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lilacxquartz · 2 months ago

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part 9 of 19 of kinktober: brain riding

kenjaku’s brain x reader

plot: kenjaku would like to try something a bit different with you — themes: oral sex, brain riding, gender neutral pronouns for kenjaku, f!reader, coercion, potentially body horror — a/n: if the idea weirds you out, this is your warning to click out, otherwise read on <3 — w.c: 800ish

kinktober masterlist • main masterlist • ao3

“Come on, I promise it’ll be fun,” Kenjaku teased, dragging your fingertips along their still freshly sutured incision, “it’ll be unlike anything like you’ve ever experienced before.”

You stammered in slight uncertainty, narrowing your eyes into a concerned stare; studying the liquid that trickled out of their partially undone form. “I-I don’t know, this might be too weird… even for me.”

Kenjaku could only smile as they pulled you back down over their body, urging you to straddle over their frame. They didn’t want to pretend with you anymore—at least not since you last saw their technique and surviving form—so this was simply… the next big step forward.

“Trust me,” they coaxed, lowering their voice into a breathy whisper, “I promise it’ll be fun. If you’re that scared, you can sit a little lower over my vessel’s face and we can work our way up.”

You could only blink as your mind paled at the thought, still struggling to imagine just how this could possibly go. Admittedly, this was something that you had never once anticipated before and yet here you were, giving into the impossible.

“Alright, just… just give me a moment, okay?” you replied in a strained tone in an attempt to calm yourself down.

They simply stared up at you as you straddled over their stomach, their arrogant grin slowly widening with each passing second.

“Do I just… hover over the brain, or?” you asked in a resigned tone.

They tilted their head back in anticipation. “I’ll tell you when, how’s that?”

A whole flurry of troubling thoughts swept through your mind the more you tried to talk yourself into carrying the act through. For one, you felt suddenly… insecure? What could the view for them even be from that sort of angle? Given that your thought process could be easily reflected on your expression, they pulled you down ever so slightly by tugging at your wrists to at least, reassure you.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” they murmured, trying to pad you forward on your knees, “I can promise you that my eyes will be closed if that’s what’s bothering you,” they lied, wanting nothing more than to revel in the view.

You tilted your head in half disbelief, not quite believing them. “R-really?”

They hummed with a confirming nod, finally getting you to hover right where they wanted. With a quick pull, they cast aside the skull cap for now, propping it over to the bedside table before shooting their tongue up towards your clit, hoping to steal a taste while you were still adjusting.

A slight yelp escaped your lips as the rest of your body tingled in a pleasurable shudder; your legs settled parallel over the soft, fleshy mass felt almost softly foreign when compared to any other area of flesh. The tissue was alarmingly supple and left you feeling a little afraid for them.

“A-and you’re sure that this doesn’t hurt you?” you asked in a somewhat innocent tone, genuinely concerned for their safety.

They lightheartedly laughed in response to you, their tone of voice adopting a nonchalant edge, “Well, it might mess up my vision a little but don’t worry, I can fix all of that later. Besides, my brain is firmer than the average person’s, so you’re not damaging a single thing.”

Kenjaku technically meant that first part in a joking manner, but they partially regretted their jab a second later, knowing that you wouldn’t take it in the way they hoped and would very likely hesitate to let yourself go fully.

To counter this, they attempted to pull you down a little closer; their brain tongue greedily lapping up wherever it could feel, the rest of the rosy matter slightly pulsating as it did so as the subtle movements almost caused them to tremble.

Continuing, they licked at your folds whenever you slipped up and tried to steady yourself. Your clit was the primary focus, but your lacking confidence was something that they’d have to train you out of in the future; which was already pre-planned in their mind. Working with what they could, they flicked at your skin’s swollen peak, pushing you towards a quickly building climax. Perhaps it was both the fear and the arousal and the unknown; all three things combined to overwhelm you into a heated mess.

In a way, it was surely frustrating due to the host’s body responding with want and need, pooling tingling pleasure in between their legs. They couldn’t stop now however—not when you were so close—so instead their tongue zigzagged at an almost hurried rate, sending rising shocks of shuddering bliss through your body, forcing you to eventually coil and flood in a seeping release that trickled into their cerebral lips.

As you finally stilled your grinding process, you sat back over their chest and then rolled over to your back, your body involuntarily flinching slightly at the cap they used to secure back over their brain.

“I’m never letting you live this down by the way,” they teased, already planning the next moment they’d do this with you again (and again and again.)

