily, and not a single drop of apprehension present in your gaze as he lowered his head to whisper in your ear.

“Then I suppose I’m left with no other choice than to remind you what happens to curious little cats, my dear…”

xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxxx xxx

Idk if I hate or love this chapter…like I’m so used to writing smut that writing angst or fluff feels so dreadful to me. Plus, you guys liked the first part so much I didn’t want to fuck this up…I promise the next part is pure smut and gore lol. This was essentially a filler part (I’m sorry)… ❤️ also did you guys catch the Princess and the Frog reference I threw in?!? If you did then I freakin adore you hehehe ❤️

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

I’d cry, scream, fucking beg for this man…it’s fucking ridiculous how much I love him tbhhhh ❤️ credit to creator

[almightygremlinblob]

In Every Life (AMAB Ver.)

In which Sukuna falls in love with the Reader without realizing it.

Word Count: 5, 466 of slow burn. ⚠️Content Warnings⚠️: True Form Sukuna, Heian Era, Sukuna fluff, soft Sukuna, mentioned cannibalism, slight angst, Sunshine AMAB!Reader but gender neutral expressions used, Reader is not a sorcerer and is implied to be the only non-sorcerer of her village. THIS IS NOT BETA'D and I am very tired while editing this. SO! If you spot any mistakes, esp. around the parts lmao, since I made two ver. of this, pls tell me! Minors and ppl not okay with anything sexual pls DNI and have a nice day 👍🏽 AFAB!Reader (with gender-neutral pronouns) here

⚠️Further Content Warnings⚠️: Virgin!Sukuna, Sub!Sukuna, Reader and Sukuna both switch from gentle doms to subs, size difference, soft & fluffy sex, very messy sex, Reader makes out with the tummy mouth, anal, cock worship, Reader makes out with tummy mouth, lots of fluids in general, lots of mouths, consensual blood drinking, this is getting worse the more I write lmao.

You were happy you managed to catch the attention of the King of Curses.

Sure, you didn't exactly know how you did it. You weren't strong, or exceptionally beautiful like the sons and daughters offered to him. You weren't even that smart!

You were clueless, as a matter of fact!

So clueless that, nearly two weeks ago, you gave the strange looking man with four arms a warm meal and a place to stay for the night - since it didn't seem like the storm would let up any time soon. He was pretty much shunned by the rest of the village upon his arrival…probably due to the overwhelming energy that sent people into fight or flight…but he was just born different!

Probably.

"What's your name, Mister?"

"…"

You quickly learned that he didn't speak much, and he does not like to be looked at. Only watching as you go about your day - trying your best to navigate through the judgement and, frankly, abuse of the other villagers; ever as judgemental about you as they were likely to talk down on you, spread rumors and try to take advantage of your endless kindness. Not that it worked, though - and for that, everyone pretty much hated you. Despite his silence, your visitor was the only one that seemed to regard you without any ounce of hatred.

Then, one day…

"Why do you entertain them?"

"Ah!" You visibly jumped at that moment - up until now you were certain he couldn't speak. His voice was lovely baritone, but held a quiet authority - much like him…and a very clear evil but you wouldn't dwell too much on that. "M-me? Oh…of course, me…"

"U-um…I'm not entirely sure, actually. I don't like them, b-but…" Those sharp, piercing eyes are distant, scanning the forest as you tried to think of a reason. "I-I guess they're my neighbors. Friends? No. But it wouldn't be right to just outright ignore them."

"Hmph, of course…" He scoffs, and rolls his eyes. "You people and your morals…"

"Do you not have friends?"

"No."

"Oh…" Your shoulders slump slightly. "Then, consider me your first friend!"

"No."

"Oh…"

When you visibly deflate, he laughs lightly, shaking his head as if he's heard something utterly ridiculous. "Why does that bother you? You hardly know me. I could be a mass murderer for all you know."

"Because you…you're…" You think for a while, before finding the right words. "One of the most unique people I've ever had the blessing of meeting."

His eyes finally land on you. "Blessing, huh?"

------

Eventually, the villagers turned violent towards you and your guest, but you did your best to keep him safe - urging him to leave, quickly. It was that day, when you were nearly beaten to death, that you learned the strange man's name.

"Die, you peasant!" There was something in the way these villagers attacked. A strange energy that made it hurt all the more. You were bloodied, bruised and beaten to the point you couldn't even find the strength to scream. A blade was pointed to your throat. "Any last words?"

Despite yourself, you manage to spit at him.

"I didn't think you had it in you." That familiar low voice, low and uninterested, sounds from behind you both. Then, before your very eyes, everyone was somehow cut to pieces. No screams, or cries…just the sounds of flesh and bone being cut apart. You were probably hallucinating...

You see your guest walk beside you - the gore, guts and limbs not affecting him in the slightest.

"Ah, you're okay…" His eyes land on you again. "B-be careful…t-there's an invisible…invisible something that's cutting people up…"

He scoffs. "And if I told you that was me?"

"What."

"Tsk." He promptly grabs you and, without you even realizing, your wounds begin healing, closing up, and suddenly you're more aware than you were a while ago. Then, with the flick of his wrist, the bodies get further chopped apart. The gears in your head start to turn and your eyes widen. "O-oh…"

"Go on, then. Go ahead." He grabs your face, forcing you to look at the disembodied people and the growing river of blood. "Run."

"No. No…" Your breathing steadies, and you relax into his hold. He must sense it with the way his whole body tenses for a moment. "Not from you."

In the silence, you can practically hear him thinking as he gets up. And when he made no move, you realized he was waiting for you. So you got up too, wordlessly, and began to follow him. After a while of silence, he graces you with his voice again - quiet, almost…soft.

"My name is irrelevant…but people call me Sukuna Ryomen, the King of Curses."

------

And that was the start of your new life, as a servant of the King of Curses.

It…wasn't so bad! Sure, you could be killed any day, like a few of the other servants and many of the courtesans, but you also didn't do much! And, best of all, no more of those abusive neighbors! Your days were mainly spent helping the head servant - the attractive one with white hair and a pink splotch - do things for the king, for only up to four hours. Four hours! Then you'd spend the rest of the day doing whatever!

This was not one of those days, however.

Today, you were cleaning the Lord's study, in his chambers, along with the attractive head servant. There were...a strangely high number of Dokudami paintings...

"The Lord seems to have an obsession with this herb. Does he like it?"

"That's an interesting observation. Though you're mistaken. It's more the symbolism of this plant."

"And…that would be?"

"Its flowers are delicate, pure. The plant itself is medicinal against many illnesses - it's endlessly helpful. Kind. But it grows everywhere, even in the places not many grow. A surprising resilience despite it's 'delicate' nature." The head servant explains, and you can hear the tinge of amusement in their voice. "Remind you of anyone?"

"Uh…no? No one comes to mind…"

They simply snort at that.

------

The first time you were called to his chambers, you thought you were going to die. Actually, everyone thought you were going to die. They were all giddy at the thought. You didn't expect to just sit there in silence while he practiced his calligraphy.

"I can hear you thinking. Speak."

You fidget around a little, before getting the words out. "I've always been meaning to ask…why…why me, my Lord?"

He clicks his tongue. "You dare question my choices?"

"N-no! Only…I'm curious."

Sukuna is silent for a while, hand perfectly still as he thinks, before eventually speaking.

"You calm me." He sighs as his brush continues to move. "Somehow, every time, you calm me."

------

The courtesans could see you from outside, and you could practically feel them glaring daggers at you - endlessly furious and envious that you could be that close to the Lord.

"My Lord, you…never seem to show interest in your courtesans. Have they, I mean…" You weren't sure how to word it without coming off as too brash.

"Of course they try to bed me. They always do. Don't even try to hide that they're doing it to gain a semblance of power in my estate. The last two were just…" He waves his hand dismissively, tone making it abundantly clear he wasn't happy with the memory. "Had her head cut off and the second had his limbs strewn on the floor."

You feel his gaze on you, scowl evident in even his voice. "Why do you ask me about this?"

"It's just…you have so many, I thought, well..."

"Tsk. They only want something from me, and they think they can take it freely. From me. Me!"

"Surely not ALL of them…" You fidget a little. "Why would you keep them around if that was? There's…there's so many…"

You can practically hear his smirk. "Because their organs taste GREAT sautéed."

"A-ah…"

He snorts, seeing your discomfort. "Are you afraid of becoming like them?"

"I…hm…" You look up in thought. "Perhaps…"

He lets out a soft laugh. "Then you truly are a fool."

"But…I think, it would be a good sacrifice." You finish the last area, as he goes awfully quiet. "Like an offering to a god. I think…I think I wouldn't mind that."

His presence is more than clear behind you, strong and foreboding. "Do you mean it?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"Liar. Everyone says that…" He scoffs. "…but, nobody means it. If given the chance…"

You hear a sound, sharp and strong, much like a blade. A pain blooms from your wrist, and you realize you're bleeding lightly - only a few drops of blood at a time. "They all run."

"No. I wish to stay by your side, my Lord. I have nowhere I'd rather be." When you relax and make no move to run, a big and warm hand engulfs yours.

"You…weren't lying." You feel lips against the wound on your outer wrist, and the swipe of a tongue against it before the wound starts to close. "You fool…"

------

Many in the estate didn't like you, jealous of how close you were to the Lord - but it wasn't everyone. Now, it was everyone. Rumors fueling jealousy and malice for the very obvious favoritism.

Taking little nibbles, you didn't want to take more than your share.

The food was beyond AMAZING. However, Sukuna simply scowls as you shyly keep your head bowed and you must feel his gaze harden by the way you flinch under it.

"I apologize. I just…don't want to take more than my share…"

"Do you mean to insult me? This entire meal is yours." He scoffs, grabbing your bowl. He grabs one of the sushi rolls and puts it against your mouth, which is still closed due to your surprise. "Eat. I won't accept this…whatever it is you're doing."

"O-oh, I-…thank you, my Lord." You open your mouth and allow him to feed you. Light blush forming from how good the food is. Yes, that was definitely why. "My compliments to the chef. This is beyond delicious, my Lord…"

And it was true, the sushi, the miso soup, selection of meats, everything tasted DIVINE.

"Compliments taken."

WAIT-

You nearly choke on your food. "I-I apologize…my Lord. I, you…for me???"

"Use your words."

"I mean, ah…" You shake your head, trying to recover from your mind going into overdrive. "You…made this for me?"

"Yes." He says it so plainly.

"What…what for?"

He doesn't answer and, for once, looks unsure. "I…I don't know."

------

When you came out of his chambers unscathed the second time, everyone - except for Lord Sukuna himself and his servant - went into a frenzy. The servants were appalled, the courtesans were fuming, and you made sure to steer clear of everyone who now seemed to loathe you. And, soon enough, all your duties were either with the head servant, with Lord Sukuna, or by yourself. Still, you didn't feel safe in the estate anymore.

Then, one night, the head servant came to your quarters, stating that "Lord Sukuna has requested I take you to his chambers."

If you weren't going to die physically, you would die of embarrassment.

Still, you followed the white haired servant to his chambers, entire form trembling as you nearly stumbled over yourself. Sukuna glances you once over, and can't help the snort that escapes his lips. You looked like a newly born fawn with how shaky your legs were.

"My sincerest apologies. I just…nervous…"

"That much is clear. Sit." Something is off and you can tell he's tense. "This probably isn't going to go how you're expecting."

You do as he says, sitting seiza in front of him. Something sharp is pointed to your throat, right where the artery is. Your eyes go wide, but after a little bit, you allow your entire body to relax. If you should die by anyone's hand, it would be his.

"Look at me." He commands and you look up, seeing him holding a spear of sorts. For the first time, you see him - truly see him. His form beautiful, terrifying and divine all at once. Your eyes and body must show your adoration, because he looks away - as if uncomfortable.

He shuts his eyes, and the spear is repeatedly pushed against your neck, as if trying. However, it never follows through. This was so easy for him, and yet…

"My Lord, if I should die today, it would be the greatest honor for it to be by your hand." Your body relaxes, eyes close and you lean into the blade of the spear. Sukuna tenses, and you feel it in his hold. "If it's by your hand, my Lord, I can only die happy."

"Yes. That much you've made clear." You hear him sigh, tired and defeated, as the spear drops to the floor. "To think this is how I'd lose…how pathetic…"

"M…my Lord?"

"Leave."

You see him, frustrated and defeated, and it makes your heart ache to see him like this. Without even realizing it, your hand reaches out and stops just before touching him. "Might I stay for you? Please, I only want…"

His glare nearly has you frozen. "THIS is how you want to celebrate a victory over me?"

"No, my Lord. I only wish to stay by your side and help how I can."

He's quiet, clearly upset. "Do what you will with me. I might as well be worthless like this anyway."

"Never to me, Lord Sukuna." You take his hand in both of yours, and bring your lips to his knuckles but he quickly pulls his hand away.

"What?!" He snarls. "What use is your loyalty to someone like me now?"

"You are my Lord, Sukuna. I serve you…" Your eyes meet his, full of longing and concern. "Anything I can do to help you, please let me…"

His eyes briefly glance at your quivering lips, leaning in without realizing before he turns away with a click of his tongue.

"Leave."

And you do as you are told.

------

"How is Lord Sukuna?"

Was one of the most frequent questions you'd pester the head servant's ears with. They roll their eyes. "He's not frail, you know. You don't need to worry about him like a mother hen."

"I just…it's been a week since I've seen him! If he doesn't want to see me, that's fine, but…I-I'd at least like to know if he's okay…" You sigh. "And what I did wrong…so I can avoid doing it again!"

"Just give him time to process." The head servant states nonchalantly. "This is new territory for him."

------

The silence was…

Awkward, to say the least.

Not a word uttered as he continued to paint those stupid edible weeds in the candle-light. It was already late…

"A-ahem." Your voice breaks slightly when you clear your throat, and you feel his gaze on you. "M-my Lord, if there's nothing else, I shall retire for the night."

"Stay."

What.

"Don't make me repeat myself." Clearly your reaction was evident in your body, and you choke on your words before they even get out.

"That night was my first defeat." He says, as if sensing your question, yet you hear a tired and heavy sigh. "As of now, it's been my only one."

"But…have you been okay, my Lord?"

"Always about me, hm?" He scoffs, and there's tension as his footsteps grow closer. Your eyes meet his, beautiful and terrifying, when his fingers gently tug your chin up - guiding you to look at him. Guiding your body to the mattress as he cages you underneath him. "And why not just claim your victory? I have no right to complain. Isn't that what you meant to do the night you defeated me?"

"What? No! My, Lord, no! I-I'm sorry. It wasn't-I didn't mean-It's not what you think! I could never-" Your hands cover your mouth - shocked at the implication. "Oh Lord Sukuna, I bow to you! Only you! I-I will never, could never, force something like that on you! Not then. Not now…"

"Good. This was getting overwhelming." He sighs and then promptly rolls off you, plopping down to your side. Though your skins were still touching and, for once, Sukuna didn't mind someone this close to him in this way. He was relaxed, as if his worries melted away. You couldn't help the smile that grew. This was the Lord you know - a walking death and calamity, now pacified. You both face each other and he can't help but look away, cracking under the weight of your loving gaze - full of adoration, concern and awe.

Weak.

He was weak.

"Lord Sukuna, may I?" Your hand reaches out to him, stopping just before reaching the wooden part of his face. He was so terribly beautiful.

"Do as you wish." He mumbles, and you gently hold him - even though he doesn't show it, you can feel him tense.

"My Lord, what's wrong?" There it is again, the weight that makes him feel like he's breaking without being broken. "I know you don't need it, but I only wish to help in any way I can…"

His mouth opens and closes several times before he's able to finally find the worse. "You've broken me. Made me weak…and I can't even curse you, or wish we'd never met because I'd be lying."

You chuckle. "My Lord is far from weak."

"Yet I am powerless against you." His four eyes bore into you, in them a mix of desperation and longing, as you gently stroke the wooden part of his face. Finally, he closes his eyes, relaxing against you. "And I never thought defeat could feel like this…"

"Is it pleasant, my Lord?"

"It is…" You feel his fingers tracing along your collarbone, up to your jawline and you feel something wet licking your skin as his hand rests on your throat. A mouth on his hand, gently licking and suckling on the sensitive parts of your neck. "…but only if it's you."

"Lord Sukuna…" Despite everything, you feel he's still tense. "You're tense. Would you like me to…?"

"Yes. I meant to bed you tonight, but this…it's…" He sighs. "Overwhelming. I'm not clueless, but something about you makes it all…too much…"

"Then let me lead, my Lord." You gently push him down, and he lets you - following you as you guide him. His hand takes hold of your chin, pulling you in so your lips meet his. His kiss was tentative and unsure, or perhaps more accurately, scared. Scared of every feeling that threatened to overthrow him. You eagerly massaged your lips against his nonetheless. "Please…allow me to worship you tonight, Lord Sukuna."

His breaths become heavier when you straddle him, gently undoing his kimono while he easily rips your clothes to shreds with a flick of a wrist. Your lips mark his skin gently. Moving down to worship his mouth, jaw, his shoulders, both chests and finally to the mouth on his stomach - who was breathing just as heavy. Sukuna tenses when you take his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it and explore the much bigger one with your smaller tongue.

When you pull away, there's a small pool of saliva where the stomach mouth lay open and plenty on you where the mouth-hands had left their marks on your skin. Both his cocks, beautiful, heavy and fat, sat on his stomach where they were already leaking with arousal. Sukuna's breathing turned heavy, and as your hands move to his waist, stopping just before doing anything, you look up at him. "My Lord, if at any time you wish for me to stop, please say so. I will stop without hesitation or question."

