Up to Chap 3 is published and free on kindle vella
Maalik Hyacinth is a patient in Charleston Psychiatric Hospital unlucky enough to find what lurks behind the forgotten ninth wing, and the m
This is an original book, please be aware it is a dark, horror romance. It is updated every other week.
Maalik Hyacinth is a patient in Charleston Psychiatric Hospital unlucky enough to find what lurks behind the forgotten ninth wing, and the more he learns the more his insanity takes over. Eventually Dr. Keira Faye is called to take him on as a patient as he struggles. While the walls of reality and sanity crumble around Maalik he seeks solace in Keira, finding love for the first time. It doesn't take long for the mysteries to finally unravel and Maalik's life to entirely change.
(If dark romance isn't your thing, in December I am releasing my fantasy series The Vessel of the Flame)
Had an absolute shit day and poor Casper couldnt even help because my skin was so sensitive to touch it couldnt even handle DPT. Poor boy kept alerting and looking at me like 'i need to halp' but i couldnt let him. He was so confused. Taken emergency medications and about to sleep. Got barely any writing done today but thankfully got a ton done yesterday and the day before.
A/N: Please read CW before continuing, this is my darkest work and not for those easily offended. This is part of my contribution to @cyancherub ‘s Wheel of Misfortune collab.
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
Summary: You are a mere secretary in the city’s busiest hospital, however with your current lack of luck you have caught the eye of a serial killer who likes to turn his victims into living dolls. It’s all you can do to survive when you can’t even speak unless he lets you.
---
Part Three: I can give you life with just a single whisper
Tsukishima could not believe how lucky he was, you had come to him. No one else had ever created a bond with him on their own. He had always needed to make sure they stayed. That they couldn’t run. When you showed up at the hospital a couple of days before you were supposed to be back, a few hours after he dumped the last body, he couldn’t stop the smirk that wormed its way onto his lips.
You were so stupid. So beautifully fucking naïve. He was going to ruin every innocent part of you. He wanted to see you covered in red, sticky streaks of your own blood as he cut your skin apart. He wanted to watch tears roll over your face and spoil the makeup he’d carefully brush across your cheeks. His hands quivered. You would be worth keeping.
He would destroy the current you, only to keep you immaculate for years as the twisted visage his mind craved. He sat across from you in the doctor’s lounge, drinking tea silently while he watched you practically shake in front of him. Kei’s face was a careful mask of neutral curiosity, something a stranger should express when a coworker drags them out of wrist deep stomach contents and sample collecting.
You hadn’t given him much of a reason, but he could taste the fear rolling off you. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what gruesome little thoughts your mind was spinning, how they tortured you with flickering shadows and imaginary voices. It was funny, he didn’t quite know why you sought solace in him, but he had to bite back a laugh at just how broken your radar for danger was.
He took another sip of his berry laced green tea as he waited for your eyes to stop darting and your fingers to stop quivering. He was patient while you steeped in his presence, and he slowly watched you grow calmer over the minutes. In all these years of hunting for those to add to his collection, Tsukishima Kei had learned one constant above all else, patience truly was a virtue. One worth investing in.
----
You had found your blonde savior quickly enough, once you got the panic under enough control that you could figure out the subway system. It was so easy to forget something you used everyday when the rest of the world was falling apart, your very mind slipping through your frantic grasp like particles of sand. Sand that was counting down what little time you had left, and perhaps what little sanity as well.
He had welcomed you in his usual way, a cold glare and arrogant quirk of his eyebrow. The consistency had soothed your battered heart, reduced it’s panicked beats to a slower, skipping hum. His confidence radiated a calm energy, even if he was somewhat annoyed by your appearance and the fact you were interrupting his work again. But when you looked up at him, you saw a glimmer of interest in his eyes, and you assumed it was the closest thing to softness for Tsukishima Kei you would get.
You stared down at the cooling tea in your hands, watching the way the green water ripple with each of your exhales, “Did you hear about the new… one?”
It was too hard to be more specific, you couldn’t even bring yourself to say body or woman. Both made it all so much more real, so much more horrific. It made you aware that this person who was now dead, had once been living their life just like you were. It made you painfully conscious of the fact that you were just as likely to be next, like any of the women who had become before you. That they had been in your shoes once.
You swallowed drily, once again so desperately parched, and you gulped at the bitter tea in hopes to soothe yourself in more ways than one.
Tsukishima hummed affirmatively, and you were so thankful that he didn’t need you to elaborate. Your thoughts cowering away from the possibility.
“I’m still the coroner on the case,” he said with a sigh of annoyance, as if it should be obvious to you.
You wanted to be affronted with his flippant attitude, but you couldn’t be. If you’d been thinking clearly, you wouldn’t have even asked if he knew. But now… now you questioned everything.
“What happened?” he prompted, you looked up from your hands again and there was no sympathy in his eyes, just curiosity.
At least you knew what to expect with him, you huffed as you glanced off to the side and said, “They called me. From what I can tell they think I fit the killer’s preference for victims. I’m supposed to be more careful.”
Your voice trembled, and eyes warmed, the threat of tears once again pushing against your ducts.
“Hn,” he grunted, and you looked up, for some reason hoping for more. “And why did you come to me?”
That made you freeze, why had you sought him out? You knew on an instinctual level, but it made no logical sense if you were honest with yourself. You didn’t know Tsukishima, he wasn’t good at comfort, but you wanted to be treated as normally as possible, even when speaking about the darkness that had invaded your every breath.
You chewed your lower lip, not noticing the minute widening of his pupils as he watched your white teeth tear into your soft flesh. He cleared his throat, shifting, and you focused back on him, assuming he was annoyed with your silence as you mulled over your answer.
“Honestly, I don’t truly know. I do know that you treat me how I want to be treated,” you murmured, feeling an uncomfortable need to squirm as he narrowed his eyes.
“You must be a masochist,” he said nonchalantly, sipping at his tea again.
You let out a sound somewhere between a choke and a squeak and he scoffed, while you vehemently shook your head, coughing against the water invading your trachea.
“Su-ure,” he drawled, eyes sparkling with renewed interest as they roved your face.
“I come back in a couple days,” you wheezed.
Tsukishima frowned, and grunted in acknowledgement again, “So?”
You sighed, rubbing your hand over your face, “I’m scared.”
“Obviously, you’d be amazing levels of stupid if you weren’t,” once again his eyes narrowed, and he leaned his cheek against his knuckles. “Why are you telling me? Usually, people want something with this kind of leading conversation.”
You blinked, honestly you hadn’t thought beyond being in his presence and apparently spilling your guts. Shrugging a shoulder, you cleared your throat and deemed it safe to take the last sip of your tea.
“Honestly, I wasn’t leading you anywhere. I don’t know what I’d even ask for if I was going to,” you said blankly.
----
Perhaps you were stupider than he thought or maybe you were truly just pure and didn’t have a manipulative bone in your body. He shifted again and suppressed a shudder as he felt his cock harden at the possibility. God, he wanted to destroy everything you held dear. He grit his teeth, inhaling quietly in hopes to calm the aching need to cut into your soft skin, and finally mark you as his.
He wasn’t prepared yet. He needed a couple more kills under his belt here, before he went after you. Impulse control, patience. His nerves sang with excitement at the thought that you were so close, so trusting, he could ensnare you now if he let himself. Though his face didn’t twitch, his movements didn’t change, everything stayed smooth and easy, even as he was practically chomping at the bit for the chase.
He paused, silence stretching between you two and he watched for signs of fidgeting from you, pleased when it didn’t show. Perhaps even if he couldn’t start the hunt, he could set up the dominos before the fall.
“Maybe I could escort you from work, and if you live on the way, to work wouldn’t be an issue either,” he sat farther back against the chair with a feigned look of disinterest.
“I couldn’t ask you do that, Tsukishima,” you said, your eyes darting to the side.
“Well, you aren’t exactly asking, I’m offering. I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t willing to do it,” he said, his jaw twitching in annoyance.
Couldn’t you just accept his generosity? It would make things so much easier for him in the long run. He clenched his teeth, tapping his fingers impatiently along the table as you waffled with your answer.
“Let me know when you figure it out,” he sighed, pushing his chair back. “You may be on leave, but some of us are still working. So, I will see you soon, I’m sure.”
You bit your lip and once his hand landed on the doorknob, he heard you clear your throat, “Wait! A-alright. You can help me. My first stop on the way from home is the J station. I’m not sure if that’s on your route.”
“I will see you in the morning on your first day back, then,” he said, not giving you a chance to talk yourself out of it, leaving you to stew in your confusion as he stepped out the door with a cruel smirk twisting his lips.
You were such a trusting and stupid woman. You almost took the fun out of the hunt… almost. He wasn’t sure if instead he was just more excited to have you under him, frozen, eyes wide as you felt helpless while he defiled everything you loved about yourself. He would make you his, carve himself into your body, your skin, and your mind. Nothing would be left untouched, and you would soon forget where you ended, and he began.
----
You trembled as your hand rested on the polished knob of your door. You gulped air into your lungs, even though you tried desperately to keep your breaths deep and calm, they came shallow and fast. You had to do this whether you wanted to or not. Whether your mind was right about the haunting shadows or was merely imagining the heavy stares you felt.
Clutching your thermos in your hand tightly, you opened the door with a terrified jerk, as if expecting someone to be waiting on the other side. Maybe they would slash at you with a sharp knife and laugh as your floundered before them. Maybe they would carve your chest to strips as they subdued you and stole you away to a room made for torture and smelled of death.
Yet… no one stood waiting and even though you became painfully aware of the fact you were safe in that moment; you still shook as you locked the door behind you. You still looked over your shoulder and chewed at your lip as you carefully walked down the steps to the street. Breathing even now felt far beyond your control while you made your way to the station.
The early morning crowd of people; commuters heading to the train, walking to their job, or perhaps going to grab breakfast; jostled around you. Pressing so close it felt claustrophobic but at least you knew in this dense of a group you were safe from danger. Right? Though it was hard to shake the prickle of unease at the back of your neck.
You pressed your lips together as you pushed through the turnstile, swiping your card easily. The shaking walls that surrounded you and the heavy sounds of passing trains was almost soothing, it settled your nerves. This environment was comfortable, something you had last seen when you visited Tsukishima and it was as if your brain associated that experience with the station.
You wondered if he would truly be waiting for you. Or if you would traverse this part of the journey alone, if you would be forced to play a guessing game at who was a danger and who was innocuous. Who could you trust to meld in with, and who were part of those dangerous shadows that you felt watching your every move?
When your platform came into view and the benches along the side flickered between the moving crowd, a familiar lanky profile soothed the frantic beating of your heart. His large hands were curved around a cup of coffee from the café you last met him at, and though he had his head ducked you could see the dangle of a wire from his ear. His fingers tapped along to whatever beat he heard; Tsukishima had met you after all.
“You’re here,” you said as you moved to stand in front of him.