And to your surprise (not that you’d admit it to them), you didn’t feel completely opposed to the idea.

~~~

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lilacxquartz · 4 months ago

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CHASING HUMANITY • kenjaku x fem!reader

ao3 • masterlist • << previous chapter • next chapter >>

summary: after witnessing a murder, you try to avoid becoming the next victim.

a/n: i’m doing a thing where each chapter is their own pov and the story progresses that way, hopefully this gives a good insight into both of their characters :)

trigger warning: referenced abuse

Chapter 2. Second Chances

You often took walks late at night.

Usually it was to escape from your personal life and at other times, it was because you simply wanted to be alone.

Your small town was a rather quaint one and it was uneventful enough that you were never that worried about your safety, even if you were out a little too late at night.

That was until you saw something that you shouldn’t have.

You had been walking for about an hour by that point, weaving through both the streets and the trees alike guided by the light of your phone at times. It didn’t take too long for you to reach the underpass just outside of town; a place that you sometimes liked to go.

At first, your mind didn’t fully register it.

You saw something happening, yes, but you didn’t fully comprehend it at first. A looming figure that was defined by nothing more but a sharp silhouette against low lighting and what appeared to be a person suspended over the bridge, tied up, limp and quite possibly dead.

No, not quite possibly…

…They were very much dead.

Your eyes focused on the scene as you watched from the sidelines of the forest, your cover still hidden. You were close enough to see that the tied up corpse was still dripping blood out of their body, recognising the faint smell of copper wafting in the cool air.

It didn’t take you too long to figure it all out.

On your walk, you had managed to witness a murder.

Pausing in your tracks, you attempted to take a step back to evade the same fate but it was all far too late as your presence didn’t seem to go unnoticed. Whether it was your heavy breathing that gave it away or the rolling crunch of the gravel that scratched the road; you were in trouble.

Quickly concealed by the surrounding shrubbery, you attempted to hide yourself which to your worry—had also failed you—as the approaching presumed murderer was now walking right towards you.

Without a second thought, you broke off into a frenzied sprint towards the forest hoping that the darkness would help conceal you, pushing yourself through the scattered trees. You weaved through the woods; grazing your arms on protruding branches that caught onto your arms as you ran, your breathing coming out in short bursts of shuddering, ragged gasps.

Your heartbeat drummed loudly in your ears and the wind felt harsh against your face, roaring whooshing static past your ears. The chase seemed to be inevitably closing in on you however, as the rapid footsteps of the perpetrator soon matched your frantic pace. Twigs and rustling leaves alike kept giving away your position—the sound of your own escape betraying you—your chest feeling sore as your ribs casted painful stitches and yet, you couldn’t take a break at all.

The reality was harsh and clear:

You were being hunted.

You swivelled your neck ever so briefly for just a split moment to see what was going on behind you, but you couldn’t even make sense of what you were looking for. The person behind you blurred into the background, the shadows concealing them quite well but also, at the same time, you could feel their breath on your neck.

(They were so close to catching up—so close, too damn close—!)

And then, without even anticipating it, your ankle twisted from the slightest incline over the uneven terrain, causing you to propel yourself forward in a stumbling fall. You grunted as your stomach tanked the hit; your body bristling against the crunching foliage.

You couldn’t stop now though, at least not yet.

Not when this could have potentially meant that you could join a similar fate.

You tried again and again to get up, to claw your way forward, kicking your knees in attempt to shoot yourself upright once again and yet—just as you were about to zoom away—a hand grasped tight around your wrist and reeled you in close against the clutches of death itself.

It was too late.

You were finally caught.

The person held you tight in their grasp, capturing your body on a struggling embrace with strong arms coiling around your torso, as though enjoying the sensation of you squirming around in their reach.

A male voice then spoke up with a playful yet dangerous tone, “Spying on me, were you?”

You shook your head, denying anything of the sort. “N-not at all, I was just passing by, I haven’t seen anyth—“

However he promptly cut you off, “—oh? I think that you’ve seen plenty.”

His touch became soothing as if he sought to calm you, to lull you into a false sense of comfort. Your breathing soon settled but your gut instinct played a warning in your mind, telling you to be wary of anything that could have possibly awaited you.

Unsure of where to go from here, you remained silent for the time being and so did he—and after a moment of nothing being said—he took it upon himself to walk you back towards the warming glow of the streetlights, the next destination unclear.

