On your travels with the two demon companions, you stumble upon a fortified village plagued by monster attacks. It would be quite unlucky if the grand finale happened just as you step foot inside, right? Worry not, you're saved by a third mysterious yokai that you immediately recognize. The harem grows!
Content: female reader, monsters, violence
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guide]
“Alright, how’s this?”
You do a clumsy pirouette before the two yokai men.
“That’s...are you sure?” Kiritsubo eyes you, mildly confused. “It’s usually what men wear.”
Of course, you already know. After weeks of walking through feudal Japan, you’ve reached the conclusion that modern clothing isn’t the most practical choice. Not to mention the strange looks you always get from other people upon your arrival in any village. You needed something to blend in, and the typical fashion for your gender might not be compatible with your training. You’d rather not swing a sword while covered in multiple layers of kimono.
Thus, you opted for the hakama pants typically worn by men. With your hair tied up and in this baggy attire, one could think you’re a young samurai. If they squint enough. You chuckle at the thought.
“She’ll wear whatever allows her to not be a burden.” Murasaki concludes with crossed arms.
One way to put it, you tell yourself.
“If you’re done discussing fashion, we can leave.” The dark-haired man continues with indifference, standing up and adjusting the swords in the folds of his sash.
Both you and Kiritsubo hurry and follow behind obediently.
“Where are we going this time?” You ask sheepishly.
“South-west. An old residence of his, although we will have to pass through a fortified settlement first. We should reach it before sunset.”
It’s hard to imagine you’re the supposed savior in this equation. Murasaki has been leading you by the hand each step, carefully considering every detail on the map, and extensively planning your travels every evening. All this on top of your daily training. You’ve now mastered the basics with the katana he’s provided you, as well as some common prayers for exorcising small-class demons.
You glance at the daisho pair of swords under his belt. A long, thin blade, and a shorter backup version, both in elaborate matching scabbards meant to showcase the status and wealth of the samurai wearing them. In this case, meant to express his rank as the advisor and right hand of the famed onmyōji. You certainly don’t doubt Nakamaro’s decision to rely on Murasaki.
In comparison, Kiritsubo carries a nagamaki at his waist. A comically long blade in your opinion, used mostly to bring down horses during battle. Any regular sword would’ve been too small for him. Despite his imposing appearance, you’ve learned rather quickly just how different Kiritsubo is from the other yokai. He’s quite clumsy in combat, often anxious about making mistakes, terribly apologetic, and overall has a heart too kind for his own good. If there’s hesitation coming from his side, Murasaki immediately follows with his ruthless, ending blows. As a matter of fact, even you’ve had to do the occasional killing to spare the man of such choices.
The silver-haired demon notices your eyes on him and smiles, excited. He reminds you of a large dog. A horned, fanged dog of monstrous strength, nonetheless the innocence is there. And he does make a great travel companion.
“How much longer?” You grunt, looking up.
“Are you tired? I can carry you for the rest of the way-” Kiritsubo instantly offers but is interrupted by Murasaki’s barked orders.
“She can walk. Don’t spoil her.” He glares at you, then nods ahead. “We’re almost there, so quit your whining.”
True to his word, you can finally discern the outline of a wall at the top of the hill. A few more steps, and you can even spot two guards standing beside the great gate.
“Stop there!”
The soldiers lift their spears threateningly. Before you can react, Murasaki steps in front of you with a hand placed on his sword.
“We’re just passing through.” He states factually.
“We’re no longer allowing visitors.” One of the guards exclaims. “The village has been raided by monsters recently and our Lord has closed all gates until the matter is solved.”
“That means no filthy demons go in.” The other adds in a mocking tone, his gaze lingering on the horns of your companions. His mouth curls in disgust.
You can tell Murasaki is angered by the disrespectful approach. He is not one to let such insults slide and you’d rather avoid him claiming unnecessary victims; therefore, you push past his arm and plant yourself ahead with a polite greeting bow.
“These yokai are with me. I vouch for their good behavior, so please consider letting us through. Perhaps we can even help you with these monsters.”
“You? How would you…”
The man stops abruptly, switching between you and the yokai. Eventually he inspects your scabbard, and he gasps, confusion twisting his features.
“Could it be? No…He’d be dead by now.”
“What are you talking about?” His partner inquires impatiently.
“That’s the family seal belonging to Abe no Nakamaro.” He explains, pointing to the golden finish at the end of your katana handle. “I’ve heard about him from my grandparents. But it’s been decades!”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re saying this kid is a legendary onmyōji?”
“Who else would show up with demons as servants? Everything matches. Perhaps his powers have finally reached immortality”, he concludes solemnly.
The men continue their argument, and you clear your throat, embarrassed. What the hell? You can’t possibly look that manly. Sure, you’ve been skipping the makeup, and the clothes aren’t exactly curve shaping, but to be mistaken for an old man is like a slap to the face.
You’re about to deny their claims, but Murasaki swiftly pinches the back of your neck, and you wince. He lowers himself to your ear and whispers:
“This will be to our advantage. Just go along with it.” “Fine!” You mumble angrily. Then you turn back to the guards.
“V-very well, I see I haven’t been forgotten.” You admit, theatrically. “Lead me to your Lord and we shall discuss the details of your monster attack.”
Thus, you sip on your tea, kneeling at the luxurious table and awaiting the arrival of the feudal Lord. The servants are exchanging words, gossiping fervently next to the wall. “I wonder if he can cure my daughter!” one woman mumbles, visibly emotional.
“Do you think we can finally be saved? He’ll truly exorcise the beasts tormenting our village?” another whispers.
You wipe the sweat from your forehead and glare at Murasaki. You had no idea he’d given you Nakamaro’s old sword. Now you’re stuck pretending to be a pompous, long-dead asshat.
“What if they catch us?” You hiss between your teeth. “I don’t know shit about onmyōdō.”
“Then I’ll just kill them all. Simple as that.” The crimson-eyed man retorts, unconcerned. “Have a little fun, won’t you?”
“W-we’ll help you come up with answers, (Y/N). Don’t worry.” Kiritsubo chimes in, trying to reassure you.
You sigh in frustration and look out the window. The sun must’ve set a long time ago and has since been replaced by a pitch-black sky. What’s keeping the Lord? Surely, he can’t be having important business meetings late at night.
Almost as if your thoughts were read, the door slides open and a servant wobbles in. The rest of the household workers are silent, expecting the entrance of their master, but no one is following behind. You observe the bizarre limp of the woman. Suddenly, she collapses to the floor, revealing her bloodied back torn by deep wounds, caused by some sort of claw. Her body is stiff.
Panic settles in right away, and the servants topple over each other to get away from the fresh cadaver. You struggle to get up among the terrified crowd, but thankfully Murasaki grabs your wrist and pulls you out into a quieter hallway.
“What the hell?” is all you manage to say.
“Rotten.” Kiritsubo furrows his brows, sniffing the air. “Someone in here must be possessed. Could be more of them.”
Murasaki surveys the surroundings and gestures towards his partner.
“We have to see if the Lord is still alive. You go that way. I’ll take the front. Kill everyone suspicious.”
“What about me?” You demand, holding your breath.
“Get out and wait for us. You know how to draw a protection circle, don’t you? I won’t take long.” The dark-haired yokai answers before vanishing.
