CW: Mature themes, Gore, Blood, Heavy Angst, Coma, Nightmares, Reader Death, Unspoken Confessions, fem reader
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Snow shouldn’t look like this; it should be white and soft but when touched chilling and crunchy. It should never be a slushy mix of pink and dark red from endless blood, with green from the spilled bile of stomach contents. It should never have its purity stolen with falsehoods of dark crimson blossoms. Much like you should never have lost that light in your eyes.
Megumi wasn't sure how long he had sat there, cradling your torn body, his numbed hand intertwined in your unfeeling fingers. He wasn't sure when he had stopped screaming at you to 'breathe', to 'come back', or that 'you aren’t allowed to leave'. He wasn’t sure when his desperate yelling turned into pathetic sobbing or even when that turned into endless silence. When did he shut down? When had oxygen become a luxury his body couldn’t afford?
He knew somewhere in his mind he was furious; he was also so miserable it felt like his heart had been ripped out of his ribs. Why did you protect him? He would have been fine. Why couldn't Sukuna fix you?
His hands were disgusting, covered in bits of your strewn intestines and blood from trying to stuff parts back inside you. Parts that should never had been exposed to the bite of the winter wind. His hands trembled as they cradled your face, pressing his thumbs against the apples of your cheeks. He didn’t want this, and for once he wanted to be greedy, wanted to force you to come back no matter the pain you’d be in. He couldn’t let you go. But he had no choice, he had no ability to fix this, he had no control.
More tears rolled down his cheeks, turning icy within seconds as he pressed his forehead against yours, ignoring the smell of sour bile staining his fingertips.
“You can’t do this to me,” he whispered, pressing a featherlight kissed against the bridge of your nose. “It’s not ok to leave me like this. I can’t…”
A sob ripped itself painfully from his chest and he turned his head to cough. His fingers gripped tighter at your cheeks, he pressed a soft kiss against each eyelid as he pulled them down gently, and then ended with a delicate touch of his lips against yours. He choked on a gasp another painful cough tearing its way from his lungs as he pulled away. Hoping he would wake from this never-ending nightmare.
He quivered with fear when he moved away, terrified that once he did so the reality would be set, and his fate could never change. That his future would be empty, missing a piece that looked suspiciously like you. Megumi clenched his teeth, as he finally rocked back to sit on his heels, every emotion seemed to suddenly be wiped from his mind.
“Ah… Fushiguro?”
Megumi’s eyes drifted up to stare at Yuuji, to blink away the ice clinging to his wet lashes. He was so tired suddenly, and there seemed to be this yawning pit opening up inside him, growing larger and larger with nothing to stop it. He was so lost, sitting on the edge of the rim as it widened before him, and he looked into the pitch black, waiting to swallow him.
He blinked and it was gone, and there were his two friends, there was your body. Suddenly he wanted to be back in front of that terrifying abyss again, except he couldn’t bring it back. Instead, he stared at the pain swirling in his friends’ eyes. He stared at apologetic softness in Yuuji’s and fathomless understanding in Nobara’s. He didn’t want it, he hated them for trying to feel something, for feeling empathy or sympathy when they had no right. When his entire world had been stripped from his greedy grasp within seconds. When all he could think about was that he’d never hear your laugh again, never see your smile again, never even feel your warmth.
The hole that was slowly ripping his mind apart filled with roiling fury and frustration. Why couldn’t they see it!? Why did they think they had any right to feel sorrow when he couldn’t even breathe right?
Megumi felt like a trapped animal, lashing out because it was safer than accepting the truth of what the painful ache in his chest meant. He hated Yuuji, he hated his best friend because he hadn’t been able to convince the curse leeching off his body to bring you back from death.
Somewhere in the dimmed part of Megumi’s usually rational mind, he knew his anger was ridiculous. But he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t stop his face from twisting in a disgusting sneer as he looked at his friends and feeling they weren’t worth breathing the same air stained with the metallic scent of your blood.
“Megumi, c’mon let’s go. We gotta tell Gojo so he can send help. So, we can…,” Yuuji frowned, his jaw snapping shut as he seemed unable to say the words.
“What! Say it! Fucking say it! So, we can clean up,” Megumi snarled, spit landing on the snow as he found himself leaping to his feet. “So, we can clean her up like she was never even there.”
His fists shook by his sides while his curled fingers pressed against his palms. He moved toward Yuuji without a second thought, carefully avoiding stepping in anything that may be you. His hands found the lapels of Yuuji’s coat as he shook him.
“Don’t you dare treat her like trash,” he hissed as his blue eyes narrowed.
Nobara stepped in, placing a gentle hand Megumi’s forearm, “Yuuji didn’t mean it that way. You know that.”
“Do I?” Megumi snapped, glancing over at the girl. “Do I really? Fine, get Gojo, but I’m staying.”
How long had it been until they came back, after leaving Megumi to grieve more? After leaving him to whisper to your corpse that he loved you, over and over. He told you of things that you did that he would never experience again, he told you of things he wished he had a chance to do with you, he told you of the future he often thought of with you, and he told you how much he missed you already.
They found him on his side, cheek pressed against your bloodied chest without a second thought, as his fingers grasped at your frozen ones hopefully. It was Yuuji who moved him, who risked the damage his rage caused, who took the brunt of the beating while Gojo shuttled them away so you could be… cleaned. More like so you could be erased.
As you winked out of his sight, as he screamed at your prone form that he would never forget you, that he’d find you again, Megumi swore he lost what little sanity he had left. It was the only explanation that would give a reason to his actions the next few days.
It was the only reason he would never move from bed, that Yuuji had to bathe your blood from him, that Nobara had to make him drink water, and that he abstained from food. They only got inside because they had keys, another present from you that continued to haunt him. Just like how your scent still lingered in the bedsheets, or how your clothes were still in the dresser drawers… or how your picture was still his wallpaper on his phone.
He couldn’t breathe, lest he smell you; he couldn’t close his eyes, lest he see your smile; and he couldn’t speak, lest he call for you. All he could think of was you and the fact that you were gone. You’d left him and he was so utterly beaten for the first time in his life. For the first time in his life, he had no will to get up again and try. He had no desire to push beyond his limits.
“Happy now,” he whispered, voice rough from disuse and dry sobs. “You’ve broken me.”
“You know I always joked about that, I don’t think it’s quite so funny when it’s true,” you said, and he could almost see you smile.
He snorted, rolling onto his back, “I miss you.”
“I know,” you whispered, and he felt you drag your fingers across his cheek. “You have such pretty eyelashes Megumi.”
His eyes fluttered open, and he glanced over to where you laid next to him. To where… you laid… next to him. He blinked, you smiled, tilting your head. He reached out a hand, and the image of you disappeared.
He frowned, “Of course.”
“Of course, what?” you were standing near the door now, your back pressed nonchalantly against the wall.
He flipped his head over to watch you, narrowed his eyes suspiciously. It was strange, you obviously weren’t a curse, no aura and no physical mutations. So, it must just be his delusional mind playing tricks on him. Yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry. Instead, he grabbed at the chance to see you again, to hear you again.
“Nothing,” he murmured with a soft smile, taking a moment to bask in the light your presence bathed him in.
“You should get up Megumi, you should eat, drink, and maybe bathe,” you wrinkled your nose at the last bit, pulling a laugh from him.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed.
“’Course I am. Always am,” you tilted your chin with a pleased smile.
He sighed, dragging his body from the sheets and for once he didn’t feel like he was dragging an extra four hundred pounds of weight behind him. For once it just felt normal to move. You observed with a smile and twinkle to your eyes.
He showered, quietly contemplating how a hallucination could get him to take better care of himself than any desire to survive could or any friends forcing him to, could. You, even in death, were all he needed. You were his reason to live, his reason to breathe, his reason to continue to try, and until his mind decided to give up on him, he would do as you asked.
----
“Do you think he will ever come out of it?” you asked, staring through the glass at Megumi, frowning as you saw the tubes trailing from his body.
He looked so fragile like that, like a figurine carefully taped together after being shattered.
“They don’t know. They said the damage was extensive, and though Sukuna saved him physically, we couldn’t reach him mentally,” Yuuji said with a sigh, following your gaze to his friend.
You trembled, why had he jumped in the middle to save you? You were already dodging. You would have been fine.
“Megumi,” you breathed, palm pressing against the cool window of his room. “I never even got to tell you. I love you.”
Yuuji placed a heavy hand on your shoulder as the two of you watched your friend sleep soundly, unaware of his internal struggles.
CW: Not sfw, Nontraditional omegaverse, au fantasy, yandere bakugou, fem reader, dub-con, age difference, breeding kink, abduction, murder, violence, gore
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Chapter One: Across the Battlefield
The smell of steel and sweat filled the air, pheromones swirled through the sky from the odd alpha in the ranks. You stood at the front of your fighters, shifting the weapons in your hands, adjusting from foot to foot. Soft puffs of air filled your cheeks as you focused on loosening your muscles, on readying yourself.
Snarling, you bared your small fangs, before turning to face your troops, “Men, women, alphas, betas! We are one! We all stand together, before the behemoth, before our enemy, before the demon that has claimed the other packs! We are all that stands between their never-ending quest for power and our homes, our loved ones! AND WE WILL BE THE LAST THING THEY EVER SEE!”
The roar of the people behind you, pressed hard against your back, rising the short hackles along your neck. You growled and rose your voice with your peoples’ in a challenge to those across the battlefield. The man standing directly beyond you sneered, lifting his lip slightly to show a slight flash of dual alpha fangs. His crimson eyes narrowed, and he filled his lungs, before opening his mouth in an answering bellow that his pack soon took up.