(Even if you had a clue.)

(Likely six feet under. Maybe even less.)

Albeit reluctantly, you walked towards the direction he pushed you while you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly you had accidentally caught yourself up in. You knew that screaming, kicking and crying would mean a faster death in order to quickly silence you. As a result, you were forced to face your upcoming appointment with the end, painfully aware of what awaited you.

Fighting back wasn’t an option either (at least not with the strength this man demonstrated).

“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” you asked, unsure as to why you entertained asking such a thing. Hearing the confirmation wasn’t going to be easy and you knew it.

“My, aren’t you a smart one,” he praised tauntingly.

You nodded quietly in response, trying to accept that fact as you processed his words but you couldn’t quite do it. Something in your mind flipped a switch, though. Suddenly, you couldn’t help but find this situation… amusing?

Such horrid luck you had.

Your options weren’t looking good whether you lived or died; to either go back to an abusive partner or to die at the hands of a murderer wanting to keep things quiet.

Suddenly, you weren’t afraid anymore.

(It felt funny, in fact. You couldn’t help but humourlessly laugh in your head. What a cruel joke this whole thing was…!)

This did leave you bitterly wondering if he was just speeding up the inevitable for you instead—and as you trekked through the terrain—you couldn’t help but wonder something else, too. It all seemed too coincidental, too perfectly set up, especially with the artistic display left behind at the underpass.

“Are you… that guy from the news?” you asked.

“Be more specific?” he returned the question, sounding almost a bit smug about it.

“That… travelling killer?” you elaborated as he led you towards a car, leaning forward as he slipped a manual key into the boot of what appeared to be an older model.

He hummed, seeming amused, “Why? Want my autograph?”

Flipping the trunk open, he pushed some tools back as he sat you down, finding you strangely compliant throughout the whole process. He reached towards the side to fetch a loose ball of rope before tightly binding both of your wrists together and then doing the same to your ankles.

“I don’t have evidence,” you blurted out, making him pause in the process of shutting the lid.

(What were you doing?)

“Correct—“ he nodded, interrupted by you cutting him off.

“—so I can’t talk, can I?”

“…because,” he ignored your attempt to persuade him, continuing with where he left off, “you’ll be dead.”

“Okay, but what if the police couldn’t believe me, no matter what I’d tell them?” you said, attempting to explain your circumstances.

(Did you really want to live that much?)

Pausing, he narrowed his gaze at you as he allowed his curiosity to get the better of him, unable to ignore such a claim, “…Why wouldn’t they?”

“I’m…” you began, trying to explain summarise your situation, “in a relationship with an officer and they never believe me because he’s good at…” you paused, sighing, “he’s good at… hiding his bullshit, I guess? So why would they believe me for anything else?”

(Oh. So that’s where all this persistence was taking you. You wanted out. You wanted revenge, even, at least eventually.)

The man silently nodded as he studied your face for any hint of a lie. Your features seemed to indicate that this confession was genuine.

“Still, they’ll probably investigate a claim of murder,” he dismissed, “you’re still a local and it’s your word against the strange shaman who’s new in town.”

“I wouldn’t go to the police at all,” you promised, “I-I hate them and…”

As you trailed off, he considered an idea in mind. Studying your features, his sights settled on a subtle bruise towards the side of your head, just barely concealing a bruise around your ear. It could have been the remnants of a smack, perhaps a day or two old.

“Oh?” he considered, his lips flicking briefly into a smile, “But how does this benefit me exactly?”

As you considered your next words, he gently leaned you towards your side to fit you better into the trunk. Maybe, at least right now, he wasn’t going to kill you just yet. You seemed like an interesting enough ‘case study’, after all.

It wasn’t everyday that he held a conversation that he didn’t hate or got bored of quickly with a victim either.

“I d-dunno,” you stammered, “I could be your cover? Your alibi? S-something like that? …I could help you?”

“But why would you do such a thing?” he asked, daring you to explain. You were just a regular civilian, so why were you showing interest in being his accomplice? If it was just a way out of getting killed, then that would make you unreliable.

“I want out,” you admitted with a firm tone, “I don’t want to live here anymore and I can’t leave my relationship, but you can change that for me, can’t you?”

“So you were out here because of a bad situation at home?” he asked, although the way he did so sounded more like a statement.

You nodded in response against the rough surface of the trunk, seeming hopeful but he didn’t seem to comment beyond that. Instead, he tucked your limbs further into the boot of the car and slammed the lid shut, leaving you to fester alone in the dark with all sorts of thoughts invading your mind.