Judging by the screams and wails coming from all directions, you suspect Kiritsubo is right about multiple attackers. You sprint across the hall, looking for an opening. The self-defense lessons didn’t cover cursed humans with demonic powers. You’ll stay out of this one.
What an absolute mess. You have encountered some demons in your weeks spent here, but nothing to this degree. When the guards mentioned a monster attack, you imagined a ghost with a grudge, or some small fry yokai scaring the workers at night, not a mass curse that ends in a massacre. Of course, it had to happen the moment you arrived at the main house.
You find a room with a door leading to the inner courtyard. Seems isolated enough and it should provide a bit of shelter while you wait for the pair to finish the business. As you rush past the dead bodies, you notice a woman hiding behind a screen divider.
“Ah! It’s you!” she yells, aware of your presence.
From the shadow of her secret spot emerges the small frame of a child. The woman pushes the little human towards you, blocking your path.
“Don’t worry, he’ll protect us.” she gives her child another nudge. “Go on, hold onto him. You’ll be safe.”
What? No, no, no, no, no. Not happening. You’re getting out.
“Ma’am, sorry to break it to you under such circumstances, but I’m not-”
You’re interrupted by a loud growl. One of the possessed creatures must’ve followed your scent, and it’s now sliding into the room on all fours with the bones of the limbs twisting and creaking in unnatural pounces. You purse your lips in a frightened grimace. One advantage of the wide hakama pants – useful to know – is that no one can see your knees shaking cowardly.
Theoretically, you could use the brat as bait and run for your life. It’d make a decent obstacle. Unfortunately for your life span, you’ve been gifted with an idiotic sense of duty instead of survival instincts.
“Keep your distance. If I can’t kill it, get out and don’t look back” you advise, positioning yourself in the learned stance and sliding the sword out of its sheath.
Damn it! Then again, it should be like fighting a zombie, right? Given the pathetic way it drags itself around, it can’t be too difficult to hit. Aim for the head, you repeat in your mind. Your fingers grip around the handle.
The ghoulish beast lowers itself, like a spring about to recoil, and leaps across the room with an ease you did not anticipate. Despite your iron hold, it slaps the blade out of your hands with enormous force. The impact breaks your skin, and you wince. There’s no time to weep, within seconds it could go for your vitals next. While Murasaki hasn’t gotten around to teaching you much hand-to-hand combat, you’ve read your fair share of shounen manga. The first idea that comes to mind is to put the beast in a sumo lock. You bend your knees smoothly and wrap your arms around the monster, feeling for something to hold onto. You grit your teeth and attempt to lift the creature.
A thundering laugh resonates within the walls, and you jolt, startled.
“I never thought I’d see the mighty Abe no Nakamaro wrestling with ankle biters like this. What are you going to do, throw it out of the ring?”
The voice is deep, loud, and unfamiliar. You can’t afford to look back to see the source, but it’s not hard to figure out the possibilities. So far, you’ve only been called by that cursed name by the yokai accomplices. Although now is not the best time to seek revenge.
“Shut up, I panicked”, you snap in frustration. “If you can’t help, keep that trap closed!”
The sudden burst of anger seems to have triggered something within your body, a power you don’t recognize. You watch as your arms effortlessly pick up the monster and swing it across the room, its body demolishing the opposing wall and causing thick clouds of dust to rise and spread everywhere.
The impact must’ve alerted the nearby ghouls, as you can now hear the agitated trample and screeching rapidly approaching. You’re not confident you can pull the same lucky move a second time.
You turn to search for your sword, but it’s already being handed to you by the mysterious yokai who’s been observing your little fight. You have to step aside and tilt your head all the way back in order to fully view the gigantic frame of the man.
Ah, you recognize the features immediately. The same kind of fear you felt when you stumbled upon that old shrine statue is now tugging at your chest.
“You’re Suma, right?”
A proud, wide grin forms on his face, revealing a pair of glistening fangs. His expression is unexpectedly soft and friendly.
“We’re halfway through our introductions then, eh?” You pick up the sword and his fingers stretch out for a handshake. “What is your given name? I’m guessing you don’t willingly go by that…title.”
“I very much prefer (Y/N), yes.” You marvel at the significant difference in size, placing your small hand in his. “Was that your power I just used?”
“Mhhm. You sure surprised me there! It’s not something I did intentionally, but I s’ppose we just resonate that well, huh?”
He laughs again, completely unbothered by the impending danger.
“Alright, you can leave the rest to me. Take the lady outside, it will get a little messy.”
And with that, he casually walks towards the gathering of ghouls. You guide the family to the courtyard and wait for the battle to end.
“Do you think she’ll be fine by herself?” Kiritsubo is resting against the fence, keeping you under a watchful gaze.
“Let the humans sort it out among themselves.” Murasaki responds, somewhat bored.
The morning after the attack, you offered to deal with the survivors: ask them how everything started, if they’d noticed anything suspicious days prior to the event, and if the route to Nakamaro’s old residence was still open. The yokai men had found the feudal Lord in the jaws of a possessed creature and he quickly succumbed to his wounds. Consequently, only the remaining servants could provide them with clues.
A village being targeted like this is highly unusual, and Murasaki can’t shake the feeling it could be related to their master.
“Oh, where are you heading after this?” The silver-haired yokai glances at Suma, sitting lazily next to them.
“Where? After you just told me the whole story? I’m way too invested in this modern reincarnation that just popped out of nowhere, so I’m tagging along!” He announces with a chuckle.
Murasaki frowns.
“We don’t need your help.”
“Don’t be like that.” The giant man pouts dramatically. “Are you upset I saved (Y/N) before you?”
“W-we were on our way!” Kiritsubo retorts, visibly bothered.
“It’s a done deal!” Suma rests his hands under his head and yawns. “Besides, the little human already said he doesn’t mind.”
“He? (Y/N) is a woman.”
The redhead abruptly sits up and gasps.
“Wait, what?”
“Don’t get funny ideas, man”, the silver-haired demon warns.
College AU Nobunaga!
Warnings: mentions of violence, unhealthy relationships, smut, noncon, oral (male receiving), abusive relationships
Word Count: 8.8k
“You’ve got guts, ignoring Nobunaga like that.”
When those words were spoken, your focus was on making sure you had everything you needed for your class that would start in only a few minutes, double-checking to make sure you had completed the assignments that had been required. Since the name you heard wasn’t one that you immediately recognized, you ignored the voice. Clearly, whoever was speaking wasn’t talking to you.
That was what you thought until you heard that same voice saying your name.
You looked over to find a guy you remembered as being named Konstantin standing next to you, watching at you expectantly as you looked up from where you sat. The two of you weren’t friends, so you weren’t sure why he would go out of his way to talk to you
“I said, you’ve got guts ignoring Nobunaga like that,” he repeated, “but you’ll regret making an enemy out of him. Making an enemy out of that guy also means making an enemy out of his whole group.”
You stared at him blankly for a few moments.
“Uh, what are you talking about?” you finally asked.
“That stunt you pulled the other day,” he said.
“Stunt? What stunt?”
“C'mon. You really think this clueless act is gonna save you when he catches you alone?”
At hearing that, you started to get worried.
“When who catches me?” you asked.
“You know. Nobunaga. Nobunaga Hazama. One of the top athletes on campus, and the guy that you totally blew off the other day.”
Keep reading
the squid game kuroo one !!!! i will defs be going back to that
im so sick of scrolling thru my likes just to find a 500 word piece so here are all my favs on tumblr. none of these are mine.