The silence that fell after the echoes drifted away, was deafening, and a chill crept along your spine causing your skin to prickle. Neither of the two sides moved, waiting to see who would break first. You placed a foot forward and the shield bearers behind you took up a rhythm, tapping their short swords against the metal of shields.
The cacophony soothed your omega while the few strands of alpha inside you snapped forward, and your form hunched. Your muscles tensed in your calves, your hips dropped, and your stance widened. The two curved blades gripped in your hand grounded you with their weight and their promise to see you through this.
You cast a glance behind you and said just loud enough to be picked up by a few of your soldiers, “Move.”
The rhythm changed and as soon as the entire row of shield bearers pushed forward to engulf you, your ranks bursting forth with a roar. All the army on the other side saw as a warning was the unnerving smile on your face before you disappeared in the seething mass of clanging metal.
“MEET THEM!” the red-eyed alpha screamed, and there was the sound of popping from his hands as he propelled himself to do just that.
His quirk had something to do with detonations, you noticed in annoyance. Various quirks on your side went off as those with alphen properties met in battle. Otherwise, it was just the sounds of screaming, steel screeching against steel, and wood creaking under the weight of onslaught. The whistle of arrows being loosed from your marksmen sang through the sky. The screeches of the first blows hitting their marks joined the deadly orchestra.
Anyone you faced only smelled an alpha, not an omega. You were an alpha who was protecting her homeland, to them. You snarled and growled, forced back as you avoided slashes to vital parts. However, you voiced your displeasure as your arm got nicked when sharp metal bit through your armor.
Yet it didn’t take long for the smell of blood and the taste of it, to take over. For you to forget anything other than fighting, protecting, and killing. Fear was no longer a worry, pain nothing more than fuel to get up again and again, to try harder.
It’s when you were cutting down an enemy soldier and wiping blood from a cut on your cheek, that you saw him. His hand spasming lightly and he seemed to have traded out his quirk for a bastard sword, he glanced up and just in time for you to see his eyes widen minutely when you start toward him on a full out run.
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Your eyes were feral, blood, both yours and others’, was smeared across you and there was a tug of respect in Bakugo for a moment. You started towards him with no fear, a toothy, half smirk was curving your lips and he turned to meet you.
You smelled like an alpha, but he caught a glimpse of your teeth when he met your blades head on, and he narrowed his eyes in confusion. There was only a singular set of sharp cuspids, and even as he blocked you blow for blow, he searched his brain. Letting his nose inhale, searching for pheromones.
Even through the muddle of dirt, sweat, blood, and other bodily fluids he’d rather not name; he could smell a mix of chocolate, coffee, and a floral vanilla. The smell confused him, but it made his mouth water, and made his alpha distinctly say, ‘mate’.
“Omega?” he asked, even as he parried another blow.
The grin on your lips widened, “What’s wrong? Your Alpha insulted that an Omega is giving you a run for your coin?”
He growled, the sound seeming to echo through his bones while his strikes became harder, faster. No longer
The night out with your friends had been nice. Dancing in the club had been the perfect way to relax after a heavy workload. When you came home, your apartment was dark, empty, and silent. Well, you thought it was empty.
It wasn’t until you saw the moon from the window catch the glint of a knife, balanced precariously between two fingers as the tip rested on the arm of a chair, that you realized you had company. The shine of the silver blade caused you breath to catch in your chest until you saw the same rays light up a familiar set of boots.
“Dabi?” your voice shook with nerves.
All you got was a hum of affirmation. The shuffle of clothes sounded as he stood, and there was a dull clicking as the knife disappeared into the darkness. You frowned and turned on the hallway light.
“Dabi,” you hissed. “What are you doing just randomly sitting in the dark? And the hell? No text saying you were coming? A call? You’ve been gone for a month, you said it’d be a week at the most.”
His eyes were chips of ice as they stared at you, so different than the usual heat they held. They roved over your dress, your body, your heels, and a sneer pulled at his mouth.
“Were you worried, dollface? Is that why you went clubbin’?” his words were toxic, filled with accusation.
What he was blaming you of? You honestly couldn’t be sure. There were traces of dark insinuation beneath his words, within his dulled eyes, and in that snarl twisting his face.
“What do you mean Dabi? I’m not gonna stay home waiting for someone who rarely messages me for more than a booty call, even when he is in town,” you snorted with a roll of you eyes. “You are acting like you’re my boyfriend or some shit.”
His eyes went from dull to burning in two seconds flat, a growl ripping forth from his throat as he stepped into your space. You backed up against the wall, palms flat against the plaster.
“I may not use that fuckin’ childish label, doll. But you’re sure as hell mine,” his eyes narrowed, lips quirking into a dangerous smirk.
You knew the response you were desperate to spit out was wrong. You knew you should swallow it down and let him fuck his anger out. You knew, god did you know. But you were so frustrated and so you let the words slip out without even hesitating.
“I don’t see your claim on me, no ring, no nothing,” you scoffed, pushing off the wall only for him to shove you back against it.
You hit it hard enough that all the oxygen punched out of your lungs. You gasped, your head ricocheting so hard that you saw stars for a moment. Then you felt the heavy weight of his hand around your neck, felt his teeth bite into the shell of your ear, and the warm metal of his piercing tracing the edge of your cartilage.
“Should we fix that then?” Dabi’s voice was nothing more than a toe-curling whisper.
You shouldn’t be affected by this, you should still be pissed, that beast of frustration should still have you tight in its grasp. However, all you could focus on was the slight pressure of his fingers on the sides of your neck, the heaviness of his palm against your throat, the drag of his scarred cheek and staples against your soft jaw, and you whimpered. Throaty and desperate as your thighs clenched and you worked your tongue silently.
The breathy laugh you heard in your ear as his knee shoved it’s way between yours, made your face grow hot, “Oh baby girl, you are so desperate for my cock, aren’t ya? So desperate that when I just hint that you may get it… heh, you go fucking dumb.”
The harsh grind of his jeans against your panties, his free hand having fisted your dress up around your waist, had you yelping and panting. His pupils were endless, swallowing the blue of his eyes until it seemed you would fall into the gaping black that was left. He bared his teeth in a dangerous smile and bit down on the thin skin of your jugular.
“Nnng, careful,” you whimpered. “No marks, work.”
You squirmed under his strong hold, feeling his fingers flex against your neck to keep your still and he bit harder, sucked with more aggression.
“No marks,” he mocked, pitching his voice to an annoying tone while he dragged his lips across your bruised skin. “I don’t care, doll. Wasn’t it you sayin’ that I had to stake my claim?”
You hissed as his teeth sank into your shoulder, and you felt the sting as they pierced your skin. Just you were about to squirm away his thigh ground up against your clit, his hand leaving your hip to graze your waist and ribs, then circle your nipple with such familiarity it had you swallowing hard under his hand. The pain wasn’t so bad anymore, the mix of delirious pleasure and throbbing ache from your shoulder pulling your mind apart easily.
“Remember, I’m the only one who knows you like this, who can make you feel like this. You are mine, your body knows it, your soul knows it, now we just need the world and your mind to accept it,” his face was in front of yours again, with that twisted angry smile, only this time it was coated a light sheen of pink with your blood.
God you hated that you craved him so desperately. You hated that Dabi was your drug in every sense of the word. That when he’d been gone you had slipped into the closest thing to withdrawals that you could have. You shivered under his hands, melting into him so perfectly, like he’d never left.
Usually Dabi was rough, but never was he this furious with you. Yes, the two of you had fucked each other in anger, but this time, you knew he’d push too far. You also knew you’d take it without hesitating. You were not just hopelessly in love with him, you were addicted to him, and he was obsessed with you.
“Please,” you whispered, brain heady and filled with cottony thoughts that you couldn’t form into words.
“Please what, babe? Use those big girl words,” he pouted out his lips before grinning again, his tongue swiping over the crimson on his teeth.
“I need--,” you gasped, floundering to finish because you weren’t really sure what you needed.
Did you need him to take you, to fill you to the brim? Or was that just what you wanted? Did you need him to leave you alone and never come back? Or was that just what you wanted? Your brain was a swirling mass of confusion and you couldn’t find the answer no matter how hard you clawed at the tangled threads.
“How about I help you, hm?” the hand around your throat slid up to cup your skull, his thumb tracing your jaw.
You nodded, sparks alighting on your skin from the gentle caress. His eyes flashed, and the hand that had been tracing your breasts disappeared to between your thighs, slipping under your panties and swiping along your slit.
You moaned, hips eagerly following his movements, bucking into his fingers even as they retreated, “Oh god, yes!”
“Ah, there’s my little doll,” he snickered, eyes narrowing with cruel approval. “Now what do you need?”
His head tilted, and he watched you critically. Your brain scrambled to keep up, eager to please him, your irritation a soft buzz in the fog of your mind, the memory of his fingers on your clit was all you could focus on.
“Need you, need you to- to fuck me,” your head lolled, as you swallowed the drool pooling in your mouth.
“Yeah? Is that what you need?” he said, his grin all harsh lines and sharp teeth. “What is it I need, though? What is it that you need to let me do to get you fucked, hm?”
There was something different in his glare now, something brutal again, and you could tell in the haze of your mind, that Dabi was trying to control himself and he was failing. He was hungry for something from you. He was enraged… and was he scared? You couldn’t tell, too lost to the needs of your body. But there was an extra layer of emotion in his eyes that was rare, and you were unable to place it.