"Always about me…" He chuckles and, in a sudden movement, easily manhandles you so your ass is on his stomach-mouth. "No, I do not wish to stop. But if you truly ask for nothing in return, then let me be gracious."

"M-my Lord, ah-" Your eyes roll back when you feel that giant tongue lapping at the rim of your hole, the both of you moaning as he did so.

"Delicious…" A hand finds its way to your length, giving it lazy strokes before a mouth opens up and begins licking you - before taking you in. The heat of his mouth felt absolutely divine. The mouths on his other hands suck hickeys and bite the skin of your neck, while they find the sensitive nubs on your chest and harshly tug at them with teeth and lips, too. You hear a noise that's half-way between a whimper and a moan. "…everything about you…so delicious…"

"That's it, my Lord. I'm yours tonight…" You sigh, mind in bliss as your hands find his cocks. He bucks his hips when you begin to stroke him - slowly, before building to a steady pace. His cocks were thick and fat, heavy and veiny and monstrously beautiful in all the ways that had you nervous to take him. They throbbed eagerly, dare you say even aching for your touch. Bowing down, you take one of his tips into your mouth, careful not to let your teeth get in the way. The way his tip had pulsed and the amount of arousal you had to swallow down, had you moaning and whining happily as you swallowed his cock. Amidst the low growling of his stomach mouth, you hear a noise that's halfway between a whimper and a moan, and feel him buck his hips into your mouth as you lick and suck on him eagerly - tongue, lips and hands feverishly worshipping Sukuna's heavy, monstrous lengths.

The tongue begins to enter you, and you nearly cum on the spot - choking on his cock. Slowly, it reaches deep, deep enough to hit that spot that has you seeing stars. When you continue to moan, Sukuna's hips move on their own - tip fucking your mouth while you drool and stroke him.

You both get lost in pleasure. His large tongue tastes and moves eagerly inside you, practically assaulting that sweet spot as the stomach mouth continues to growl and whine and drool. While you eagerly suck on and stroke his twitching and throbbing lengths and he returns the favor, albeit a little more sloppy.

A guttural moan escapes Sukuna's throat when he releases into your greedy mouth, and you do your best to swallow everything he has to offer while his other cock paints you in white. Drool, precum and his seed still leak out your mouth, though - and you quickly find it's too much. Before you can stop yourself, you release into the mouth sucking you off - ass clamping down on the large tongue inside you as it continues to move inside of you, well past your high. You cum heavy into one of your Lord's many mouths, and it gags on your cock - the sensation making you spurt more into the mouth that greedily tries to swallow everything.

His tip leaves your mouth with a sloppy and wet pop and with a groan, both tongues take one final lick before retracting back. You both are breathing heavy, shaking a little as he repositions you to face him. His hand caresses your face, eyes completely dilated as he makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a sigh.

"Oh, gods, look at you…"

"My Lord, I-" Your eyes widen a little as you struggle a little in his grasp. "Wait-"

"Have you forgotten who you answer to?" He clicks his tongue. "You are in no position to make demands of me."

"I…answer to you, my Lord." You still, realizing what he was asking you. "I'm sorry."

There's a small silence as you look away bashfully. However, when you glance back at him and are met with a frown - there was the sudden realization of an unsaid question waiting to be answered. He hasn't moved at all. Immediately, you explain yourself, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. "I-I'm still a bit sensitive, is all…but I-I still want this! Truly, my Lord! I-I want…I want you, still."

Your voice comes out a little higher than you would have liked, but it seemed to quell him nonetheless.

"As am I, but…" He sighs and before he looks away, you capture his lips in a chaste but wet kiss.

"I know." You bite your lip bashfully and your voice comes out soft and sweet in all the ways that make his cocks twitch. "But, I did promise to worship my Lord tonight. I shouldn't make a promise I can't keep."

When your hands begin to stroke him again, slow and gentle, Sukuna practically throws his head back, biting back a low whimper while his stomach mouth shamelessly groaned and panted. He cursed as his hips began to move on their own, muscles tensing as his cocks grew hard again. Yet when your eyes lock he only sees adoration and longing in them as your hands worshipped him diligently. Not the empty lust he saw in everyone else who wanted him this way but could never get close.

"You look incredible like this, my Lord." Your voice comes out raspy and full of longing, and it tears a near animalistic sound from him.

"Enough." He growls, and you immediately stop. "Let me inside you."

"Anything for you." A mix of arousal, anxiousness and excitement overwhelms you as you climb on top of him, positioning yourself so his bottom cockhead kisses the entrance to your ass - readying you as it spurts those large trickles of precum. The both of you share a guttural groan as you sink down on one of his cocks, the free one throbbing delightfully in front of your own length. Sukuna was massive, to say the least, and despite how dripping wet he was your legs were still shaking from the wonderful strain. Although, your gummy insides took him in eagerly while being stretched to their limit.

The initial pain of the stretch was nearly drowned out by how wonderful he felt inside of you - fat and veiny cock completely filling you, dragging deliciously along the inside of your ass. You could feel him his arousal leak inside you, lubricating you plenty, and his length pulsing like a second heartbeat. And when you fully sheathed him inside of you, you both almost lost the ability to think properly.

"S-Sukuna, my Lord…" You'd be embarassed by how shameless you sounded with your Lord now fully inside you, his fat mushroom head leaking on and throbbing against that sweet spot. His hands rested on your hips, keeping your bodies joined with a messy puddle of arousal underneath you both. Sukuna's eyes were rolled back and fluttering slightly while his stomach mouth was open with his massive tongue lolled out, making a noise somewhere between a low growl and a whimper. Seeing him like this nearly sent you off the edge.

"O-ooh, gods…" He groans when he feels you clamp down on him, and a hand pulls your head into a clumsy kiss. You feel his breath turn into full on panting when he tasted himself on you, the hands on your hips now painfully digging into your skin as he begins to thrust up into you - sloppy, slow and languid, as if trying to get even deeper and split you apart. Your free hands, once caressing the wooden part of his face, now move down to stroke his free cock - earning you a low growling from the stomach mouth as it started panting.

"Oh, you feel heavenly, Lord Sukuna…" As if encouraged by your words, his thrusts start to get faster, harder - a steady rhythm beginning to build. "That's it. You're doing so well, my Lord."

"Ngh, ah…" Your Lord made such sweet sounds.

Neither of you were going to last long, it was all too much.

"A-ah, it's so good my Lord…" The pain had long subsided, replaced only with ecstacy. Sukuna's fat and heavy cock dragged along every part of your insides, and the feeling of the warm arousal dripping from his tip and the throbbing of his veiny length had you near screaming into his mouth. Your Lord was completely filling you and leaving no part of you unloved. While your ass, already sloppy and wet with Sukuna's arousal, desperately sucked him in every time you and him moved, only to be rewarded as he thrusted back in and you bounced back down on him, wet velvety insides squeezing him tightly as if never wanting him to leave. Without you even realizing it, your body was unconsciously and sweetly worshipping and loving your god. "I love you, Lord Sukuna!"

Something in Sukuna snaps upon hearing those words, which were otherwise empty - had it come from someone else.

"I want to taste you." He practically whimpers into your mouth as you both pant and continue to knot tongues. The kiss is clumsy, inexperienced, but you were far too lost in love to care - exploring your Lord's mouth eagerly while you struggle to ride his beautiful, monstrous form. The tongues on his mouths sucking, biting and tasting your skin; marking every bit of your body they could. This would hurt, but you didn't care. You only wanted to show your god how much you loved him. "Let me taste you…"

"Yes, my Lord. Anything-" This would hurt, but you didn't care - only wanting to show your god how much you loved him. "Anything you wish of me…"

With the flick of his wrist, there's a sharp pain on your tongue and a metallic taste floods both of your mouths - there's not enough damage to fully cut off your tongue, however, only a cut.

"Swallow me." Sukuna's breath hitches as he continues to kiss you, letting out a noise between a growl and a whimper, and you realize that it wasn't only your blood in both of your mouths. An offering of a devotee to their god, and a god to their devotee. You eagerly swallow each other's blood, moaning into your mouths as you share the messy, bloody kiss.

"Y-yes, keep going my Lord…" You continue to encourage him, as one of his hands moves to take both of your lengths and stroke them together. You and Sukuna both throw your heads back and nearly yell as the mouth on his hand opens up and swallows the both of you - tongue working eagerly on both your tips while your hands work on the shafts. "Cum for me, my Lord. Please…"

His thrusts get faster and harder, and you bounce on him just as fervently. What was once a steady rhythm has now turned sloppy as you both rode each other into your high. Sukuna reaches his orgasm with a choked yell, and you reach yours with a scream - bodies tensing as you both get lost in each other and neither of you stop moving. His warm and thick seed floods your insides, far too copious and spilling over. Your ass spasms and clamps down on him, almost painfully milking and sucking him in, desperately trying and failing to keep his overflowing love inside. The mouth that held both of your cocks greedily tries and fails to swallow all of the overflowing love as you and Sukuna both cum heavy into it.

It feels like forever, but you eventually collapse on top of him - both of you too tired to pull out of either hole. Though the mouth that held both of your cocks still lazily licked up at all the overflow. Minds completely muddled neither of you could think, bodies shaky with the high and tranquility of post-orgasm. There was nothing but the sound of your breathing for a while, before he silently cups your face and you feel the sting on your tongue disappear. With shaky hands, you touch your tongue and find the cut was healed.

"Thank you for sharing your blood with me, my Lord." You bury your face in the crook of his neck. "If I may, might I stay the night?"

"You'll be staying here every night, from now on." Without realizing it, his lips reach your forehead. "And for the rest of eternity, you will never leave my side."

"Yes, my Lord. I swear it." It was one simple, powerful vow that had you staying by his side for the rest of your life…

And made you return to him, in every life after.

-----

My GAAAHD was this difficult to write. Not the writing part itself, NO. But finding the time for writing. YEEESH. Anyways, have a great day!

[paymechildsupport]

I should have really been in bed five hours ago, but these leaks make me wanna commit heinous acts and I just gotta do something about this Sukuna pic cuz erm… just :3

He’s just so….. <3

EHEHEHHEHEHEHEH I don’t know what it is but the idea of having such a powerful, destructive man just down at my feet is so intoxicating jsjshdbdbdb

Just imagine his humongous form in your sheets in the latest hours of midnight— just an amalgamation of limbs on your bedspread

Drowsy and drunk off sleepiness, fighting off exhaustion in that soft cushiony state between consciousness with his big arms swallowing your much tinier body up, head on your chest

You’d absentmindedly run your fingers through his wolf hair, nails scraping his scalp in such a way to elicit tiny sounds of contentment

He in no way would be silent: bro will be sighing and huffing and even just purring occasionally,- exactly like an old cat or dog. You’d feel every noise vibrate, bouncing around in his large chest, pressed against your torso

The second you fall asleep and cease to shower him in affection he’d immediately get incredibly offended

He’d take it personally, and man’s can hold a NASTY GRUDGE (look what he’s doing to poor Yuji 😭)

He’d let out a rather audible, “hmph”, and make a show of pulling himself off of you, making sure he woke you up

“How dare you, pathetic mortal”

HE’D SULK

He’d be both very bluntly aggressive but also passive aggressive in every. Single. Thing.

He is entitled to your time, your attention, your affection, your every waking thought should be dedicated to him and him alone. He should be first priority over everything

JAJSJDBBDBS Y’know how in like superhero movies the villain sometimes has this really adorable cliché where they are this absolutely brutal, horrible monster whose committed numerous misdeeds but have a wife / spouse they treasure above all else? Like, they’ll be in the middle of explaining their plans of world domination when their wife all of a sudden calls out that dinner’s ready, — and then all of a sudden the villain is this esteemed gentleman who’s just really really excited to have some lasagna his darling wife made for dinner?? They really just wanna keep their spouse outta all the crime and such cuz they know they hate it and always get scolded for it.

yeah, that’s the only way I’ve been coping for these past leaks 🥶

Sukuna would be in the middle of nuking the map when all of a sudden you pull up

He’d be talking all high and mighty, saying how he’d obliterate and kill all of Yuji’s loved ones when suddenly he hears his name get called out and he’d just FREEZE.

“Quick, act like I didn’t just murder your closest kin like three minutes ago.”

”what? Why??”

“Because my spouse is here and they’ll actually skin me alive if they see me like this 😡—- hey honey ☺️ how’s it going..?”

Like tensing up, eyes bulging, lip quivering, sweating BULLETS, the most scared anyone’s ever seen him. Immediately dropping everything, disregarding the accumulating mass of cursed energy he’d been saving up for the past twenty minutes, to turn around and give you his best, most charming smile

You’d just walk up to him and like, grab him by the ear, yanking him down to your level to curse the ever living daylights outta him

“Stop going out and bullying teenagers 🤬 you miserable old man I swear—“

And he’d just stand there and TAKE IT. You’d scold him exactly like a disappointed mother, personally escorting him off the battlefield and profusely apologizing to Yuji for your husband’s actions

He’d just be all sad, walking away and dragging his feet, moping, back hunched, hand holding yours 😭🤏 and leaving an incredibly confused Yuji

And then you adopt Yuji and Sukuna stops being a grumpy old man and my boy gets his happily ever after and we all hug it out :3

[lgbtlunaverse]

One underdiscussed aspect of the bone-deep lack of mutual understanding during the nieyao stairs scene is that Nie Mingjue doesn't know - and can't know - what he's actually asking of Jin Guangyao. Not because he doesn't understand how his father treats him, or how tenuous his position is. But because he has no clue Xue Yang is a demonic cultivator.

Remember: Nie Mingjue is still alive, which means the position of chief cultivator doesn't exist yet and Jin Guangshan is facing heavy pushback for suggesting it. Most of that is coming from a fear that the Jin will try to become the next Wen. So having an outer disciple murder an entire clan and then not even punish him properly? This is a collosally bad move politically! You might as well be waving a red flag around yelling "I want to kill other sects with impunity!" There's a reason that years in the future, the moment Jin Guangyao becomes acting sect leader, he will immediately order Xue Yang's death (He doesn't actually die, either by accident or on purpose on jgy's part. But the point is that as far as the public is concerned he had Xue Yang executed.)

From Nie Mingjue's perspective, Jin Guangshan just shot himself in the foot politically for some random outer disciple. It's morally wrong, but it's also incredibly fucking stupid. In his eyes, he is asking Jin Guangyao to do the glaringly obvious right thing, even when exclusively looking at the Jins' self-interest. The thing that surely everyone else in the Jin also wants Jin Guangshan to do! Jin Guangyao can say that he has no influence on his father all he wants, but it is obvious how much work he does and so, as much as his father may not respect him, he clearly at least trusts Jin Guangyao's competence. Nie Mingjue has already tried shouting directly at Jin Guangshan during the trial and it seemed to work, but then Jin Guangshan went back on his decision like a complete idiot. So now Nie Mingjue is asking the guy who is famous for being good at rhetoric and convincing people to convince his donkey of a father to do the obviously correct thing with minimal downsides because again, to Nie Mingjue, this is all about some random outer disciple. It makes sense to ask this! It's a pretty reasonable request! Jin Guangshan can't possibly care that much.

Except of course he does. Because Xue Yang isn't some random outer disciple. He's the only good shot Jin Guangshan has at recreating the yin tiger tally. And Jin Guangshan reaaaaaally wants the yin tiger tally. So bad that he is fully willing to tank an ungodly amount of political goodwill to get it. Jin Guangyao is fully aware that not only will Jin Guangshan never kill Xue Yang, he isn't planning on keeping him locked up either. In fact, after Nie Mingjue is dead, he'll free Xue Yang and strongarm Chang Ping into denying the guilt of his family's murderer. Jin Guangshan cares a lot about keeping Xue Yang in his employ.

And Jin Guangyao knows this. But he can't tell Nie Mingjue that! Because then he'd have to admit they've been doing demonic cultivation. That the fucking ghost geneal is in their basement. That, oopsie, they actually also killed a whole other entire clan just a while ago after framing their sect leader for an assasination attempt and then used their bodies as fodder to make more fierce corpses. You know, in case one mass murder wasn't enough!

So obviously he's not gonna say that. Which means Nie Mingjue has no idea what he's demanding from Jin Guangyao, and therefore no idea why he absolutely can't fullfill that request.

I get why it's not mentioned very often because there are a lot of other problems which are both more obvious and more fun to talk about. (Who doesn't love a little overcomplicated trolley problem?) But I think it adds just another layer to the chasm between them in this scene. They're not just disagreeing, they're having completely different conversations.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

re.: the weasleys + parenting

what's always bugged me most abt percy's fight with arthur (especially in the fandom, where everyone's like 'oh, he turned his back on harry and betrayed his family to side w the ministry) is that. that's hardly what the fight is about at all. the fight is about the fact that percy, an 18yo kid who just got promoted to his dream job instead of straight up losing any chance at ever being Minister (because they tried to scapegoat him into taking the blame for the crouch business even though he managed to keep the whole department running while his boss wasn't even there), comes home all excited to tell his parents that "Hey, he's not unemployed and bereft of any and all hope for his biggest dream", but rather that his skills and competence got recognized by The Most Important Man In The Government, and molly and arthur look him straight in the face and go—"no you didn't."

there is no mention whatsoever that they even try to be gentle about it, that they congratulate him first and then bring it up later like "just be careful around Fudge, he's always looking for people to get information from and you are the best of both worlds, close to the action and actually good at the job he hired you for", nothing of the sort. they straight up don't even consider how any of those factors might've weighed in Fudge's decision to hire him.

and, perhaps worst of all, they have no faith in Percy. he tells them "I'm working for the minister", and not only do they not spare a second to be happy for him over this frankly momentous achievement (or at the very least concern for the position it puts him in), they jump straight to conjectures and accusations. "you only got this because of Harry" has got to crush Percy, who was raised to believe that good things come to honest, hard-working people and who has been working for this since he was a small child. and it digs the knife deeper when you realize that most of his siblings have basically replaced him with Harry. Harry, who also plays Quidditch and also keeps throwing himself into death-defying dangers and overalls fits much better into the family dynamic than Percy ever has.

and there's just this. crystal clear implication that they do believe Percy would spy on them. he's so Different and Other and Un-Weasley/Gryffindor-like and they've alienated themselves from him so absolutely that they can't see any reasons he wouldn't willingly and consciously jeopardize his parents' livelihood and Harry & his siblings safety just to stay in the Minister's good graces, when if anyone's actually at risk of losing their job for siding with Dumbledore is his father, who's still working there quite merrily and continues to so for a long time afterwards.