Apparently, he only had one bud in, since his eyes flicked up immediately at your words and his face twisted into a frown that held a shadow of offence.
“I said I would be,” he bent down and picked up something sitting by his foot.
In his hand he held another, smaller coffee, and he offered it silently.
“Oh… thank you,” you whispered, suddenly feeling a rush of warmth that chased away all the negativity and anxiety from the morning.
“Let’s go, the train should be pulling up soon,” he muttered, not once acknowledging the gratitude and that just seemed to make your smile grow.
As you took your first tentative sip of the coffee it flooded you with a familiar cheer. Did he remember your drink preference from the one time he picked up your coffee at the shop? Your heart pounded harder, only this time it was for a completely different reason. You felt almost giddy.
You silently boarded the train with him, just thankful to have his steadying presence next to you. Maybe you could survive today, maybe if it continued like this not everything would be terrifying, and you would be safe.
---
As Kei looked resolutely down at his phone his lips twitched in a tiny smile. Something that was barely a phantom of a curve. You didn’t question how he knew your drink order. You didn’t know that he’d heard you order it multiple times, not just the once. How could you when you were so busy worrying about everything but the one person you should be worried about?
On the outside he looked like he was ignoring you, but in reality, it felt like every nerve in his body was painfully away of what you did, when you breathed, and where you were. You were so silent, you were more fidgety than usual, and he could practically feel your anxiety buzzing against his skin.
Each stop seemed to make your nerves grow, until it was impossible for him to ignore. So, his head snapped up, his facial features carefully shifting into a thin-lipped scowl, and his hand clapped over yours on the stability pole.
“Stop,” he hissed, just loud enough for you to hear.
You jumped under his grip, his fingers tightened just barely, and his golden eyes narrowed. He clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. Your gaze dropped from him immediately, shame evident in your stance. It frustrated him, that you couldn’t look at him, that you were ashamed of your own fear. Something he had created in you, something that was completely valid, and he would never let you feel embarrassed of an emotion he instilled.
“You are fine,” he growled, his voice broaching for no argument and demanding you listen.
Your fingers trembled under his, muscles jumped in your body next to his. Yet he didn’t soften, instead he tilted his chin, looked down his nose at you, practically reared up and forced his presence on you.
“Say it,” he murmured, his fingers tracing circular patterns softly along the inside of your wrist while his glare steeled.
You looked up at him, eyes not quite meeting his and whispered, “I’m fine.”
“Now say it again, and mean it,” this time he softened his voice, a soothing praise laced through his words and touch even though his demanding stare never lessened, and he never verbally acknowledged you.
Your eye flickered up to meet his, “I am fine.”
A smile twitched across his face, “Good girl.”
He watched you light up under his words and the desire to laugh, to tuck his fingers under your jaw, almost won him over. Instead, he turned back to his phone, removing his hand from around yours. He wanted to play with you so much, to lead you bit by bit, and yet each time he had to back off. Slowly, frustration was building under his skin, and he felt like his nerves were twitching. Tonight, he’d need to start hunting again.
He continued to scroll through the news on his phone, keeping careful note of the highlights surrounding those who didn’t meet his collection’s standards. His eyes skipped over to you, seeing you drink from the coffee he’d brought you while your thermos was strapped down across your bag. He was pleased he’d chosen to pick up something for you, something extra to gain more of your trust. To throw you off your balance, with each little nudge you’d fall over that ledge into his clutches.
The ride to work was quiet, filled with air brakes and sliding train doors, low murmurs of passengers and the smell of early morning coffee. It was an easy ride, and even though your eyes still occasionally darted around the train when a particularly large influx of people boarded, you seemed to have calm down. He felt a strange stroke along his ego about being able to control your emotions just by being near you.
“Our stop’s next,” he grunted as he looked up at the panel displaying the stations.
You glanced up and followed his gaze. He felt your body tense beside him and there was a part of him that wanted to soothe you, just to prove he could. To prove that he was stronger than your anxiety, but he didn’t, and since he, or the thought of him, lurking among the crowd was the reason for your nerves, Kei really wasn’t that upset that he didn’t control you right now. It seemed like every breath you took, every thought running through your mind, already belonged to him.
“It’ll be fine,” he sighed, annoyance woven between his words.
“Yeah,” you responded, and then whispered so quietly he was certain he wasn’t supposed to hear it, “you’re here after all.”
----
The doors slid open with a woosh of air, you stepped closer with Tsukishima at your back, his silent presence a welcome comfort. Everything about the platform that you had known everyday for the last five years, now seemed like a monster waiting to drag you into a land where only your nightmares existed. You hesitated for a second too long, only moving when the steady pressure of Tsukishima’s broad palm on your back pushed you forward.
“Don’t block the doorway,” he breathed, once again irritated.
“S-sorry,” you stuttered, stumbling out into the platform, only to be caught by the hand that was pressing insistently against you moments ago.
“Idiot,” he sneered, and you blinked up at him with large apologetic eyes.
He shook his head and encouraged you to move forward, his firm grip a stabilizing force on your bicep. The two of you quickly made you way through the packed bodies and you unconsciously moved closer to the protection of Tsukishima. He moved without question, without pointing out how ridiculous you probably seemed.
By the time, the two of you reached the hospital it felt like your heart had been pounding for hours, like you’d been full out sprinting instead of standing in a train and meandering through a crowd. Your throat was painfully dry, and your tongue felt thick, the anxiety only seeming to grow as your stepped closer and closer to your work.
Once the doors were in front of you, your feet froze, and you hovered uncertainly at the entrance. This was different than going for a visit, after passing into the hospital there would be questions and lingering pitying looks. Tsukishima would part ways with you, and you’d be thrown into the deep end with no hope of swimming out of it yourself and no one to cling to as a life preserver.
“Coming?” Tsukishima asked, tilting his head at the opened doors and waiting for you impatiently.
You sighed, “Yeah, sorry.”
He shrugged but continued to stand in the same place until you passed him. It was almost as if he was making sure you kept your end of the bargain. Did he truly care enough for that kind of thought process though?
The air brushed your face as the doors slid open and the sterile smell of the ER welcomed you. No traumas were waiting, only the occasional sound of coughing and sniffles from the few non-emergent patients in the lounge broke the eerie silence. You clutched your bag closer to your chest, as you moved forward.
Tsukishima cleared his throat behind you, “You’re blocking the doorway again.”
He glanced down at you, tilting his chin in annoyance and stepping agilely around your prone form. You blinked up at him, feeling like everything was moving slowly, like your mind was buzzing in a slurry of sticky glue. You smiled, or maybe it was a grimace, either way it was an attempt to put him at ease and you felt from the way he scoffed and turned to walk down the hall to the lounge, that it failed.
Everything was too quiet, like tension was slowly building and tightening until it would snap like a distressed string. Until everything would become too loud, too bright, too dangerous again. Like now that you had stepped back into the world it was just waiting to feast upon the paranoia you offered it and then prove every fear you had, right, by dropping more corpses in front of you.
Yet, you couldn’t let yourself stand here and stew in the exhaustion and insanity eating at you. So instead, you followed Tsukishima, bag still clutched closely to your person and fingers digging into the fabric as if it could anchor you to safety.
All you could do was get through the day.
----
It had been a handful of days, maybe four, maybe five, your calendar was starting to blur together, and you were now questioning what your own eyes told you. If you weren’t careful, you’d find yourself standing in one place staring at your phone for minutes on end, trying to make sense of the useless little pixels that ran your life. The device constantly telling you where to go and what to do, and though honestly a part of you felt resentment that it didn’t understand your confusion and pain, you also were incredibly grateful to it, because without it telling you what to do you were certain by now you’d have found a corner to die in.
It may seem morbid to think so little of your own life, but honestly you were just so tired. Being in a constant state of anxiety and suspicion was not helping you with sleep, and the lack of sleep was not helping you control the moods that had decided to run rampant in your mind.
There was one bright spot in your day. Tsukishima had now taken to eating lunch with you. You weren’t sure if it was out of pity or because he too was seeking out some sort of companionship. Though… it was likely the first one. You weren’t really certain if he was someone who could even feel pity, nor someone who craved companions, there was always the possibility he received something else from your arrangement.
You sat across from him, picking listlessly at your sad looking salad. Glaring at the blue cheese that had snuck in between the lettuce, wrinkling your nose in disgust as you removed it and the surrounding leaves.
“You’re awfully quiet today,” Tsukishima observed, his eyes not leaving the book in front of him as he took another bite of his strawberry shortcake.
“Just tired,” you responded.
You sounded it, voice thick and slow, and with each blink of your eyes it was that much harder to keep them open.
He hummed, “Did you hear about the new one?”
You frowned into your coffee. What cup were you on today? The seventh? God, how could you still think about sleep?
“Yeah,” you whispered, the word felt like it was dragged from you.
A flash of fear jolted through you, strong enough to cause your fingers to tighten around your mug and your eyes to dart to the door nervously. The memories of your nightmares, of the women who were lost to the world of the living, of the woman you saw, all slipped behind your fluttering eyelids in quick succession. Until you weren’t just gripping your mug, now you were breathing a bit harder, biting your lip hard enough that flesh tore and the tang of iron flooded your tongue. You couldn’t breathe, gasping drily instead. Feeling no air fill your lungs, or perhaps it was, and your body just finally stopped working, finally turned against you.
Your nails clawed desperately at the table until two hands weaved around yours, and you glanced up, everything coming back into focus. Tsukishima looked at you with a disapproving frown, a mix between too hot and too cold, something that told you nothing about what he was thinking.
It was within his eyes and the anchor of his fingers between yours, that you found your breath again. Tsukishima blinked, he didn’t move, was as steady and strong as always while he waited for the fear to loosen its hold.
----
Some tiny speck of societal understanding in Kei knew he shouldn’t have mentioned the new victim, that whispering of his doll’s existence would send you over the edge again. It always did after all. But he couldn’t help it, the fact he could just say a smattering of words and flip you from exhausted to panicked and then bring you back again with only his touch, made the wait to transform you worthwhile. It was so addicting watching you grasp at him like a chain that kept you tethered to the world instead of slipping off into the stratosphere. And he really couldn’t stop chasing the rush.
He tilted his head and carefully crafted his smile to come across as gentle, instead of the hungry grin that was desperate to break through. It was fascinating watching you fall apart while he pushed and prodded from the shadows. He had never done this so covertly to one planned for his collection before. Usually, the torture all started when he had them physically but… perhaps he should change his methods for the truly special ones.
When your breathing seemed more under control and hands shook less in his fingers, you gave him a watery smile in return. Kei was sure you meant it to seem reassuring, the fragility and way your lower lip wobbled, made it obvious you needed the reassurance.
“What number is that this week?” he asked, calculatingly circling the pad of his thumb over the back of your hand.
You snorted thickly, “Who knows.”
He hummed in agreement. He was careful to only push you over the edge once every few days, but you were plenty adept at doing it yourself now. He checked his phone and narrowed his eyes, withdrawing his hand slowly from yours.