“I don’t know, I don’t know,” you shook your head, sucking your lip.
His teeth snapped together an inch away from your face, flecks of spit hitting your cheeks, his blue irises burning with frustration, “I need to make you mine, sweet cheeks.”
You nodded, “Yours, yes, promise. Yours, I’ve always been yours, never not been.”
You were delirious, and you both knew you would never babble such things under other circumstances. If you weren’t high on endorphins and sipping the nectar of lust, you would never be promising him your soul, even though you both also knew he already had it.
He growled, as his teeth worked over the wound, he created earlier. Worrying it, making the clots open again, the bruise worse, and your mouth open on a gasp.
“Oh god, please, just--,” your voice was high and pitchy as you canted your hips forward, trying to entice his fingers to dip lower over your puffy clit.
“Please… please what? Use your words, slut,” he spat, his mouth releasing your pulsing flesh.
You whined, your hips bucking harder against his hand, “Please, D-aaabi. I need you to touch me.”
You were practically sobbing, your brain muddled and thirsting for more. When his calloused fingers slide over your slick clit it was enough to make you moan unabashed. Breath stuttering, catching in your throat, as your chest shuddered, and you felt an ache start while his finger traced light circles around you.
He hissed in between his teeth, “Such a needy cunt, so sloppy for me already, so fuckin’ wet.”
Each word was condescending, judging and yet pleased, like he was praising you for being his whore, and for the first time that night he pressed his warm lips to yours. You gasped into his mouth as his fingers pressed harder against your clit, coaxing you closer to the edge. His tongue took control, slipping against yours and the titanium adorning it seemed to leave a burning trail on everything it touched.
His teeth sank into your lip and you felt a sharp pain again, the tease of his tongue sliding against it as he drew away. You could taste iron and knew he bit through your skin. You stared at him through blurry eyes, and he rolled his jaw, seeming to think for a moment even as his fingers continuously drew circles over you, pulling more moans from your throat.
Slowly the tension in your body grew tighter, and you watched him through half-lidded eyes, the tip of his tongue caught in between his incisors as he pushed you closer and closer to your orgasm.
“D-Dabi, so close,” you whispered, squirming against the plaster, you’re back shifting between straight and then bowed.
“Yeah? Cum for me. Show me how desperate you are for my cock,” he growled, his free hand splaying next your head as he loomed in front of you, watching every micro expression.
It wasn’t necessarily the command, but that coupled with the sinful need in his eyes had you humping into his fingers in seconds, falling apart and finding peace all at once. You were flying so high that you knees buckled and your eyes rolled until they ached.
“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” your words became indecipherable from the noisy gasps and moans that tore from your chest.
You arced violently away from the surface behind you, feeling your muscles tremble and the sensation of his teeth snagging at the soft spot under your jaw. He chuckled, a mean sound in your ear as he dipped the first knuckle of two of his fingers into your fluttering pussy, humming in approval at the tight grip that greeted him.
As you drifted back down, slipped into the bliss that was post orgasmic haze, you vaguely registered Dabi shifting your thighs around his waist and hauling you into his arms. Your head leaned onto his shoulder, bouncing lightly with each step he took down the hall.
The next thing you knew, you were being tossed on the bed and there was the sound of rustling clothes and a clinking belt buckle. You forced your bleary gaze to focus, to see Dabi shucking his pants, to see him palm something in his hand and your eyes wandered over the piercings of his dick, the flush at the head, drool pooling in your mouth.
Your tongue was heavy and mind clouded, but there was something you needed to convey, “Dabi?”
It wasn’t what you wanted to say but it might get him to slow down. Might give you a moment to collect your thoughts and get your mouth functioning.
“Shhh, doll. I’ll give you everythin’ you need. Everything you fuckin’ deserve, make you mine,” his eyes flashed with his words.
You should have known something was wrong, that he was going to go somewhere the two of you had never even discussed. Yet, he was throwing his shirt to the side now, and your eyes were distracted by the glitter of his staples and the dual tones of his flesh. All you could do was whine in the back of your throat and he bared his teeth in a knowing smirk.
Your thoughts were starting to clear, body starting to regain sensation again and you moved easier. He could see the awareness gleam in your eyes, and he knew he couldn’t let you slip into full consciousness yet.
Dabi was quick to lean over you, rutting his dick in between your glistening folds, and the first bar of his Jacob’s ladder catching your clit just right to have you hissing in wonderful pain and pleasure.
“There’s my little masochist,” he growled, gritting his teeth.
You whined and shook your head, “No I’m not.”
He laughed cruelly, “Sure.”
You missed the way his hand discreetly slid under the pillow, instead distracted by his dick leaving you and taking away that delicious friction. Pulling a wanton whine from your throat.
“Sure you ain’t? Sure, you don’ like this?” he delivered a light slap to your pussy, making sure the weight of his palm hit your clit.
You squealed, feeling the more heat flush through your system and bucked your hips instinctively.
“Yeah, looks like you absolutely hate it,” he sneered.
Whimpering in embarrassment, or was it need, it broke into a throaty groan as you felt the blunt head of his dick press against your spasming hole. You gasped, clenching down, forcing him to push harder and hiss at the tension when he slowly started sliding inside.
“You better fuckin’ relax, or this is gonna hurt like a bitch,” his eyes were fluttering, and neck muscles straining.
He couldn’t go faster even if he wanted, and god knows he wanted. You were bearing down on him so hard he felt like his dick might snap in two. It was just on the pleasurable side of pain, and fuck if he wasn’t worried that he might blow his load as soon as he seated himself inside you completely. You were writhing, hiccupping shallow breaths into your burning lungs. Pushing at his chest weakly as tears stung at the corner of your eyes.
“S-slow down Dabi, it hurts,” you begged.
And when he bottomed out, he groaned, “Yeah, bet it fuckin’ does. But your takin’ me so damn well, I can’t stop. Feels so good, baby doll.”
He scooped your thighs into his arms, folding you in upon yourself, and you looked up at him, at the flush across his cheek bones and the way his lower lip turned white from the pressure of his teeth. He never looked more beautiful. It made the ache in your trembling walls ease a bit, that is until he surged forward even more, touching a spot in you that caused your body to snap tight and sheer jolts of pain to shoot through your taught muscles.
“Fuck! N-not there,” you rasped, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.
He grinned harshly, panting as he dragged himself out of your clenching body, “Gotta make sure I breed you right. Sorry doll.”
He sounded anything but apologetic though, and when he thrusted forward the wonderful pressure was almost enough to chase away the pain until he was flush against you, slamming into your cervix again. You screamed, white hot flashes of agony tightening you around him. He shuddered and moaned as he gripped onto you, watching tears spill down your cheeks.
“You look so pretty like this, cryin’ while your split open on my cock, beggin’ me to stop. So perfect, how could you think…hng,” he trailed off into a guttural groan as his pace picked up.
Your brain was melting into a mix of euphoria and complete aching anguish. Severe pain and rippling pleasure blended headily, leaving you panting and screaming until all you could do was open you mouth in a silent cry as you convulsed around him.
He spat out a curse and slowly rolled into you, panting harshly, his hand patting around behind your head. While you drifted higher than you ever had before, swearing that your body was numb, he pulled back to tilt his head and look at you intently.
“You know, I don’ think a ring is enough. Not to show everyone and you, that you’re mine. No… it's not permanent,” he said, and it was almost like he was saying it to himself, trying to convince himself of something.
You blinked dully up at him, swallowing thickly, and squealing every time he pushed forward too hard, causing a dull throb in your pelvis.
“I know how to fix it though, don’ worry doll,” he murmured, you saw him lift the knife and adrenaline began to spike through your system.
Sluggish movements became a little more coordinated and you shook your head, “No!”
You struggled, but were still weak, too easy for him to fend off and hold you down even as he barely rocked inside you dragging unwarranted moans from your throat.
“It’s ok, it will only hurt for a moment,” he whispered, placing a tender kiss on your temple. “But this way we will always be together. Everyone will know you are MINE.”
Blue flames licked along the metal, causing the steel to burn so hot it looked like platinum. He shuddered as the knife came down on the outside of your thigh, he murmured praises as you clenched around him, body jolting in his hold when it cut through your skin like paper.
There wasn’t a sting, but the searing burns left from the heated metal caused your flesh to sizzle and made you gasp and shake.
“Such a good girl… my girl,” he whispered, and you knew in that moment you’d pushed too far that night.
The cut wasn’t too deep, but easily deep enough to scar, you slowly faded in and out of consciousness while he sliced his name into your skin. He only came because of you spasming around him from the pain, but in your mind, you were almost giddy. So blissed out from the orgasms, so lost to his nonsensical words. He was back, and he was yours. He was back, and you were his. What more could you ask for?
A/N: Please be aware, this is the climax of this story, it is a DARK CONTENT series. This chap has torture and non-con in it. DO NOT PROCEED WITH ANY OF THIS if this bothers you. There is an epilogue to come
This is part of the Wheel of Mistfortune collab hosted by @cyancherub
CW: dark content, not sfw, non-con, medical torture, knife play, gun play, drug use, amputation, body horror, horror, minor character death, serial killer, living dolls, stalking, gore, violence, ambiguous ending, abduction, corruption, nightmares, mind break, breath play, dacryphilia, obedience, fear play, fem reader
Part Four: Every time we touch your hands are colder, colder
You were distinctly aware of the warmth pressing against your side, a solid object that felt alive, the gentle sound of a heartbeat. You were even more aware of the fact that nothing sat beneath you, were you floating? Were you still asleep? You felt strangely cognitive for still dreaming.