Percy, who runs into a freezing lake mid-February while attending an international event as Crouch's replacement to make sure Ron is alright, who pesters Ginny to eat and have a pepper-up potion most of her first year bc she doesnt look well, who tails Harry and Ron a lot of their second and third years bc there's something petrifying kids and then Dementors on the grounds and a mass murderer on the loose and they all just think he's being willfully bothersome like no you idiots he's worried.

of course he left. of course he left. what did he have to gain by staying at the Burrow, beyond fresh home cooked meals harassment and disagreements? why wouldn't he leave?

sorry I have a lot of feelings about this.

No need to apologize, this is brilliantly written!

I don't even feel like I need to add anything as you summed up the Percy situation perfectly.

But I can't help myself because I love discussing the Weasley family dynamics, so it's a bit more rumbley than my usual...

Percy cares so much for his family. When Voldemort is revealed and the war actually starts, he puts all his disagreements with his parents aside to come and help and make sure they're okay, because he cares. And still, he is being shunned and treated like an outsider.

Arthur and Molly Weasley are just really good at alienating their kids because it isn't just Percy.

Somehow all of them succeded in feeling like outsiders in a family of 9. Bill shows frustration with his parents and only returns to Britain because of the war, Charlie's in Romania for most of the series. Fred and George run away the moment they can and are treated like trouble by their parents most of the time (Molly and Arthur assume they are selling stolen goods from Mundungus when they hear they have money, not that they, idk, somehow earned it), Ron has a whole complex of low self-esteem and a tendency to blame himself for everything. Ginny is isolated from her brothers as the only girl and youngest...

And Percy cares and tries to be the best and most responsible sibling and gets scorned in turn.

Harry and Ron do acknowledge Arthur's and Molly's accusation towards Percy was awful and that he was right to respond negatively in OOTP. Ron is just sensitive about their family's financial state which soured Percy to him after Percy blew up at their dad (rightfully so, honestly, I'd say way worse to Arthur if it was me).

The thing is, Percy also gets scorned by his siblings, not just his parents (like Fred and George do). He gets grief for trying to be responsible and for wanting his siblings to do well in school and not get in trouble, Fred and George lock him in a pyramid...

That being said, do I think Percy is perfect? No, he is pretentious and overbearing at times, but he is a child in a large family who tries to find a place to fit himself in. According to child psychology, usually when it comes to siblings, the eldest would usually (at least in childhood) try to be everything the parents want (Bill), and then each next sibling will carve a different niche for themselves, and we see this with the Weasleys. I think the twins being born right after Percy and demanding a lot of attention from their parents from a young age as they were little troublemakers from the start is a big reason why Percy chose the niche of being bookish, ambitious, and responsible for himself. To contrast himself with them and his older brothers and get some attention from their parents.

I'm not a fan of the epilog (like everyone), but I find it hard to imagine Percy being close to his family post-books. I think he never fully got over the sting of not being seen as skilled and competent and that his parents believed he'd turn on them all without a second thought. Nor do I think he should just get over it.

Like, I'm really salty that Percy was the only one to apologize:

“I was a fool!” Percy roared, so loudly that Lupin nearly dropped his photograph. “I was an idiot, I was a pompous prat, I was a—a—” “Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron.” said Fred. Percy swallowed. “Yes, I was!” “Well, you can’t say fairer that that,” said Fred, holding out his hand to Percy. Mrs. Weasley burst into tears. She ran forward, pushed Fred aside, and pulled Percy into a strangling hug, while he patted her on the back, his eyes on his father. “I’m sorry, Dad.” Percy said.

(Deathly Hollows, pages 512-513)

Like, yes, it's great he was smart enough to realize the ministry is corrupt, but this demand only for him to apologize when Molly and Arthur Weasley were just as much in the wrong. Fred and George weren't beacons of sainthood here either. But none of them have apologies demanded of them. None of them are demanded to confess they are "morons". Just Percy.

Who even after his apology is still an outsider. Probably always will be one.

You said it best: "Why wouldn't he leave?"

And that's what we see him do (if temporarily).

[luffyvace]

Hello, could I request Feitan with a reader who looks innocent and angelic usually but is actually just as sick and sadistic as he is? (Aka it's like a secondary persona kind of)

And she's also part of an organization(that kills people) without him knowing (she was part of it even before meeting him)

Ouuuu an interesting reader we have here~

Seeing as though all the feitan gifs are generic fighting ones I’ve put my own picture :) I think it’s hilarious 😂

enjoy your headcanons lovely anon! 💗

(fem! reader implied bc you used ‘she’ in your request but I won’t imply female body just in case)

Feitan getting with an angelic and innocent s/o is certainly an oxymoron

Your such a sweetheart, so thoughtful and kind

you always try to help and encourage others as much as you can

:)

But in reality no?? really your such a sick and twisted sadist who loves watching every moment of others suffering???

welp that went down the drain quickly

feitan might have picked up on the fact that it was all an act or your slightly sadistic tendencies

especially since he’s highly observant

Though I’m not sure how you revealed your in a organization or if you knew he was in the troupe but it probably went like

”your in a criminal organization? Oh…me too” 🧍‍♀️

“Wait what?” 🧍‍♀️

“so we’re both in criminal organizations of the sort?”

🧍‍♀️ 🧍‍♀️

well I guess its all out in the open now

as soon as he figures out your a sadist tho

its on

torture sessions become even more frequent seeing as though he now has someone to enjoy it with

he finds it rather fun to have someone laugh manically with him and not call him a loony 🤓

he’s grateful even

the victims really range from anyone off the street

to enemies from either of your organizations

maybe even someone who gave you a hard time

(they simply bumped into you, you apologized like the “sweet” person you are, but they had no idea what was coming for em that night)

(for fei, they probably mocked him)

you and feitan either have a dedicated torture room or have turned you basement/attic into one

and it definitely has a lock on it

feitan will recommend you some books and you likely do the same for him

(by some i mean you have a whole library shelf—who are you fooling 🤨)

you two make as much time for each other as you can

which yes torturing together counts as quality time

and y’all see it as a sense of normalcy too

wherever y’all stay you just be like

”hey wanna have a quick torture session then find something to eat for dinner?”

like it’s like going about normal daily activities for you two

it also feels good to have someone that gets you from the outside

like your both dangerous criminals,

that likely grew up in harsh conditions

(bc i mean come on mass murders have triggers/motivs they don’t just do things for no reason)

and now you have someone from outside your organization that gets you!

like, they even like torturing just like you!!

best s/o feitan could wish for

as time goes on you two would find out why you joined the organizations you did and if you genuinely enjoy it, just doing it for the money, etc

no matter the reasons or time, you accept each other :)

this also appeals more trustworthy to feitan!! Since your in one yourself, you can’t sell out feitan without selling out yourself!

😋

but…that could go downhill..

for example, your organization could be trying to target feitan/the troupe and is making you use him to get to them

As time goes on he shakes away the thought, it’s probably been years (when feitan’s down, he’s down for the count, he doesn’t do flings, in my hcs) since you’ve been together so he wants to trust you

basically the further things go in with you two, the more he trusts you

of course you have to make sure to give him reasons to trust you and don’t give him any reason not to

he’ll start getting suspicious of you even on the first slip up

(if it happens)

he has to protect the spider, there’s no way he can let it fall because of him

orrrr!!!

your organizations could meet! And form a alliance that may or may not be temporary/strictly business!!

it would be fun seeing all members together drinking and wrecking havoc!!

right?!

😊

LOL just imagine your all casually talking about such violent and socially unacceptable crimes 🤪

especially you and feitan

you guys are so silly

just a silly little group of friends :)

planning to commits fiendish acts together<3

honestly I like the last scenario the best

its so silly :P

I’m glad to see more feitan stans on my page!! thank you for requesting, hopefully you enjoyed!

💖

[altarrot]

BOUND TO RABIDITY.

ao3 issue.

synopsis: loved raw and confined in hostage, you're stuck in a situation beyond nightmares - but it's more dreamlike than anything. author's note: thank you guys for so much love on the first part??? i just had to give y'all another part

[ ♡ ] pairing: killer!simon "ghost" riley + fem!reader

[ ♡ ] genre: smut, dark content

[ ♡ ] warnings: (very tamed) stockholm syndrome-ish, slight emotional manipulation, mentions of pregnancy, hostage situation, touch-starved reader, age difference, mild comfort, unprotected sex, praise kink, pet-names, oral sex (male receiving), rough sex.

PART 2/2 | PART 1

You were on the brink of hysteria. A confined hysteria with complications of dream-like and strayed. It was complex; the whole situation easy to be taken advantage off and revolved in the right ways. Though, you were unsure on why you had let that man in the balaclava dispossess your virginity, and afterwards let him lift you in his arms, only for your eyes to give out on themselves and descend into a slumber of exhaustion — only to be restored to a whole, new surrounding that built-up around you.

Settled on bared mattress with a sting at your collar — and the larger, warmth of a body resting before your eyes, a frailness is received in your limbs once again. You were afraid of him, obviously, but couldn't help but sought solace in the man. Even in slumber, he still refuses to strip himself of the mask, the only discernible difference was the two closed slits of his eyes — blonde lashes based onto his pale skin of faint black. The only thing you were able to do is stare at his drowsing condition, remarking his features still caked of brown, dried blood while the stench of vague cigarette smoke and some iron flooded at your nose.

Tucking your arm under your laid head on the teared pillowcase, you shift yourself, now fully facing him with dozens of inquiries consuming at your head. Why would he make the conscious decision of taking you away, laying you like on his supposed bed like a lover rather than locking you in some rusting basement? (That's what you had always assumed what happened when a person was taken hostage.) But it was nothing of those imaginations, those violent and inhuman imaginations were more decent — lenient and civilized.

Examining him, there was some beauty found between his brutal nature. Blonde lashes, athletic physique, and a sight of tattoos that peered under his tactical jacket that were slightly bunched up to the forearm. It seemed almost insane to envision a serial killer like this, as if he were some sort of saint, some heroic figure to you, but it was almost impractical not to.

In the midst of observing him, his eyelids flicker open, ditches of dark-brown impaling into your stare. There's some guilt situated in those ditches, but a mass of it was just some tedious; monotone and somber. You both were only able to bring yourselves to stare at each other, liable and imprecise to how either brought themselves to this situation. (Even though a majority of it was at his fault.)

You rid of your parched throat. "Ghost, you know... I really do like you," you said, "...I think you're the sweetest guy in the whole world."

He stiffens. "But why me?"

"You've given me the affection a guy has never given me before."

"I'm a lowlife murderer, honey." he mutters, "Nothing special about me."

"I know that, but — I can't help but bring myself to love you."

With all honesty, your confession seems non-genuine; too much of a mock since you've only become acquainted with him since the hours of last night. But it comes out as pure, raw truth — that you really do love that man, you love a man with murderous intent on the run. He's drained in your presence, at a loss of words and unable to dispense you with a convenient response. Even in the former times in serving in the military as a lieutenant before he evolved into a loathsome cutthroat, remnant sensations of love were futile to him.

Nausea overburdens you out of the blue. Possibly from the aftereffects of your plain confession, leaving you to feel flustered at the fervent words.

He lifts a stiff arm up from his side and props it on your cheek, fingers fondling your face in tenderness. A low rasp of a sigh heaves from his clad face. Your eyes close, indulging in his comforting touch, familiar with his circular motions he presses your skin in with. You're disoriented off reality; closed-off and limited to only him, like he was your savior, only hope in a lifetime at this point.

It was thought to be a one-time thing. Latent emotions that preceded into intercourse, but never into a full-time-sort-of relationship resulting in finding sanctuary in a run-down home — his run-down home, or perhaps some kind of affordable one-night motel. Nonetheless, it wasn't as bad as expected, just perplexing and coming to you in overwhelming waves.

"You're just putting yourself in danger, love," he remarks, "You know that I love you too, but, it's a hazard to be involved with me."

Your doe eyes gaze down at him. "So be it, I don't care." you said, sitting up and leaning up the headboard, "I like being involved with you."

Ghost makes the decision to just give into you; your stubbornness and refusal to his objections not dissolving anytime soon. Even so, you were so obedient to him, so willing to comply with his bloodthirsty motives — so what would be so bad about having you as an advocate at his side, like a partner or a wife that acts in company with her psychotic husband.

"Fuck, okay, that's my girl," he said with a small doubt, "You going to stay by my side forever?"

"Anything for you, I'm yours forever."

He slopes upwards to give you a kiss. "I know you will, so good, huh?"

You nod, a smile tainting your lips.

"That's right," he fully sits up alongside you, but steps off the mattress onto two stable feet, "I'll be in the bathroom, just doll yourself up whenever, okay?"

And that's when he abandons you. Abandons you on the now-known singular motel bed, curtains crowding the panels of the window, bulbs of lamps at each side the only source of light given in the room. The sound of the bathroom's lock clicks, following the running water of the shower slamming against the floor. You sit in the atmosphere for a few minutes, aimlessly watching the box of a television run through some talk-show, arms linked around your legs that were bent and met with your chest.

The skin of your cheek presses to your knee, eyes lingering at the ceiling which was lined with bumps. You didn't entirely hate your new lifestyle with Ghost, even though you deserted your parents as a whole, leaving them worried to your whereabouts; you just needed a break off everything. Your parents, your regular life, the continual reminders of the serial killer situation. (Even though you were practically in love with the man behind it all, running away with him essentially.)

Unless you were naive and only stuck to him like a case of Stockholm Syndrome, then that would make more sense; but it really didn't feel like that was the case, there was a genuine, conscious love that you deepened in your heart for him. You thought of yourself as nothing to him, just some stress-reliever he comes across and fucks in the middle of the woods, predicting for him to brutally murder you afterwards and leave your rotting corpse right at the very stump he took you on.

But marking his own words of you being special, all those illusions and predictions were slipped from your mind. Knowing that you were special, his special girl, you couldn't help but tolerate yourself to fall for him. With the affection he gave you that night, whether a fraud or not, it's the most another person has ever given you; a deep consolation was discovered in him after that.

The lock of the bathroom sounds a noise to be opened, door swaying open as Ghost came out with only a towel at his waist — mask naked to your two eyes that readjusted to him. His hair was no different than the shade of his lashes, dirty blonde, and short while his two eyes were given structure; a moderately sharpened jaw with a few scars littering his skin, a light stubble coating at the edges of his face. His chest was sturdy with a prominent lines of bulging abs and a v-line lined with a trail of hair, biceps hefty with the left one nearly covered with ink.

Your pupils dilate at the sight, wandering over his displaying form, finding him as equally handsome with the balaclava on. He comes over to you and settles on the foot of the bed, sinewy back muscles facing you. You take the chance to crawl across the mattress; positioning yourself at his side as you rest your head at his shoulder with your arms clung around his torso. He smells of a masculine scent; some cologne and shampoo used to freshen up from the reek of cigarette smoke and metallic crimson.

He eases up at your touch, his own head tilting to rest against yours. For the first time, you feel in love. You worship him like a lover, supply him off the affection he once gave you, touch him with intentions of a good heart.

"How long do we stay here?" you ask, against his head, "Unless you only paid for a one night stay."

"I can pay off for a couple more days, rest here, we don't really have anywhere to go."

"Sounds good."

One of your arms unhinges itself from around him to trace at the muscles of his back, a spread palm smoothing over and a finger often prodding at the flesh.

You bite your lip. "Is there a first-aid kid in here?"

"Saw one near the sink, why? You hurt?"

"Well," you point a finger to the fresh wound at your collarbone, not that fresh, but still to the limit of being a red tint, "From last night, and I feel a little nauseous."

"Oh fuck, I'm sorry," he said, turning in place and lifting you in his arms, treading back to the bathroom where he sat you on the lid of the toilet, "Stay still."

Ghost searches through a cabinet, gathering the small box of white and a red cross, unlatching it. He searches for a bandage patch and antiseptic, placing the two items of the counter. Leaning down, still half-naked and draped in only a towel around his waist, he dabs at the wound he caused with a cotton ball — antiseptic stinging with the exposed tissue. Your jaw clenches and teeth gnash against each other until the cotton is drawn away from you."

"Sorry, honey, I know it hurts," he reassures, "I just need to wrap it."

"Okay." you said.

His slender, thick fingers are like touches of tranquility — calming yourself from the persistent sting established in the wound caused of his own blade. You peer at him while he assists you, a strain of focus on his face, handsome even with the faint scars painting his face; his teeth bites at his lower lip in a focus, eyes widened yet squinting from time-to-time.

The bandage patch sews up your wound and he draws himself away by a few inches. He cocks his head for a second before it straightens back up on the base of his neck.

"There, all better?"

"Much better. Thank you."

He chuckles, shaping his lips into yours for a brief kiss.

"Ghost." you mumble his name.

"What?"

"Can we do it again?"