“I have to head back,” he commented calmly as he pushed up from his seat.
You glanced up, gaze almost frantic when it met his, “See you after work right?”
He couldn’t stop the way his grin sharpened just a smidge at the desperate hope in your tone, the fearful glint in your eyes even as he responded, “Of course.”
Kei threw a half-hearted wave over his shoulder as he left the room, his smirk only growing as the door swung shut behind him.
----
The walk to the station was busy, but uneventful, as usual. By now you shouldn’t be breathing sighs of relief whenever your feet touched down on the train floor. But still the tingling fear only seemed to grow, until it never ebbed, until it only numbed you to its existence because it was a constant. Eventually the numbness washed away into a tsunami of fear because dissociation could only protect you from the pressure of your chronic anxiety for so long.
However, your waning vigilance and persistent insomnia had finally eaten away enough of your reserves that you found yourself fighting against sleep as you slumped down in the hard plastic of the chair. Tsukishima’s body heat a welcome reminder that you were safe under his watchful gaze, and perhaps sleeping would be ok. All it took was one second of consideration and the darkness of dreamscape enveloped you. Dragging you down where faceless nightmares and ghoulish imagery haunted the subconscious.
----
Kei didn’t look over at you until he felt the heavy thump of your head fall against his bicep. He rose a brow and glanced to his side where you quietly breathed besides him, face frowning and fingers twitching. Even in the Sandman’s grip you were tortured by thoughts of him. By thoughts of what he could and would do to you.
He smiled, the timing was perfect, your guard had been significantly lowered and by some luck which he had drawn and that which you’d lost, he had won your trust. Maybe now would be the time… in the next three days he would finally have his keepsake.
Took a break from writing today other than some few hundred words in my fanfics. As you can see im slowly updating my new tumblr. Thanks everyone for the patience with this move.
A/N: Please read CW before continuing, this is my darkest work and not for those easily offended. This is part of my contribution to @cyancherub ‘s Wheel of Misfortune collab.
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
Summary: You are a mere secretary in the city’s busiest hospital, however with your current lack of luck you have caught the eye of a serial killer who likes to turn his victims into living dolls. It’s all you can do to survive when you can’t even speak unless he lets you.
---
Part Two: If You Can Feel Real Fears, Then I’m Gonna Leave You Shivering
It had been just two days since you’d been sent home early from work, your manager called you to give you the rest of the week off. Though, you weren’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse. Sleep seemed even further away; naps were frequent but rarely lingered longer than a few minutes. Instead, your insomnia and nightmares only grew worse, and you swore you were hallucinating now, or were at least extremely paranoid.
The feeling of eyes constantly on you, someone watching you even in your own home, caused your skin to crawl. It was completely irrational, but rationality had likely left you the first few seconds after seeing the murder victim. Apparently, she had been identified, not that you knew her name. The police were currently playing their cards very close to their chests.
The city was in an uproar, even though no other bodies had yet appeared. It had been a little over a week now, so what was it that the killer was doing? It was obvious this man wouldn’t stop at one, the way he staged the body was too distinct, he’d thought about it too much, or had done it before. Though if he’d done it before, no one had seen it around the city.
The image of her face, of her legs, of her sunken torso and the randomized cuts along her ribs and chest flashed into your mind unwarranted and you gasped, bolting up into a sitting position on the couch. Shaken from the state of semi-consciousness you had fallen into moments before. You shivered, drawing the blanket on your body around you tighter, as you tried in vain to ward off the chill that was coming from inside you.
The back of your neck prickled as you turned on the tv to help drown out the noise of your thoughts. Unfortunately, the news popped on and of course the murder was the first thing to flash across the screen. Mentions of missing persons, of safety measures, and a new curfew though it was relatively loose. One of the women disappeared recently and her hair and eyes made you frown. They were the exact same shade as yours, and there was that paranoia again. Would you be next? Was that his type?
You shook your head, but the woman who you had found looked nothing like you. So, it must just be a coincidence. You nodded, eying the tv nervously before you changed the channel to something safer.
Maybe you would do well with getting a walk? Maybe going out and getting a coffee? You didn’t leave the couch as you stared at the wood grain of your door. It seemed to get farther and farther away as you became aware that once you stepped out the threshold how much more danger, you’d be in.
Your fingers buzzed with awareness. Your gut roiled with nausea. You swallowed back saliva and a lump that formed in your throat as tears threatened to spill over. But you couldn’t just hide inside, because even in your house you didn’t feel safe. This was all in your head, the creeping tingles and whispers of menace, they weren’t real. The shadows in your apartment were no more perilous than they had been two weeks ago.
Still, you sat frozen, watching the dark whorls on the door shift like an ocean of brown hues. It called to you, begged you to open it, even as your mind screamed to stay inside, spoke of threats that lay just beyond those waves of lacquered oak. You waited, breathed, focused on slowing the heaving of your chest when your gasps fought to run away with you. Once certain you had a grasp on your momentary insanity, you stood and numbly wandered over to the entryway to slip on your shoes.
Nothing waited out there, nothing waited in here. You were safe, except maybe from yourself. Getting some coffee and a pastry was just what you needed.
----
It was Kei’s day off, the gloom of clouds thickened in the morning sky and droplets of mist clung to his eyelashes, he didn’t move until he saw your apartment complex door open. This time it was you who stepped out onto the sidewalk instead of one of your neighbors. He had been right about you heading to the front door, he’d been hopeful you would leave. The camera pen he’d left in your coat pocket had become far more useful than he expected.
Imagery played behind his eyelids as he closed them for a few seconds. Letting your legs wander his vision as you walked in and out of sight, in a long shirt just barely covering your ass and nothing else but a pair of panties. He pressed the heel of his hand against his swelling cock, hissing as he willed himself calm.
Once you were close to being swallowed by the crowd, he slipped one ear bud in and shrugged the hood of his jacket back into place over his head. Tsukishima had a presence, something that made people look at him and recognize who he was, not that his height helped at all either. One of the best things was, he knew how to hide in plain sight.
He lazily played a game on his phone, something that took almost none of his attention but was a good excuse if someone talked to him, and he occasionally looked up to watch the gentle sway of your spine while you walked ahead of him. You had such a perfect back, a perfect set of legs, a gorgeous neck, and beautiful facial structure. You would be what every single one of the others couldn’t hope to reach. You were the epitome.
He clenched his jaw, swallowing the spit pooling in his mouth. Honestly, he was getting ahead of himself. Kei sneered at his own desires, he needed to focus on following you. You were swerving in and out of the crowd with purpose, and he could easily keep the amount of distance he needed if he walked just a smidge slower than usual. He watched you hesitate for a moment, before stepping into the door of a coffee shop. He scoffed and took his time getting to the front door before slipping in the other ear bud and following.
----
The air smelled of roasted coffee, some harsh notes from a set of beans that had obviously been burnt, and the heady scent of baked bread and cinnamon. You inhaled deeply, letting the familiarity of your favorite café welcome you, warm your frazzled soul. As your thoughts settled from a panicked whir to a steady hum, you focused on picking out a breakfast item.
“Yeah, can I get a strawberry parfait and a coffee with milk and two sugars.”
You glanced over at the familiar voice, and saw a hood being pushed down and an ear bud dangling from his ear. Tsukishima Kei was ordering at your most frequented breakfast spot! Had you ever seen him here before? He was relatively new to the city if you remembered correctly. Only having come to work for your hospital in the last month.
He glanced out of the corner of his eye at you and rose an eyebrow, “You’re staring.”
Though you knew it was perfectly normal to look and consider these thoughts, be a little shell shocked, at seeing your coworker since you never saw anyone you worked with outside the hospital, yet you still flinched in embarrassment at his words. In the process you missed the flash of his mean smirk before it fell from him face and the cool façade was back. He turned and he went to find a seat in the crowded tables of the café.
When you ordered you items, you turned to find a spot, only to find all the seats taken, tables holding one or more people. You hesitated, chewing on your lower lip until you walked up Tsukishima. This was awkward, this man was the definition of an asshole. He would not welcome you sitting with him, you would be better off hoping a stranger would take mercy on you while you waited. And yet… something pulled you to the dark aura that radiated from the coroner, just like it always had.
You stood in front of him until his jaw twitched and he glanced up to ask, “What?”
“Um… everywhere else is taken, can I sit and wait here?” you bit harder at your lip but that was all that showed your anxiety, your eyes unwavering and body stiff.
He sighed, pulled his other ear bud out, and jutted his chin toward the other chair, “Help yourself.”
He picked his phone up, scrolling on it and the silence that wrapped around your table seemed to create a bubble of impenetrable safety that blocked out everyone else. You sighed, calm in knowing you were surrounded and secure in the crowd for the moment, but your introverted tendencies feeling protected in the overwhelming presence that was Tsukishima. You pulled out a book from your bag, finding your place quickly and losing yourself in a tale spun with words and mental pictures.
It wasn’t until you felt the insistent pressure of a hot paper cup against your arm and heard the crinkle of a bag being set that you looked up, blinking in surprise. Tsukishima was looking down at you with a tilt to his chin and squint to his eyes. He shifted his jaw as he pushed the cup of coffee at you again.
“You didn’t even hear them,” he muttered, moving to sit across from you and take a bite of his parfait. “Whatever you are reading must be good.”
You sipped at the caffeine now waiting for it to envelope you in its warmth and broke off a piece of the croissant sitting in the bag, licking the chocolate from your fingers. Tsukishima’s eyes narrowed, as he drank from his own coffee. You nodded in agreement to his statement.
“I suppose it is, it’s very immersive, makes… escaping reality easy,” you murmured, brushing your moist fingertips along the protective sleeve of your drink.
Tsukishima leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out until they threatened to invade your space, “I like books like those.”
There was this silence that stretched out after each time he talked, it wasn’t uncomfortable just present and just like Tsukishima himself, oppressive. It made you aware in every pore of your being that he was there, that you had been speaking to him, that he controlled where the conversation went no matter where you tried to steer it.
He took final bite of his parfait, another sip of his coffee, “How are you doing? I haven’t seen you around work.”
The question caught you off guard, and you eyed him critically, as if he might spill his secrets if you stared hard enough. As if his skull might open and his brain show the carefully ticking gears cradled in the bone. You blinked at him, and he waited, ever patient.
“I’m ok,” you whispered hoarsely.
He scoffed, “Yeah, sure you are.”
Then, like you’d started to bore him now that you’d lie, he drank the rest of his coffee in one long gulp and stood. He walked towards the door, only to pause by your side and tilt his head, looking at you out of the corner of his honey brown eyes.
“Be careful, don’t stay out too late,” he said softly, before continuing on his path out the door.
You shuddered at the innuendo in his voice, the reminder that nothing was safe and least of all the shadows of the encroaching night. You gripped your cup tighter, ate your croissant a little faster, and your eyes shifted around the room checking for anyone paying too much attention to you. Maybe you shouldn’t have come out today. Maybe you should have listened to the fear in your head. You blinked back tears and once your croissant was done you managed to talk yourself into moving, holding your cooling coffee as you fled back home.