You listened in as he walked himself over to the front of the car, sitting himself down at the driver’s side before securing the key into ignition. You wondered where you were going next, but weren’t too hopeful about your chances due to his seemingly linear way of thinking, likely taking you towards your early death, marked by a shallow grave.

This sort of dance did feel odd to you though, because why didn’t he just kill you on the spot and then dump your body somewhere else later?

Why did he need to drive you somewhere else while you were still alive?

Your mind deluded itself into thinking that it had a chance, prompting you to accept the fact that if you kept talking, if you kept trying to keep up with him, that you would live. No matter what it took.

The trip itself lasted a good hour or so before he slowed the car to park. With the twisted ground that the car rippled through, you understood it to be in the midst of a forest or somewhere rural enough and with the flash of a torch pointed right into your eyes, you squinted as he opened up the lid, taking one good long look at you.

“So…” you began, sounding annoyingly hopeful, “you’re definitely letting me live, right?”

The man couldn’t help but wearily sigh at your persistence. You were in the uttermost bleak sort of situation and yet you wouldn’t stop talking in such a way that implied that you were an exception from the looming danger just over the horizon. He slowly reached for a shovel next to you, keeping his eyes locked on yours while hinting at his true intentions while studying your reaction.

He then next crouched slightly, hoisting you over his body with his other arm before carrying you off into the woods.

He planted you into the ground and that’s when your hope began to slightly falter, your eyes squinting as you could hear the shovel dig into the dirt, seeing him move around just barely in the dim moonlight.

“So… no letting me live?” you asked.

“Too risky,” he continued to deny, grunting as the shovel scooped up dirt, “you’ve seen too much.”

“Do I look like the type of person to run my mouth?” you asked.

He paused and blinked at you before digging even faster without giving you a sure response. Somewhere mid dig, he paused his efforts and squeezed his eyes shut, as though trying to stifle a headache.

He then glanced at you while you laid there perfectly happy with an irritatingly hopeful smile on your face, unable to deny that he was at least a little curious.

What an odd victim you were.

Maybe too odd to let go to waste.

“You’re very strange,” he commented with a resigned sigh, dragging you over to the shallow grave and looking down right at you.

“Thank you,” you replied.

“Not exactly a compliment,” he murmured, kicking some dirt over you to gauge whether or not your reaction would be any different if he at least buried you somewhat alive.

“So… how about it?” you asked again, your tone of voice sounding still hopeful even if you didn’t feel the slightest bit similar.

His gaze slowly became contemplative as though he wasn’t he wasn’t entirely sure about you. You did seem inconspicuous enough to build his cover on, so perhaps you could benefit him as an ally indeed. Plus, you seemed to have some sort of personal tiff with the authorities, so that could work into his favour as well. It was very likely that you had just as much to lose as he did should you both be caught.

“I’ll let you live,” he crouched down, loosening the knots but just barely, “on one condition.”

“A way out with a catch?” you attempted to joke. “No way.”

“Are you hearing me out or not?” he sassed, flicking more dirt over you.

“Right, right, sorry,” you piped down, spitting the mud out.

He rolled his eyes as you backed off. “You’ll do as I say and give me cover as I need it. I’ll give you a role and you’ll be my co-star.”

You wowed at his words, “Fancy.”

(That was it for you. You didn’t care anymore. You were ready to stop living in fear of your partner turning your life into a living hell for you. You were ready to escape, to become someone new completely. You weren’t sure what did it exactly, but you sure as hell weren’t going to back away now.)

He nodded once more, finally loosening the knot and helping you up, finding it slightly amusing with how you crawled out of the grave with some struggle. “You’ll be wise to keep this sort of thing up if you want to keep your life.”

“Of course,” you said while trying to secure your grounding, the uneven terrain making your balance wobble a little.

“And now,” he announced as he took a hold of your wrist, leading you back, “you’ll join me on the road. Do as I say and you’ll have a chance, slip up and I’ll snap that pretty neck of yours on the spot.”

“We’re going on a road trip?” you asked, seeming excited to get out of this whole area.

He stared at you, his left eye twitching. “Sort of.”

You shrugged as you then got into the car, happily sliding into the passenger seat without a care in the world as if you weren’t almost buried alive from a killer on the run. He in turn, almost hesitantly got into the car with you, turning the keys and taking a deep breath as though to calm himself down.

In truth, he wasn’t sure if you should be more scared of him.

Or if he should be the one more scared of you.

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