At first, he's completely oblivious to what you're referring to, but figures it out within a few reruns of what you could mean.

"You want to have sex again?"

Your fingers clutch at the edges of the toilet lid with a tiny pressure. "Yes, I was just wondering... since you made my first time feel like heaven." you said, "But it's okay if you don't want to."

"Oh, angel," he shifts himself back in his leaning, standing in front of you, "How could I say no to such a pretty girl like you?"

Without another word, he has your lips shaping into his for much longer, with tongue and sloppy flows. You capture his face in both of your palms, pulling him closer into you, whines escaping and devouring into his mouth. His face feels so much better to hold without cloth separating you from it, fingertips swiping over most of the scars. Large hands rest at your waist and squeeze, brain already numb and foggy at only his mouth and hands.

You slide from the seat of the lid to the floor, upper-half resting at the wall of the bathtub as he's given more easy access to move up your body. His body sculpted like a marble statue situates between your thighs that automatically spread for him on command, the cold of the bathroom floor tiles making you shiver as it nudges at the backs of your bare legs.

Your hands cling to his chest and feel up his abs, his lips still devouring you.

"Ghost, wait."

He parts from you. "What's wrong?"

"Can we try something different?" you ask, "I want to give you pleasure this time."

"You want to suck me off?"

"Yes."

His eyes scrutinize you before he obliges, switching positions with you; him sat up at the wall of the bathtub while you sat on your heels between his muscular legs.

"Are you sure about this, sweetheart? You really don't have to." he said, hesitant.

You offer him only silence as you tear the towel at his waist off of him, inclining yourself down with an arched back, lips pursing around the blunt head of his cock. He grunts and drops his head back, teeth bared with a flat palm at the top of your head. You struggle to take his entire size and girth down your throat within the first few supports of your mouth, competent to only the first few inches, but you eventually reach the base of his cock — swallowing and taking in him whole.

For the first time of sucking someone off, you're pretty proficient at it, being able to satisfy him with his full cock down your throat — tip bulging a little at the back. His noises each time you slide your mouth down him are a type of nirvana; raspy groans right into your ear or a deep grunt originating from the depths of his chest. Tears edge at your waterlines in a suffocation.

"You're doing so good, sweetie," he breathes, "Taking me like the good slut you are."

A muffled moan around his size is earned from his praising words.

"You going to let me cum down your pretty, little throat?"

"Please, yes." you said, gagged around him.

With your tongue running up each protruding vein that collects at his cock and your movements growing increasingly faster, a knot in his stomach begins to form, a sensitivity at his cock heightening.

Your hands find purchase at his thighs, body arching impossibly farther upwards as you press your thighs together with a pulse starting up at your cunt. The cotton of your newly-put-on panties were moist, already stained much like last night when he had a knife threatened to your throat. Noises of gagging and more often grunts were deluging the bathroom, dragging down the thin walls and right back to you.

The hand in your hair is tight, his head fully thrown back with eyelids screwed shut, and his mouth is expanded out. His chest hauls with every heavy breath he takes, sweat sheeting over his skin; a gloss glistens off his skin, reflecting with the lights of the bathroom overhead.

Ghost curses aloud while his hips stutter, pausing to stay in the profound stance where his seed floods into your mouth and down your throat. His supporting hand serves as a way to keep you right where he wants you to be; cock wholly down your throat and forcing you to swallow the spurts of white — which you gratefully swallowed. You retreat back and rest your head on his one of his thighs, attempting to catch your breath, as his right hand rests at your head and pats your hair down.

"You did so good, doll," he pants out, head bowed down where you rested on his thigh, "And for your first time too."

A dazed smile is given to him across your lips, soiled with a few marks of his cum.

"Are you sure you still want to continue?" he asks, concerned about your exhaustion.

You nod slowly. "I want to feel you again, you make me feel so loved."

A short break is given from sucking him off, enabling more stamina to build up. He no longer scents of masculine cologne; but also sweat, sticky sweat that combined with your own, even through the dress you were still clothed in from the previous night. With enough rest taken, Ghost shifts positions back with you; you're back against the bathtub while he spreads your thighs for you, perching between them.

His fingers flow up your thighs; the callous skin tickling your softer flesh as he flips the skirt of your dress up, lifting it over your head. He then rips the fabric of your bra and panties off from your sticking skin, leaving you as bare as he was. A whine draws from you at the sudden frigid temperatures.

Immense hands rest around your legs, placing them at his shoulders. You're laid on the bathroom floor instead of against the bathtub, giving more flexibility and access to him. The head of his cock finds itself resting at your sopping entrance, a low whimper falling from your lips. A heat in your face rises; heartbeat through your chest and going to impossible speeds.

"You want this again, lambie?" he asks through his teeth, "You want to be fucked by a murderer? Have your needy pussy filled?"

"Please!" you said of desperation, "I need you so bad, love you inside of me."

Self-restraint was impractical, which is why he was unable to hold back, sheathing himself up inside of you. Your limbs bring themselves to twitch at the first thrust, an audible whimper brought from your throat. His hips initially snap slowly against yours; ultimately hastening once he accommodated to your usual tightness. The heat of his body warms your own, cold and naked in contact with the tiles of the floor.

Your extended legs at his shoulders lose balance, collapsing to his waist, instead enclosing on his waist. Fingers grope at any available portion of your delicate anatomy, skin fondled in and caressed. Through languorous visions, the man's head appears to tilt half-way, the bottom of his jaw visible in a clamped built, his sweat-radiance chest stuttering with non-consistent breaths. You writhe underneath him — your cunt progressing to a fragile condition, producing perceptible noises in addition to his cock ramming up your inner-walls.

Specifically like Ghost, your head is left to be thrown back; not against the ventilation air of the room, but at a hardened ceramic that bumps the back of your head each time. You're fucked-out, lightheaded within the very couple of aggressive thrusts he gives your cunt. The blunt head of his cock pounds at your cervix with some compounded vigor; torn moans and whimpers bleeding without shame from your mouth, benefitting him. Forging him as more carnal, rabid.

"Ghost," you sob, "Fuck me harder."

He dips his head to you. "You want me harder, baby?"

"Anything, please — harder, faster, anything..."

He uses his already-dipped head to kiss at your scalp, posture adjusting, spine rigid. His stance of composure results in more hostile rams into your cunt, pounding you with your back arched off the tiles of the ground. At this pace, you almost forget whose fucking you; causing you to go brain-dead, to give into so much bliss. You almost forget you're desiring for a serial killer to fuck you, painting him the picture of a perfect man — a man of innocence and instead uses his skill of vigilance picked up from his position in the military.

You're impossibly tight at his cock, compact and compressing that earns a low grunt from his breath. He's giving you a few more last thrusts of aggression, harmonies of whimpers and grunts, the atmosphere of sex fogging up the mirror above the sink, the porcelain of the tub and metals of the faucets. Nails dig into both his forearms, tugging at his tattoos and unadorned muscle.

The sense of thick liquid splatters at your walls, a sweltering heat generating a feeling to squirm in the arrangement which he held you in, brawny hips motionless at yours. Ghost slumps above you and remains in you, plugging him inside of you to sustain his seed. You bend upwards to where his face hung; lips pressing kisses of fondness to his nose, to his scarred cheeks, and to his lips. His breaths are felt at the flesh of your own face — hot, and scented of cigarette smoke and a minty taste.

You swallow. "I'll love you forever, Ghost," you said, arms looped at him in an embrace, "I mean it. I really do. My heart is yours."

"And I'll make sure you're mine forever," he whispers against your scalp, "Nothing will separate us."

Forwarding to the sedate dusk, mid-dusk where the sky brushed with shades of nights and sunlight, you were still bound to that familiar motel room. Ghost was on the foot of the mattress, caked with blood once again, combat boots rested at the carpet of the room. He was hunched over, silent, staring at the running late-afternoon television. You sat in a nightgown obtained from the motel's laundry room, stolen, and similar to the dress you wore with your first encounter with him — lace, white, and dangling to the limits of your thighs. Observing Ghost, he was no longer gentle.

His appearance of blood, black, and masked was returned what he really was; a murderer, a monster. It made you feel nauseous again. A hand trails over your clothed stomach of lace, lowering onto the aching region. You wanted to tell him, but didn't want to cause a riot, so you only manage to impose yourself to shove off the bed, steadying on two legs with your hand still over your stomach. He takes notice of the bed sinking, then un-sinking when you're seen to be standing near the bedside table.

"What's wrong with you?"

His voice is gruff, raspy — but attempting a soft and tender approach when gazing over at you.

"I feel sick," you said, "Headache and my stomach hurts."

"You need help?"

"Maybe," you bite your tongue,"Yes."

He throws the bloodied switchblade he toyed with between his hands on the mattress, standing up, and treading to over where you were; using his customary procedure of hoisting you into his arms and supporting you in a bridal pose. It's more comfortable this way anyways, with the pain in your stomach becoming moderate, using him as a prop to rest on.

You're sat on the edge of the tub, him on the toilet seat lid.

You breathe, preparing to respond with the one thing you wish is fabricated, false — but there is no denying that it could be the one thing that's making you feel this way.

"Do you think I'm pregnant?"

Ghost stares. "Pregnant?"

"Yeah, I mean, we had unprotected sex two times," you stutter on your breaths, "No condoms, no birth control."

"Fuck."

"It could be worse. Could've been some sexual-related disease. Herpes."

Whirling himself around in place, he rummages through the nearest cabinet, tossing a few hand-towels and sanitary items aside, sometime finding a rectangular box in design of a pregnancy test. He faces back to you, holding the box in a fist, eyes sincere and perturbing.

"You take one of these, I'll be right outside."

The box is fixed in your own fist as he stands, exiting the bathroom with the door shut behind him. It's apparent that he's only right outside the door; heavy breaths and frequent thumps of his body against the wall. You swipe your tongue across your lips before biting at your lower one. As a majority of everything was going along great with him, one of your worst fears was at a near-possibility of coming to a factual reality.

Taking a couple of minutes to understand the instructions, taking it out off the box, utilizing it as you struggle with the ache at the pit of your stomach. For the duration of wait-time, you sit with your lip bit, rocking back and forth on the edge as your eyes fixed on the plastic object.

Waiting time took minutes, almost felt like months, years; a nerve struck in you.

And when it concluded, you swear you felt your heart drop to your stomach, veins running of blood — a cold sweat escaping at your forehead.

A whine inside of your mouth imploded. A hand over your mouth, head spiraling in circles. Your hand free of the test is at your forehead, a palm splayed over. Tears stop dead at your lower lids, eyes only glossy and glistening under the light, droplets reflecting of the worst possibility that was held in your hand. You can only manage a distinct whimper of his name, turning your head towards the door, watching as it slowly opens; Ghost bursts himself inside and rushes on his two legs when he perceives the physical emotion of distress on your face.

His arms come to wrap at your head, swaddling you, dragging you to the floor with him. Breaths of hyperventilation are decorated into his chest while he holds you close to him — one hand into your hair, the other holding up at your back. His head is held to yours, feeling his masked chin rest at your forehead, hand in your hair stroking in comforting motions. You're laying at his chest.

"I don't... I don't know what to do." you said, voice trembled.

"Honey, look at me," he said, both his hands clinging to your face, forcing to look up at him, "Right here."

You stare him in his mask holes of eyes.

"What are we — I —going to do?"

"Well, there's two of us, right?"

"...Yeah."

"So, we can both work together for the child," he suggests, "Like how we work together right now. Partners in crime, you know?"

"But, I don't know if I want it..."

"Think of it as a reminder. A reminder to how much you love me, you want to stay with me forever, just like you said."

"I guess you're right." you muttered, comforted and easily swayed by his words.

"Of course I am," he said into your scalp, "I did say nothing would separate us, after all."

[freya-fallen]

Sinners and Saints

TW: blood

GN reader×Yandere Alastor

Alastor had no way of knowing the precious commodity he would find when he stepped out that day. It was Hell, after all, full of sinners of all scores. There were lechers and gamblers, adulterers, murderers, cannibals… The usual scattering masses followed his wake, screams, hushed tones, and all. He was a frightening creature in Hell. Even other Overlords stepped carefully around him; after all, he was known to trap prey larger than most his size could swallow.

Thus, when he heard the shrieks, the cries coming from a secluded little lakeside region, he was hardly surprised. They were lovely and full of abject terror with an edge of pain. Whoever it was sounded something like his victims, until he heard the begging break through.

“Why are you doing this to me? Please, please—”

The pleading, the questioning, those things happened, but were of a different flavor. There was rarely a “why me” since sinners all knew: the weak survived at the whim of the strong. “Why me?” Why not.

So the demon detoured to see who was making such a ruckus.

There was a large, rather dumb-looking demon of the sort he usually dismissed and they were leering over the smaller frame of someone shrinking in on themself.

This being had no hint of what had caused their demise, a rarity in Hell. They retained purely human, normal features. There was nary a hint of sin about them, their scent in the air a sharp contrast to the putrid fumes of the netherworld. Instead, there was something light, fresh, lovely about them despite the sharp tinge of terror. And rather than a certain tightness around the eyes, a darkness of character, they were almost… luminescent.

In the split second Alastor happened upon the lesser demon and his prey, he realized this was a soul that did not belong in Hell.

The lovely little morsel cowering on the ground screamed as claws rent through their clothes and into their flesh. The iron tang of blood cloyed the air. Alastor’s nose twitched. His fingers flexed. What he was about to do was quite uncharacteristic of him.

“What have we here?”

The other demon froze, undoubtedly familiar with that crackling voice. He glanced back, eyes wide in the shadow of his horns. “I, uh, I…”

Alastor stepped forward and extended a hand toward the huddled little saint. “This is no mere sinner to torment. Go.” He didn’t even have to look at the other demon; it fled without thought. “You poor soul. Where have you been hiding?”

You looked up with the most pathetically grateful eyes, tears still spilling over. “I don’t know where we are.”

“No?” Alastor lifted a brow, but was unsurprised. “How did you come here?”

‘I just woke up and…” you gestured around vaguely. “I don’t know what’s going on. That thing just– just attacked me and–” You broke off with a choked sob. You didn’t understand. You’d gone to bed last night in your room as usual and when you came to, you were in this nightmare that was far too real.

“My dear.” He paused and stared down at your baleful expression as though he could bore through to your soul. “You’re in Hell.”

You blinked, frowned. “What?”

“This is Hell and that monstrous beast was a demon bent on eating your soul.” He gave a gallic shrug. “One such as you, who must be an innocent mistakenly sent down for some small slight against Heaven, has no hope of surviving, I’m afraid.”

You sat up straighter, clasping your hands to beg. “But you saved me from him. What can I do–”

“You can do nothing.” He rolled his microphone staff in his fingers. “You are weak, I can sense it. You have no weapons at your disposal.” You sank back into yourself. “However, I might be persuaded to act as a protector.”

A shrewd twinkle appeared in your eyes and he found himself baring teeth in a smile. So you weren’t stupid, that much was clear. “Why?”

“Because you’re interesting.” He tipped his head and watched you consider.

“Are you a demon, too?” Oh, you were delightful.

His teeth glinted in the twilight. “My dear, we’re all demons here.”

“You’re not supposed to make deals with devils,” you insisted.

“Do you see another option?” He could go back and forth all day, but in the end he would get what he wanted.

You tapped your fingers against your leg. “Are you going to devour my soul or something?”

“The terms will be quite simple: you obey me and I protect you from any who might harm you.” He twirled his microphone again, nonchalant as could be.

“I won’t kill anyone or anything like that,” you insisted.

His smile widened. “I will ask nothing of you that is not in line with what you did while living.” And, oh, would he scour the book of your sins to find your absolute worst.

You thought about it for a moment, then nodded.

“Do we have a deal?” Alstor held out one gloved hand.

You swallowed through your fluttering heartbeat. “I’m probably going to regret this.” You extended your palm to his.

Thunder clapped and lightening crackled the air as your fate was sealed.

Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list for any followups

[cartoon-cass]

Comprehensive breakdown of MURDER DRONES - Episode 7: Mass Destruction

I saw a breakdown of this episode on youtube and it was just clearly rushed so I want to do this episode justice so here's my comprehensive breakdown.

New intro, look at them! They look so happy, that is not the case in the episode, to say the least. With how much rubber hosing this animation has I would not be surprised if this was done by Kevin Temmer Tunes with what he learned from amazing digital circus Edit: N was animated by Micah Preciado and Uzi by Zachary Preciado

Bad day to accidentally grab the wrong uniform, I do wonder where the actual Dr.Chambers was in all this. Wonder if it would have made a difference... probably not.

Not actually important but having the shadows of the claws that aren't actually there be the thing to interact with the world is fucking cool as hell. This whole scene is a cool twist on an exorcism with robots and science.

Like look at this, it's a pentagram magnet, a normal pentagram from my basic pop culture understanding it's meant to not only summon a demon but also keep them from leaving the circle. A strong magnet is so smart for this case as it's used to keep Nori in place, I mean it doesn't end up working in the end but it's the thought that counts.

It took my second watch of this episode to realize why the lights got turned on, it revealed the tentacles and claws but it's sun light, the same stuff that burns the Disassembly Drones and Uzi. It even has the same effect as in the end of Episode 4

Can I just say how extra it is making the USB a crucifix, I love it. Also I just notice that on the end of the crucifix the detailing is actually in the shape of a USB symbol, the details in this show is amazing, you can see all the love that went in to it.

This is probably the most terrifying way to hold these robots. I couldn't blame any of the robots for wanting to kill the human good god. Also Yeva playing Tetris, the game has a lot of ties to Russia so wonder if she spoke Russian too, she doesn't speak in this episode and not sure if we'll get more flashback with her so not sure if we will ever find out.