----
Tsukishima inhaled, he could practically smell the bitter stench of your fear and to him, it was sweet. It was a promise to the future, to the allure of your face beneath him while he watched your tears smear the mascara he would apply with a deft hand. You would look so perfect sobbing for him as he whispered lies into your ear. He finally smiled, all sharp teeth and twisted lips as he watched you hurry home.
“Run, little doll, run while you can,” he hissed as he turned on his heel to take a different route.
-
Just like Kei had invaded your waking thoughts and nightmares, you invaded both his days and his dreams. In his dreams, his hand brushed across the softness of your skin, you knelt before him out of your own desire, and you never tried to run. You looked up at him with a painted lips and rouge covered cheeks, with a serene smile that never left and eagerly did everything he told you.
You were flawless.
Everything he needed and wanted in the way he fucked your mouth; in the way the plushness of your lips surrounded his cock and the wet of your tongue drew lazy patterns against the underside. He used you, and you loved it, you encouraged it. You gave and he took, you took and he gave, it was a never ending circle of fulfillment, of passion, of lust, of obsession, and gods he wished he’d never wake up if it meant he could wallow in these burning images for the rest of his miserable life.
You gave him something he finally wanted since the boards. Since his failure. And he refused to give you up, even if that meant making sure you took your last breath with him buried inside you.
----
You got the call from the police the next day. Another body, some changes in MO but she was missing her legs, her chest cut to ribbons (far worse than the last one had been), and her face made up to look like porcelain doll. The phone you held dropped from your hand and your stomach fell so quickly the desire to vomit overtook you. Flashes of the original body you’d found assaulted your mind and you rushed to the sink to bring up your breakfast.
Walking back, you scooped up your now cracked phone, and then quickly walked to the door. There was only one thing you could think of and that was seeing a certain tall blonde. You needed something to ground you and he seemed like the only one who could lately.
A/N: Please read CW before continuing, this is my darkest work and not for those easily offended. This is part of my contribution to @cyancherub ‘s Wheel of Misfortune collab.
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
Summary: You are a mere secretary in the city’s busiest hospital, however with your current lack of luck you have caught the eye of a serial killer who likes to turn his victims into living dolls. It’s all you can do to survive when you can’t even speak unless he lets you.
---
Part One: Cry Real Tears, Cry Them All For Me
The steady ticking of the clock was the only sound in the quiet office. It was moments when it was quiet like this, that your skin prickled uncomfortably, that you knew a rush was about to hit. The sheets of pouring rain outside were no comfort to your nerves. A darkness had descended in the form of thick black clouds and also in the shadows that crept into your mind.
Your body tensed, starting to click the top of your pen in time with the seconds being counted. It was almost rush hour. You glanced over at the other secretary beside you and saw the same frozen and expectant face. Was it bad of you to anticipate the injuries, the deaths, and the carnage? It was a given though.
Thirty minutes after five pm and the first wave hit, a three-car pile-up, with more patients in coming. People were screaming, moaning, begging for help all around you. Blood flecked every white sheet and uniform. Once clean scrubs were doused in vomit, urine, and god knows what other bodily fluids. It smelled like metal, like burnt flesh, like impending demise, and still more patients poured in, the voices only growing as doctors and nurses yelled out instructions.
You catalogued fast, fingers flying across the keys, handing out assignments, answering calls, and watching orders slide into your careful filing system. Your eyes scanned the steadily growing lines of text, the carefully printed papers, and the manilla and mint green folders; everything was going as planned. Mass casualties were expected, car accidents were common in weather like this. Yet once the flow started, you were a machine, unshakeable in your calm mask and you steadily set about your tasks. The secretaries were the lone island of order in this storm of chaos. It brought you peace being able to offer this little amount of help.
A nurse called to you, and this was the first occurrence that was out of ordinary. It should have thrown up red flags and warned your obsessive brain that something was about to change your plans in such a way that you may never recover. However, you were naïve, you were stupidly simple minded considering the world you saw every day.
“We need a stocked supply cart over here,” they shouted, trying to make themselves understood over the jumbled mess of agonized moans and doctors screaming commands.
You nodded, “Right.”
You hurried off, not thinking for a second something might go wrong. Not worrying about anything else but finding that supply cart, just wanting to help, wanting to save lives, if you could.
It’s why when you found the body you stalled. You were prepared for mass casualties, your brain pre-prepped to take care of car accidents and surrounding trauma. What you, didn’t think you’d see was this? The woman was long dead, rigor seeming have already set in. Her face too frozen for it to have not. A face which was painted so prettily, like maybe she was going out with friends… if not for the clean cuts, carefully stitched back together, the eyes frozen wide open, and the legs… where were they?
You thought the world fell away at that point as you looked at this woman. This woman who had somehow fallen through the cracks during the chaos and landed in the corner just behind that damned supply cart you’d been looking for so frantically. This woman who was so obviously very dead and not by the fault of a car crash. This woman who looked like terror personified, even though her mouth was in a serene smile, lips carefully colored with peach lipstick. Her eyes were sunken, her cheeks hollow, and under the white décolletage of her short lace-trimmed dress you could see her ribs where it should be fat with breast tissue.
You couldn’t breathe, the desire to vomit, the need to wake up from this exact moment and have hallucinated this entire thing; gripped you aggressively. You whimpered, stumbled back through the crowd leaving your precious files on the corner of the supply cart. No longer thinking about the wounded waiting for help. Instead, all you could see was her stiff face and lifeless eyes that seemed to beg for someone to help her out of the misery that had been her end.
Your fellow secretary caught your eye and frowned, “Where’s the paperwork?”
“C-call the police,” you sputtered, voice so pathetically small.
“What?” she asked, obviously unable to hear over the cacophony of the wounded.
“Call the fucking police here now!!!” you screamed; your entire body was shaking but you willed yourself not to cry yet.
That’s when your small city learned you had a killer in your midst, someone depraved, someone angry, and someone who had medical training. It flipped your entire world on its head. Everything you thought about safety, about healing, about helping others, was wrong. And you didn’t know who to trust anymore.
----
Tsukishima hummed calmly, his eyes narrowed in concertation as he took stock of the wounds and cause of death, carefully writing his report. The body sat before him, washed clean of the thick pasty make-up, stitches removed, and injuries probed. He’d weighed organs and given his review both orally in his meticulous recordings and in his detailed notes.
The steady tap of heels alerted him to someone walking down the hall. He carefully underlined something before he glanced up to meet your anxious figure. He cocked his brow when you walked in.
“Oh,” you paused, face visibly paling. “I-I brought y-you, the paperwork… from the p-police.”
He tilted his head curiously, watching as you carefully avoided looking at the corpse laid out in front of him. Your face had turned from white to a shade of green. Your brows drew into a frown, lips curved down and chin trembled. Didn’t you look like a vulnerable little doll. Like one little tap and you might shatter like glass.
“Are you going to faint, or something?” his lips parted in mean scoff.
Your eyes snapped to him, and your frown deepened, taken aback.
“Well?” He held out his hand, chin tilting a bit higher, and he looked down his nose at you. “Going to give that to me?”
You glanced down at the body, whose amputated limbs only looked more necrotic now that the skin had been reopened and exposed to the bright light of the medical examiner’s room. The harsh glare of the metal tables likely not helping. Black skin encroached upon pale pink muscle and carefully peeled tendons. There was no smell though, and you numbly wondered if that was just because of the overwhelming scent of formaldehyde.
“Yeah… yeah sure,” you mumbled, swallowing back the bile that threatened to push passed your stomach.
You gave the body as wide of birth as possible, severely disappointed in yourself that you would let something like this upset you so much. Tsukishima’s lips twitched as he watched you, such an innocent, little thing. His golden eyes slid slowly over your face, the length of your torso, and the width of your hips, before they trailed up again and he took the papers. Your wide stare was focused on his ‘patient’ and so you didn’t even notice his slip.
“That’ll be all,” he muttered dismissively, turning back to the papers in his hands and scribbling something down.
You blinked at him slowly, dumbly, before pursing your lips, “Just because you deal with the dead all day, doesn’t mean you can be an ass to the living.”
You bared your teeth in a snarl at him, which probably looked far stupider than you wanted it to, and you spun on your heel to stalk from the room. Kei’s lips twitched into an appreciative smirk as he watched your back. Perhaps you were innocent, but good lord, you were interesting.
He lifted his phone, zoomed out, and managed to snap a quick picture of your retreating form. It wasn’t the best, blurred around the edges from movement and honestly, he would like several close ups of your face and legs, so he’d need more to be certain. But you looked promising. His tooth caught his lip to discourage his grin from growing, as his thumb gently traced the outline of your spine on the image.
---
Sleep was a distant memory for you. It had been a week, maybe more, days were melding together as you felt yourself slowly lose your grip on reality more and more. You had never done well with sleep deprivation, even a few hours off and you felt the tingle of exhaustion in your fingertips. Your thoughts were fuzzed, and sluggish, simple tasks seemed like the hardest thing in the world. But hard tasks were impossible. Breathing alone seemed to be something you needed to consciously force your body to do.
How long were you sleeping at night? Were the meager hours you got, even considered sleep since they were plagued with painted, lifeless faces and mangled, bloodied stumps that were barely recognizable as thighs. Let along something that had once been a whole leg? You stared at the ticking clock. The steady count of the second hand to rush hour, once again your pen joining the repetitive sound as if you couldn’t control it.
This felt so familiar. Hadn’t you done this recently, where you silently counted down the minutes, where the waiting room had been disturbingly calm for a few hours, and where the rain fell in steady curtains. You couldn’t place it, but a foreboding anxiety churned into your muddled brain, something your tried to pick apart in the sticky fog of your lethargic thoughts. But it was so hard to remember anything past the need to sleep, past the drag of your heavy eyelids as the ticking lulled you toward the darkness.
It was so strange, this awareness of not feeling, this awareness of missing something. Darkness surrounded you, somehow cloudy even though you couldn’t see anything, were your eyes open? The sensation of something thick on your face encouraged you to touch your face, to drag your fingers through sticky gloss on your lips and powdery blush on cheeks. You frowned, eyes frozen wide, but brow pinching in disapproval.
You tilted your head down to look at where the sense of numbness came from, to where sensation left you. Your fingers continued to drift down your chest, checking for more of the make-up, only feeling the lace of cloth.
As your eyes drifted down, as you pushed yourself up on your elbows, you choked back a scream or maybe it was a sob. What happened? Why… why were you split in half!? You could see where you were still connected, a tiny segment of spine and tissue holding your torso and lower body together, and this time you did sob, because your innards were everywhere. But-but you couldn’t feel it.... You couldn’t feel the pain.
You weren’t sure if that was worse or not. Were you in shock? Why could you still move? H-how… were you still alive? God… someone help! Someone kill me, someone fix me, just anything! Your mind scrambled to hopefully find a way to fix this.