Your eyes rolled beneath your lids, no, you were awake. It was strange, your eyelids fought strongly against being lifted, like they were weighted down. Your head lolled, chest heaved, but nothing else seemed to work. Finally, finally, your eyes fluttered opened, and you saw the white of Tsukishima’s shirt covered with an apron. Felt his strong arms cradle you as he carried you through a dimly lit room.
“Hm, awake now?” he grunted, looking down at you with a quirked brow. “I’m glad, I definitely would prefer to see your face during this. Though, I’m not sure if you wouldn’t prefer to sleep through it.”
The smile he gave you was cold, bone-chilling, and something unhinged glittered in the depths of his gaze. It was tiny, the spark of insanity, and you wondered if you really saw it. You wanted to ask what was going on, you tried, voice coming out in a muffled whine and throat constricting to form words, but your mouth didn’t work with you. His smile grew, and now you knew something was off for sure. That the fear twisting in your chest was right.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be able to talk soon enough, but for a few hours you’ll be mute. It’s easier that way,” he murmured.
Your eyes widened and the first thing you did was try to move your arm, it responded for a second, the muscles twitching spastically but making no real movement.
“Oh, yes. You also won’t be able to move,” Tsukishima said as if it was an after thought, pursing his lips as he looked at something just out of your eyesight. “Now how to do this.”
Your muscles ached as you called to them over and over and tried to get them to do what you asked. However, you were nothing but a useless lump in his arms, mute, barely breathing, and unable to even twitch a finger. Your throat ached as it strained to scream in frustration, all you could do was scrunch your eyes closed and try to catch your breath.
“Don’t wear yourself out,” Tsukishima said as he placed you onto a flat surface. “I want to see the panic in your eyes when you realize what’s going to happen.”
Your gaze flicked around as he manipulated you like a doll, rolling you onto your side, and pulling your shirt up the entire way, exposing the dip of your back.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, as he maneuvered you onto your stomach.
You felt his thumb rub over your skin, tracing your spine with loving reverence.
“You know, I didn’t think I’d find my replacement so soon,” he said. “But then you found me, you sought me out, and I knew it had to be you. That you would be the best addition to my collection since I’d started. That maybe I could be a bit gentler with you since you wanted me to.”
His voice slowly went from awed to just a little manic, his words coming faster and his fingers tapping against your back excitedly.
“The others never wanted me like you did. They didn’t pursue me and look at me with adoration, they didn’t fall into step when I told them to. You are perfect, but I still can’t let you run away,” he growled, his hands grabbing possessively onto the curve of your waist and gripping so hard you knew it should hurt.
You could feel the amount of force he was applying, but no pain came, and for some reason that terrified you even more. Pressure but no awareness beyond that, what did that mean? What had he done to you? Your eyes flickered close for a moment, tears welling at your waterline and spilling down your cheeks.
Everything seemed slower, you could hear your heart and how it thumped erratically even though your breaths seemed shallow. Fear rushed through you, causing endless whirling questions. Questions that you didn’t want answered, but honestly probably already knew the end results. What did he want from you? What was he going to do? What had he done? Why had he done it?
And though he had vaguely explained everything enough that you could piece it together with everything that had been happening lately, you couldn’t let yourself believe it. Perhaps this was just a really horrible, absolutely terrible, nightmare. A whimper fought against your constricting throat as more tears fell.
“Shhh, don’t worry, I will take such good care of you,” Tsukishima whispered, and you felt him loom over you for a second, a light pressure on your back and the sound of his gentle excited breath close to where you lay. “We will be together until the end.”
His hand appeared within sight before you heard the gentle clicking of buckles and a steady pressure slowly grew on your wrists, your shoulders, your legs, and your ribs. He clicked his tongue as he tightened it more and the restraints became tighter, more painful, until your bones creaked.
“Just got to keep you still, if you move more damage will happen than planned,” he sighed, running his thumbs down the sides of your spine, counting under his breath.
You watched him reach off to the side again, coming back with a marker and the shine of something metal, something you couldn’t make out in the glare of the lights. Still, you shivered mentally, your body aching to move, to run, and more tears spilling over your face. You couldn’t see what he was doing as leaned over you, but you heard the pop of the cap coming off the marker, listened to him murmur again, numbers that made no sense to you.
He stroked a finger slowly up the middle of your back, pausing at the base of your neck and pressing firmly. Tsukishima made an affirmative noise and the sound of the cap clicking back on again resounded painfully loud in your ears.
Was it the fact you couldn’t move, couldn’t see because of that, couldn’t speak, couldn’t feel, that everything was dissolving into insanity around you; were those the reasons you now heard everything like it was an airhorn? You knew you would be trembling if your nerves could respond. You were terrified, but you also were aware pieces of you were slowly giving up, that you were slowly accepting your fate whatever it may be.
“Alright!” his voice brightened, and you blinked against the sudden volume change. “Let’s get started then. Don’t squirm, not that I expected you to, but well… just don’t.”
Why? You desperately asked in your head, why? Why? Why!? Why shouldn’t you move? What was he going to do? Was he going to remove your legs? Would you feel anything? Would dismember you and paint you just like those women he left to rot?
You wanted to stop your thoughts immediately, you had never meant to actually think those words. You should never have accepted the reality of what you knew was going to happen, what you knew you had been denying no matter how pathetic it had been. Once you gave those thoughts shape, you would be doomed to be aware, to know with every numbed second, every time you felt the pressure of his hands, that your life was limited.
---
Kei looked down at your untouched back, the only mark was the black line he’d placed across your neck. The spot he would cut and ruin you forever, ruin you for everyone else but make you even more perfect for him. He felt his breath sharpen and for a moment his hand shook on the scalpel he held. Excitement rushed through every vessel in his body, and he swallowed, forcing himself to calm down.
He couldn’t, wouldn’t, mess this up. Especially because he couldn’t wait to make you limp in his arms and then slide into your perfect cunt. He remembered the wide look you’d given him before he’d flipped you over on the table, the moment you recognized something was terribly wrong in your normal little world. It had been striking, beautiful, he would remember that look until he died.
His index finger slid along the back of the blade, preparing for the stabilization he needed. A smile quirked the edge of his lips, as his hand took position, and he pressed the sharp metal into your skin without hesitation.
“Oh,” he breathed, it was gorgeous, watching the skin, the fascia, and muscle split, seeing the blood well. “I was right, you are the one.”
There was no response from you other than then a muffled squeak that didn’t make it past your lips. He suppressed a shiver, biting his lip as he carefully cut deeper, watching red fibers part under his deft movements. The silver glinted ethereally against the hellish color of red splotching it and Kai wondered if it was possible to fall even more in love with you.
The slices were exact, definitive and perfected from years of practice. Slowly the white of bone and yellowish white of the disc appeared. That’s what he wanted, and he inhaled sharply, stopping his hand for a second as he realized he had been silent for a while.
“Your spine is so beautiful. One of the best I’ve ever seen. It’s a pity I need to cut into it,” he whispered, and he knew if you could move, you would have fought back.
That’s why he needed to do this. He knew you were a fighter and he needed to give you and him time to fall even more in love until there was no desire to leave in your brain. Sadly, that meant destroying your ability to run, your ability to struggle against him.
“Trust me, you won’t feel a thing,” he soothed, and with gentle shallow strokes he cut into the fibrous tissue, essentially ruining your ability to move.
He wasn’t sure how long he was at the surgery, could he call it surgery? It felt like it was. It was important, and in his opinion, bettering you. He cut away just enough tissue to damage your motor skills while not killing you, then with deft movements he cleaned and sewed the muscle back together.
Antibiotics, bandages, aftercare, it was all a familiar part of his ritual. But he didn’t look at your face until he was done, until he made sure your paralytic medications were reintroduced. And when he saw you, truly saw you, he smiled. It was the strange little smirk he always did, lopsided and just a quirk of the lips, he saw the glimmer of hope and recognition in your eyes.
“You know I think you would look best with a more natural tone for makeup,” he murmured, once again talking to himself and dashing all your hopes in one go.
He brushed your cheek with a gentle thumb, a touch that worshipped you like you were the prettiest porcelain doll he had ever seen. And truly that’s all most people thought he saw. Most people thought the women he chose were just dolls in his eyes, and perhaps they were to an extent, at least when they weren’t perfect. He had always liked breaking his toys. But his favorites he took care of, he put them back together again when they fell apart, he cleaned them, he loved them.
But you would also be so much more. So, so much more. You were a living breathing thing, a human that would be with him forever, never able to leave him, and once you accepted it, he would let you speak. He couldn’t wait to hold you.
He picked you up gently, “But all that can wait. Right now, let’s just clean you up a bit, I’m sure you are exhausted.”
The way he wrapped his arms around you made him incredibly aware of how small you were compared to him. How he could probably snap you in half if he wanted. Still, he cradled you against him like he was afraid you’d break.
You looked up at him, with drooping lids and exhaustion pulling at your silent features. Completely unable to control your own body, it did as it wanted and was even more limp in his arms than before.
“Now, let’s get you set up in bed,” he said, just barely adjusting the stiff collar protecting your neck from further damage.
He had never treated one of his collection so gently before, you were special. He could see it in your eyes. There was still some stupid inkling of hope in them as you stared at his side profile, and he walked you to your resting place.