Not sure why Mitchell stop Yeva from entering the church but I like to think he thought Yeva was like a kid, look at him holding her hand in the scene before, and was trying to keep her save and knew something was off. That being said I'd love to hear what you think is his reasoning, sound off in the comments/reblogs.

Pulling back we can see Nori, specifically her core, looking at a crucifix comparing it to the USB crucifix in the video to see if it's the one with the patch, it's not, so she goes out for the hunt to see if she can find it.

Like daughter, like mother, honestly cool little details that lets us know what kind of character Nori is with the very little time we have with her. Drawing made presumably by her of herself as a human cat girl, twice, motor oil cans everywhere, a fricking ninja star, nightcore music, a anime statue that might be a reference to something but I have no clue, also magnets which have been used in the passed like drugs so that's um... something.

was originally just going to point out the funny little animation errors in this scene, as the paper goes through the Ipod and the crinkled paper is mirrored but then I wanted to check what was on the paper and...

It's a missing poster of all things? it uses the exact posters used in episode 3 it's probably just reusing assets but I thought it was a cool thing to point out.

Uzi bleeds blood in these scenes and it's not necessarily mentioned out loud, clearly something AS related, but there might be more to it, or it just looks cool.

This man is in some serious denial, but credit where credit is due, when "Tessa" tells N to stop he turns around, and when Uzi apologized for not being able to help he immediately apologized for Snapping at her. Also look at Tessa's little pointing, thought it was funny.

N: "We're not going to hurt you."

I can't blame Uzi for taking this the wrong way, he's clearly telling Tessa off but all Uzi hears is "hurt you", hence why she only parrots that part.

Thad: "Aaand you won't tell me why we're wandering around 'cause...?" Lizzy: "I'm a good friend, and secrets are blackmail. And it's not about football." Thad: "Okay. Does your secret friend want to know about football, or...?"

Anyone else wondering who Lizzy's good friend is? The only 2 characters we know are good friends with Lizzy are Doll and V. It's possible that through everything Doll sent a text to Lizzy asking her to do something but I feel like V just makes more sense. This does assume V made her way away from the sentinels, if I had to guess she's just a core at the moment which might be why she couldn't do it herself, no wings nor weapons as a core, also makes the blackmail line make more sense.

N: "I deserve this. I deserve this. I deserve this."

Baby girl NO! no you don't, your too hard on your self

That scream. That cut. *chef's kiss* perfect.

This scene just shows us why Uzi went towards the church. Also note when she's the most stressed her eye turns yellow so it does seem stress is the deciding factor whether she can be possessed.

V/AS: You know, you're one of the main reasons... [voice glitching] ...I wanted your team to retain your personalities.

This quote I think has some interesting implications, I mean it obviously confirms that the DD squad was influence by AS but it might also be why it keeps a bit of the personality of which ever host it's using.

This scene holy shit, the music, the lighting, the sound design and animation, that's how you do horror! You don't even need detailed gore, in fact most of it is just off screen. like look at the DD's off in the distance one catches the pilot of the helicopter mid air then they fight over it like hungry animals.

Ok so I hit the image limit and it's almost 1 in the morning so I'm gonna go to bed and continue this tomorrow

~to be continued~

[harunovella]

but baby i've already got your heart ; s.g.

synopsis: professor gojo was loved by all, a well rounded man with a bright smile and a personality students and staff swooned over... however, he holds a dark secret that comes out in the late hours of the night—or sometimes, in the shadows during the day—the feared ghost face. his next victim? his most beloved student: you.

cw: fem!reader, professor!gojo/ghost face!gojo, student!reader/victim!reader, yandere!gojo, obsession/manipulation, mentions of blood/murder (nothing too detailed, stalker!gojo, oblivious!reader (but... is she, really?), fingering (public indecency), unprotected sex, creampie/squirting, cock warming, possessiveness, dub con!, stealing/breaking and entering, non con photos (?), panty snatching/sniffing, threats, mentions of somnophilia but nothing happens, gojo is a straight up perv and has major red flags but the ladies love him anyway!, plot twist, MDNI 18+ PLEASE! (sorry if I miss any)

wc: 7k+

an: this was sm fun to write, I love ghost face and i love gojo... it's october so why not put them together?! anyway, here's to my first ever gojo fic! i love this man sm, I hope you all enjoy! title inspo...

Satoru Gojo was obsessed. At least, obsessed felt like an understatement. What he felt for you, deep within his damned soul, was a sensation unlike any other. Sure, he's had his fair share of pretty things to fawn over in an unhealthy manner... but you, you were something else. Something ethereal. A being unlike any other. He didn't know why, nor did he know how or when it struck him... maybe it was the moment he met eyes with you for the very first time, but the urge to keep you was overwhelming.

His cute, little assistant. His beloved (and favorite) student. He knew every little detail about you. The amount of classes you took, your extracurricular activities. Where you graduated from high school. Your grades, your GPA, the people you were friends with. Your favorite color, the shampoo and conditioner you used. Every bit of information, even where you lived. After all, an obsession with a new target wasn't uncommon for a man who hid behind a Ghost Face mask while committing mass murder.

Professor Satoru Gojo, the highly demanded teacher who used his good looks to his advantage, lived a double life. He was well known amongst the university folks. Professors and staff alike either envied or loved him. Students fawned over him, doing everything and anything in their power to get his attention. No matter what it took: playing dumb, dressing skimpy, batting their eyelashes... Of course Satoru knew what power he held, it was one of his many great tools to help him become the best at what he did. No one suspected him—the handsome man with snow white hair and crystal blue eyes—to be a psycho serial killer. Of course not, he was just so sweet and social. Much too loved for anyone to point fingers at him.

And like everyone before you—his victims—you fell into his trap. You fell for his kind words and suave actions. His gentle praises and soft touches. From the moment you first stepped foot into his classroom, with your baby blue tank top tucked into your white, tennis skirt... the matching cardigan and bright white sneakers, you truly were a rabbit in a wolf's den. It was impossible for him not to set his target on you, making you his next casualty. From the second you sat down at your desk to the moment he found out you were going to be his T.A., he knew he had to have you.

Satoru didn't spare a second in scheming. Plotting how to sugar you up, get you to drop your guard and to fall so easily into his knife—literally and metaphorically. It wasn't like he wanted to kill you, not yet, he just wanted to have fun. And you really looked like a good time with that lip gloss you wore and that sweet perfume you always sprayed on your neck and wrists—a scent that heightened his obsession.

His first week around you was getting to know you in the most subtle ways, casually asking you about your major and your schedule—for T.A. purposes, of course. That's how he learned your favorite study spot was under a specific tree in the open courtyard near the campus forest. How you hung out at the local cafe in the mornings with your best friends. He managed to learn your schedule so easily. You were such an open book to him, it must have been his pretty eyes that had you in a trance.

And that's how he spent his free time, lurking in the shadows in his beloved Ghost Face attire. His white mask, black hoodie and jeans, tied up boots and gloves. His lanky figure so easily hid behind the mass amount of towering trees on the campus.

Like how he was now, lurking behind the bushes and shrubbery, watching as you stood with your best friend—Nobara Kugisaki. As you were studying psychology, she was studying fashion but the two of you met in your shared photography class freshman year. (Yes, he knew every little detail even about how you made friends.)

The two of you were laughing, standing before one another as you held onto your notebook while Nobara was showing you something on her phone. The sound was music to his ears, a grin grew on his lips from behind his howling mask. Sure, he should have been grading mid-term exams, but how could he when his little assistant wasn't there to help? He knew you had a set schedule in which you followed, but that didn't mean you couldn't offer him some help on your free time. Instead of giggling over dumb videos, you should've been sat with him in his office, close enough for him to smell your intoxicating scent. Close enough for him to see the way your breasts pressed together when you were bent forward to review some of the papers you were helping grade. Close enough for him to feel your breath fanning his cheek.

Close enough for him to yank you down to your knees, unbuckle his belt and undo his pants so he could reach in and pull out his—

Loud laughter caused him to slip past the trees and away from the spot where he stalked. It was foolish of him to get dressed up and hide just to watch you in the middle of the day while the sun was out... but he couldn't help himself! Every second away from you was agonizing. He needed you there beside or even before him. There, so he knew no one else was getting in his way.

After all, he may have something to do with the disappearances of a few frat boys and other psychology majors... But no one needed to know that Ghost Face was behind that. Sure, the entity loved the attention—that's what everyone claimed whenever a corpse was found with a polaroid photo of Ghost Face and said victim was on the scene—but not when it could possibly lead back to him. He was very careful. Clean and cautious. Even with his brutal attacks and stabs, he never allowed himself to get carried away.

"So how's it been working alongside professor Gojo?" Nobara asked you as the two of you walked along one another. "You've made a lot of enemies out of that, y'know," she teased with a small snicker. "So many people want to be in your shoes. Everyone has a crush on him. Makes me wonder if you think he's hot?"

Bitting your inner cheek as you smiled, you then shook your head, "he's my supervisor and professor. But... I mean, I'm not blind. He's a very good looking man."

"Very good looking?" Nobara tilted her head.

"Okay, hot!" You laughed. "I mean, I work so close to him, I see and smell it all. Like, he dresses and smells so expensive... for a professor, even."

"Well, he is from the Gojo clan. One of the wealthiest families in all of Japan. Couldn't expect any less from a man like him. He, himself, looks pricey. As if he wasn't birthed but carefully crafted by all of the world's greatest fashion designers," Nobara waved a hand, earning another laugh from you.

For a bit longer you continued to talk, giggling about Gojo and then moving onto gossip Nobara had learned about within the few hours you've been on campus. After a while, you called it a day as you had to meet up with Gojo, telling Nobara you'd see her later, gaining the response of if you fuck him, Yuji owes me $100. This earned a gasp from you, but before you could even get a word out, Nobara rushed off.

"My favorite student!" Gojo exclaimed as you had walked into his office, greeting him with a kind smile and a small brown bag in your grip that you dangled. "Always feeding my sweet tooth," he beamed, taking the bag from you as you took your usual seat across from him, settling your bag down on the chair beside you. "Mochi from my beloved mochi," he happily sighed as he nearly swallowed the treats whole.

"Do I have to lecture you again about chewing your food?" You shook your head as you took the paper work from him that he had yet to touch. You knew the man very well, always keeping assignments stacked, whining about how he'd eventually get them done, only for you to complete them. "I swear, it's like your a child, Mr. Gojo."

"My little mochi cares about me," he batted his lashes from behind his silver rimmed glasses. You were used to the man wearing sunglasses indoors just as you were used to him calling you by treat names rather than your actual one. At one point you assumed he had forgotten your real name, but he easily proved you wrong... then proceeded to call you his little dango. "I won't die on you. Not by choking, that's for sure. How embarrassing," he scoffed before lifting his insanely long legs on his desk, crossing them at the ankle as he watched you work.

Moments like these where you were so focused and immersed in your grading, he took the opportunity to stare at you. You, being the oh so oblivious beauty you were, never called it out. Maybe you were used to it, maybe it was his sunglasses, but he was so obvious with the way he undressed you with his eyes. He wasn't even trying to hide it. The way he spotted your cleavage from your blouse, how your collarbones were just as exposed. The expanse of your neck... He found himself licking his lips then biting his tongue. Oh, how he'd love to sink his teeth into your body... just as much as he'd love to plunge a knife in you.

Well, maybe not that... maybe not yet... You were so youthful, so full of life. So dedicated to your schooling and friends. So loyal to him. Though, he tsked at your taste in men and may have paid a few a nice visit in the middle of the night... after all you belonged to him and only him.

"So I graded your midterm," he sang as you hummed back in response, eyes still glued on the assignments before you. "I am very proud of you, my little jelly bean."

"Is that so?" You smiled, still keeping your attention low, earning an annoyed eye roll from Gojo that you were unaware of.

"Yes," he breathed before lowering his feet and sitting properly at his desk. "I want to treat you," Gojo smirked. That got your attention.

"Oh, no. You shouldn't," you shook your head as you now eyed the frosted haired man before you.

"Oh... I should," he grinned. His pearly whites on display as his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose, exposing his sky blue eyes. "C'mon. I'm inviting you to dinner tonight to celebrate! You can't turn down you favorite, good looking, professor: Satoru Gojo!"

Smiling, you let out a small chuckle, "okay, fine! Let's go to dinner."

And that you did. Gojo had made you hurry up grading, giving you a time frame as he walked around his office and rearranged his shelves impatiently. You couldn't help but playfully roll your eyes at him, beyond used to his antics at this point after weeks of working so close to him. Once you were finished, Gojo so easily dragged you out of his space, away from the building it was situated in, and over to where his car was parked. He hadn't told you exactly where he had in mind, but when you arrived, you felt so underdressed. Of course, he reassured you with the good ol' no one denies a Gojo.

Dinner went smoothly, you had gone out a few times with him but strictly for lunch. You tried not seeing it any differently... even if the blue skies were replaced by endless stars.

"See? Wasn't so bad," Gojo smiled as the two of you stood in front of your apartment door. "I paid for the greatest dinner—and wine—you've ever had in your lifetime and I gave you a free ride home!" He gestured to your door as you shook your head.

"Mind you, you invited me and then insisted to take me home," you reminded as Gojo shrugged. "Thank you for dinner and the ride, get home safe, Mr. Gojo. I know you can take care of yourself, but, I wouldn't want to lose someone like you with what's going on."

Those words really did him wonders. The pang in his chest? How his heart fluttered? The way his face dropped for a split second just to pick back up that sneaky grin... You truly were worth keeping around for a bit. With those sweet words and that gorgeous face of yours... he couldn't dispose of you. Not yet. He needed you badly. And, luckily, you just lead the big bad wolf to your front door. "Good night, my sweet cinnamon bun."

"Good night, professor," you chuckled before unlocking your door, walking in, and shutting it behind you.

Standing there with his hands deep in his pockets, he eyed his surroundings before squatting. Lifting your welcome mat, searching the twin pots that sat parallel to your front door, he then found your spare key hidden within the soil. "Oh, sweetheart... you're too easy..."

After a nice shower, changing into your cozy pajamas and drinking a nice cup of sleepy-time tea, you found yourself deep into your slumber. You were quite exhausted from the school day, Gojo also knew how to drain the energy from you with his excitement and never ending flow of words that spilled out of his mouth. But, you didn't mind, he was a kind man and he kept you entertained.

Grateful for his light footsteps for such a lanky body, Gojo pulled your door shut behind him as he eyed his surroundings. Like the genius murder he was, he made a copy of your spare care before placing the original back. Then, snatched his hidden items, pulled on his all black ensemble and mask, and made his way back to your home. He had hoped you would've invited him in earlier, but maybe you had enough of him for the day... or you were being cautious since he was your supervisor and it wouldn't be wise to have him in your personal living space.

Whatever, he thought. He used the moonlight to help guide him around your home. Eyeing the set up, remembering all the windows and the balcony. Keeping track of where he could and couldn't slip through by checking weak locks. He then eyed your belongings. The photos and art you kept around. Wasn't a whole lot, but they were there.

Quietly checking doors, finding a closet and bathroom, he then spotted your bedroom. The door was closed, much to his dismay. He had hoped you were asleep, not wanting to make his presence known just yet. Sighing, he slowly, and quietly twisted the knob and pushed the door open. Perfect, he grinned from behind his mask. You were dead asleep, resting on your side as you were curled up into a ball. Cute. Taking out his phone, he snapped a few shots of you sleeping. Up close and from afar, getting sight of your bedroom, too.

Taking a step back, he eyed his surroundings before gently pulling drawers open and pushing them closed. A section for pajamas, folded t-shirts, gym wear... your panties... His grin grew bigger as he rustled through it, spotting your lace numbers and thongs. It made him wonder what you had worn that night. Quietly closing the drawer and turning on his heel, he went over to your hamper and pushed pieces of clothing to a side, only to find a little black number.

Sniffing it before stuffing it into his pocket, he decided to call it a night.

That one would be the first of many.

Days of breaking in turned into weeks. Gojo was strategic about it, coming in at the late hours he knew you were asleep. And if you were out? He was hurt. However, it didn't stop him from stealing more of your items and rearranging others. He wanted to test you, see if you would pick up on the changes. You may be a bit oblivious, but you were a smart girl. He was too good at what he did, maybe that's why you never noticed... or maybe you had? He wouldn't know. It wasn't like you'd confide in your beloved professor about little things like that, would you?

Maybe it was time he made his presence known. After all, he had enough of playing with his food.

The sound of something toppling over made you jolt in your sleep. Usually, you were a heavy sleeper, but after noticing little things around your home being moved—like your jewelry or your framed photos—you had been a bit on edge lately. You had told Nobara about it, but she said it probably was a ghost that's haunting your place. You weren't really a believer, but you also weren't a non-believer.

However, you hated how Nobara wasn't wrong. It wasn't an actual, supernatural being. Not a legit ghost that was of an entity lurking... no, more like, a living being hiding behind a ghost mask.

You had gone to check on what had fallen, searching your little apartment to see nothing was out of place. A sense of relief had washed over you, more than ready to go back to bed... but the ghost thought otherwise.

An arm wrapped around your waist as a hand covered your mouth and more. It was large, just enough to block your nose, too, if they wanted. You instantly panicked, thrashed around and tried to free yourself, but the person before you was much too strong and instead pushed you onto your bed before aiming a hunting knife at your throat. "Now, now, I wouldn't cause a ruckus if I were you, sweetheart."

Gulping at the towering figure before you dressed in all black, a howling mask covering their face, you clutched onto your bedsheets as you tried to stay still. Your heart was racing and tears filled your eyes. You could kick him, maybe try and use something you learned in self defense classes... but the knife at your neck and the mask before you had you too stunned.