Geto Suguru
Polluted (Multi)*
Bullying hcs
Gojo Satoru
Polluted (Multi)*
One moment was all it took (Dark!Soulmate!Gojo)*
Bad Boys Bring Roses (Yakuza!Gojo)*
Sukuna
Fight Night *
Polluted (Multi)*
The morning after (yakuza!sukuna)
Satosugu
Satosugu murdering your kid (cuz they love you or whatever)
College au Satosugu
Oikawa
Naga!au
Bully*
Like Nobody Else
The Lion’s Den
Iwaizumi
Naga! au
Like Nobody Else
Inexorable
Bokuto
Delusional fool*
Tutoring Session*
Kuroo
Undone (Squidgame au)*
Gift wrapped*
Osamu/Atsumu
Different*
control+shift+n*
complex*
Tendou
Unprofessional(office au)
Outrunning Fate
HxH
Illumi
Trips
Enjoy the Silence (vampire!Illumi)*
Ingress [Part Two] [Part Three]*
Chrollo
30 Seconds (Bodyswap Soulmate AU)
Incitement*
Snowfall
Cost Affection
Uvogin
Lucky find*
Set Up (poly!Uvogin x reader x Franklin)
Shalnark
Sixth floor game
Moving Up (mafiaAU)
Nobunaga
Digging Deeper (College!Au)*
Connor
Connor likes to inflict pain*
Conor+Nines study group*
Connor + somnophilia*
Connor+hank escape attempt
The blue dress
Nines
Conor+Nines study group*
Simeon
Simeon gives mc an Aphrodiasic *
Simeon+Diavolo Corruption*
Drugging Mc with Cookies
Simeon+somniphilia *
Diavolo
Dissonance
Simeon+Diavolo Corruption*
mafiaAU! Shalnark
Warnings: arson, mentions of torture, mentions of death, Shalnark being a creep
Word count: 4.2k
You had to call him eventually.
As you looked over the charred and foamy pile of what had once been store product, you could only put off the inevitable for so long. Arson was serious, to say the least, and you were told that if anything like this happened, you needed to call him so that he could decide where you went from there.
So why were you stalling? Probably because with a lot of floor cleaner, trash bags and a lot of hard work, you could clean up the mess without anyone even knowing what had happened. Sure, it would take all day and would only cost the store money, but it wasn’t like you would be making anything today with the burnt pile that currently sat in the middle of the floor.
But the first big issue with that plan was that your boss had told you to make the call. He had been the one to discover the fire and subsequently put it out, and after doing that he made you come in on your day off, gave you a run-down of what had happened and then gave you the order to call the troupe. Trying to get out of doing that would just cause him to give you grief for it later.
And the second thing was that the Phantom Troupe always inevitably found out any secrets anyone tried to hide from them. They had lackeys all over the city and a reliable information network that traveled fast. It wouldn’t surprise you if one of their underlings was aware of the fire and that word had already reached the ears of the man you were supposed to call. That would leave you in an awkward position of trying to come up with an excuse as to why it had taken you so long to contact him.
How long had it been, anyway?
You glanced over to the clock.
….. It’d been over an hour. Somehow you’d wasted an entire hour pushing off the inevitable.
Ah, fuck.
Keep reading
♡ jason todd (my vigilante boyfriend)
guard dog vol 1 & vol 2 by @mostly-imagines
baby daddy by @cipheress-to-k-pop
the bet by @yueebby
this fic by @ofbatsandballads
this fic by @plethorawrites
1-800-red-hoods-gas-station-attendant-service by @chaotic-birds
this fic by @pedrasacorn
its so sweet by @angelfic
↳ this fic by @/angelfic
↳ a boy who's jacked and kind by @/angelfic
↳ this fic by @/angelfic
nothings gonna hurt you baby by @ahqkas
this fic by @fcthots
this fic by @enviedear
this fic by @hisfavoritesundress
hero's soup by @aangelinakii
i like yandere fics because i would much rather be locked in a basement and subjected to unspeakable horrors than work
this is a fic that I wrote for @hypnoswrites's birthday! (tho I was a bit late in getting it done😅)
please keep in mind the tags on this one
Morel x female!reader
Warnings: yandere, kidnapping, dubcon, drugging, abuse, dehumanization, stockholm syndrome, victim blaming, Morel is not very nice in this fic
Word Count: 12.1k
The sound of creaking wood.
The heady smell of sea salt.
The steady rocking sensation as the world around you was being moved back and forth, back and forth. Consistently. Endlessly.
You groaned, pressing your face into the soft pillow as you yearned for more sleep. You were exhausted, after all. After all that effort, all that planning and carrying out that plan of yours – it had taken up a lot of energy, mentally and physically. So after all of that, you deserved to take a break, to reward yourself, even if it was a reward as simple as sleeping in just a bit longer. That wasn't so much to ask for, was it?
No, it wasn't.
Feeling the way your arms were stretched out above your head, you found that it'd be more comfortable if you brought them back down from where they sat on the pillow. In fact, you wanted to turn over, as you found you didn't quite like the way you were laying on your front. Intending to turn to your side, you pulled your arms down.
Or rather, you tried to.
Something stopped you. Something that was wrapped around both of your wrists that kept your arms from moving freely and held them in place above your head.
That was strange.
That feeling increased when you attempted to move your legs to shift to your side, as you found that your lower half was in a similar state: something soft but firm had been wrapped around your ankles that kept your legs attached to the bed and spread wide.
Why? What had happened to you?
A chill suddenly ran through you, hitting your exposed skin and running down the length of your spine.
…… Were you naked? What the fuck-
The creaking of wood sounded again, this time accompanied by the sound of waves splashing against a solid surface.
For the first time since waking up, you snapped your eyes open to look at where you were.
……..
This was Morel's room.
…. No.
No no no no no no no no no
Why were you back here? How had you been caught? Why the fuck were you back here?
Straining your neck to look over your shoulder, you were horrified to see that you were correct in what you had been wondering earlier: you were naked, and a further look at your ankles and wrists confirmed that the reason why you couldn't move them was because they had been securely attached to the bedposts, leaving you vulnerable and helpless.
Your breath began to come out in short bursts as you started to struggle against the bindings. You shouldn't be back here. You couldn't be back here. Not after everything. After all you had done to escape him, to escape the prison that was his boat while he kept you around just so he could have something to fuck when he was in the mood.
No, that wasn't a life you wanted to live anymore. That was why you left. That was why you escaped him.
Sweat was beading on your skin as you pulled at your wrists, attempting to slip your hands through the bindings so you could get away for good this time.
I need to leave I need to get out of here before he comes back -
A hand came down to grab the back of your neck and you froze.
The touch of that hand was cool in contrast with your heated skin, and the intent you felt as you were grabbed seemed to resemble a warning. A promise that if you continued as you were, something bad was going to follow. Something that you wouldn't like at all.
Relaxing your arms and legs, you cautiously looked up at the figure that had laid their hand on you.
It was one of Morel's smoke soldiers.
White, expressionless eyes stared down at you, all the while they kept their grip firm on your neck, the cold mist that made them up seeping into your skin. They must have been in the room and you hadn't even realized, you thought to yourself. You were too disoriented and shocked by your unexpected predicament to notice that they were even there.
Several uncertain moments passed as they held your gaze, their hand still wrapped firmly around your neck while you watched them, waiting for what their next move would be.
What Morel would make them do.