You lifted a trembling hand, scooping at the mess that was your intestines, seeing maggots and beetles writhe through the rotting flesh. A face smiled from the darkness surrounding you, watching as you scooped and scooped but more just seemed to fall out of you. You couldn't stop it! You couldn't stuff it back in! Sobs were falling from you freely, just like that disgustingly purple and black mass of flesh. Tears rolling from your eyes as you looked at the partial face, looked hopelessly for help from the thing that seemed to take pleasure in your horror. The face grinned, all white teeth and glinting eyes, nothing else discernable in the blackness.
“Didn’t think I’d let you get away, did you?” it hissed, laughing lowly.
You woke with a gasp and immediately lent over the small garbage can under the desk to throw up. Bitter bile, stale coffee, and the partially digested sandwich from lunch, laid heavy on your tongue. You swallowed, trying to control your rebellious gut as it pushed you to gag again. The images and the terror from the nightmare still bubbled underneath the surface of your mind and you turned to find a maintenance worker before you were needed.
Your eyes glanced at the clock, and you froze, that’s right… today is exactly like the day you found her. You heard the scream of sirens in the distance and glanced to over your shoulder at to your coworker who was watching you with an anticipatory stare. Like she expected your shake apart right in front of her. Though, you wouldn’t deny it… she may be right. You felt like your mind was cracking and just waiting for the right pressure to shatter completely.
Your shoulders jumped, and the twitch seemed to settle in with a consistent interval of every few minutes. The stress in your body now tensing your muscles beyond your control. There was this fathomless pity in the other secretary’s eyes, and you hated her for it. You hated every doctor or nurse who walked past who gave you the same look. You swore you almost preferred the way Tsukishima had looked at you that day when you dropped off the paperwork and was trying desperately not to throw up on his shoes.
You glanced up as your manager stepped closer, placing a steady hand on your shuddering shoulder. You flinched at the look in his eyes, the painful amount of worry projected, he wasn’t a man who showed such an emotion regularly.
“Go home, I’ve got someone to cover for you,” his voice was soft, soothing, and seemed to stroke your broken and frayed nerves back together. “I shouldn’t have let you come back so early anyways.”
You wanted to argue but the sound of squealing breaks and muffled shouting caused you to tense more. Your mind whirled, thoughts spilling over each other, and trampling any semblance of control you had. So, instead you hung onto what your manager told you to do. Used that as a guideline for your next action because you sure as hell weren’t making decisions any time soon.
Your teeth sank into the soft inside of your lower lip. Chewing and chewing, as you nodded and walked to the lounge, tearing into the slick, plush flesh until you tasted the tang of metal on your tongue and felt the skin break beneath your bicuspids. Your eyes pricked dangerously, threatening to spill over with tears, instead focusing on sucking and worrying the new wound in your mouth in hopes the pain and flavor would ground you.
“Can’t cry here,” you murmured.
You were moving so blindly, so fast, that you didn’t see Tsukishima on the other side of the door and almost hit him with it. Thankfully, he was quick enough to step out of the danger zone with nothing more than a scoff and an irritated scowl. Drawing himself up to glare down through his glasses at you like you were a fleck of mud on his shoes.
“Watch where you’re going,” he snarled.
His sharp words, his ridiculous height, and his confident presence instantly soothed the savage beast of fear inside you. It pushed the monster trying to claw its way out of your chest back into its cage, and you hiccupped a dry sob at his words. Relief flowed through you, warm and welcoming, wrapping you in a soothing embrace of barbed comments and harsh stares.
You didn’t want sympathy or pity. You wanted to forget what you’d seen, you wanted the world to move on, not be reminded of it every fucking turn by people staring at you with puppy eyes. It’s not like the nightmares didn’t remind you enough.
Tsukishima’s nose crinkled, “Are you gonna cry?”
He asked the question like if you did happen to start tearing up, it would be the biggest inconvenience to him in the world. Still, he didn’t make to leave the room. Instead, he stood awkwardly in the way.
“No,” you responded, frowning petulantly because you know your words sounded stuffy due to your nose.
You refused to cry even more now just to spite him. Instead, you crossed your arms, though the effect was greatly diminished when you sniffled, and glared at him.
“You gonna move?” you demanded, imitating his same dry and annoyed tone.
“Tch, brat,” he muttered but moved out of the way.
----
Oh, you were feisty, even when you were on the verge of a meltdown. Kei couldn’t help but want to put you in your place. Make it so you could never speak out against him again, maybe… he’d let you keep those legs, for once maybe he’d found a pair that was aesthetically pleasing.
He brought his phone out as you bent over to pull out the items in your locker, he zoomed and snapped a couple pictures quickly. When you shifted to stand, he did the same of your back, isolating your lower back from you upper, and then focusing two pictures on the base of your neck. You really were such a pretty toy.
You began to turn, and he calmly saved the pictures and looked down at his phone, pretending to scroll through something.
“You going home?” he asked.
“Yeah, still shaken up from the other day,” you slowly began to pack your bag as you talked but even across the room, he could see the slight tremor in your hands.
He grunted; he didn’t need you to confirm which day it had been. He knew there was only one reason you would be forced to leave early that wasn’t physical illness. He narrowed his eyes, forcing a soft understanding smile to curve his lips.
“I’ll leave you to it then,” he turned on his heel and left without so much a backward glance.
Though if he was honest with himself, he still wanted to play with you. But… tonight was not the night. That would be rushing things, and he still wasn’t sure you were the one yet.
Crimson Stained Ivory- Fushiguro Megumi x Fem reader
CW: Mature themes, Gore, Blood, Heavy Angst, Coma, Nightmares, Reader Death, Unspoken Confessions, fem reader
---
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. They trembled as he cradled your face in his hands, pressing his thumbs against the apples of your cheeks. He didn’t want this, and for once he wanted to 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
----
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.
----
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
back to slowly updating my masterlist when I get chances to. Currently done with work. Got 3500 words done today and some basic edits. Now it's just time to get back on feet
AN: This is a second part to Technicolor Smiles, though can be read separately. Happy Holidays peeps CW: NSFW, Fluff, Romance, Teasing, Orgasm denial, Edging, Creampie, First time together, love confessions, cliché christmas crap, gift exchange, mild bell kink, dress up, marking/biting, blowjob, fingering, fem reader
----
Snow was falling, nothing heavy but enough to blanket the ground in a silencing cushion of white. It was beautiful, spell binding, and you stood outside shivering in your parka completely enraptured even though you could no longer feel your nose.
The shoes on your feet were your favorite pair of combat boots, the only thing you owned when it came to footwear that was snow friendly, and though you couldn’t find a bright color for them you had changed their laces to neon rainbows. You stared down at the peek of colors with a shuddering smile and shrugged your hood tighter. Where was he?
Shinsou had asked you out at the Halloween party, and since then you two had been together, hitting close to two months now. Both of you were headed to a Christmas party that Kaminari was throwing. He, Hitoshi, Bakugou, and Kirishima had all chipped in to rent a venue. But Shinsou had hinted at another surprise, and it made your heart flutter with excitement.
You hadn’t quite gotten… physical yet and to be honest, he may have the patience to take it slow as molasses, but the boy drove every part of you crazy in the best ways. You huffed as you bit your chilled lips. Where was he? Technically it was only a few minutes after when you were supposed to meet, but you were excited, and fuck was it cold.
You heard the crunch of snow beneath shoes and glanced up to see a glimpse of soft purple hair flattened by a black beanie. Over his shoulder his hand steadied the strap of an indigo and charcoal duffel. Your cheeks ached from how fast your smile grew. Suddenly it wasn’t so cold out.
Shinsou was glancing down at his phone in his hand, and he glanced up to check his trajectory, doing a double take as he saw your shivering form.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” he asked, fond exasperation in his voice. “Aren’t you cold?”
You nodded, “I was, but it’s ok. I told you I’d be waiting for you. And besides, even though it’s absolutely freezing, it’s so pretty, Hitoshi.”
You stared out with sparkling eyes into the snowflakes drifting around the air lazily, and though the snow was beautiful, it was the sight of you captured by such a regular phenomenon that had him breathless. Ever since he’d met you, he was constantly reminded of the wonders of the world, constantly reminded to just stop, and look. You were someone who found good in everything while honestly Shinsou was the exact opposite.
You were his ray of light, his slice of heaven, his butterfly, and his kitten. A soft and joyful creature that found him worth humbling with your presence.
“C’mon, kitty, before you freeze to death,” he linked his gloved fingers with yours to tug you back to the building.
You frowned, glancing back at the swirling expanse of white and people trying to keep their footing at they walked. The wonderful, muffled world that called to you, but the warmth seeping through Shinsou’s and your gloves caused you to look up. His eyes sought yours and he smiled, that was all it took for you to grin back and nod, allowing yourself to be tugged back into the rush of warmth in the lobby.
He pulled you through to the elevator, you giggling behind him, and his face still held a small smile. Once inside, he pressed the button to your floor, and then he backed you up against the shimmering wall. This was his greeting every time. It always happened in the elevator in of your buildings because it was never for public eyes.
It was never a shy peck, it was him grasping the back of your skull, your fingers curling in his sleeves at the biceps, with him pulling the neediest sounds from you. His tongue slipped in just enough to tease you in a way that had your blood heating and thighs squeezing. It wasn’t fair, he couldn’t do this to you and not give you anything else. Except he could, because Shinsou had the composure of a saint, so it seemed.
He breathed into you, left you lightheaded, because your world was reduced to just Hitoshi. Everything that wasn’t his scent, his skin, or his taste; it no longer mattered. He played you like a piano, every touch had you arching for him, squirming, and he devoured it like a man starved.
“God, kitten, I’ve not seen you enough lately,” he whispered as he pulled away to rest his forehead against yours.
He trailed soft kisses up your nose and muffled a laugh as you wiggled in his grasp. You looked up at him, your pupils wide and eyes fogged with lust, and he had to hold himself back. Because damn, did he want you, but he wanted to do it right. You deserved that; you deserved the world.
He couldn’t believe he found you at the party. That he’d gotten so lucky. He actually took Kaminari out to dinner after your first date as a thank you for inadvertently introducing the two of you. It amazed him that you were in his life every day.
Even as he lost himself to his thoughts his hands never stopped wandering, his nose now buried into your shoulder as he inhaled your scent. How could perfection have a corporeal form? He nipped at the meat of your shoulder and you hissed, whining in that perfect pitch.
“’Tosh, please, don’t tease,” you whimpered.
God, he was going to lose it. He pulled back and breathed silently, carefully clearing his lungs of you. Fuck this trip couldn’t come soon enough. He’d been holding back so long.
Shinsou’s features easily reverted to his confident smile and he pressed a light kiss to your forehead, “Sorry, kitty.”
He picked up his duffle once again, slinging it back over his shoulder, just as the doors opened with a ding. Casting an expectant glance over his shoulder, he winked and stepped out through the doors, giving you precious few seconds to cool your burning face.