"You're so pretty, I couldn't kill ya..." he sighed through the voice modulator. "But a little prick..." piercing your skin lightly as a dribble of blood pooled up, the intruder watched you wince with a chuckle. "Hmm... that should do it for me for now..."

"I— I don't have much but you— you can take my money or— or my jewelry—"

"Nah, I don't want any of that shit," he waved a hand nonchalantly before he swiftly leaned into you, causing you to gasp at the sudden action. "I'm not superficial. I have my eyes on something else instead..."

Watching as he leaned his face into your neck as he took in a rather loud inhale, sniffing your scent, you shivered once again as you squeezed your eyes shut for a moment. "Take whatever, please, just leave... leave me alone..."

Snickering as he pulled his head away, Ghost Face sighed as he was pressing one knee in between your legs. "Can't do that... don't wanna disturb the peace too much, y'know?"

Opening your eyes, you furrowed your brows. "Wh— What?"

"Well, I can't take what I want because, well... you live here and I don't wanna kidnap you or anything. That's no fun," he shook his head as you blinked, gulping at his words. He wanted... you? But why?!

"Me? No— Why? Why do you want me?" You shook your head, crawling back, only for him to catch your ankle and drag you back, mask nearly pressing into your face as you flinched.

"You're just so... perfect," he grinned—you knew he did from within the mask. "I'll see you around, cutie." Patting your cheek a bit too roughly with his leather glove covered hand, the intruder slipped away, deep into the shadows and disappeared from your sight.

It was a nightmare. It wasn't real. It was a dream. It was something your mind conjured. That's what you told yourself the days that followed that night. You were shaken up but told no one. You weren't sure if it had been true or not. It could've been some sort of sleep paralysis. A vivid dream? In reality, you couldn't even remember much... it was far too blurry, it was late into the night, maybe you hallucinated.

You carried on with life, not letting whatever that was stop you. You'd have to do some research. You were a psych major, there had to be something out there. Being a good student and an assistant was your top priority, whatever the hell that was, you would put it in the back seat. You didn't need to ponder too much on it... even if... you felt like you were constantly being watched.

"Hey, KitKat, you've been out of it lately. You're not all there during my lectures or, well... now," Gojo frowned as he leaned over you from behind.

You were seated at his desk, aimlessly staring as you weren't even bothering with the assignments before you. You felt his presence behind you as he had bent at the hip, head coming into view beside you. "Sorry... it's just..." sighing, you rubbed your face. "I don't know, I feel like I'm being watched. Maybe I'm paranoid... Maybe I watch too many scary movies before bed," you awkwardly chuckled as you turned your head to look at him.

"Let me take you out to dinner to get your mind off of things," he said, standing up straight with his hands buried in his slacks. "Food is always a good pick me up. I can also take us out to get ice cream!" He beamed as you softly smiled.

"I appreciate it—"

"No buts!" He lifted a finger. "Dinner, dessert... and a movie! Yes, I know there's a new movie I've been dying to see," Gojo said with a nod, already planning the evening. "I won't be taking a no for an answer, biscuit."

Sighing, you settled your work down. "Okay..."

"It'll be so worth it, trust me," he winked before pushing his sunglasses back. "You'll have the best night ever."

Gojo wasn't lying when he uttered those words to you with such promise and excitement. Yet again, he took you to a restaurant where the food made your taste buds explode from the feast. Everything was delicious and more, almost enough to keep your mind busy. Almost. You were still a bit on edge, your little sporadic smiles fading away every time your mind wandered off and looked blankly out the window.

However, being at the movie theater was different. There really wasn't anywhere to look out at and think so deeply, nor was there time to ponder over was it real or not when you were alone with your supervisor. When you were alone with the Satoru Gojo.

He knew what he was doing. He started off with gentle caresses to your exposed knee. Comforting touches to keep your mind at ease—or, probably not. Not with what he had in mind. He knew he was the cause of your paranoia, but boy if it wasn't fun toying with your emotions. Being the one to break you down and build you up. It made his blood rush straight to his now semi-hard cock.

You didn't stop the feather-like touches from their movements up your thigh. A part of you knew it was wrong, but a bigger part of you was begging for anything to keep your mind busy. The movie wasn't enough, though it was quite the comedy, you still needed more to keep your mind... well, empty. If that was what was going to help you.

Placing your hand on his as you inched it closer to your heat, you felt his eyes on you within the darkness of the theater before you turned your focus. Meeting his, you leaned over and closed the gap separating you two. You weren't so sure what possessed you, what made you so bold, but you were desperate. Needy for anything. Anything to help you forget.

Your subtle kiss of gentle pecks turned into tongues meeting and breaths fanning. You guided his fingers higher before you removed your hand to let him do the rest. Reaching over to clutch the back of his neck as you felt his long fingers slip under you panties, you scooted closer and parted your knees further.

He couldn't stop smiling. God, this was what he was aching for for so long. To finally taste your lips, to feel your drenched pussy against his fingertips. All because you needed to forget about his alter ego. He wondered, would you have done this with another man if he wasn't around? He didn't like the thought. All you needed was him and only him. No other man could satisfy you like he could. After all, he was the one who lead you to this point and he was going to go all the way. Fuck with your mind just like he knew he was going to fuck your tight pussy.

Your breathing quickened as you felt his long fingers tease you, his middle pushing into your hole as you hooked your leg over his to feel more. Gojo used his free hand to hold your jaw as his tongue licked into your mouth. Every chance he got to pull away, your saliva would keep you two connected before snapping and staining your chin. And every time he pulled away, he was always so quick to push his tongue back in—just like his fingers. Two of them now fucking in and out of you.

There was no point in watching the movie anymore, your entertainment was Gojo's tongue and skilled fingers. Maybe it was working, after all, your brain was slowly turning into mush as you felt yourself climaxing.

It didn't take long for you to move it to your bedroom. You left the movie before it ended, rushing to his car as he brought you home. You tugged him in by the collar of his shirt as you brought his lips to yours once again. A trail of clothes lead to your bed as Gojo found himself fully naked before your own nude body. He so eagerly ate your pussy like it was his last meal, lapping up your juices and fucking your hole with his tongue, explicit moans leaving both of you. Your thighs were covered up in bites and bruises, and your hips would soon be covered in his fingertips aftermath.

"I told you you'd have the best night ever," Gojo breathed as he thrusted deeply into you, his tip kissing your cervix with every languid movement of his hips. He smiled down at you, white locks hanging over his eyes as his cheshire cat grin was all you could see. A hint of his hungry, lustful eyes peeking through his bangs as he held onto the back of your knees. "Aren't I the best professor? I truly care for my favorite student, hmm? I give her the best one-on-one session..." he breathed.

Clutching onto your bed sheets as sweat clung to your body while moans left your parted lips, you couldn't form coherent sentences. "Mmh... Best... Best— Oh, Mr. Gojo—"

"Please," he shook his head before leaning in, lips hovering yours as he continued to fuck into you deeply, "call me Satoru."

"Satoru," you cried as your eyes squeezed shut the moment you felt his finger rubbing your sensitive clit. "Please— I'm gonna— Oh— There!" You whined as he continued his ministrations, grinning at the sight of you coming undone for a third time before him. You were practically drooling, hair in disarray, skirt flipped over your stomach, panties shoved in the back pocket of his slacks, blouse and bra long gone to leave your bouncing breasts on display—one of his many canvases covered in his bites.

He should've been gentle with you, sure, but he did promise you the best night... and what was love making going to do for you when raw fucking was going to make you go completely brainless?

You had never come like that in your life. You stained your sheets and your essence was all over Satoru's skin. He had never been prouder to fuck you so good you soaked him, too. He just wished it was all over his face instead... He'll get there eventually. Maybe a certain homicidal maniac should pay you a visit soon for some fun?

"'m gonna fill you up so good, 'kay? Make you my very own sweet treat with my seed spilling out of you, mhm? God, the most exquisite little thing ever," he breathed as he felt his abdomen tighten, his grip on you tightening to the point you whimpered as he came. It was almost endless, he fucked you slowly, ropes and ropes filling you up before Gojo let go of your legs and nearly collapsed on top of you. He stayed inside of you, even when he went soft. He couldn't seem to pull out, the feeling of being buried within you was much too wonderful to remove himself from. "You feeling better?" He breathed against your ear before biting on the soft skin below it.

"Mhm..." you hummed with a weak nod and hooded eyes, unable to keep them open. "So... so much... better..." you breathed, eyes falling closed as Gojo sat up enough to eye you, giving your lips a small kiss before sucking on your bottom lip, then pulling away.

"My pretty, little, peach," he smiled, kissing your chin and neck, slowly pulling out as a small whimper left you. Leaning back to watch his fill leak out of you, Gojo swiped up and pushed in as much as he could before pressing the rest on your tongue—in which you lazily lapped up with closed eyes.

You were exhausted, completely spent and full of him. He was filled with a sense of pride. His favorite muse all covered in him. His kisses, his bites, his saliva and anything in between. You were all his. Finally.

Eyeing your now resting figure as you so easily passed out, Gojo quietly stood up and cleaned himself up before he so kindly wiped you up—not after snapping a few photos of your leaking hole, bruised skin, and swollen lips (featuring your tear stained cheeks!) with his phone. Proud of his work, he fixed himself, zipped up his pants and readjusted his shirt. Staring at you for a bit, a sigh of defeat left him as he pulled off your skirt and tossed it to a side before slipping under your bedsheets with you.

He could go for a round two and fuck your sleeping body—he was sure you wouldn't mind—but he had exhausted you as it was. He was feeling generous. So, he stayed rested with you for a bit as you curled into him. He watched you sleep for what felt like hours before he left a few kisses on your lips and slipped away.

Leaving a note on your nightstand, caressing your face and stealing one last kiss, Gojo left your apartment satisfied and satiated.

For now.

The two of you acted like nothing happened. At least, out in the open. When you were attending his lectures or greeting one another in public, you kept things civil—like how they were before. To say you were nervous or embarrassed at first was an understatement. You were worried. Afraid you crossed the line... however... the very next day when you were back on campus said otherwise. And every day after that when you found yourself with your legs spread, pussy bare and getting absolutely devoured by Gojo at his desk in his office. Of course, it was a two way street. You made sure his aching length got equal attention from your small mouth and tight throat, letting him fuck your face and come all over it.

There were plenty of instances where his seed dripped down your cheeks or leaked out of your mouth. Just like there were many times where Gojo's lips glistened with your juices.

It had been so long. At least it felt like it. Maybe Gojo and your classes really kept your mind busy you had nearly forgotten about him. Your unfriendly, neighborhood, stalker. Murderer. Homicidal maniac. You name it.

You didn't dream it. You didn't hallucinate it. He was very much real and he was very much standing before you in your tiny living room. "Little kitten has claws," Ghost Face said as you stood your ground, clutching a kitchen knife. "Oh, baby... I missed you."

"I didn't miss you," you nearly whispered, trembling in your spot.

"But... didn't you? I'm sure you thought about me every single day. The big bad man who breaks into your home, lurks in the shadows... steals your panties," those words instantly made you flustered as your eyes widened. He took a mental note of that. "Oh, yeah, your missing panties? All belong to me know. You know, you've got a lovely scent. I can only imagine how that pussy tastes—"

"Stay back!" You exclaimed, lifting the knife, but the masked murderer laughed.

"Oh, Bambi, I know you have a very creative mind. Haven't you been curious about me? Haven't you imagined what it's like to get fucked by a murderer? Plenty of women fantasize about it. It's a common role play," he said with a nod as you bit your tongue. "Here, we can act it out! I promise, if you go along, you won't die tonight," he said as he lifted a gloved hand, lifting his index finger as he inched closer to you.

"You're— You're insane," you shook your head.

"I'm very well aware of that," he shrugged. "But, is it insane to want to stay alive? C'mon, that tight, little pussy wants to get wrecked by my fat cock. Just say the words," he sung as you shook your head. "Don't be such a fucking brat." Lunging forward as you gasped, he knocked the knife out of your grip before tugging your head back by your hair. Lifting his mask just enough, his lips crashed onto yours. A hint of mint lingering as his tongue dove into your mouth, feeling your walls and tasting you. You squirmed, tried to put up a fight and push him away, but he was much too strong.

Suddenly, a hiss left you as the tip of his knife made contact with your cheek. A small slice followed by his wet tongue licking away your droplets of blood made you shiver.

"Mmm," he hummed as he lowered his mask and let go of your hair before slumping forward. "Your mouth and blood, wow!" He nodded before lifting his index and thumb to form an okay with them. "So, what's your answer? Gonna let me fuck you raw? Gonna live for another day? I think it's an easy yes, hmm? Nothin' like a good ol' dickin' down to get you through the night. So easy."

"I am not... going to die... by your filthy hands," you breathed with the cutest mean face you could muster.

God, you were a keeper. "Then... I guess fucking it is!" He cheered as you winced.

That's how you found yourself underneath a masked man with his dick drilling into your poor pussy. You reminded yourself why you were there, why you would... agree? to this. He fucked into you like a jack hammer, fully clothed and enjoying the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing him so.

You kept your eyes focused elsewhere, trying to imagine it as anyone else, as someone you actually wanted. Like Gojo. But... you'd be lying if you said... it didn't feel good. The way his hips gyrated and rocked. How his cock pounded into you in an unholy manner. How the mystery of the man behind the mask somehow enticed you.

It was wrong, so wrong. You hated this. You did. You didn't want this. You didn't want this. But why... why did it feel so good?

Before you could reach your climax, the mystery man slotted his face in between your legs, lifting his mask enough to lick and fuck your pussy. His teeth making you shiver, his tongue thrusting and tasting your wetness. How he nearly bit your clit as you shrieked. He shifted between his fingers and tongue, overstimulating you and your sensitive nub as you clung onto your pillow. He chased your orgasm with a menacing snicker against your slick folds, enticing your release, fucking your hole so hard that you'd squirt all over him—just as he wanted.

The pants that left your body, the heavy breaths and the discomfort—yet relief—you felt were all consuming as the man stayed between your thighs. He was in the midst of licking his lips and lapping up whatever else he could from your orgasm, too focused on being drunk off of your pussy to even realize you were reaching towards him.

Reaching for his mask and just about to snatch it off, Ghost Face was quick to catch on. Moving away from you and reaching for the knife he had sheathed while fixing his mask, he gripped the hilt and aimed it at your heart as his voice boomed, "don't you fucking try that again or I'll fucking gut you like a fish, got that, whore?!"

Nodding profusely as tears so easily streamed down your face, the man stood from your bed and fixed his pants before sheathing his knife once again, watching you tremble and cry as you cowered away.

He was livid, beyond furious. He let his guard down and you almost revealed him? You were asking to get your throat slit.

He had to be careful around you.

He didn't want to kill you, not you, you were too fun. He was growing attached. So he slipped out of your home like a ghost once again and left you there to sob. The kill count for that evening would be the highest, the news would spread in the morning and you'd feel the guilt of the innocent lives taken on your shoulders.

"Can you stay the night...?" You shyly asked Gojo as he had come over on one of the sporadic nights you two would meet in secret. "I know you shouldn't but with a serial killer on the loose and going on a rampage as of late—"

"No need to explain," he said as he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer, kissing the top of your head as he did so. "I know it hasn't been easy for everyone. I wouldn't let anything happen to you, doughnut."

Giving him a weak smile, you nuzzled his chest. Your empty takeout containers sat at your coffee table as an old movie from a few decades back played on your TV. "Thank you, Satoru."

"Anything for you," he sweetly spoke as you looked up at him. Those mesmerizing eyes and those dazzling teeth... He was so handsome it truly hurt.

Leaning up to kiss him, you moved a leg over his lap to straddle him. The blanket you two shared fell over as you wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. Your tongue meeting his as his large hands gripped your ass and massaged the weight in his palms.

Running your fingers through his hair before sliding them down his neck, you unbuttoned his dress shirt further than it already was, slipping your hands beneath the cotton fabric. Feeling his toned chest and warm skin, you brought your lips down his throat, leaving a trail of red blotches along the way to his pecks, hearing his breathing increase.

Your hands found their way to the bulge protruding from his black slacks, massaging his trapped length with your palm as Gojo slid his own hand between your thighs. He could feel the wetness the pooled on your panties, teasing your aching cunt through the thin material as you began to rock your hips against him.

Quiet pleads left either of you as you undid his belt and zipper, pulling out his length as you began to pump his leaking cock with your tiny fist. Gojo pulled your panties down before letting them snap into place as you yelped. Dipping his hand into the thong you wore, he slid his fingers along your wetness, moaning at both your touch and the slick between his fingers.

Pulling his hand out as he sucked on his index and middle, you watched him with hungry eyes, whining and begging him to fuck you with them. Without hesitation, he slid his hand back in, fucking your pussy with little resistance as you jerked him off.

Pumping each other as you both moaned and hissed at the sensation at an incoming orgasm, the two of you pressed your foreheads together as you chased your mutual releases, coming into each others palms with heavy breaths. You watched as he licked his fingers clean once again, groaning at your taste before you leaned down to give his head kitten licks, teasing him before standing to your feet and tugging him with you to your bed.

"I've got an idea..." you said in a rather sultry voice, giving Gojo a wink before you pushed him onto your bed. Tugging off his pants and removing his shirt, you got him down to nothing but bare skin as you then reached into your nightstand and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

"Oh?" Gojo arched an eyebrow as you bit your bottom lip. "What do you have in mind?"

"I just... wanna try something with you..." you batted your lashes, playing innocent. "I wanna cuff you to my bed and fuck you... please?"

Eyeing you as his heart raced and cock twitched, he grinned, "I can't deny my sweet girl..."