You remained still – as still as you were able to, at least. You couldn't help the way you trembled as you stared at the soldier that continued to hold you, but surely that wouldn't be an issue. The fact that you had stopped trying to escape the bindings should be something that would make the soldier happy – that would make Morel happy. If Morel was happy then things were good, you remembered.
Though when you considered what you had done to Morel to escape him, it likely wouldn't be that simple of a solution.
Eventually, the soldier let you go. Though not quickly, as they chose to slowly release their grip on you, letting you feel the pressure on your neck gradually dissipate before releasing you completely. Even then, their hand didn't leave you, as they chose to run their fingertips down the length of your spine, mapping out every bump and curve of your back softly before they reached the flesh of your ass. They pressed their hand more firmly against you there, causing you to gasp in surprise and a sense of indignity. They continued to hold your gaze after that, still squeezing you as if daring you to protest, to give them a reason to lash out at your disobedience.
As much as you wanted to do that, as much as you wanted to scream and yell at that thing, at Morel, to let you go…… Now wasn't the time.
A few moments later, the soldier pulled away completely and stepped back, crossing their arms as they seemed satisfied with your submission. That was when you allowed yourself to let out a shaky breath of relief.
As you settled further on the bed and slowly breathed in and out, you found that your mind felt clearer.
Their cool touch had been what you needed. Despite hating the way they grabbed you, it had helped your mind to calm down, reminded you that you couldn't brute force your way out of this and that you needed to think. Take a deep breath and use your head.
Start with what happened, you told yourself. How did things go so wrong that they turned out like this?
Breathing in through your nose, you closed your eyes as you went back to what you'd been dealing with over the past few months; a period of time that felt like an eternity after being taken by Morel – no, not taken. That word didn't accurately describe the gravity of what he'd done.
He'd kidnapped you.
The man that you had thought was a good guy, and a single star Hunter, no less, had snatched you away from everything you'd known just to keep you locked up on his boat, pretending that the two of you were a couple in a loving relationship and that you were his wife who was always there at the end of every day to welcome him back with open arms. A role that you had vehemently refused to play.
At first.
But as more time passed and you realized that he really did have the power to keep you where he wanted, you chose to change your strategy. You told yourself then, just as you had only moments prior, that you couldn't brute force your way out of this terrible, terrible situation.
The only way you could get away from Morel was to be smart about it.
Coming up with and executing a plan to escape from Morel had been stressful and time-consuming. It had required you to build up a lot of good will beforehand, to make him think that you were accepting of the idea of staying with him and were no longer interested in returning to your old home. Being inexplicably over eager for his affections would've raised his suspicions, so it needed to be done over time.
That was why, gradually, you had stopped shying away from his touch and let him hold you if he wanted. You would engage in conversation, going from giving one-word replies to actively engaging with him. You even did some normal couple stuff together, having nights where you cooked together, watched movies and listened to music. Like little date nights aboard his boat.
Morel was ecstatic by the change in you and clearly believed that his efforts were finally paying off. Which was what you needed. Getting away from him hinged on him being so trusting of you that he kept his guard lowered, that he didn't suspect that you would try anything this late in the game.
Unfortunately, getting him to be completely convinced of that meant that you needed to sleep with him.
That was where you found yourself on the night of your escape: in the bedroom, bouncing up and down on Morel's cock while he was laid out on the bed beneath you, his hands tightly gripping your hips and his eyes full of awe as he watched the way you moved on top of him. He drank in the sight greedily, watching your breasts that moved every time you slid down on him before turning his gaze to your wet pussy that engulfed his length completely. The man was genuinely happy that you'd asked to be on top, taking it as further confirmation that you were content in being with him.
That was good. Even though you were fighting down bile that rose to your throat every time the ridges of his cock hit a spot inside of you that caused a pleasurable shudder to run through you, it was good that he was happy. If he was happy with you, surely that meant that he trusted you. You were counting on that. Counted on him being so distracted by this new attitude of yours that he wouldn't think to question the action you would take after.
Your escape started after your coupling had ended; after Morel came when he felt you shuddering on his cock, after you pressed your face against your chest to prevent yourself from showing any signs of how truly disgusted you were by the feeling of him filling you, after he placed hands on you, stroking your hair and running down your back while he kept his dick inside of you.
After composing yourself, you waited a few moments as you pretended that you were enjoying his touch before you lifted your head back up, catching his attention with a bright smile on your face.
“Want something to drink?” you asked sweetly.
Morel smiled back as he answered “sure.”
The satisfied look he had on his face while you left the bedroom made you wish you could punch him and have the hit actually hurt him. It pissed you off – the way he lay there with his hands behind his head, a picture of contentment, a feeling that he certainly didn't deserve to experience after he'd kidnapped you.
But as much as you wanted to hit him, escape was the better option for the long term. That was what you had told yourself as you entered the kitchen.
And when you pulled out two glasses and a carton of juice, you cast only a single nervous glance towards the bedroom before lifting up a paper towel roll and pulling out the small packet that you'd placed inside of it earlier. After filling up both glasses with juice, you opened the top of the packet that you'd constructed out of a spare piece of paper and emptied the contents into one of them.
When the concoction of crushed up sleeping pills and juice was thoroughly mixed together, you made your way back to the bedroom.
When you handed him the tampered juice, you didn't even look at him when he began to drink, too worried that even a single glance would be all he needed to realize that something was amiss. After months of sneaking around behind his back and grinding up those pills in secret, you couldn't let all of that work go down the drain because you couldn't act normal for a bit.
He ended up drinking a little over half of the glass you'd given him, and after you both set them on the small bedside table, Morel pulled you into his arms again, throwing the sheets back over the both of you as he made you cuddle with him.
“I really love you,” he murmured, “you know that, right?”
“I know,” you said, waiting a moment before you added “I love you, too.”
Your soft-spoken reciprocation of his feelings was enough to earn you a kiss as he pulled you up to lock his lips with yours. Just like everything else that night, you had forced yourself to go along with it, kissing him back gently. Somehow that show of love felt more disgusting than the way you had let him fuck you.
You pulled away from the kiss as you settled your head back onto his chest.
“I'm tired,” you murmured.
“Me too,” he answered, his hand going back up to stroke your hair while he added “we can continue in the morning.”
“I'd like that,” you told him.
Morel looked back at you again, smiling brightly as he took in what he perceived to be a content look on your face. With that, he reached over to turn off the light in the room, but he couldn't resist placing one last kiss to your forehead before he settled down for the night.
The man was capable of being so sweet and caring; he probably could've had any girl he wanted. So why the hell had he gone and kidnapped you?
It was a question you didn't think you were going to get an answer to, but hopefully it would be the last time you would lie in his bed thinking about it.
You couldn't say how much time passed before Morel was out of it completely. You only felt that the pills were taking their intended affect when you heard the sounds of his steady breathing and felt when his grip on you had loosened a bit.
After slowly inching your way out of his loosened grip and hitting the light switch, you stared at him. Morel didn't react when the lights came back on, and when you pushed at the arm that had been laying of you, it felt more limp and lifeless than you were expecting.
Still, better safe than sorry.
“Morel?” you spoke, your voice barely over a whisper.
No response.
When you tried again, at a volume that surely would have roused the sea hunter from the hold of sleep, your heart beat heavily against your chest as you saw no reaction.
It worked.