He carefully placed pillows behind you, settled you in, and covered you gently. He watched you with adoring eyes, seeing only perfection in your frozen features. He couldn’t wait for you to meet the others. Perhaps he’d wait for you to heal before he stuffed the one, you’d be replacing. You’d never be stuffed though; he’d never break you accidentally.
“You’ll be safe here, I promise,” he whispered, leaning over you.
Then he did something he’d been thinking about for weeks. He pressed a gentle kiss to your unresponsive lips. His eyes catching yours in the process and narrowing with pleasure at the way yours widened. The tip of his tongue lightly traced your lower lip and his teeth nibbled at it.
“That doesn’t mean we won’t have fun though,” he groaned.
---
He was far more insane than you originally thought. Your breath caught painfully in your chest, he had reduced your medication some, but something was wrong. You still couldn’t move. You had passed out at some point the night or maybe day, he had cut you open. You awoke to being able to feel things again, specifically the sensation of his fingers trailing gently over your collarbones, plucking lazily at the buttons on your blouse.
But then the pain came and the nauseating way your head seemed to be floating away from body. There was a persistent throb in your neck, so deep you were certain you shouldn’t be feeling it. You gasped, finally able to make a sound to express your discomfort.
Your eyes fought to wrench open against the grit cementing them close, “H-hurts.”
You couldn’t think of anything beyond that, beyond the endless ache. You were sure it probably hurt more than you felt, you knew you should feel more pain. But you didn’t, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the medications, he was giving you or whatever he had done to you yesterday.
“Don’t worry, the pain medications will kick in soon,” he soothed beside you, and there was a shift in the bed, and suddenly his hand wasn’t touching you, but a welcoming cool cloth brushed over your still lowered lids.
“Why?” you asked.
“Well got to take care of you, who else will? I can’t break my favorite toy,” he said calmly, like it was the most obvious answer.
When the cloth traveled lower you looked over at him, at the blonde hair and warm honey gaze you thought perhaps you could trust at one point. Was that Tsukishima all a lie? Or was he buried still beneath the psychosis?
“There you go,” he murmured, and you realized he had unbuttoned your shirt and was slowly wiping your body clean. “You are so beautiful, my little doll.”
Your eyes rolled down, staring at the way he watched the cloth roll over your pebbling nipples, the sensation dulled by the roaring ache in your body. Then much to your horror he leaned down to follow the cloth with his tongue, looking at you through hooded eyes. It was a sight that likely would have driven you mad with desire just a mere forty-eight hours earlier. To have such a gorgeous man Tsukishima Kei worshipping your breasts and staring at you like he could barely contain himself. But your innocent crush now had blood splashed all over it and instead of looking gorgeous and lustful you saw madness carefully encapsulated in the shimmer of his eyes.
His teeth scraped across your nipple, tugging it lightly and you hated the feeling, but you couldn’t look away from his magnetic stare. He was right though, the medications were working, and you could feel the pain ebbing away. So that all you could focus on was the sensation of his possessive touch on your hip, the way his free hand dragged the still damp cloth over your ribs.
“Stop,” you whispered, your voice raspy and fragile.
Your skin trembled in his touch, making you all the more aware of how detached you felt from your body. He smirked, a devilish curl of his lip against your soft flesh, as he dragged his tongue to follow the cool path of moisture left by the towel. Nuzzling his nose against the fat of your tits, he bit down against your other nipple and finally you responded, finally you felt a dulled spark of pleasure. It turned your stomach, but his eyes seemed to glow with satisfaction.
“Good, I think that’s enough for today, we have plenty of time and I really shouldn’t have pushed you at all when you are healing, but you should see how delicious you look,” Tsukishima said, as it that excused him, as if the fact you needed to heal at all was ok because it was his fault.
You glared at him, but even that felt exhausting, how were you so tired after just waking up? What had he done to you? What was taking such a toll on you? You blinked at him blearily as he carefully buttoned up your shirt again and this sense of comfort overtook you knowing that you were at least covered. It nearly made you laugh because you couldn’t exactly stop him from stripping you in your sleep.
But instead, you let sleep take you into it’s shadowy fingers again, falling asleep to the feeling of Tsukishima’s hand sifting through your hair.
----
He held the flat blade, trailing it down your legs with a look of utter rapture and contemplation all at once. He usually removed these the first night. But they looked so lovely on you, he desperately wanted you to keep them. He hummed thoughtfully.
“What are you… doing?” you asked, he glanced up.
“Debating, I’ve steered away from making you complete because… honestly, I already feel like you are complete,” he murmured, tipping the knife on its point to trace a light circle over the joint of your knee.
You blinked in confusion for a moment, he could see you trying to puzzle things out and he waited to see that look of shock, which look he absolutely loved on your pretty features. Ah, there it was. The way your face morphed not in just shock but almost horror. Though you tried to control it, not like it wasn’t obvious how normal people felt about Kei’s needs and wants, he found it cute that you tried to hide it.
“I’ll stay, I won’t fight you,” you babbled, begged.
He grinned, thin and like the blade poised in his hand, “You can’t fight me. It’s just… will cutting them off make you even better?”
You trembled and your chin jerked as you tried to shake your head.
His grin grew, growing more maniacal, “Don’t worry, like I said, you are already perfect. And it’s not like you can escape. You need me now, just like I need you.”
He wanted to say he still saw the love and adoration in your eyes. There was a part of him that craved that as much as he craved the fear he saw in your weak trembling limbs. But he didn’t see it, not a spark, though the pity he saw, he knew he could manipulate it. He’d done so before. Kei knew you still had hope that somehow this would turn out for the better. That somehow, he would turn out to be the good man you had originally thought he was. When did you turn into such an optimist?
He moved up your body, taking care to drag the flat of the blade along the center of your torso, all the way up to your quivering throat until he moved your chin higher with it, forcing your pain clouded eyes to meet his. He studied your expression, tilting his head like a curious predator.
“You need more meds,” he murmured.
You shook your head in a desperate jerking motion, hoping to deter him. But he could see the agony starting to grow in your countenance.
“Don’t argue,” he rolled his eyes. “You won’t want to be without it.”
He injected the IV attached to your arm with the medication and soon your eyelids were fluttering. If Kei was honest with himself, he could barely wait, the only thing stopping him was the fact that you needed to heal lest he kill you and break his favorite doll he had ever found before the fun even got a chance to start.
He pressed his lips as he watched you slip farther into sleep, seeing the rise and fall of your chest, his greedy eyes tracing your body. He brushed his finger along the blade in his hand with impatience slowly bubbling in his chest. He needed something to take the edge off. He wandered away in hopes that one of the others could satisfy his urges.
---
This was how the last few days, or maybe weeks went, in a drug induced haze where you drifted in and out of sleep, and Tsukishima spent time caring for you. There was a part of you that had begun to crave his touch, his company, it kept your mind from spinning into the dark pit of despair just waiting to engulf you. There wasn’t much to do now except think too much about everything, especially since you’d gotten better and now realized you were paralyzed for the most part.
One arm could move though it was flimsy and not well coordinated, you could talk, move your head now, but you were still completely reliant on Tsukishima. The thought you would need the man who had caused this to care for you for the rest of your life, made you cry regularly. You weren’t sure why he kept you alive, but he had become much more affectionate with you. Even if you were spitting out vitriol or begging for freedom.
His hands wandered when he wiped you down, cupping your breasts, your thighs, putting just enough pressure that you could feel it to through the tingling numbness now overtaking your body. Nothing was sacred, he had seen everything, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he crossed that line.
“I think it’s time you finally get your face made up,” Tsukishima said one day.
Your drugs had been tapering off, you seemed to get them less often or maybe it was less of a dose because you were finding yourself more coherent.
“What do you mean?” you asked, did this mean you were going to be killed?
You weren’t sure if you were ready to die, but was this really living?
“Make up, got to keep my doll pristine now that she is ready to join the others,” he said with a twisted smile.
Others? Were there others that were still alive like you? He sat beside you, and to be honest the tickle of the brush, the thick application of stain and gloss was oddly wonderful. It felt soothing to have him stroke over your face, pamper you for a totally unnecessary reason, and for a moment you could forget this man so carefully dolling you had held you captive. You could forget that he had paralyzed you.
It didn’t last long though, because soon that maniacal glint was back in his eye as he dragged his thumb along the bottom line of your lip, cleaning up some gloss. The smile he sent you was too wide, too excited, and it crashed upon you with a panic inducing sharpness. This was your life now, either that or it was death, but you couldn’t even choose that for yourself.
“Now. Now is the time,” he whispered, voice husky, needy as he stared down at you with quickly growing pupils.
Small parts of you shivered under his touch as he finally began to look at you as more than just an object, he finally looked at you as something to defile. His fingers were dizzying as they made their way across your skin and over your clothes, undoing buttons one by one. His eyes were darkening slowly as they swept across new skin that he’d seen before but never in this sort of situation.
He worked you free of your shirt methodically, brushing his long fingers over your flesh as if he were anointing it, and you wondered if you could really feel it or if it was because you were seeing it that your mind was playing tricks on you. He leaned down to lick a freed nipple and scrape his teeth across it. There, you could definitely feel that. The little spark of pleasure caused by his teeth that caused your stomach to squirm in revulsion.
“Ah, you like a little pain,” Tsukishima grinned, and you wanted to scream that you didn’t, that you just couldn’t feel it otherwise.