As soon as you stepped outside the safety of the elevator, you saw him leaning against the wall next to your door. His shoulders pressed against the peeling wallpaper and ankles linked, looking entirely too delicious. When he saw you moving down the hallway he smiled easily again, and even though you could feel the nervous butterflies start in your chest you couldn’t help but match his grin.
“So, what’s this whole get away? You said to pack for more than just the night we would be away for the party,” you looked over at him as you opened the door.
“And did you?”
You pouted playfully, “Yes, but seriously, Hitoshi. Tell me what’s going on?!”
“Oooh, so demanding, kitty cat,” he laughed as you stalked up to him. “Sorry, but it would ruin the surprise.”
You puffed out your cheeks, “No fair.”
“Ha, life never is,” he smirked and ruffled your hair. “C’mon let’s grab your bag and get started to the station.”
You pursed your lips and huffed, but dutifully went to grab your suitcase. Immediately Hitoshi snorted upon seeing you come out with it.
“What… is that?” he asked.
You frowned defensively, “What!? I bought a new suitcase, but the best quality was of course only in black. And I wasn’t about to have some boring black bag.”
Your travel bag now sported several technicolor patches and buttons, complete with sassy sayings and supporting proheros. He just shook his head and look at you’re with a fond glint in his eyes.
“What would the world do if you had a boring black suitcase?” he sassed.
“Probably explode,” you scoffed.
You locked the front door as the two of you headed back to the elevator. For a moment you stared at the open doors, even as Hitoshi moved into the carriage. His lips curled as he saw through your nerves in an instant.
“C’mon, kitty cat, I don’t bite,” he murmured as he offered a hand.
“Liar,” you said softly, placing your hand in his and letting him pull you into his chest.
“Maybe a bit,” he whispered against your ear, pressing the button to the ground floor.
As soon as the doors shut, his teeth snagged your jawline, leaving sharp points of pain. You were quick to fall apart in his arms, your mouth dropping open in needy moans. You bit into your lower lip when his mouth latched onto the soft spot under your earlobe. Whining and writhing, you let yourself be manipulated as he worked you over, sucking a bruise deep into the flesh.
“Gotta lay my claim now,” he chuckled, finally releasing the abused piece of skin. “Can’t let anyone steal you away from me. You’ll have every eye in the house on you, kitten.”
Suddenly, you were melting for a completely different reason as he looked at you like you were the most precious gem in the world. He hummed as he brushed some of your hair out of your face and nudged your nose with his.
“I’m so lucky,” he breathed.
And you could tell you weren’t supposed to hear that, even though the two of you were so close it’d be impossible to miss it. You pretended nothing happened as you both got ready to move out the doors when they opened. Your stomach squirmed with a strange warmth and you felt almost like you’d throw up in a good way. Was there a good way to throw up?
Walking the short trip to the station to get on the train was a mixed feeling of starry-eyed euphoria and frustration at all the slipping and sliding. Shinsou really didn’t help either emotion. He looked entirely too good with wind bitten cheeks and snowflakes caught on his lashes, but then every time you’d cuss when almost falling flat on your face, he’d let out the biggest laugh.
You could only shoot a glare at him, because honestly, you’d do anything to make Hitoshi laugh. It was such a sincere sound, rough from disuse. You loved him and you had yet to tell him. That was another step in your relationship either of you had yet to take.
You had eventually slowed to walk next to him, somehow your shorter legs always carried you faster than his long, lazy strides. Maybe it was because you were always in a hurry, while Shinsou always seemed lost in the clouds. Your fingers intertwined with his as you entered the station.
“You were talking about dressing up for the party, what did you mean by that?” he asked, eying your bag for a moment.
“What does dressing up ever mean, ‘Tosh?” you answered with a giggle.
“C’mon don’t be like that, tell me are wearing a costume or something skin-tight and slinky?” he cocked his brow.
“You’ll just have to wait and see, handsome,” you grinned up at him as you pulled him towards the open doors of your ride.
The ride to the venue was uneventful. It consisted of sharing music and the same pair of earbuds, Hitoshi passing out on your shoulder, and you getting stuck in a good book. Every now and then, he’d shift in his sleep, a heavier breath leaving him, and you’d smile softly as you glanced over at his sleeping form.
His face was so much softer when captured by his dreams. Hitoshi often looked worried and downtrodden when awake, yet when asleep he seemed to be at his happiest. That or when he was with cats. A secretive smile crept across your face as you patted the purse leaning against your chair. You hoped he’d like your present.
By the time, the two of you arrived at the station it was sunset, and the snow had stopped falling. Instead, just a thick blanket lay on the ground. Stepping out onto the platform, the two of you walked outside the station doors and were greeted by your transport to the location.
A beautiful Belgian Draft horse hooked up to a mahogany sleigh sat waiting for the two of you. The sheen of the sleigh caught the last rays of the sun, staining its dark wood with blushes of orange and pink. Against the white back drop of the snow underneath and with the stark black suit of driver, it was a picture from a postcard. The man tipped his hat and smiled, opening the small guard doors for you to climb in.
You couldn’t stop your squeal of excitement and the smile that split your face when you looked at Hitoshi. He didn’t look surprised, though sometimes you wondered if surprise was in his vocabulary.
“C’mon, kitty, about time we climb in, isn’t it?” he said with a soft half-smile of his own.
“Can’t I say hi to the horse?” you asked.
“How about we do that after we arrive, don’t want to be late,” he chuckled at the pout pulling your lip.
“Fine, but I’m totally saying hi and goodbye to her,” you said.
“Of course.”
He couldn’t help it as his grin grew. Your mood was so infectious and right now you were practically glowing with happiness. There were moments he had to hold his tongue because those three little words were so desperate to get out. Though, he really, really did want to do it right.
As you focused on getting into the sleigh, Hitoshi’s hands were right there to steady you, just like they always were. He kept you safe, even though you were plenty capable yourself. But being treated like something priceless enough that he felt he needed to protect you, wasn’t something you were going to complain about.
“Thanks ‘Tosh,” you murmured, taking a seat.
“Anytime beautiful,” he whispered.
As he sat next to you and the chauffeur took his spot, Hitoshi pulled a blanket from under the seat. You frowned curiously, but shook your head, instead leaning back into the familiar circle of his arm and he placed a lingering kiss on the crown of your head.
The ride there was quiet, the two of you too captivated in the soft sounds of the runners cutting through the snow, and the scenery surrounding you. The contrast of the cold wind against your face and the gentle, comforting warmth that radiated from the man next to you, lulled you into a state of silence. Something that rarely happened, but it was a relaxed atmosphere, so Hitoshi basked in the feeling of you in his arms.
Occasionally he would draw you closer, tilt your chin with the curve of his fingers and press soft pecks against your lips. You would sigh, and hungrily chase after his mouth as he retreated, there was something in his lingering touches tonight, the gleam in his purple eyes, it was different and less restrained.
His fingers wandered, brushed across your neck, seeking contact almost every second. His eyes were ravenous, watching every move you made and rewarding the ones he liked with flickers of molten heat. He wanted, you could feel it, you wondered if his resolve was crumbling. If the great Saint Hitoshi was finally feeling the pressures of lust.
The sound of the coachman calling the horse to a stop brought you out of your thoughts, and you looked away from Shinsou to where your destination lay.
A cabin-esque inn spilled warm light from its windows, painting the white snow a honey gold. It looked inviting, and when the doors opened the sound of music, the smell of spices, and cooking meat wafted forth.
You looked back at Hitoshi for a moment before clambering from the sleigh into the waiting arms of Mina. She laughed, wrapping you in a warm hug easily. A heavy hand landed on your head, and you glanced up to see Kirishima grinning a sharp toothed smile down at you.
“Hey, we were wondering if you guys were gonna make it. The party started an hour ago,” he said, whistling lowly as his eyes saw the horse. “Though I guess you guys arrived a bit slower because of style. Shinsou sure is pulling out all the stops ain’t he?”
You frowned for a moment, “Wait do you mean, the sleigh… wasn’t part of the whole party?”
Glancing back, you saw the horse fidgeting excitedly and squeaked as you remembered you wanted to pet her. Quickly you scrambled off to do so, while Hitoshi walked up to the other two.
“So tonight really is the night then, huh man?” Kirishima asked with a laugh.
“Keep your mouth shut, I swear! She doesn’t know anything, and I want it to go perfectly,” Shinsou hissed urgently, while you hugged the massive head of the animal with a soft giggle.
“Sure, bro,” he shrugged. “You two should head up and change though.”
“If I can pry her away from her new friend,” Hitoshi said with a warm sigh.
You were currently babbling animatedly to the horse and Shinsou walked up beside you and you turned to him with a huge smile, “‘Tosh! We need to take Briar home!”
He chuckled and took both bags, nodding to the driver with a smile, “C’mon, kitten, you live in an apartment.”
“I’ll move, she’s so sweet and amazing,” you murmured completely star struck by the soft eyes that watched you leave.
“I’m sure she is, but she also already has a home,” Hitoshi said, happy to play along with your bubbly mood.
“Damn,” you sighed. “I hate when you use logic.”
He grinned, “But it always wins the argument.”
His laugh that followed was interrupted by a sharp yelp when you landed a harsh jab to his side. He coughed but wrapped his arm back around you and led you inside the inn.
Your friends swirled about the event room which was decorated to the nines. Wreaths, tinsel, and two large trees filled the room with light and the smell of pine. It also smelled heavily of warm cider and the dinner soon to come.
“Come on, don’t stop yet, let’s go change,” Hitoshi whispered in your ear as he nodded once to the room’s occupants and carted you off.
Slipping upstairs, the two of you stepped into a bedroom lit by dimmed wall sconces and a gentle fire in the hearth against the wall.
“I’ll use the bathroom,” you murmured. “I’ll meet you downstairs since I’m sure you’ll be done way before me.”
Hitoshi snickered but nodded in agreement. You pulled your bag in with you, swatting away his curious gaze.
You pulled out your dress, a white bell shape dress with long sleeves and embroidered with sparkling green leaves. You slipped into it, the stocking, and the shoes; and you waited for a moment before rummaging around more. Hesitant to make too much sound.
“I’m headed down, see you in a bit.”
You grunted an affirmation through the door and waited for the click on the other side. When the coast was clear, you searched in your bag a bit more, and the jingling of bells sounded out.
“Ah there it is,” you smiled, pulling out a set of small costume antlers, and then next a brown leather harness fitted with four large bells and four small ones.
Slipped the harness over your shoulders and buckling both the chest and waist strap you giggled you took your first step and the bells jangled merrily.
“Yes!” you resisted the urge to spin, and instead focused on some makeup for a bold statement.
You tilted your head in the mirror, the light catching the sparkles in your eyeshadow, you felt an apprehensive flutter in your chest even as you smiled at your reflection. Then with a nod you made your way down to the party.