It worked it worked it worked it worked
Morel was in a deep sleep and he wouldn't be up for hours. Only hours, but still, it was the biggest head start you would ever get.
And as you stood from the bed to collect the things you would need when you returned to shore, the rest was history.
Even though something had gone wrong since you had ended up back here, you felt a small sense of pride upon revisiting your escape. You'd managed something that seemed like it should've been impossible, after all. And while before all of this had happened you probably would've been horrified at the thought of drugging someone with sleeping pills, things were different now. Morel deserved much worse than being knocked out soundly for several hours.
But after all of that, how had he caught you?
You closed your eyes as you tried to remember what had happened after.
Getting off the boat had been something of an ordeal, as the waters had been choppier than you had anticipated. But you had managed to get to shore using a life jacket and doggy paddling your way to the nearby shore. From there, you had walked along a road you had come across. You were slower than you would have liked due to how much of your energy had been spent escaping the boat, but the important thing was that you kept moving. Even as night turned to day and the sun slowly rose over the horizon, you kept walking, reminding yourself that every step you took was adding the distance between you and Morel, making the possibility of you being recaptured less and less likely.
Or so you had thought.
But how had that happened?
A friendly motorist had pulled up in front of you at one point, and upon seeing how exhausted you were, they had offered you a ride to a town that was several miles away. You had accepted, and subsequently fought to stay awake during the car ride as the passenger's seat felt like a godsend after the way your muscles ached from both the swimming and the walking. And after that……
You'd made it a few days away from him. By hitchhiking and sleeping when and where you could, you got further and further away from the shoreline that led to the open sea, further and further away from what you considered to be Morel's territory. You chose to approach friendly looking people who were driving away from that direction and avoided the police, worried that if you went to them with your story, they wouldn't believe you if you said that a Hunter had kidnapped you. Or maybe they would, but they would decide that it was better not to make an enemy of the Hunter's Association and instead deliver you back to him.
Regardless, you did pretty well for yourself, as to make it a few days running away from a Hunter as experienced as Morel was something to be at least a little proud of.
But that didn't matter now.
Somehow, he had caught you, and you could only guess that it had happened during a time where you had been sleeping, as you had no memory of him confronting or capturing you. You were caught and were now back in the place where you had started, and the chance of escaping a second time seemed like it would be impossible.
When you thought of that, you wanted to cry.
But you held back your tears. The soldier was still in the room with you, still watching you. You knew enough about Morel's smoke creatures to know that there was some sort of mental link that they shared, and Morel was no doubt watching you even now, keeping an eye on you even when he was away.
Things weren't going to be easy from here, but you could get away again. It would take time – even more time than you had taken to convince Morel that you were happy with him, but another opportunity for escape could happen again.
It needed to.
Your tumultuous thoughts were put to the side when you heard something other than the creaking of the boat and the lapping of the water:
The sound of the door that led to the outside being opened, followed by footsteps.
In an instant your eyes were open, and you were staring at the door to the bedroom as you heard the footsteps descending the small flight of stairs that led to the boat's interior, becoming louder as they came closer and closer to where you were.
You knew who it was. The soldier wasn't reacting and was keeping its gaze firmly on you. If the source of those footsteps had been anyone who wasn't meant to be there, the smoke creation would have been on them in an instant. The fact that it remained where it was told you that it could only be one person.
And when those footsteps stopped just in front of the door and you heard a familiarly deep voice sigh ever so slightly, it acted as a confirmation that you didn't really need, but you tried to steel yourself regardless.
The door to the bedroom opened, and in the doorway stood a single figure.
Morel.
A very upset-looking Morel whose frown only deepened when he saw the way you looked at him. Stepping in and closing the bedroom door with his foot, he walked forward until he was standing next to the bed, his hands in his pockets as he looked down at you. It was hard to tell where exactly his mind was with the way his sunglasses hid his eyes, but there was a very prominent sense of dread that was building up in the pit of your stomach.
You were in for it.
And since this was the furthest you had ever gone to try and get away from him, you were terrified at what sort of response he was going to have.
Agonizing moments of silence passed as you waited for him to speak, the only sound that you could hear being the waves that lapped against the side of the boat. He likely hadn't wasted any time in taking you back out into the open ocean once he got ahold of you again. And now after getting as close as you had in escaping him, it would be a long, long, long time before you would have even a remote chance of leaving again.
Then Morel spoke.
“You can be really unbelievable sometimes, you know.”
While the expression on his face remained impassive as he said that, the anger in his voice was undeniable. There was also no denying how tense his form was, the rage within him that was currently being restrained. In all of your time with him, you had never made him truly upset. You had annoyed him – you had caused him to snap at you when you begged him one too many times to let you go, but even in those instances, it would blow over quickly. He would push for you to apologize; when he got what he wanted he would apologize himself, and then he would move on from it, letting those small incidents go as he was more interested in obsessing over you.
This wasn't going to be one of those times.
Morel continued, “I'm not going to lie and say that I've been perfect during our time together, and I understand that you still have some reservations about all of this, but after all that we've been through, all of the progress that we've made – you really went and drugged me? You wanted to get away from me so badly that you went that far?”
You shouldn't say anything to him. Even if you were to apologize, it wouldn't be received well. He must've figured out that you had planned this far in advance, must've found the little paper envelope you had fashioned that had held the crushed up pills. He must've figured out that the entire reason you had asked for the sleeping pills was just so you could use them on him.
No amount of apologizing was going to make this any better for you, so it was smarter to stay silent.
Except you couldn't bring yourself to do that.
“I want to go home,” you muttered sadly, tears already starting to prick the edges of your eyes.
“You are home,” said Morel.
“No, I'm not,” you answered, “this place could never be a home for me. Not after you kidnapped me.”
He had the audacity to sound exasperated when he said “that again? I told you – it's for your own good. If I keep you here, you're guaranteed to be safe whether I'm around or not.”
“I didn't ask you to keep me safe. I didn't ask for any of this,” you protested.
“I know, and that was why I needed to take you, because you're so stubborn that nothing I said was going to convince you,” Morel said plainly, “I hate to say it, but you don't know what's best for yourself. That's why I needed to step in.”
That statement of his sent a red-hot rage flooding through you, and you clenched your hands into fists as you stared up at him in disbelief, daring him to continue to spout his nonsense justifications.
He did just that as he said “the world is a dangerous place, far more dangerous than you even know. I tried to leave you where you were for a bit – I really did, but it was a constant worry at the back of my head. I worried over you so much that it was affecting me when I was doing my job. I even slipped up a few times and got hurt because of it. And it's all because you're so weak and helpless. Anyone or anything could kill you without much effort. That was why I would get so distracted: if something like that happened while I was away and unable to protect you, I knew I'd never forgive myself.”
You hated that you could tell that he wasn't mocking you, not intentionally. The man genuinely saw you as some weak little thing that needed someone looking out for them, and he had brought it upon himself to take that role that he thought you needed.
Bastard
“So that's why I did what I did,” Morel continued, “and I'm not going to apologize for that. Not when all I want is to keep you safe.”
“….. Bullshit.”
You felt Morel's gaze grow darker as he stared at you, saying “what's that?”
“…. That explanation is bullshit and you know it. None of this is being done for my sake,” you said.
“Everything about this is being done for your sake.”