But he was pinching his nails tightly around your other nipple, causing the parts of your body that would respond to jerk violently. A salacious moan dripped from your throat, only growing in volume as he left a bite on the soft skin of your breast. You were horrified, tears pricked your eyes painfully, you hated that he could make you feel good. You bit back another groan in hopes of making him frustrated, but your dreams were dashed, and he laughed instead.
“That’s right, make me work for it,” he hissed.
Was this still Tsukishima? His persona, the person you had felt yourself falling for was so different than this pure insanity that lay behind the mask. He sank his teeth into your side, sucking lustfully at the skin until you were certain it would break it, he pulled away with blood staining his teeth. But the mark was small, it wasn’t nearly as bad as what he had caused with his scalpel.
He leaned in and whispered, “Taste yourself.”
Then he kissed you. Tsukishima had done a lot of things, but he’d never kissed you on the lips this deeply until now. The kiss was sickly sweet, but easily addictive. It was with this action you forgot you hated this man, you forgot who or what he was. The coppery tang of blood didn’t matter, and your mind was drifting in ecstasy.
His tongue slid over your lip, and you welcomed it as it burned across your own. So warm and wet and sinful, it pressed and pushed until you were moaning, and his fingers were working on your zipper. He kissed you like a lover, with a tongue rolling across yours and consuming you so completely it was only natural to give in. You wanted him and your hand twitched with the need to wrap around him.
“Such a good little doll,” he murmured as he pulled back just far enough that his breath still brushed your lips.
You looked up at him through a lustful haze only for it to be broken as he dragged your pants down your lifeless legs. Desire changed to fear within a second, you didn’t want this. But you knew whether you wanted it or not didn’t matter, he would give it to you. He would take it from you.
He hovered over you as you panicked, and you could see the calculating glee in his maddened eyes as his fingers lingered on the edge of your panties. They danced along the delicate lace he placed upon your body just moments before.
“Tuskishima,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and weak as your throat trembled with terror. “Don’t.”
“Don’t?” he mocked. “You wouldn’t be telling me what to do? Or are you begging for your purity, something I know you don’t have.”
You just wanted to move, you just wanted to run. You desperately, frantically, focused on trying to move your legs, but they didn’t respond. He slipped his fingers past the last barrier to where your body betrayed you. You could feel him glide through the slick glistening on your pussy and you nearly cried, instead you bit down on your lip, refusing to let him get such a reaction.
He watched you through honeyed eyes as you fought against yourself. His fingers traced your clit, which you were distinctly aware you could barely feel. Then they traveled lower to where your walls stayed slack.
“Can already fit two fingers in you,” he said. “So sloppy already.”
He pushed in and you felt pressure but nothing else, no pain, no pleasure. It wasn’t uncomfortable, it just was completely against what you wanted. Tears pricked your eyes, and you shook your head slowly.
“Please, stop,” your voice was trembling and finally the tears spilled over, and you could feel the heat of them drip down your cheeks.
As he plowed through your sloppy cunt he kissed his way up your body, slow and lazy. There was something in the way Kei kissed, even when his insanity had a strong hold, there was something sweet about it, gentle. They often tickled, so light you could barely feel until his teeth nipped at your skin and then you arced your neck. A groan would follow but still it was like there were two of him warring for control. The one violating your folds, and the one kissing your limp body like it was an altar.
His thumb dragged over your lower lip as he jabbed at a spot inside your cunt that finally sent off a dull sensation. But to you after not feeling anything it was like lightning. Violent pleasure racked your frame, and he chuckled above you before he replaced his thumb with his mouth.
His tongue swept over yours, rolling against the roof of your mouth. It was a toxic kiss, drowning you in pleasure as his fingers slammed against that spot inside you again and again. You couldn’t breathe easily. It was hard to think with him scooping out everything you were, who you used to be, and rearranging it so easily. You couldn’t even fight against him; you didn’t want to. It felt good. It was the first sensation that felt purely good in weeks, or was it months, you couldn’t tell.
You could feel parts of your brain lighting up. Parts that had been darkened for so long. It sparked like a violent fork of lightening across your neuro pathways, and it was so similar to an orgasm. Except so full and emotional, like every stress and fear you’d felt shattered away. You broke away from Kei’s all-consuming kiss so you could gasp in air. Your eyelids fluttered and your chest heaved in a staccato rhythm.
When the world stopped shaking and tumbling around you everything came back into focus and Kei was the first thing you saw. His face looked intrigued, maliciously pleased, but you realized he’d pulled free from your cunt, licking drops of your slick from his fingers.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone orgasm after the surgery,” he whispered, his voice nearly trembling with excitement. “I knew it. I always knew you were the one. Now it’s been confirmed.”
You shook your head, your brain fogged and confused, “The one for what?”
“People always leave me, and my dolls they always die eventually. But you are strong, you can’t leave now, and you’ve survived everything with far better outcomes than anyone else. It was always a learning process. I never graduated from medical school. Working in the morgue was my fall back. Turned out to be the perfect cover story,” Kei said, his voice had turned soft now, contemplative as he began to clean up.
You were grateful that it seemed he was done for the day. But as per usual you read the situation wrong, entirely wrong. Slowly Kei pulled out a beautifully shining revolver. Something old, something heavy, something he took care of. Your jaw tensed as he rolled the bullet chamber and you listened to each section click into place until it finally slowed to a stop.
“Did you know, if you add fear to sex that the orgasm is often stronger?” Kei said, and once again his voice was calm, pensive.
It was as if he wasn’t talking about pointing a gun at you while fucking into your disabled body. It was as if he wasn’t threatening to accidentally pull the trigger and possibly kill you. He’d already maimed you it couldn’t get much worse, right? Yet still you wanted to live, that innate desire to survive filled you. You watched him with wide eyes as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt.
He revealed beautifully pale skin, a lanky and lightly muscled body. It was something you would normally want; it was something you would normally beg to touch. But every ounce of romance had been stripped away, hadn’t it? Still, you felt your heart speed up and you were certain that it wasn’t from fear. There was an anxious desire in your heart, a need to make him happy.
You weren’t sure when that had started to happen. You were certain it was a thing before he had abducted you. Yet you couldn’t be sure. That life, when you went to work everyday, drank coffee, ate foods, and god forbid were able to walk, seemed like so long ago. Was this even your life anymore, weren’t you someone else now?
So, didn’t it make sense that you found yourself caught up in his web, letting him lead you down every path? You followed Kei willingly now, so quickly, after he showed you just a little bit of pleasure. He called you special, he wouldn’t hurt you. So, when he put the gun to your temple after he was naked and your eyes were flicking in mild terror from his face to his long cock, you knew you wouldn’t even try to talk your way out of this.
Instead, you tilted your chin, leaning into the cool metal as it trailed down your cheek and pressed into the bottom of your jaw. You felt the exit of where the bullet would come out bite deep into your flesh when Kei slid inside your body, sighing as if your cunt was made for him. As if he was coming home after days of being away.
He leaned over you, his body bowing as he watched with eager eyes while he tracked the silver barrel of a gun dragging over your skin. Slowly it stopped right above your ribcage, where your heart beat somewhere in your chest. You swallowed and you were certain it was thumping from the way you could feel the blood pound in your neck.
You both looked at the way your breast dimpled each time he fucked up into you and it pressed against the muzzle. You shivered; you knew it would be so easy for him to lose his grip. There was no safety, you both could get hurt. You could die! But neither of you tried to stop it, you didn’t argue with him, and Kei in fact began to move faster.
“You look so scared,” he hissed, and he was right, you could feel how big your eyes were.
“You’re scared but not one little worry passed those lips, not one scream for me to stop. In fact, you’re so sloppy wet it’s almost disgusting,” he smiled widely, all sharp and predatory that it almost reminded you of a dog baring its teeth, “almost.”
He made sure you knew he was enjoying it, “You’re such a good fuck doll. Made so perfect for me. I made you like this.”
You couldn’t help yourself, you responded, and you hated it. Your body tightened around him; your breath became shallow as you whined every time you were blessed with a moment of dull, pleasurable sensation. He grunted above you with pure ecstasy. But never once did his hand waver, and never once did his gaze move from either your face or the metal pressed against your chest.
His other hand pressed one of your limp legs down against your chest and right as things began to feel better, the dull throb began to become noticeable all the time, Kei pulled the hammer back on the revolver. You heard the subtle click and your heart jumped. Your breathing turned into desperate gasps. Your wide eyes stared as the gun rocked with each of his motions and his finger grew taught on the trigger each time he pulled back.
Your gaze flicked to his face, and he smiled at you, staring at your features now, the terror that stained them. You trembled even as you felt your walls attempt to flutter.
“That’s it,” he hissed. “Cum for me.”
You did, and then through narrowed eyes you saw him cum. You saw the rapture on his face. You saw the way his lips parted slightly and heard the soft groan that left his lips. You also saw his finger squeeze. You heard the hammer click down. The last thing you saw as darkness overtook your mind, was Kei’s satiated face.
CW: Not sfw, Nontraditional omegaverse, au fantasy, yandere bakugou, fem reader, dub-con, age difference, breeding kink, abduction, murder, violence, gore
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Chapter One: Across the Battlefield
The smell of steel and sweat filled the air, pheromones swirled through the sky from the odd alpha in the ranks. You stood at the front of your fighters, shifting the weapons in your hands, adjusting from foot to foot. Soft puffs of air filled your cheeks as you focused on loosening your muscles, on readying yourself.
Snarling, you bared your small fangs, before turning to face your troops, “Men, women, alphas, betas! We are one! We all stand together, before the behemoth, before our enemy, before the demon that has claimed the other packs! We are all that stands between their never-ending quest for power and our homes, our loved ones! AND WE WILL BE THE LAST THING THEY EVER SEE!”