With each step you took the bells rang out merrily, it made any stealth you may have possessed before a joke. Shinsou turned and for a moment there was a war on his face, a glimmer of heat when his eyes raked you form, and it settled on the leather cinched across your body. Yet as he heard the bells jingle and he saw the antlers perched on your head, he grinned widely.
“’Tosh,” you sang brightly. “How do I look?”
You laughed as you spun on the spot.
“Perfect. But…which one are you?” he asked, tilting his head.
“Prancer,” you answered with a couple of high steps to the side.
He shook his head, “Heh, of course. Well, may I have this dance, Prancer?”
His hand swooped out, and with the partially buttoned, black dress shirt on his body and the charcoal slacks, the movement seemed that much more elegant. It was only too easy to match his seriousness and slide your hand in his.
“Of course,” you curtseyed and the two of you made your way out to the dance floor.
His movements were easy, relaxed, as his hands found their home cradling one of yours in his and then his other rested lightly on your waist. He led you around the floor like you were a feather, his hold made you feel brittle but safe. It was funny, usually you felt like the most awkward and clumsy person on earth, but Hitoshi had always made you feel beautiful and elegant.
“You look truly do look amazing,” he said with an appreciative sweep of his eyes.
“Thank Hitoshi,” you breathed. “You look good too. Honestly should wear stuff like that more often.”
You shot him a cheeky grin and he chuckled. So much for trying to be romantic. But god you really did look good, even the with bright chiming of the bells, it was just… so you. Everything beautiful, different, and exactly what he loved about you.
As he spun you, the two of you ended near the overhang over the second-floor balcony that looked over the ‘dance floor.’ He dipped you effortlessly and you giggled, though your breath caught at the look in his eye as he watched you, the warmth emanating from him making your lungs shake with emptiness.
“Hitoshi,” you whispered, eye narrowing in on something above his head. “There’s mistletoe above you.”
“Is there?” he responded.
The smirk on his lips captivated you, and you felt the shift in the atmosphere, suddenly it was just the two of you as he set you right again. His fingers came up to brush your hair behind an ear, murmured a word you couldn’t make out, and he dipped to press his mouth against yours.
This kiss… it was nothing like any you’d ever shared in the public eye before. This kiss was heat and need. Desperate to tell you with hunger, passion, licks, and nips, things he couldn’t speak. Promising things to come, things you didn’t dare hope for or maybe things you didn’t understand. He spilled his breath into you, filling your lungs with the taste of the cider that he had partaken in, and grounding you with everything that was just him.
He was all you needed. Your soul sang, filling with helium in your chest as you kissed back with just as much fervor, telling him with each press forward, each matched movement, and each retreat and return, that you were here for it all.
When you broke apart, your chests were heaving, and he looked so hypnotized.
“God, I love you,” he rasped.
Those four words, with their heavy tone, were incapable of being ignored and within an instant his eyes widened, and he cursed, “Fuck, shit, dammit.”
Groaning he rubbed his hand across his face with irritation written in every single word and honestly you weren’t thinking about the fact that you had forgotten to say the words back. You thought it was obvious how much you adored this man. While Shinsou on the other hand realized how much he had just screwed the plan up, how much he was going to be shot down. He may have been having a mild heart attack at the thought of you running.
“’Tosh? You ok?” you asked.
His hand fell slowly down to his neck, his tell that he was anxious, “Yeah, I’m fine… you know… just fucking up as usual. Ha….”
The heaviest sigh left him, and you frowned, “How did you fuck up?”
He shot you a mild glare and rose an eyebrow, “Did you not just hear what I told you?”
“That you loved me? Well yeah of course I heard that,” you said, tilting your head in confusion.
“I don’t know how that’s fucking up though.”
“Because,” he sighed harder and his shoulders rounded as he moved to go sit on a chair nearby with you following after him. “I had a plan. On how to do it. So that… maybe you’d say it back, ya know?”
You snorted, “Ah sorry, I don’t… um, mean to laugh. It’s just… doing some big gesture doesn’t determine whether I say it back or not Hitoshi. Whether I love you or not does.”
He looked crestfallen and eyed you with a look of fragility, “And you don’t?”
“What!? Oh god, what would give you that idea?” you squawked.
He squinted, “Because… you didn’t say it back.”
You clapped a hand over your mouth, “Oh god. I got worried about you being so upset.”
Shaking your head and focusing on fixing your mistake you took Shinsou’s cheek in your palm and tilted his head more towards you, giving him a soft smile before kissing his lips, his nose, his cheeks, and his forehead in quick succession. He exhaled softly in relief, tension melting from his body.
“I love you, Shinsou Hitoshi. So damn much,” you murmured as you peppered him over and over with gentle kisses of reassurance.
He growled, grabbing your head to keep you still and making you squeak in surprise. His lips met yours with brutality, more than you had ever felt before. There was the sharp pinch of teeth on your skin, you tasted a flash of iron, he was animalistic pouring every repressed emotion into the movement of his mouth against yours. So, you matched him, biting, licking, whimpering, and completely forgetting you were surrounded by your friends.
“So, you finally tell her, Shinsou?” Kaminari called from halfway across the room.
The speed at which you disengaged was enough to make Hitoshi’s head spin. He looked down in surprise and you buried your face in his chest, your breath coming quick against his shirt.
“Seriously, Kami,” he shook his head with a mumble. “C’mon.”
He stood and tugged you behind him as he made his way up the steps a sly smirk on his face when you asked where you were headed.
“Surprises are fun, aren’t they?” he said cheekily.
You puffed your cheeks out in a pout.
“Don’t worry, kitten, I just want to have you to myself for a bit. Might as well bask in the softness before we come down to do whole Secret Santa thing,” he sighed.
He led you back to the room you had been in before, and you rose a brow.
“Ah, maybe, I should explain,” he said as he tapped his heel against the door to close it and pulled you further into the room. “I rented this room for two days. I rented that sleigh. I… I had this plan to give you, your Christmas present and tell you I love you and make you remember it for years.”
He shook his head, and you laughed saying, “’Tosh, hold on. Breathe. Trust me I’ll remember tonight. I’ll remember today. I will totally remember the next few days with you. Because you just saying that you love me, is everything I could ever want. Stop being so hard on yourself.”
His line of sight slipped to the side, landing on the dresser, and he sighed, “Alright then, let’s see if I can do as well with this next part.”
You sat on the bed, watching him curiously as he pulled open a drawer and then withdrew a long, thin, iconic back velvet box. Shinsou handed it to you, and you noticed the slight tremble in his hands in the dim light of the room. You tilted your head as you opened the box.
There, shining brightly in the flickering light of the fire, was a delicate anklet. Attached to it were tiny bells and between the bells were spaces, three already filled by tiny silver charms. A pair of cats with their noses touched and an amethyst heart sitting in the space that their chests made, a burrito, and a pumpkin; you looked at it and then looked at him, only to return your gaze to the jewelry in your hand.
“Hitoshi,” you choked out. “It’s… beautiful.”
He was on his knees in seconds, slipping you out of your shoes and stockings, and taking the anklet from you, he kissed your calf as he pulled chain from its box and rubbed his thumb along the cool silver. That same thumb then ran along the dip of your heel and you smiled at him while you leaned back on your hands to watch him fasten the thin chain to its new home.
His lips pressed gentle kisses up to your knee and you sighed, leaning your head back, until you felt him pause at the hem of your dress. You glanced down, prepared for him to stop there. You weren’t expecting to meet the heat in his eyes, though, and the unspoken question.
“Yes,” you whispered, a fierce excitement sparking to life in your gut. “Please.”
Hitoshi groaned, surging up to push you onto you back, the movement causing the bells on the harness to jingle. He nuzzled at your neck, your jaw, and your ear until he met your mouth. His tongue licked its way inside and he promised with every sweep of heat and toe-curling pleasure that this would be a night you would never forget.
“I’ve been waiting so long,” he growled against you.
You whined, squirming under him, “Why didn’t you try before?”
“Gotta do it right, kitten,” he murmured.
His teeth laid a harsh couple of nips across your jawline making you gasp, gripping his sleeves with trembling hands. Sucking a mark into your pulse point, he chuckled against the taught skin before laying a soothing lick across it. One of his hands cupped the small of you back to press you closer to his torso, making it easier to slot himself in between your thighs and grind his thickening cock against your heat.
He let out a broken breath, scraped his teeth against your collarbone and watched you twist with lazy eyes. Licking and mouthing his way over the spill of your breasts, whispering nonsensical words of affection into every new expanse he touched.
“Hmm,” he hummed as his fingers teased the edge of the upper strap of your harness. “This was oddly distracting tonight.”
“Yeah?” you asked, whining when he unbuckled it and palmed your breast.
He grinned, “Fuck yeah.”
The featherlight touch of his fingers trailing over your juddering ribcage caused you to arch and squirm, drawing a sharp exhale from him as you dragged your pelvis against his length.
“Stay still,” he grunted.
His large hand came to pin you down as he worked at the harness and even with the force of him holding you, each half-hearted surge of your body caused the bells to jingle. He was sure everyone knew what they were doing. Maybe even hoped they knew? Hitoshi wanted every person down below to hear you scream his name.
Pulling back, he smirked, seeing you this disheveled created a flicker of pride in his chest. You stood without prompting, nearly pushing him off the bed in the process and pulling a chortle from him at your eagerness. The harness fell from you with a cacophony of different tones, the antlers next, and the dress finally unzipped, dropped like it couldn’t wait to let him feast his eyes.
The lingerie you wore was just a simple white satin and lace set. Nothing special, but he looked at you as if you’d stepped down from the heavens themselves. His throat was so dry he could hear it click when he swallowed.
When you were divested of your clothes, you slipped to your knees in front of him and Shinsou’s eyes widened, his breath catching painfully. If it was possible, which he wasn’t sure it was, more blood rushed to his dick, making it twitch.
Your nose was nudging against the bulge in his slacks and he choked on a groan in his throat. His fingers twitching at his sides while he just ached to bury them in your hair. You met his eyes and you teasingly dragged your lips along his trapped cock, nimble fingers coming up to release the fastenings on his pants.
As your hand drew him out, the feeling of your skin on his, had him bucking forward and letting out a growl, “Fuck.”
You licked you lip, peeking out from under your lashes as you licked a slow stripe along the velvet heat of the underside of his cock, all the way up to the glistening, red head. He inhaled, his hands curling into fists as he fought for control for just a while longer. God, he really had waited so long.
When you sank down onto him you lost yourself in the weight on your tongue, the burst of clean salt at the back of your mouth, and the gentle bobbing motion of your head as you found a slow rhythm. Hitoshi however was gone the moment he saw you on your knees, so when he felt the warm euphoria of your mouth encase him, he spiraled to a new level of pleasure he didn’t know existed.
Was it all because of the teasing, the push and pull of the last few months? Or was it because it was you? Was it because it was always meant to be you with whom he wanted to do these things with?