Smiling happily, you straddled him and cuffed his wrists, then leaned in to whisper in his ear, "maybe I'll let you eat my pussy, too."

"Fuck, I'd love nothing more for you to ride my face," he breathed, watching you giggle as you pulled away from him.

"Okay, I've got another surprise," you nodded. "Close your eyes for me, 'toru."

Closing his eyes with an eager grin, excited for what else you had in store, Gojo felt his insides twist from anticipation. "You've got me feeling like I'm about to get the greatest treat."

"Oh, you will... You'll get your just desserts."

Furrowing his eyebrows, he opened his eyebrows, "huh?"

"Look familiar?" You tilted your head, holding up a mask in one and and a knife in the other. Not just any mask and knife—a Ghost Face mask and a hunting knife. His mask. His knife. "Oh, it does, doesn't it?"

"What— What the fuck—"

Seeing the look of pure shock on Gojo's face, you shook your head. "Don't play dumb," leaning in, you aimed his knife at his throat. "Didn't think I'd know? You always think you're ten steps ahead. Smarter than everyone. But, even you, the worlds smartest serial killer, have your own slip ups."

"Baby, angel, sweetheart— I— I have no idea what you're talking about!" He panicked, shaking his head and tugging at the cuffs that kept him tied down. "Please! What— What're you—"

Pricking the skin on his neck—just like he did to you—you then brought the knife to his cheek and pressed against the skin before sliding down. "How does it feel to be on the other side?"

"I— I don't know what the hell you're talking about?! You're freaking me—"

"Great," you sighed. "I guess I'll have to paint the picture for you."

It was 6 months ago. You remembered it so easily. You were working on your final assignment for your Intro to Photography class—one you shared with your best friend, Nobara, as to get some electives out of the way. You loved nighttime photos, always finding them to be your best. At the park, the beach, abandoned malls and late nights at supermarkets. Then you tried your campus, knowing the university grounds had some nice landscapes and views.

You didn't expect to see much action. Students had late classes but not that late. You had showed up ten till midnight, wanting some good photos of the moon and pretty reflections off of surfaces. Truly, you were just going to snap some photos and call it a night. Security was around, you weren't too scared of being alone.

However, you weren't really alone.

It must've been the wrong place at the wrong time. You had seen it, the lanky man in the distance. He didn't notice you as you were crouched behind bushes, getting photos of the courtyard. Your camera had zoomed in on him. The tall figure dressed in all black, almost in a rush. He carried something in his grip, you weren't sure.

So you followed.

You quietly kept your distance when you realized who it was. Professor Gojo. Why had he been there so late? What was he doing? Stopping behind a tree as you watched him enter the building, you spotted the light of an office space turn on as you zoomed in again. You watched as he shut his door behind him, the crack in his blinds giving you enough to see. He unlocked a drawer and slid it open before lifting a mask and a... bloody knife?

Your heart skipped a beat.

He settled both in the drawer before removing the gloves he had on. Black and leather. Your mind was racing, thoughts being assumed. You quickly hid yourself again before slipping away and rushing as fast as possible before he or anyone could spot you.

"It all made sense," you said as you recited that night. "It was no coincidence. You grew obsessed with me not too long after. I wondered if you knew, but I guess not. Maybe you're the oblivious one here and I just acted the part..." you shrugged, eyeing his knife as you lifted it from his neck. "You know... you may have a voice modulator to cover you... but, you think I wouldn't notice other things? The way you fucked me? The way you ate my pussy? Crazy, I know, it's the little things. But I noticed..." looking down at his hip bone and pointing at a scar, you nodded, "yeah... I noticed the scar and I spotted it when a sliver of your skin appeared from your Ghost Face attire...

"Then, of course, the way you kissed me. When you lifted your mask just enough, I noticed the little wisps of white. You really aren't that smart, now, huh?" You chuckled as the horrified man before you bit down roughly and furrowed his eyebrows.

"What the fuck do you want from me?" He seethed as you smiled.

"Oh, a psych major like me is really lucky, I guess. Getting into the world of criminology and having the feared Ghost Face killer right before me? Maybe I'm lucky. Maybe I'm a bit insane. I mean, I got to pull this off for half a year..." you trailed as Gojo squinted his eyes. "What I want to know is..." you leaned in before tapping his forehead with the hilt of his knife, "what goes on in this twisted, psychotic mind of yours, Satoru Gojo," you smiled. "Or, really, should I say... Ghost Face?"

an: I didn't really mention it but I guess I should say it in case y'all are wondering... reader managed to snatch his mask and knife bc she knew where he kept them hidden and being his TA, she more than likely studied him like he studied her and figured where the key to the drawer was! anyway, this was sm fun to write, I wanted to write some "horror" au's for this month so here's my first! no part two, sorry, but... I personally like to think these two psychos team up and go absolutely feral on the world? I mean... we got the murderer and the brains, what a power couple— anyway, what do you all think? How do you think things would go? would one of them die? would he get caught? idk it's really a free for all kinda ending

[heaven4lostgirls]

You’re my happy place

husband!elijah mikaelson x wife!fem!reader

tags: fluff, happy ending, soft!elijah

a/n: if u guys even read this pls pls pls send me requests for fics u want me to write!! ok enjoy<3

You had spent the entire day at the compound waiting for Elijah and Nik to get back. They had gone on some stupid witch hunt again because Nik believed that the witches were plotting against him as usual.

You sat on the floor of the compound playing with baby hope when you hear the hurried footsteps of the two brothers and the stench of blood nearly made you vomit on the spot.

You hurriedly put Hope back in her cot before running to see if anyone was hurt. Nik looked like he had just committed mass murder but by the look in his eyes you knew better than to ask him what had happened. All you did was beckon hun closer and take a look to see if any of his injuries were major, thankfully he just looked like he had a bruised ego.

To the left of his Elijah stood in a ski liar state however he seemed to be clutching his side. You knew whenever Nik would put himself in dangerous situations your idiot of a husband would not be far behind, always looking out for his little brother.

You made your way to him slowly whilst looking over him to see if anywhere else seemed to be causing him pain, once it looked like his side was the only place he seemed to be clutching you sighed in relief.

As you reached him you carefully placed your hands on his face, he seemed to be avoiding your eyes and you somehow knew exactly why.

“Is that blood Eli?” You questioned harshly, you knew that when you both moved to New Orleans that the witch community wasn’t exactly fond of the Mikaelson family however the lacerations on Elijahs side didn’t seem to be healing and this has been an all time low for them, never had the witches hurt them so badly they couldn’t heal it. You were on relatively good terms with all of the witches however seeing your husband in this state all you could hear was your heart pounding and your blood boiling.

Elijah looks almost embarrassed as he utters a small “No?” You sigh and shake your head with a small smile, your husband would always be the one trying to make you laugh even if he did seem like he was bleeding out.

“That isn’t normally a question you answer with another question darling” all he does is smile back innocently.

“Cmon let’s get you cleaned up” you motion for him to sit on the couch as Hayley ends up attending to Nik as he grumbled about the ‘stupid witches’. You just sigh and look at Elijah pointedly

“You can’t keep running head first into ever fight that Nik picks so you can save him, it’s not safe” you tell him as you brush his hair out of his face to clean the small scratches surrounding his eyes.

“I know my love, he’s my brother, I simply can’t let him get himself in trouble, I made a vow to my mother to always protect him and it is what I plan to do as long as I’m alive, alongside you of course” you can’t help but smile at his loyalty to his family, you know it hasn’t been easy for him and Nik to gain back their mutual trust of one another especially after decades of daggers and heartbreak however for the most part they seem to have moved past all of that.

“I love you Eli, I can’t stand to see you hurt” He can feel your worry and although he and you both know he will continue to put himself in harms way to save Nik he hugs you and mumbles affirmations that he will try harder and be safer when he travels with Nik. You can’t ask for much more and you know that so as you both make your way to Freya’s room so that she can heal Eli’s wounds you squeeze his hand as a reminder he’s okay and Freya will most likely know how to heal him.

After the quick visit of Freya healing his wounds and researching about the kind of magic used by the witches that was somehow strong enough to hurt an original you both lay in you shared room.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we were never turned?” You turn to him in confusion, you had been one of the first vampires that Elijah had turned after his mother had used to spell however even after decades of being together you always thought that you were both content with how life was. “Sometimes, but I am quite happy with how we are right now…Are you not?” You admit and question almost insecurely.

As if Elijah has read your thoughts he backtracks “No no no, my love I just meant that I would have wished for us to have a family of our own, little children for us to take care of and I am sorry that I can’t give that to you” you feel tears welling up at the thought of what your life could have been. You grasp Elijah’s face in your hands and assure him that you are perfectly happy with how things have played out.

“Even if you hadn’t turned me with you Elijah I would have been heartbroken to see you outlive me, you have been my rock and compass our entire lives, seeing you daggered by Niklaus only ever brought great heartache to me, so please don’t think for a moment that this life has not been more than enough, I will always choose you over and over again my love” You can feel his smile as you rest your head on his chest.

“Do you remember the 20’s? Where we had gone to that jazz club with Niklaus? We had just changed our names and anytime someone spoke to us we would make up elaborate stories of where we came from, we spent the entire night dancing and once we got home you told me that you loved me and that you wish we could have had that life-“

“You proposed to me that night and promised you would show me the world”

“I plan to keep that promise everyday we have each other”

“I love you Elijah Mikaelson”

“I love you more Y/N Y/L/N”

[almightygremlinblob]

In Every Life (AFAB Ver.)

In which Sukuna falls in love with the Reader without realizing it.

Word Count: 5, 283 of slow burn. ⚠️Content Warnings⚠️: Not Beta Read, True Form Sukuna, Heian Era, Sukuna fluff, soft Sukuna, mentioned cannibalism, slight angst, Sunshine AMAB!Reader but gender neutral expressions used, Reader is not a sorcerer and is implied to be the only non-sorcerer of her village. Minors and ppl not okay with anything sexual pls DNI and have a nice day 👍🏽 AMAB!Reader (with gender-neutral pronouns) here

⚠️Further Content Warnings⚠️: Virgin!Sukuna, Sub!Sukuna, Reader and Sukuna both switch from gentle doms to subs, soft & fluffy sex, very messy sex, size difference, Reader makes out with the tummy mouth, squirting, lots of cum, cock worship, lots of fluids in general, belly bulge, lots of mouths, consensual blood drinking, this is getting worse the more I write lmao. THIS IS NOT BETA'D and I am very tired while editing this. SO! If you spot any mistakes, esp. with the body parts of Reader lmao (since I made two of these), pls tell me!

You were happy you managed to catch the attention of the King of Curses.

Sure, you didn't exactly know how you did it. You weren't strong, or exceptionally beautiful like the sons and daughters offered to him. You weren't even that smart!

You were clueless, as a matter of fact!

So clueless that, nearly a month ago, you gave the strange looking man with four arms a warm meal and a place to stay for the night - since it didn't seem like the storm would let up any time soon. He was pretty much shunned by the rest of the village upon his arrival…probably due to the overwhelming energy that sent people into fight or flight…but he was just born different!

Probably.

"What's your name, Mister?"

"…"

You quickly learned that he didn't speak much, and he does not like to be looked at. Only watching as you go about your day - trying your best to navigate through the judgement and, frankly, abuse of the other villagers; ever as judgemental about you as they were likely to talk down on you, spread rumors and try to take advantage of your endless kindness. Not that it worked, though - and for that, everyone pretty much hated you. Despite his silence, your visitor was the only one that seemed to regard you without any ounce of hatred.

Then, one day…

"Why do you entertain them?"

"Ah!" You visibly jumped at that moment - up until now you were certain he couldn't speak. His voice was lovely baritone, but held a quiet authority - much like him…and a very clear evil but you wouldn't dwell too much on that. "M-me? Oh…of course, me…"

"U-um…I'm not entirely sure, actually. I don't like them, b-but…" Those sharp, piercing eyes are distant, scanning the forest as you tried to think of a reason. "I-I guess they're my neighbors. Friends? No. But it wouldn't be right to just outright ignore them."

"Hmph, of course…" He scoffs, and rolls his eyes. "You people and your morals…"

"Do you not have friends?"

"No."

"Oh…" Your shoulders slump slightly. "Then, consider me your first friend!"

"No."

"Oh…"

When you visibly deflate, he laughs lightly, shaking his head as if he's heard something utterly ridiculous. "Why does that bother you? You hardly know me. I could be a mass murderer for all you know."

"Because you…you're…" You think for a while, before finding the right words. "One of the most unique people I've ever had the blessing of meeting."

His eyes finally land on you. "Blessing, huh?"

------

Eventually, the villagers turned violent towards you and your guest, but you did your best to keep him safe - urging him to leave, quickly. It was that day, when you were nearly beaten to death, that you learned the strange man's name.

"Die, you peasant!" There was something in the way these villagers attacked. A strange energy that made it hurt all the more. You were bloodied, bruised and beaten to the point you couldn't even find the strength to scream. A blade was pointed to your throat. "Any last words?"

Despite yourself, you manage to spit at him.

"I didn't think you had it in you." That familiar low voice, low and uninterested, sounds from behind you both. Then, before your very eyes, everyone was somehow cut to pieces. No screams, or cries…just the sounds of flesh and bone being cut apart. You were probably hallucinating...

You see your guest walk beside you - the gore, guts and limbs not affecting him in the slightest.

"Ah, you're okay…" His eyes land on you again. "B-be careful…t-there's an invisible…invisible something that's cutting people up…"

He scoffs. "And if I told you that was me?"

"What."

"Tsk." He promptly grabs you and, without you even realizing, your wounds begin healing, closing up, and suddenly you're more aware than you were a while ago. Then, with the flick of his wrist, the bodies get further chopped apart. The gears in your head start to turn and your eyes widen. "O-oh…"

"Go on, then. Go ahead." He grabs your face, forcing you to look at the disembodied people and the growing river of blood. "Run."

"No. No…" Your breathing steadies, and you relax into his hold. He must sense it with the way his whole body tenses for a moment. "Not from you."

In the silence, you can practically hear him thinking as he gets up. And when he made no move, you realized he was waiting for you. So you got up too, wordlessly, and began to follow him. After a while of silence, he graces you with his voice again - quiet, almost…soft.

"My name is irrelevant…but people call me Sukuna Ryomen, the King of Curses."

------

And that was the start of your new life, as a servant of the King of Curses.

It…wasn't so bad! Sure, you could be killed any day, like a few of the other servants and many of the courtesans, but you also didn't do much! And, best of all, no more of those abusive neighbors! Your days were mainly spent helping the head servant - the attractive one with white hair and a pink splotch - do things for the king, for only up to four hours. Four hours! Then you'd spend the rest of the day doing whatever!

This was not one of those days, however.

Today, you were cleaning the Lord's study, in his chambers, along with the attractive head servant. There were...a strangely high number of Dokudami paintings...

"The Lord seems to have an obsession with this herb. Does he like it?"

"That's an interesting observation. Though you're mistaken. It's more the symbolism of this plant."

"And…that would be?"

"Its flowers are delicate, pure. The plant itself is medicinal against many illnesses - it's endlessly helpful. Kind. But it grows everywhere, even in the places not many grow. A surprising resilience despite it's 'delicate' nature." The head servant explains, and you can hear the tinge of amusement in their voice. "Remind you of anyone?"

"Uh…no? No one comes to mind…"

They simply snort at that.

------

The first time you were called to his chambers, you thought you were going to die. Actually, everyone thought you were going to die. They were all giddy at the thought. You didn't expect to just sit there in silence while he practiced his calligraphy.

"I can hear you thinking. Speak."

You fidget around a little, before getting the words out. "I've always been meaning to ask…why…why me, my Lord?"

He clicks his tongue. "You dare question my choices?"

"N-no! Only…I'm curious."

Sukuna is silent for a while, hand perfectly still as he thinks, before eventually speaking.

"You calm me." He sighs as his brush continues to move. "Somehow, every time, you calm me."

------

The courtesans could see you from outside, and you could practically feel them glaring daggers at you - endlessly furious and envious that you could be that close to the Lord.

"My Lord, you…never seem to show interest in your courtesans. Have they, I mean…" You weren't sure how to word it without coming off as too brash.

"Of course they try to bed me. They always do. Don't even try to hide that they're doing it to gain a semblance of power in my estate. The last two were just…" He waves his hand dismissively, tone making it abundantly clear he wasn't happy with the memory. "Had her head cut off and the second had his limbs strewn on the floor."

You feel his gaze on you, scowl evident in even his voice. "Why do you ask me about this?"

"It's just…you have so many, I thought, well..."

"Tsk. They only want something from me, and they think they can take it freely. From me. Me!"

"Surely not ALL of them…" You fidget a little. "Why would you keep them around if that was? There's…there's so many…"

You can practically hear his smirk. "Because their organs taste GREAT sautéed."

"A-ah…"

He snorts, seeing your discomfort. "Are you afraid of becoming like them?"

"I…hm…" You look up in thought. "Perhaps…"

He lets out a soft laugh. "Then you truly are a fool."

"But…I think, it would be a good sacrifice." You finish the last area, as he goes awfully quiet. "Like an offering to a god. I think…I think I wouldn't mind that."

His presence is more than clear behind you, strong and foreboding. "Do you mean it?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"Liar. Everyone says that…" He scoffs. "…but, nobody means it. If given the chance…"

You hear a sound, sharp and strong, much like a blade. A pain blooms from your wrist, and you realize you're bleeding lightly - only a few drops of blood at a time. "They all run."

"No. I wish to stay by your side, my Lord. I have nowhere I'd rather be." When you relax and make no move to run, a big and warm hand engulfs yours.