“No it's not. Even in that stupid explanation of yours, all you could focus on was the way you felt and what you wanted. You didn't like worrying over me because it affected you negatively, so you locked me up to put an end to that, because you couldn't be fucking normal and trust that I'd be okay. Because for someone like you, capturing a person and treating them like a pet is easier than respecting that person's autonomy. As long as you get what you want, nothing else matters, right?”
“Plus, keeping me as your pet came with the added benefit of you being able to fuck me whenever you wanted. Must be pretty good for someone who doesn't view others as being people,” you spat out.
Morel's mouth was set in a hard line and his jaw barely moved as he said “it's nothing like that.”
“How is it not?”
“I care about you.”
“You treat me like an object and you claim to care about me? Really?”
“That isn't true. I don't treat you like that.”
“You kidnapped me and locked me up,” you said.
“Because I'm protecting you,” he countered.
“You aren't!” you insisted, “you're just using that claim as an excuse to justify keeping me with you!”
“It's not an excuse. I love you.”
“Stop lying!”
You managed to get those words out with more force than even you were expecting, and it seemed to surprise Morel enough that he didn't speak while you said “there's no part of you that can genuinely love and care about me if the fact that I'm suffering in this place doesn't matter to you!”
“You're being taken care of. You're hardly suffering,” Morel scoffed.
“I am because I fucking hate this place! I've hated every minute I've needed to spend on this stupid boat and all I want is to leave! I hate being here and I hate being with you! Every time you touch me makes me want to vomit and I wish you'd drop dead already!”
“….. You don't mean that.”
His voice was low rumble when he said that, and even in your current state, you were able to sense something dangerous within his tone. Under different circumstances, you would've backed off, would've at the very least quieted down until you sensed that he was in a better mood.
But right now you were emotional and upset over being brought back to where you started and being stripped naked and tied up, and all you wanted was to let out all of the anger and resentment that had been building up during your time here.
“I mean it. This place could never be my home. Trapped on some fucking boat every day all day – why the hell would I ever choose to be here? To be with you?”
You spat out that last part on purpose, which caused his brows to pinch together as his expression only grew more grim.
“I've been good to you,” Morel had the audacity to say.
“You kidnapped me,” you countered.
“I don't know how many times you want me to say that it was for your own good,” he replied, “you weren't being cooperative and I wasn't going to take a chance of something happening to you while I was away. It was the only option I had to ensure your safety and happiness.”
“Fuck you!”
The angry words continued to spill from your mouth as you yelled at him.
“You're so focused on what you want that you've deluded yourself into thinking I could ever be happy in a place like this!” you shouted, “you keep me on this goddamn boat so you can have something to fuck whenever you're in the mood, and then you run off to do your Hunter shit while I'm locked away on a floating cage! Nothing about this situation will ever make me happy and you're never going to be anything to me other than the worthless creep who kidnapped me and forced himself on me even after I told you 'no'!”
You paused after that, breathing hard as you looked up at him while the adrenaline rushed through you. It felt good to say what you really thought. To lay everything out there as it truly was, to shatter his delusional way of looking at what he had done to you.
It all felt good until it didn't.
When your breathing began to even out, the cold reality of the situation set in. The reality being that no matter what verbal lashing you sent Morel's way, you were still incredibly vulnerable before him, tied down naked to the bed he had made you share with him while he stood above you, stiff as a statue and with a stormy expression on his face.
He could always kill you, a voice in your head spoke. With the boat likely being out in the middle of the ocean, he could tie you down to something heavy and drop you in the water, and you'd be long dead before anyone found your body, if they found it at all.
Would that be better than spending another day with Morel?
You weren't sure what the answer to that question was, because Morel finally moved, pulling his hands out of his pockets in order to undo the belt buckle at his front.
What's he doing?
Panic began to grow in you as you watched him pull the belt off without a word, sliding it through the loops of his pants before it was dangling in his hand while a look of grim determination had settled on Morel's face. The air around you felt different and that confidence fueled by your own anger had died out as you returned to being his terrified captive.
“Wh-what are you doing?” you made yourself ask.
Morel straightened up somewhat upon hearing your voice, looking back to you.
“Ah, right,” he said, more to himself than to you, as if he had forgotten something.
Handing the belt to the smoke soldier, Morel stepped towards the bed as he now reached for his tie, undoing the knotted fabric with deft fingers as he stared down at you.
“I'm going to need you to open your mouth,” he told you, “I don't want you biting your tongue on accident.”
Looking at his tie and then back at him, you asked “you're gonna gag me?”
“Yeah.”
With that, he reached out with the tie in hand as he attempted to force it into your mouth.
“No!”
You yelled loudly as you twisted your neck, once again struggling against your bindings as you tried to keep that bit of fabric out of your mouth.
“Stop fighting me,” Morel growled as he grabbed a hold of your hair.
“No!” you yelled again, still struggling even when you felt the grip he had on your hair become even more tight and painful.
The red fabric was being pressed against your lips as he tried to force it into your mouth, and even though you clamped your jaw shut in an effort to keep it out, you already felt the way he was prying your mouth open.
Was it really a good idea to keep doing this? Any resistance from this point would mean a slimmer chance of escape at a later time. If you kept fighting, you were looking at needing to play docile for him for a long, long while until he trusted you again. The smart choice would be to accept what he was doing in favor of having him be at least a little pleased with you over how you were submitting to him. Because if he was happy, then his guard could be dropped once again.
That was a mantra you had repeated to yourself for several months, and you knew that you should listen to it. It was the smarter decision.
“You're only making this worse for yourself.”
The sound of Morel's voice cut into your internal thoughts while he continued to try to force the tie into your mouth, and upon hearing the anger in his tone, the way he felt that you, the victim, were somehow in the wrong –
It enraged you.
With nothing else at your disposal, you turned your head to face him and spat on him.
The shock on the Sea Hunter's face was evident, his anger dissipating for a moment as he stared at you in disbelief, no doubt able to feel the bit of saliva that had landed on his cheek as it slowly ran down his skin and reached his jaw.
Truthfully, a part of you was also surprised at that action; you'd never done something like that before.
But no one had ever made you as angry as Morel had before this moment, either.
You weren't able to ponder that line of thought for long, because shortly after, Morel's shock shifted into anger, his brows narrowing into a glare as he wiped your spit off of his face with his sleeve.
“Open your goddamn mouth,” he ordered.
Your response was to clench your jaw shut while you glared at him.
By that point, Morel clearly had enough.
Taking both hands to your face, Morel's fingers forced their way into your lips as he pried your jaw open. His tie was forced inside in a similar manner, even when you tried to push it out with your tongue or when you bit at his teeth. Nothing you did slowed him down.
A few moments after that, he was securing a knot at the back of your head, leaving your mouth unable to close as the tie had been used to gag you.
You were still struggling to escape and Morel was still radiating rage as he stood to his full height, glowering down at you from above.
“I love you a lot. I really do,” he spoke, “but I have my limits, and today, you've pushed well past them.
The soldier stepped forward, holding out the belt for him while their gaze never left your form. Taking the belt without looking, Morel silently wrapped the end with the buckle around his right hand, holding it tightly with his fist once he was finished. With that, he looked back to you.
“I want you to know that I'm not going to take any sort of pleasure in this,” he told you, “but you haven't left me any choice. You've made it clear that if I want you to learn anything from this, then I need to go to the extreme.”
Your heart began to pound in your chest as he approached the bed once more, this time standing in front of your exposed backside. He…. He wasn't going to….. Was he?