The roar of the people behind you, pressed hard against your face, rising the short hackles along your neck. You growled and rose your voice with your peoples in a challenge to those across the battlefield when you turned to glare at your enemies. The man standing directly beyond you sneered, lifting his lip slightly to show a slight flash of large dual alpha fangs. His crimson eyes narrowed, and he filled his lungs, before opening his mouth in an answering bellow that his pack soon took up.
The silence that fell after the echoes drifted away, was deafening, and a chill crept along your spine causing your skin to prickle. Neither of the two sides moved, waiting to see who would break first. You placed a foot forward and the shield bearers behind you took up a rhythm, tapping their short swords against the metal on the other side of their arms.
The cacophony soothed your omega while the few strands of alpha DNA inside you snapped forward, and your form hunched. Your muscles tensed in your calves, your hips dropped, and your stance widened. The two curved blades gripped in your hands grounded you with their weight and their promise to see you through this.
You cast a glance behind you and said just loud enough to be picked up by a few of your soldiers, “Move.”
The rhythm changed and as soon as the entire row of shield bearers pushed forward to engulf you, your ranks bursting forth with a roar. All the army on the other side saw as a warning was the unnerving smile on your face before you disappeared in the seething mass of clanging metal.
“MEET THEM!” the red-eyed alpha screamed, and there was the sound of popping from his hands as he propelled himself to do just that.
His quirk had something to do with detonations, you noticed in annoyance. Various quirks on your side went off as those with alphen properties met in battle. Otherwise, it was just the sounds of screaming, steel screeching against steel, and wood creaking under the weight of onslaught. The whistle of arrows being loosed from your marksmen sang through the sky. The shrieks of the first blows hitting their marks joined the deadly orchestra.
Anyone you faced only smelled an alpha, not an omega. You were an alpha who was protecting her homeland, to them. You snarled and growled, forced back as you avoided slashes to vital parts. However, you voiced your displeasure as your arm got nicked when sharp metal bit through your armor.
Yet it didn’t take long for the smell of blood and the taste of it, to take over. For you to forget anything other than fighting, protecting, and killing. Fear was no longer a worry, pain nothing more than fuel to get up again and again, to try harder.
It’s when you were cutting down an enemy soldier and wiping blood from a cut on your cheek, that you saw him. His hand spasming lightly and he seemed to have traded out his quirk for a bastard sword, he glanced up and was just in time for you to see his eyes widen minutely when you start toward him on a full out run.
----
Your eyes were feral, blood, both yours and that which belonged to others, was smeared across you and there was a tug of respect in Bakugo for a moment. You started towards him with no fear, a toothy, half smirk was curving your lips and he turned to meet you.
You smelled like an alpha, but he caught a glimpse of your teeth when he met your blades head on, and he narrowed his eyes in confusion. There was only a singular set of sharp slightly shorter cuspids, and even as he blocked you blow for blow, he searched his brain. Letting his nose inhale, searching for pheromones.
Even through the muddle of dirt, sweat, blood, and other bodily fluids he’d rather not name; he could smell a mix of chocolate, coffee, and a floral vanilla. The smell confused him, but it made his mouth water, and made his alpha distinctly say, ‘mate’.
“Omega?” he asked, even as he parried another blow.
The grin on your lips widened, “What’s wrong? Your Alpha insulted that an omega is giving you a run for your coin?”
He growled, the sound seeming to echo through his bones while his strikes became harder, faster. No longer on the defensive he pushed into the offensive. However, knowing you were on the other side of his blade and were an omega, made a sense of awe fill him. You were… stronger, faster, and more fearless than any other omega he’d met. Most never even stepped foot on the battlefield and was it him or was your scent addicting.
His sword vibrating in his hand, the steps he took forward only to be matched when he thought for sure you’d take a step back, it all gripped him in silent amazement. However, he carefully kept his trademark scowl and his snarl.
“You wish, little thing. You aren’t meant to be on a battlefield, go home,” he spat with derision.
He watched your nostrils flare, anger flickering in your eyes as you roared your disapproval and caught his sword in between both of yours. His eyes widened, especially when he felt the weapon pried from his blood and sweat slicked grip. Next thing he knew there was leg at the back of his knee, and he was falling, seeing nothing but the blue sky for a few seconds.
Your face took the place of the heavens, and he winced as he felt the sharp, cold edge of your blade press into his throat. The rest of the battle had faded. He knew he still had enough in him to blast you off. The others knew not to interrupt his fights. But they would come to his rescue if he called, though the thought made him gag.
Yet, he didn’t want to win at that moment, instead he watched your chest heave above him and your wild gaze. All he knew was that he’d finally found the appropriate omega to rule by his side. They would retreat, for now. But nothing would stop him from having you.
CW: implication of stalking, dub-con, kabedon dark content style, mature content, fem reader
A/N: One day I will find my way back to this style
----
You probably should have been more aware that night. Probably should have been listening to the steady thud of the boots behind you because he sure wasn’t trying to cover up his footsteps. Instead you were to focused on the glow of your phone and taking slow drags from your cigarette. Letting the nicotine lovingly caress your lungs and shoot of shocks of endorphins through your system. Even with the stress relief you still managed to regularly cuss out the messages appearing in front of you.
“Stupid, fucking…,” you muttered, probably a bit too loudly, because a choked back laugh sounded and that’s when you realized that those steady beats had been the noise of someone following you for close to twenty minutes.
God, you were dense. Your steps became less harried, but you didn’t stop instead you kept your phone in front of you and your eyes flicked to each side to take in your surroundings. Fuck, you were lost. How unlucky could you get? The one night some creep decides to follow you and you get so sucked into your friend’s misfortunate choices that you take a wrong turn into some seedy part of the city.
“Don’t act like you don’t know I’m here, doll, it hurts my feelings,” the sweet tone to his voice was followed by a chuckle.
You didn’t engage, you couldn’t let yourself fall into his trap. But apparently your admirer…or stalker? Did not appreciate being ignored, because the next thing you knew you were being shoved up against the rough brick of a near by building, hands stopping your from falling face first against it and in the process losing your access to nicotine. All followed by the sound of a heavy palm slamming above you, causing your head to snap up to it.
“There we go, such beautiful eyes when they are wide and nervous, doll face,” his voice was gruff and rubbed across your senses tauntingly.
His breath feathered over your nape, and he scoffed, “Fragile little things like you shouldn’t be out at night on their own, you know? There are some nasty people in this part of town.”
His teeth nipped at your ear lobe, and you shuddered, though you couldn’t tell if it was from revulsion or from the heat coiling in your stomach. You turned your head just barely and when you met no resistance you shifted to your back.
The gaze that met yours was so impossibly blue, and a mix of dulled pain with a deepness that would drown you if weren’t careful. His skin seemed to be held together by staples and there were obvious seams where scars made his skin into patchwork designs. This man, you’d seen him on the news.
“You’re…” you swallowed as his other hand came up to the side of your head.
You were scared, nervous, and burning hot in the way that made your thighs ache to rub together. He just radiated arrogance and power; it drew you in like a moth to his blue flames. You knew you’d burn alive as soon as you touched them, and sadly, you found your self-preservation slipping even more.
“What, doll? Who am I?” he grinned toothily, dull eyes sparking for a moment with sadistic pleasure.
“You’re the Blue Flame…,” you said with hitch in your breath.
He clicked his tongue, “Yes, but you can call me Dabi. We are after all, about to get to know each other quite well, aren’t we?
You tilted your head, “Are we?”
His smirk was back, and he gripped your chin, “Oh, a bit of the brat is back, is she? That’s fine, I can take my time making you beg.”
He rubbed his thumb along your lower lip, dragging it down before lapping lightly at it with just the tip of his tongue, watching the entire time with those intense eyes. When your eyelids fluttered traitorously his lips pressed to yours, rolling and brushing against the softness of your skin. Teasing tiny touches, never pushing deeper and then when you whined, he responded by gripping the back of your neck tight, forcing your head to tilt up as he licked into your mouth when it fell open on a moan.
The stud on his tongue blazed a distracting path along your palate. And you could just barely keep up, because honestly you were still stuck on the fact that not only was this man a villain, and a big one. You also didn’t know him; and he’d been following you. Yet here you were, unable to do anything but whine and whimper into his mouth because he kissed like a fucking gift from god.
“Don’t worry, we got all night. And I plan to make use of every second.”
AN: Because @crowned-peony asked for this update
CW: CW: Not SFW, Dabi x Fem Reader, Hades!Dabi, Mentions of Ancient Greek Lore, Based on Persephone and Hades, War, Pre-Apocalypse, Plot Heavy, Slow Burn, Violence
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Chapter Three: Making Nice with the Newbies
Dabi tapped his fingers against the pedestal, frowning at the shimmer of the heavens surrounding him. He remembered once when Olympus had belonged to the old gods. It never looked like this back in his day, didn’t have this sterile and pristine look to it. His lips pulled back from his teeth. How did they not feel like complete filth just existing in this place? It made his skin crawl and the desire to spit upon stupid shiny statues gripped him tightly.
Even the thrones, which the six current deities sat in, were a confusing mix of gold and opalescent white, it made Dabi nauseous. He wasn’t someone that belonged in Olympus anymore, let alone somewhere so pure. It made him feel tainted, and he didn’t need any help feeling anymore damaged than he already was.