He groaned, finally losing control over the tethers on his hands, and his fingers found purchase on your retreating head, only to still it so he could shove his length back into your throat. Hearing you gag on him sent shocks of excitement up his spine. His pace became brutal, and you took it so wonderfully, drooling around him to accommodate his girth like the perfect girl you were.
“S-so good for me, kitten. Fuck,” he murmured, feeling your tongue drag at just the right moment under the head of his cock.
His breath hitched every time your throat spasmed around him when he hit the start of it. You were inhaling and exhaling strategically around each pump, your fingers now digging into his thighs for something to ground you as his soft cotton briefs brushed against your nose with each thrust forward.
“Damn, can’t--,” he didn’t finish his sentence, instead pulling out and watching your watery eyes, then staring intently at the drool slicking your swollen lips.
You looked so beautiful like this; he didn’t know how he’d resisted the thought of ruining you for so long. His thumb pressed against the spit covered plushness of your lower lip as he tried to calm his breathing and draw himself away from the edge he’d almost flown over. His dick throbbed with the need to cum. He breathed shakily and nodded to the bed.
“Up, little thing, I’m definitely not cumming in your mouth tonight,” he swallowed when he met your hazy gaze.
Your eyes darted down, and you licked your lips, tongue grazing the pad of his thumb and he groaned at the sight. Pulling you up by your shoulders quickly, for fear he would start fucking your mouth until he came, he pushed you to the bed.
“Now,” he hissed.
You whined and fell back onto the bed while he stripped off his clothes with no ceremony. Once he was free of everything, he didn’t even give you a second to admire his bare skin. Instead, he caged you in, his fingers making quick work of the bra holding you captive. While he pulled it slowly from your skin, he kissed and sucked at every new centimeter exposed.
He couldn’t get enough, drunk on your soft taste, your sweet smell, he needed more. He felt greedy and yet the more he took, the more you gave, the more you opened for him. Whimpering and mewling beneath him, thighs widening on instinct to accommodate his torso as he scooped your knee over his shoulder.
Stopping just at the level where he could suck and roll a nipple between his teeth without straining his muscles, he rubbed lightly along the satin of your underwear. You keened in hunger, in embarrassment, because you had fucking soaked through the cloth and covered the tops of your inner thighs in your arousal.
“So wet for me,” he rasped into the softness of your breast.
His fingers left your throbbing clit, and you shimmied your hips to try and entice him back until you felt them dancing along the lacy edge of your panties. Dipping in, then retreating slightly to play with the hem, he hummed with a mischievous smile as you tried to hump toward the sensation.
“Did you want something?”
“Yes,” you whined.
“Oh? And what’s that?” his eyes glinted in the dim light.
“I need you, ‘Tosh, I need you so bad. Want to feel you inside me. Want you to fuck me,” you were so far passed caring about dignity, the begging only came naturally now.
His pupils blew wider and you felt his hips shift against the bed as he ground down against the sheets. He squinted down at you, his fingers finally slipped farther in and followed the line of your inner lips with featherlight tracing on your clit. Your body spasmed when he pressed a couple circles around the little bud.
“That’s my girl,” he moved to have a bit more leverage as he swirled your slick over you faster.
Sparks slipped through your contracting muscles, making bursts of warm pleasure build in your system. It was so easy to forget about anything outside his lips whispering the occasional encouragement, his eyes staring at every minute facial expression you made, and his fingers bringing you closer and closer to the brink.
You were moaning by now, no longer were your sounds choked squeals and heavy pants. Now they were low groans and silken sounds of need. Occasional profanities slipping forth when a particularly strong spasm hit you and you tried to ride his hand for a couple seconds to encourage nirvana to happen faster.
The consistent twitching of your muscles was slow, encompassing your body like honey falling from a spoon. Starting from your face and moving all the way down to your legs. Then Shinsou felt your thigh twitching on his shoulder and he knew you were close.
“Oh god, so good, so fucking good, don’t stop, m’so close, ‘Tosh,” you were babbling praise and encouragement, though he had really no intention of stopping.
He leaned over you, watching your eyes knit close, and he sank his teeth into the underside of your tit causing your body to practically snap in half. A strangled scream tore itself from your throat as you bucked into his hand and he drew back, lightening his touch to tracing his fingers on either side of your hood.
It was just enough to help you ride it out, help the edges of your vision fuzz more and force new pulses of satisfaction through you, ones that caused dark spots to dance in front of your eyes as they crossed.
When you were coherent enough to look down, your body spasming every time the callouses on his fingers caught your clit just a bit too hard, you met his wonder filled gaze. He stared at you like you’d hung the moon, and you hiccupped in surprise.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you hissed and pushed at his hand. “And stop touching me for a minute.”
He chuckled and shifted back, “Sorry, can’t promise to stop the look, kitten, but I can ease up on the touching.”
You huffed, and Hitoshi grinned as the hand lightly coated in your arousal circled his cock, causing his brow to twitch while he lazily dragged his fist up and down. For a moment you were transfixed with the movement. The slow drag of his finger he added under the flare of his head when he came up to it.
Grumbling, you focused on squirming out of the soaked satin that was your panties. His eyes flashed and he immediately slotted himself back in between your legs when you laid back down. He scraped his teeth along the notches of your ribs while you felt him breach your slickened heat with a finger, your back arching off the mattress and a gasp leaving your mouth.
He gave a couple experimental pumps of his finger before sliding a second one in, causing you to buck and clamp down so hard his dick jumped in excitement.
“Damn, can’t wait to feel that around me,” he whispered.
You were certain you weren’t supposed to hear that, so you just smiled secretively until you felt him curl his fingers, flick his wrist and fuck, those black spots were back within seconds. Your vision darkening at the edges and body responding with a gasp and an instinctual rock of your hips.
He chuckled, “There we go.”
With that he went to work, pulling the most sinful noises from you, causing your body to contort and your breath to hitch. Each push and drag of his fingers seemed to find new places inside you that you never knew existed. You couldn’t draw in enough breath. Your lungs were burning, as if you’d run a marathon and your sounds had changed from drawn out moans and choked screams to barely audible squeals because you just couldn’t find the oxygen.
He felt the quiver in your walls, saw you hips rolling desperately in search of friction against your clit, Shinsou could tell how close you were already. You were so wonderfully easy to read, so responsive and it was all just for him. His teeth sank into his lip as he withdrew his fingers, watching as your body slump back and you huffed.
“Damn it, was so close,” you grumbled as your eyes fluttered open to see Hitoshi hovering over you.
He grinned, guiding himself towards you shuddering pussy, “Yeah, but your next orgasm will be from my dick.”
When the thick head of his length pushed passed your entrance you gasped, he answered with a throaty groan, swallowing hard as he watched his cock slowly disappear into you. He clenched his teeth, muscles tensing as he held himself still at the halfway mark, meeting your eyes to look for anything that spoke of hesitation.
Your skin sparkled with a thin sheen of sweat but you met his gaze steadily, pushing your pelvis towards him with a moan. He grinned, his hand coming up to grab your waist as he shoved in to the base and you gasped, squirming for a moment at the sensation.
He hissed sharply, “Stay still. Fuck! Such a perfect fit.”
His fingers twitched on your skin while he tried to still your movements and his muscles shivered with the desire to start rutting into you. But he knew if he started moving too soon, he wouldn’t last. Not that he expected to last anyway, not with the way you gripped him, not with the way your walls dragged across his length so perfectly once he pulled back.
The deep groan that slipped from him as the flare of his cock caught on your muscles didn’t even come close to expressing the white-hot pleasure shoving its way up his spine. He clenched his jaw, slipping your legs onto each shoulder, he leaned over to brace his palms on either side of your head. His gaze found you and there was so much within that smoldering purple it made you gasp, more so than his shift forward inside you.
“Ready for this,” he asked with a toothy smirk.
But Hitoshi didn’t give you a second to respond before he was rolling his body forward, rubbing right against that spot inside you, that spot that made you sing him praises in breathless screams and ludicrous babbling. He was quick to snap back, the rhythm he picked up was swift and harsh, making your breasts bounce and snarls rip from his chest.
“F-fuck, kitten, how did I- hah- did I go so long without this?” he gasped.
You were practically delirious, wanting this to never end and yet could already feel your body desperately chasing it’s high. The shake of your muscles, the tensing of your cunt, and the ever growing feeling of reaching for something intangible and falling just short. You whined.
“’Tosh,” you said, swallowing thickly. “S-so… so close. Need—”
You brain lost track of its thoughts as he slipped against that spot again and your body jolted, vision flickering for a moment and you keened.
“Yeah? I got you, let’s get you to cum,” his tongue swiped across his bottom lip as his hand trailed over your body and down.
You pushed into his touch, desperate for more stimulation and your nerves firing at every brush of his skin. His thumb dipped between the two of you to roll sloppily over your clit as his hips hitched to push harder against your sensitive walls.
“Oooh, g—god!” you screamed, probably your loudest one yet and Shinsou smiled because there was no way they didn’t hear you downstairs.
He felt your cunt pulse around him, clenching rapidly as your thighs spasmed on either side of his neck, and he breathed steadily, trying to outlast you even as you actively worked on milking him.
“C’mon, babe, cum,” he hissed through clenched teeth and you did just as he said.
You fell apart under him, snapped together tight around him, and shuddered until you thought you’d melt into a puddle. You touched that intangible feeling from earlier, and it rolled into you like waves of lava, washing out your vision and making you unable to breathe, unable to do anything but open your mouth in a silent scream. You humped back onto him, and he cursed lowly, even as his hand slipped from your clit, back to its position earlier, and his body moved faster and faster.
“Fuck, so fucking—” and that’s all it took for his efforts to falter, him to growl and bury his teeth in your shoulder as he twitched inside you and came.
He pushed forward once more, lethargic, and quivered. Wincing, he pulled out, looking down at you with a goofy smile. You were blinking shapes and colors back into your eyes, and smiled back at him, tracing his sweaty brow with a delicate touch.
“I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss into your palm.
You hummed, “Yeah, I think I love you too.”
He snorted out a chuckle, “I think everyone downstairs heard how much you think you love me.”
You rolled your eyes and sighed, shifting to move back a bit against the pillows before you cleaned up and headed back down again, “I don’t think my present to you will be nearly as cool.”
The glint of the anklet on your skin made you smile.
Hitoshi rolled onto his side beside you, “Oho? What did you get me…?”
“Hmmmm… you have to wait until midnight silly, technically you weren’t supposed to give me my present before then either,” you laughed.
“Yeah, well I had to make it up to you somehow,” he kissed the cooling skin of your stomach.
It was in that moment, that very heartbeat, you realized just how much you loved this man. But perhaps he didn’t need to know the depths of your affection quite yet.
New computer is in, i have lost a bit of work here and there in the process of exchanging over but nothing too bad. I will be working away again, i just started setting things up so bear with me
New computer coming tues, it set me back over 1k, i will be finishing up commissions as soon as i get it so i can pay off my debt. Thank you all to my commissioners for you patience!