When he pulled the belt taut with both hands, tears began to well up in your eyes as you shook your head at him while your pleas were muffled by the tie in your mouth.
Morel gave you one last look before he spoke again.
“You made me do this.”
And with that, he pulled his arm back and brought the belt down on your ass.
The first time, you didn't scream. In fact, it felt as though you fainted for a brief moment as your mind went blank from the pain and all that came out of your mouth was a brief gasp as it felt as though the air was being forced out of you.
It was when he brought the belt down a second time that you screamed into the gag.
Tears filled your vision and your entire body reacted as your limbs once again fought at the bindings, and when that didn't work, you found yourself trying to press into the mattress in a desperate effort to escape the way the belt struck your sensitive flesh over and over again. It didn't matter that Morel and his creation were right there and would never allow you to step foot off of the bed – you weren't thinking logically. You just needed to get away.
But despite your best efforts, the bindings remained strong while you remained helpless.
The belt came down again.
The searing pain that ripped through you caused the veins in your forehead to bulge out as you cried out, your voice quickly becoming hoarse from how hard you were screaming. Sweat was beading up on your forehead as well while adrenaline was pumping through you, only adding to your efforts to escape from him.
It was just as useless as it had been every other time you tried to break free; there was no sign of the bindings loosening even slightly.
A pattern was beginning to emerge as he brought the belt down once more.
And then again.
And again.
And again.
The areas on your ass and upper thighs were soon all aching, every inch suffering from the force of his hits. With no more free skin to mark up, Morel began to hit you in the spots that had already been attacked.
The pain in those areas became worse the second time around.
You had long since lost count of how many times he'd hit you. You were only able to note when you felt your skin beginning to tear and you felt something liquid and warm dripping down from both your sides and the apex of your thighs.
You were bleeding, you realized. He was hitting you so hard that you were bleeding.
And he didn't care, as you felt the leather come back down on your aching skin and cause the pain to bloom in your body yet again.
Morel continued in a steady rhythm; he would hit you, pull back, wait a few seconds and then bring the belt back down.
Again and again.
Over and over.
No end in sight.
The sound of the belt moving through the air was seared into your brain. As was the sound it made when it came into contact with your flesh. The same could be said for Morel's determined grunts as he made sure not to go easy on you. Those sounds would likely stay in your mind forever and visit you with every nightmare.
And as for the pain……
All you could do was hope the memory of that would fade with time.
You were conscious for far too long. At a certain point you weren't really able to think. All you knew was the cycle of pain Morel was putting you through as the thick leather continued to come down on your damaged skin, making your wounds even worse in the process. You managed to be vaguely aware of the blood that decorated the sheets beneath and around your pelvis, just as you were vaguely aware of the spatters of blood that had managed to get onto the ceiling above you, flying off of the belt from the momentum of Morel's swings.
After enduring all of that for however long it truly lasted, it was a mercy when you finally passed out.
When you awoke, it was to a stinging sensation as something was being lathered on your rear. While not as bad as the pain you had gone through at Morel's hands, it was enough to wake you up, making you struggle again against the bindings you had fought so desperately against during the lashing. You were simply reacting again, the not-logical part of your brain trying to get away from what it knew to be a bad situation.
A cold hand came down to smack you on your injured flesh, causing you to shout in pain once again.
That woke you fully.
A glance over your shoulder revealed it to be the soldier that had hit you. They stared at you for a moment, as if warning you against fighting any further. When they were satisfied that you wouldn't, it went back to what it had been doing: tending to your wounds.
You strained your neck to see just how that part of you looked.
That was a mistake.
The skin of your ass and the upper parts of your thighs were covered both with bruises and bloody open wounds that stretched across your skin, some of which looked deep enough that you feared there would be permanent scarring. It would definitely be a long time before you would be able to sit down comfortably.
The sight caused the tears to well up in your eyes once again, and now without the gag in place to muffle your cries, you openly sobbed into the surface of the pillow. Your throat hurt, but you couldn't help it – what had happened to you was monstrous.
And Morel didn't care.
He had done all of that to you without remorse. He'd had the nerve to blame you for it before he'd gone through with the barbaric act, all because he wanted to teach you a fucked-up lesson.
In the midst of your sobbing, you glanced over your shoulder again, this time to glare at the soldier.
“I'll never forgive you,” you choked out between your scratchy sobs.
The soldier paused in their actions, turning their blank gaze over to you once again.
Morel was listening in. He needed to be.
“I'll never forgive you,” you repeated.
There was no verbal response from the soldier.
Instead, they spread more of the disinfectant that caused you to wake up, once again without an ounce of care, and your cries of pain echoed against the walls for what must have been the hundredth time that day.
The feeling that had been behind your fierce deceleration felt as though it was wavering. Whether or not your resolve had faltered too soon or too late was impossible to tell, as you couldn't tell just how long you had remained in your current state.
In the days following your horrible ordeal, you had been left with your limbs still tied to the bed. Every day of every hour, those bindings remained wrapped tight around your wrists and ankles, keeping you attached firmly without even the slightest bit of wiggle room, your arms and legs permanently stretched out. The only reprieve you got from that was when the soldier would allow you to use the bathroom, and at the beginning, it felt more like a punishment at first. As you had expected, sitting down was painful, and there were several times you returned to the bedroom a crying mess.
Every ounce of pain that ran through you only reminded you of what you had been through – what Morel had done to you.
At first, the anger from that brutal act only strengthened your resolve. How could he do this to you? How could he do such things and still claim to love you? He was a monster. You spat that out a few times, both at his creation and at him during the times he entered the bedroom. Morel ignored you and the soldier remained ever silent. When your words didn't draw any reaction, you went silent as well and kept your gaze averted whenever Morel entered the room for a fresh change of clothes. If he was going to ignore you, you could do the same.
You even told yourself that you were happy that he wasn't touching you, that it was better this way. For once, you were free from his incessant touch, his demanding need for you to give him the sweet kisses and the soft embraces that you had come to know that he craved from you. While his presence in the form of the soldier was still overwhelming, you told yourself that you had won if just for that fact alone.
At first all of it was easy.
As if the fact that he had kidnapped you wasn't enough, the pain that started in your backside that ran through you every time you sat down and the humiliation that came with every day you woke up tied to the bed reminded you of why you could never forgive him.
He was a monster and a brute who had done so many awful things to you that you felt there wasn't a good enough punishment for him to go through in order to make up what he'd put you through.
You would never forgive him.
But after what must have been weeks with nothing to do but listen to your own thoughts while you stayed firmly attached to the bed and listened to the endless creaking of the boat as it rocked back and forth, you found that it was harder to hold onto that rage.
And part of you felt pathetic for that fact.
There was only so much to focus on in that small area, only so much you could do while you were tied down. You weren't even allowed to feed yourself as the soldier was the one to do that, feeding you like you were an animal, and there was nothing you could do about it. If you tried to fight, they would take the meal away, a clear sign that told you if you wouldn't behave, then you wouldn't eat. After going several days with only being offered water, your desire to act up during mealtimes died down so as to ease the growing ache in your empty stomach.
Even then, the meals that were being offered were meager, but they were all you were allowed to have. That, combined with the little bits of movement you were allowed every day which caused your muscles to weaken, had your strength ebbing away bit by bit while your mind was having a hard time coping with the isolation and the minimal stimulation your brain was getting from the stagnant environment.