Now it was in the hands of the new world’s deities, born anew and ruined all at the same time and fuck did they keep struggling to do their jobs. He rolled his eyes as the other Grecians went about kowtowing to the new gods.
He was the only one that stood without even considering bowing to them. Among the five of them, however, only Nike (Bakugou as his new name was) and Shouto (Boreas) kneeled. Which would have been expected in their times. Hygieia who he now knew as Chisaki, and Ate who now took the mantel of Shigaraki, only swept into bows at the waist.
Dabi’s lip curled in derision as one of the gods spoke up, “Please rise, we did not invite you here to have you subservient to us. This problem is too great to have any power struggles present.”
They sounded so high and mighty, when literally they were slaves to the humans’ thoughts, just like he was and had been even more so in the past. The looks he got from his brethren could probably have frozen him on the spot, he couldn’t stop himself from winking at them in response.
“Right, well what did the fledglings call us here for?” Dabi asked, inspecting his fingernails with feigned interest, smirking at the hisses of annoyance that surrounded him.
“Ah Hades, we’ve heard of you,” the one who spoke was nothing more than a shimmering yellow light in humanoid shape.
“Oh? I hope it was good things,” he narrowed his eyes, though the mirth shown through knowing everything they’d heard had been far from flattering.
“Hm,” the deity across from him hummed, contemplatively. “I suppose that depends on your views. But I assume now you are the ruler of this pantheon.”
Dabi sneered, grunting noncommittally. It wasn’t a job he’d should ever have had. Not that he was truly complaining, he was the one with the most strength, and the leader of a handful of gods who never interacted wasn’t a bad gig.
“Good, then we can start,” a shimmering set of fingers were pressed together as the god seemed to think. “Well might as well be blunt. An apocalyptic scale event is about to happen, but the end of the world isn’t supposed to happen for another millennia and the humans are still supposed to have a chance to change the true event. This event is not and will not happen. As their gods we will protect them.”
Dabi frowned before his shoulders started shaking and a laugh took over his entire body, causing him to double over. The entity across from him paused in its speech. Once again, the others of his blood hissed at him to be quiet.
“We aren’t their gods anymore,” he snapped, his laughing stopping suddenly and his eyes growing cold. “They forsook us for you. Why do you need our help?”
“This is no laughing matter Hades,” the god shifted to lean over their lap, annoyance clear in their posture even without a face. “Without the humans all of you will disappear, just like us. Only those from the ancient times can find the human who harbors the key and only she can wake the Titans.”
Dabi let his eyes fall shut and he sighed, like this entire situation was filled with stupidity, “That’s impossible, the one who was entrusted with the key to Tartarus was my wife, Persephone, and she’s been… dead for centuries.”
“Yes, she has, but even gods get second lives dear Hades,” they said calmly.
He swore then that the world stopped, his breath hitching painfully in his chest. He felt lost, alone, and powerless, like he wasn’t surrounded by some of the most powerful beings on the planet, like he wasn’t one of those most powerful beings. Dabi had never felt this out of control, even when she’d died, even when he’d lost his powers. Everything he knew had been snatched from him at that moment and his arrogance faded. He looked at the shimmering shape in front of him with, dare he say, hope.
“What is your plan?” he whispered; voice hoarse.
“We need to find the key’s human body,” the god said seeming to sigh. “It won’t be easy. And the process of waking its past energy may take a toll on its mortal form in the beginning.”
Dabi’s nails sank into the meat of his palm, the desire to snarl and deny them bubbling up within his chest painfully, blue flames licking at the backs of his hands. He needed to calm down, he needed to control himself, if he didn’t, he could fuck this all up. If it was true, that Persephone had been reborn and was lying dormant somewhere then it was just as important that he helped her live through the wakening.
This apocalypse could kill her, would kill her. And he wouldn’t lose her again, she was his. She wasn’t allowed to leave his side, not the first time and certainly not a second. He’d see to it himself.
“Count me in,” he said.
Shouto nodded, Bakugou grumbled but didn’t argue, Shigaraki, and Chisaki nodded, silently filled the room with their miniscule auras. Everyone supported him, another of their family was down in the human realm, alone and ignorant, they had to find her.
CW: Not SFW, Dark Content, Yandere, Fem Reader, Reader Death, Major Character Death, Non-Con elements, Dubious Consent, A/B/O Dynamics, Forced Mating Bond, Omegaverse, Piss Kink, Scent Kink, Biting, Possessive Behavior, Knotting, Breath Play, Abduction, Slow Burn, Violence, Mild Gore, AU
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Chapter Four: Gen Pop
You hadn’t come to take of care him for weeks. Instead, a pair of male beta had taken your place. When Dabi asked about you, he received nothing more than the cold shoulder and a withering glare that made him bristle.
He felt constantly on edge, the meds seemed to be working less and less as his irritation only increased. He missed your scent, and the need to knot you only grew strong, the need to mark you. He breathed, today would be another day without you. Another day of boredom and wasting away strapped to chair.
Dabi felt like he was drowning, and there was something in the betas who had come to take care of him. A scent they gave off even if it was barely noticeable, they were scared. They knew he was growing restless. That the increase of drugs in his system was no longer working. That the memories and nightmares plaguing him were causing black outs and time loss.
He had nights where didn’t seem to sleep and days where he couldn’t remember blocks of hours. He had moments where he seemed to be sucked into the past, fighting invisible enemies, things he could barely understand, let alone protect himself from.
Today was no different, his body lurched against the restraints, even when no one was in the room he was frantic. The lasers trained on him, prepared to put him out of his misery. Yet he couldn’t control it, not when the panic and the anger was swirling through him so wildly.
Then a surge of calming pheromones flooded through the room, the scent of ripe honeydew and apple blossoms taking over every sense he had. He froze, coming back to the present and greedily sucked in the smell. The familiar promise of his omega.
His fluctuating pupils landed on you closing the door, “They hadn’t told me you’d been struggling so much. They let you get far worse than they should have.”
You walked to him, and he felt like a feral animal. Both terrified of this power you had over him and desperate to sink his teeth into your shoulder and rut his knot into you over and over, finally claim you.
“Tsk, what were they thinking, letting you get like this,” you murmured, brushing your hand along his cheek.
It was that touch, that warmth, and grounding promise of affection that snapped him back to reality. He smirked his arrogance back, his aloof attitude in control.
Dabi licked his teeth and said, “Where ya been, dollface? Missed ya. No one smells quite as good as you do.”
Your scent gushed out again, a thicker smell mixing with it and you avoided his gaze. He knew that smell, and he drank it in with desperation. His cock filling out in his pants.
“I was relocated to another side of the facility after the last incident,” you said, slipping a small package out of your coat. “They figured you would do better with a beta. Obviously, they were wrong. We also only have one other omega on staff, and their quirk wouldn’t exactly be useful against yours.”
He smirked, “So yer comin’ back now?”
“No, and yes. I am coming back to take care of you, but they have noticed that the medications aren’t working on you correctly. Yet you haven’t burnt down the place. You are being moved to the high security general population wing.”
His blue eyes widened in surprise, “Ya sure that’s smart?”
“Going to try and convince me not to give you an upgrade?” you grinned. “Doesn’t sound very ‘smart’ on your part, Dabi.”
He barked out a laugh, “True, no reason to look a gift horse in the mouth suppose. Question. Ya said you were taking care of me? But I’m headin’ to the gen pop floor?”
“Mmm, I’d work there to keep you… calm shall we say. My superiors have noticed you seem better around me. And I’m not exactly useless when it comes to controlling large crowds,” you hummed as you checked his numbers.
Frowning you double checked the chart. Then the machines again.
“How are you even functional with this much pumping into you?” you mumbled tapping on your tablet and then shaking your head. “They should have told me much sooner.”
“Ya have far too soft a heart, doll,” he grinned. “Carin’ so much for a criminal.”
“I just care in general, Dabi,” you responded, brushing off his fishing.
The grin on his face dropped, a frown furrowing his brow instead. You finished writing down new numbers and he looked up when you scent suddenly became muted, he noticed you had pushed you coat to the side, and exposed you scent gland to press a patch onto it. He felt drool pooling in his mouth so fast he had to gulp it down.
You shoulder was so enticing, the tiny shimmer of your gland that he managed to see before you covered it by the cellophane-look of the patch was better than any porn or naked body he had ever seen. That’s where he would bite you. That’s where he would claim you. He watched you nonchalantly slip your clothes back into place, like you hadn’t just exposed your naked mating gland to a horny inmate. To the man who would be claiming you as soon as possible.
“So Dabi, let’s get you fed, and we can go over what happens in general population, hm? There’s different rules there of course, you will have more freedom,” you said as you sat in front of him with his meal.
“More freedom always sounds like a good thing,” he said with raised brow. “But ya said you’ll be with me, right?”
He tried to make it sound curious, not come off like some anxious alpha. Dabi knew he needed to be strong to garner your interest. At least that’s what his instincts told him, and lately that’s the only constant he had.
“Mmm, I will to some extent. I won’t be there all day or night. I will be there during times of distress, you can ask for me at any time, and I will be there during rest periods and right before lights out to check on your mental state,” you said calmly, as if this was just a job to you.
This was just a job to you, he reminded himself with an internal snarl. That’s why he had to convince you to make it more than that. He’d have ample opportunities now though, ample opportunities to make you his. He almost purred at the thought but quickly pulled himself back under control. Instead focusing on eating. On the way your subtle scent still teased his nose. You were his, and no one would be taking you away. He’d make sure of that.
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