"You…weren't lying." You feel lips against the wound on your outer wrist, and the swipe of a tongue against it before the wound starts to close. "You fool…"

------

Many in the estate didn't like you, jealous of how close you were to the Lord - but it wasn't everyone. Now, it was everyone. Rumors fueling jealousy and malice for the very obvious favoritism.

Taking little nibbles, you didn't want to take more than your share.

The food was beyond AMAZING. However, Sukuna simply scowls as you shyly keep your head bowed and you must feel his gaze harden by the way you flinch under it.

"I apologize. I just…don't want to take more than my share…"

"Do you mean to insult me? This entire meal is yours." He scoffs, grabbing your bowl. He grabs one of the sushi rolls and puts it against your mouth, which is still closed due to your surprise. "Eat. I won't accept this…whatever it is you're doing."

"O-oh, I-…thank you, my Lord." You open your mouth and allow him to feed you. Light blush forming from how good the food is. Yes, that was definitely why. "My compliments to the chef. This is beyond delicious, my Lord…"

And it was true, the sushi, the miso soup, selection of meats, everything tasted DIVINE.

"Compliments taken."

WAIT-

You nearly choke on your food. "I-I apologize…my Lord. I, you…for me???"

"Use your words."

"I mean, ah…" You shake your head, trying to recover from your mind going into overdrive. "You…made this for me?"

"Yes." He says it so plainly.

"What…what for?"

He doesn't answer and, for once, looks unsure. "I…I don't know."

------

When you came out of his chambers unscathed the second time, everyone - except for Lord Sukuna himself and his servant - went into a frenzy. The servants were appalled, the courtesans were fuming, and you made sure to steer clear of everyone who now seemed to loathe you. And, soon enough, all your duties were either with the head servant, with Lord Sukuna, or by yourself. Still, you didn't feel safe in the estate anymore.

Then, one night, the head servant came to your quarters, stating that "Lord Sukuna has requested I take you to his chambers."

If you weren't going to die physically, you would die of embarrassment.

Still, you followed the white haired servant to his chambers, entire form trembling as you nearly stumbled over yourself. Sukuna glances you once over, and can't help the snort that escapes his lips. You looked like a newly born fawn with how shaky your legs were.

"My sincerest apologies. I just…nervous…"

"That much is clear. Sit." Something is off and you can tell he's tense. "This probably isn't going to go how you're expecting."

You do as he says, sitting seiza in front of him. Something sharp is pointed to your throat, right where the artery is. Your eyes go wide, but after a little bit, you allow your entire body to relax. If you should die by anyone's hand, it would be his.

"Look at me." He commands and you look up, seeing him holding a spear of sorts. For the first time, you see him - truly see him. His form beautiful, terrifying and divine all at once. Your eyes and body must show your adoration, because he looks away - as if uncomfortable.

He shuts his eyes, and the spear is repeatedly pushed against your neck, as if trying. However, it never follows through. This was so easy for him, and yet…

"My Lord, if I should die today, it would be the greatest honor for it to be by your hand." Your body relaxes, eyes close and you lean into the blade of the spear. Sukuna tenses, and you feel it in his hold. "If it's by your hand, my Lord, I can only die happy."

"Yes. That much you've made clear." You hear him sigh, tired and defeated, as the spear drops to the floor. "To think this is how I'd lose…how pathetic…"

"M…my Lord?"

"Leave."

You see him, frustrated and defeated, and it makes your heart ache to see him like this. Without even realizing it, your hand reaches out and stops just before touching him. "Might I stay for you? Please, I only want…"

His glare nearly has you frozen. "THIS is how you want to celebrate a victory over me?"

"No, my Lord. I only wish to stay by your side and help how I can."

He's quiet, clearly upset. "Do what you will with me. I might as well be worthless like this anyway."

"Never to me, Lord Sukuna." You take his hand in both of yours, and bring your lips to his knuckles but he quickly pulls his hand away.

"What?!" He snarls. "What use is your loyalty to someone like me now?"

"You are my Lord, Sukuna. I serve you…" Your eyes meet his, full of longing and concern. "Anything I can do to help you, please let me…"

His eyes briefly glance at your quivering lips, leaning in without realizing before he turns away with a click of his tongue.

"Leave."

And you do as you are told.

------

"How is Lord Sukuna?"

Was one of the most frequent questions you'd pester the head servant's ears with. They roll their eyes. "He's not frail, you know. You don't need to worry about him like a mother hen."

"I just…it's been a week since I've seen him! If he doesn't want to see me, that's fine, but…I-I'd at least like to know if he's okay…" You sigh. "And what I did wrong…so I can avoid doing it again!"

"Just give him time to process." The head servant states nonchalantly. "This is new territory for him."

------

The silence was…

Awkward, to say the least.

Not a word uttered as he continued to paint those stupid edible weeds in the candle-light. It was already late…

"A-ahem." Your voice breaks slightly when you clear your throat, and you feel his gaze on you. "M-my Lord, if there's nothing else, I shall retire for the night."

"Stay."

What.

"Don't make me repeat myself." Clearly your reaction was evident in your body, and you choke on your words before they even get out.

"That night was my first defeat." He says, as if sensing your question, yet you hear a tired and heavy sigh. "As of now, it's been my only one."

"But…have you been okay, my Lord?"

"Always about me, hm?" He scoffs, and there's tension as his footsteps grow closer. Your eyes meet his, beautiful and terrifying, when his fingers gently tug your chin up - guiding you to look at him. Guiding your body to the mattress as he cages you underneath him. "And why not just claim your victory? I have no right to complain. Isn't that what you meant to do the night you defeated me?"

"What? No! My, Lord, no! I-I'm sorry. It wasn't-I didn't mean-It's not what you think! I could never-" Your hands cover your mouth - shocked at the implication. "Oh Lord Sukuna, I bow to you! Only you! I-I will never, could never, force something like that on you! Not then. Not now…"

"Good. This was getting overwhelming." He sighs and then promptly rolls off you, plopping down to your side. Though your skins were still touching and, for once, Sukuna didn't mind someone this close to him in this way. He was relaxed, as if his worries melted away. You couldn't help the smile that grew. This was the Lord you know - a walking death and calamity, now pacified. You both face each other and he can't help but look away, cracking under the weight of your loving gaze - full of adoration, concern and awe.

Weak.

He was weak.

"Lord Sukuna, may I?" Your hand reaches out to him, stopping just before reaching the wooden part of his face. He was so terribly beautiful.

"Do as you wish." He mumbles, and you gently hold him - even though he doesn't show it, you can feel him tense.

"My Lord, what's wrong?" There it is again, the weight that makes him feel like he's breaking without being broken. "I know you don't need it, but I only wish to help in any way I can…"

His mouth opens and closes several times before he's able to finally find the worse. "You've broken me. Made me weak…and I can't even curse you, or wish we'd never met because I'd be lying."

You chuckle. "My Lord is far from weak."

"Yet I am powerless against you." His four eyes bore into you, in them a mix of desperation and longing, as you gently stroke the wooden part of his face. Finally, he closes his eyes, relaxing against you. "And I never thought defeat could feel like this…"

"Is it pleasant, my Lord?"

"It is…" You feel his fingers tracing along your collarbone, up to your jawline and you feel something wet licking your skin as his hand rests on your throat. A mouth on his hand, gently licking and suckling on the sensitive parts of your neck. "…but only if it's you."

"Lord Sukuna…" Despite everything, you feel he's still tense. "You're tense. Would you like me to…?"

"Yes. I meant to bed you tonight, but this…it's…" He sighs. "Overwhelming. I'm not clueless, but something about you makes it all…too much…"

"Then let me lead, my Lord." You gently push him down, and he lets you - following you as you guide him. His hand takes hold of your chin, pulling you in so your lips meet his. His kiss was tentative and unsure, or perhaps more accurately, scared. Scared of every feeling that threatened to overthrow him. You eagerly massaged your lips against his nonetheless. "Please…allow me to worship you tonight, Lord Sukuna."

His breaths become heavier when you straddle him, gently undoing his kimono while he easily rips your clothes to shreds with a flick of a wrist. Your lips mark his skin gently. Moving down to worship his mouth, jaw, his shoulders, both chests and finally to the mouth on his stomach - who was breathing just as heavy. Sukuna tenses when you take his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it and explore the much bigger one with your smaller tongue.

When you pull away, there's a small pool of saliva where the stomach mouth lay open and plenty on you where the mouth-hands had left their marks on your skin. Both his cocks, beautiful, heavy and fat, sat on his stomach where they were already leaking with arousal. Sukuna's breathing turned heavy, and as your hands move to his waist, stopping just before doing anything, you look up at him. "My Lord, if at any time you wish for me to stop, please say so. I will stop without hesitation or question."

"Always about me…" He chuckles and, in a sudden movement, easily manhandles you so your dripping cunt is on his stomach-mouth. "No, I do not wish to stop. But if you truly ask for nothing in return, then let me be gracious."

"M-my Lord, ah-" Your eyes roll back when you feel that giant tongue lapping at your juices, the both of you moaning as he did so.

"Delicious…" Fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing circles as a mouth sucks hickeys on your skin and your chest - finding the sensitive nubs and harshly tugging. You hear a noise that's half way between a whimper and a moan. "…everything about you…so delicious…"

"That's it, my Lord. I'm yours tonight…" You sigh, mind in bliss as your hands find his cocks. He bucks his hips when you begin to stroke him - slowly, before building to a steady pace. His cocks were thick and fat, heavy and veiny and monstrously beautiful in all the ways that had you nervous to take him. They throbbed eagerly, dare you say even aching for your touch. Bowing down, you take one of his tips into your mouth, careful not to let your teeth get in the way. The way his tip had pulsed and the amount of arousal you had to swallow down, had you moaning and whining happily as you swallowed his cock. Amidst the low growling of his stomach mouth, you hear a noise that's halfway between a whimper and a moan, and feel him buck his hips into your mouth as you lick and suck on him eagerly - tongue, lips and hands feverishly worshipping Sukuna's heavy, monstrous lengths.

The tongue begins to enter you, and you nearly cum on the spot - nearly choking on his cock. Slowly, it reaches deep, deep enough to hit that spot that has you seeing stars - forming a light bulge on your stomach with how big it is. When you continue to moan, Sukuna's hips move on their own - tip fucking your mouth while you drool and stroke him.

You both get lost in pleasure. His large tongue tastes and moves eagerly inside you, practically assaulting that sweet spot as the stomach mouth continues to growl and whine and drool; while you eagerly suck on and stroke his twitching and throbbing lengths. A guttural moan escapes Sukuna's throat when he releases into your greedy mouth, and you do your best to swallow everything he has to offer while his other cock paints you in white. Drool, precum and his seed still leak out your mouth, though - and you quickly find it's too much.

Before you can stop yourself, your cunt clamps down on the large tongue inside you and your body goes tense as you reach your own orgasm. Fluids leak out of your greedy cunt as you squirt on his tongue, which continues to move inside of you well past your high.

His tip leaves your mouth with a sloppy and wet pop and with a groan, the large tongue takes one final lick at your overstimulated insides before it retracts back. You both are breathing heavy, shaking a little as he repositions you onto his lap. His hand caresses your face, eyes completely dilated as he makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a sigh. "Oooh, gods, look at you…"

"My Lord, I-" Your eyes widen a little as you struggle a little in his grasp. "Wait-"

"Have you forgotten who you answer to?" He clicks his tongue. "You are in no position to make demands of me."

"I…answer to you, my Lord." You still, realizing what he was asking you. "I'm sorry."

When you look away bashfully, there's a small silence.

There's a small silence as you look away bashfully. However, when you glance back at him and are met with a frown - there was the sudden realization of an unsaid question waiting to be answered. He hasn't moved at all. Immediately, you explain yourself, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. "I-I'm still a bit sensitive, is all…but I-I still want this! Truly, my Lord! I-I want…I want you, still."

Your voice comes out a little higher than you would have liked, but it seemed to quell him nonetheless.

"As am I, but…" He sighs and before he looks away, you capture his lips in a chaste but wet kiss.

"I know." You bite your lip bashfully and your voice comes out soft and sweet in all the ways that make his cocks twitch. "But, I did promise to worship my Lord tonight. I shouldn't make a promise I can't keep."

When your hands begin to stroke him again, slow and gentle, Sukuna practically throws his head back, biting back a low whimper while his stomach mouth shamelessly groaned and panted. He cursed as his hips began to move on their own, muscles tensing as his cocks grew hard again. Yet when your eyes lock he only sees adoration and longing in them as your hands worshipped him diligently. Not the empty lust he saw in everyone else who wanted him this way but could never get close.

"You look incredible like this, my Lord." Your voice comes out raspy and full of longing, and it tears a near animalistic sound from him.

"Enough." He growls, and you immediately stop. "Let me inside you."

"Anything for you." A mix of arousal, anxiousness and excitement overwhelms you as you climb on top of him, positioning yourself so his bottom cockhead kisses the entrance to your cunt. The both of you share a guttural groan as you sink down on one of his cocks, the free one throbbing delightfully in front of your cunt. Sukuna was massive, to say the least, and despite how dripping wet you both were your legs were still shaking from the wonderful strain. Although your sopping, velvety insides took him in eagerly while being stretched to their limit. The initial pain of the stretch was nearly drowned out by how wonderful he felt inside of you - fat and veiny cock completely filling you, dragging deliciously along your insides. You could feel him his arousal leak inside you, and his length pulsing like a second heartbeat. And when you fully sheathed him inside of you, you both almost lose the ability to think properly.

"S-Sukuna, my Lord…" You'd be embarassed by how shameless you sounded with your Lord now fully inside you, his fat mushroom head threatening to breach the entrance to your cervix and spurting his precum on it. His hands rested on your hips, keeping your bodies joined with a messy puddle of arousal underneath you both. Sukuna's eyes were rolled back and fluttering slightly while his stomach mouth was open with his massive tongue lolled out, making a noise somewhere between a low growl and a whimper. Seeing him like this nearly sent you off the edge.

"O-ooh, gods…" He groans when he feels you clamp down on him, and a hand pulls your head into a clumsy kiss. You feel his breath turn into full on panting when he tasted himself on you, the hands on your hips now painfully digging into your skin as he begins to thrust up into you - sloppy, slow and languid, as if trying to get even deeper than he could. Your free hands, once caressing the wooden part of his face, now move down to stroke his free cock - earning you a low growling from the stomach mouth as it started panting.

"Oh, you feel heavenly, Lord Sukuna…" As if encouraged by your words, his thrusts start to get faster, harder - a steady rhythm beginning to build. "That's it. You're doing so well, my Lord."

"Ngh, ah…" Oh, how your Lord made such sweet sounds.

Neither of you were going to last long, it was all too much.

The pain had long subsided, replaced only with ecstacy. Sukuna's fat and heavy cock dragged along every part of your insides, and the feeling of the warm arousal dripping from his tip and the throbbing of his veiny length had you near screaming into his mouth. Your Lord was completely filling you and leaving no part of you unloved. While your wet and sloppy cunt desperately sucked him in every time you and him moved, only to be rewarded as he thrusted back in and you bounced back down on him, wet velvety insides squeezing him tightly as if never wanting him to leave. Without you even realizing it, your body was unconsciously and sweetly worshipping and loving your god. "A-ah, I love you, my Lord!"

Something in Sukuna snaps upon hearing those words, which were otherwise empty - had it come from someone else.

"Let me taste you." He practically whimpers into your mouth as you both pant and continue to knot tongues. The kiss is clumsy, inexperienced, but you were far too lost in love to care - exploring your Lord's mouth eagerly while you struggle to ride his beautiful, monstrous form. The tongues on his mouths sucking, biting and tasting your skin; marking every bit of your body they could. This would hurt, but you didn't care. You only wanted to show your god how much you loved him. "And I want you to accept me, too..."

"Yes, my Lord. Anything-" This would hurt, but you didn't care - only wanting to show your god how much you loved him. "Anything you wish of me…"

With the flick of his wrist, there's a sharp pain on your tongue and a metallic taste floods both of your mouths - there's not enough damage to fully cut off your tongue, however, only a cut.

"Swallow me." Sukuna's breath hitches as he continues to kiss you, letting out a noise between a growl and a whimper, and you realize that it wasn't only your blood in both of your mouths. An offering of a devotee to their god, and a god to their devotee. You eagerly swallow each other's blood, moaning as you share the messy, bloody kiss.

His thrusts get faster and harder, his cock twitching and your cunt spasming. What was once a steady rhythm has now turned sloppy as you both rode each other into your high. Sukuna reaches his orgasm with a choked sob, and you reach yours with a scream - bodies tensing as you both get lost in each other and neither of you stop moving. His warm and thick seed floods your insides, far too copious and spilling over as he paints your womb white. Your cunt spasms and clamps down on him, almost painfully milking and sucking him in, desperately trying and failing to keep his overflowing love inside.

It feels like forever, but you eventually collapse on top of him - both of you too tired to pull out. Your minds were completely muddled, bodies shaky with the high and tranquility of post-orgasm. There was nothing but the sound of your breathing for a while, before he silently cups your face and you feel the sting on your tongue disappear. With shaky hands, you touch your tongue and find the cut was healed.

"Thank you for sharing your blood with me, my Lord." You bury your face in the crook of his neck. "If I may, might I stay the night?"

"You'll be staying here every night, from now on." Without realizing it, his lips reach your forehead. "And for the rest of eternity, you will never leave my side."

"Yes, my Lord. I swear it." It was one simple, powerful vow that had you staying by his side for the rest of your life…

And made you return to him, in every life after.

-----

My GAAAHD was this difficult to write. Not the actual writing part itself, oh NO. But finding the time for writing. YEEESH. Anyways, have a great day!

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