Your thoughts became less angry and more dismal. At first you were consumed by memories of your life before all of this, of what things had been like before Morel had torn you away from everything you knew. A life with family, friends, a dating life that could've been better and a job that you had really grown to enjoy, even if there was that one coworker who had a bad habit of oversharing everything. It wasn't perfect, but it was good, and it was mostly all you wanted.
And even if things could've been better, Morel didn't have any right to take you away from that.
Those times with your loved ones felt like a million years ago now, and more than once you found yourself crying tears of rage over how all of that was lost. All because of Morel's selfishness.
Thoughts like those had your resolve strengthening somewhat, and yet, it didn't feel like it lasted long. You were just so tired. You couldn't tell how many days had passed since all of this had started, even with your best efforts to try and count the meals you had gotten or the times that Morel entered the room.
He must have been sleeping on the couch in the main area of the boat, you thought to yourself.
What was the point in that?
Why wasn't he all over you? Why hadn't he nursed you back to health himself?
What was his endgame?
….. Was he tired of you?
“Are you going to kill me?” you asked him one day, your voice croaking out the question due to how little you had spoken.
Morel again ignored you, and nothing in his actions indicated that he was in any way affected by your question. His ever present soldier remained where they were, and there wasn't any change in their treatment of you after you asked that.
It should have angered you. That after having the audacity to kidnap you, he would then pretend as though you didn't exist.
But by the time you asked that question, you felt weak in both body and spirit as the true toll of the situation had begun to hit you fully.
It wasn't right.
Nothing about this was right.
But things were nicer when Morel was happy with you.
Even if it had all been driven by his own selfishness, having him hold you was better than the bindings that held you down. Having him regale you with stories of his adventures on the seas was nicer than the way he wouldn't even look at you.
And the feeling of his lips on yours was a better feeling than his belt hitting your ass repeatedly until you were bleeding.
As what must have been weeks slowly but surely passed, you found yourself wishing to go back to before the night of your escape. Back when things were good between you and your kidnapper. Back when he treated you softly and held you close in a way that felt secure.
That's stupid. He kidnapped you, you told yourself. You really think anything about that was good?
But another part of you didn't care. Things had been better before you escaped, and you didn't want this existence anymore.
You wanted to take it all back.
Your resolve to not forgive or speak to him broke soon after that, and for the first time in a long while, you tried to make conversation for the sake of your own sanity. You offered up apologies in between pleas for him to say something to you.
Morel didn't acknowledge your request.
Morel didn't acknowledge you at all.
That night you broke down sobbing as you feared that nothing about this could ever be fixed and that your current state was going to be the rest of your life.
Standing in the corner, the soldier watched you impassively.
Sometime later, there was a change in the awful routine you'd been forced into.
That evening, Morel came into the bedroom as he always did, and you anticipated that he would grab his nighttime clothes and immediately head back out without sparing you a second glance, as was typical.
Morel didn't do that, however.
Instead you were caught off-guard when he approached you, standing at the spot at the top of the bed and reaching out to grab at the bindings. He was untying them, you quickly realized. Your eyes widened as his calloused fingers undid the bindings around one wrist, loosening it until he was able to slip your hand out of the fabric before he turned his attention to the other.
What was happening?
Your heart pounded in your chest as you laid there silently, unwilling to do anything without his explicit permission for fear of Morel changing his mind and tying you back up again. When he had finished with your wrists and walked down to undo your ankles, you remained where you were, not even daring to push yourself up to look at him.
He would tell you when to move.
Which he did, though not verbally. Once he had finished freeing you completely, the Sea Hunter grabbed you by your arm and hauled you up to your feet, and without giving you even a second to recover from the way you had abruptly changed positions, Morel began to drag you out of the bedroom.
You had no choice but to comply, following behind him on unsteady feet while you tried not to bump into either him, the doorway or the walls. With one last glance back you saw the soldier following behind you, their eyes trained on you as always.
Once more you asked yourself what was happening, but you were still unwilling to ask that question aloud.
Morel pulled you into the main area of the boat, a room that you hadn't been in since the night you escaped. Your eyes went to the part of the kitchen, finding the exact spot where you had been standing when you had tampered with the juice you had given him. Where you had, in his mind, betrayed him to the worst degree.
Upon reliving that memory, you felt a pain in your rear. The marks from the way he had beaten you came alive on your skin. It was probably just stress pain, as your wounds had long since healed up. But that didn't make the ache lessen in any way. Nor did your nerves calm down as Morel dragged you towards the couch.
After he had settled down, Morel pulled you onto his lap after, his hands holding onto your hips while he stared at you. He still wasn't saying anything, so you followed his lead and remained silent as you stared back nervously. Feeling awkward, you ended up using your hands to steady yourself on his shoulders.
He remained silent.
The smoke soldier remained as a constant presence at the doorway.
And you remained tense, your muscles coiled up as you waited for something to happen. But you could only wait for Morel to say or do something.
Because something was going to happen; you were sure of it. Whether it would be good or bad for you remained to be seen.
You kept your hands on his shoulders, your fingers clenching and unclenching at the fabric of his shirt while you waited for him to speak to you, to explain what was going on. Maybe things would go back to normal? After everything you'd been through now, you wanted to go back to the way it was before you had run. Because even if you hated being his captive, even if he still used you how he wanted with little regard for your own feelings, at least there was a semblance of love to be found. Morel was gentle with you, he was kind to you. He went out of his way to do things for you that he thought you would like, would surprise you with little gifts that he felt suited you, or he'd cook you meals that he knew were your favorites.
That version of Morel, the one that doted on you and held you softly, was nowhere to be found. Instead, the man whose lap you were sitting on only continued to stare at you coldly, his mouth still set in a frown and and his eyes watching you from behind his sunglasses.
You didn't want to speak. Doing that felt like a bad idea, like all you would do was earn another round of punishment for yourself if you dared to do or say anything without his express permission. Waiting for his command was the smarter option, the safer option.
So you sat, still staring at him with uncertainty while you were unable to help the way you squirmed beneath his gaze.
Then Morel once again broke the silence, not with words but with action, as he moved his hands away from your hips, leaving you to hold yourself up on your own as he began to undo the buckle of his belt.
Seeing that had your heart rate increase on seeing that.
Was he going to hurt you again? Why? Had you done something else wrong? Or was this simply a continuation of your punishment?
Every part of you wanted to run and barricade yourself in the bedroom, but you made yourself stay still as you stared on helplessly. Running would only make it worse, you told yourself. Just stay still.
Even when he pulled the belt out of the loops of his pants and gripped it in one hand, you forced yourself to stay where you were.
Still remaining silent, Morel placed the belt next to him on the couch as he reached down for the button and zipper of his pants, the sound of the zipper teeth pulling open echoing loudly in your head.
You made yourself sit there, even when he shoved his pants and boxers down in order to pull out his semi-hard length.
Then, for the first time in a long, long time, Morel spoke to you.
“Touch it,” he ordered.
“……”
Somehow it hadn't been obvious when he was undoing his pants of what he wanted. Even though you were staring at him the entire time, your mind hadn't truly been taking in what was happening. As such, you found yourself shocked at the order, and you couldn't help but open your mouth as you began to form a question.
“T-touch-?”
“Did I say you could speak?”
You snapped your mouth shut, fearful of angering him. Again.
Morel stared down at you through the lens' of his sunglasses, waiting impatiently for you to do as he had told you while also having no concern for your distress that was once more slowly building as you remained still on top of his lap.
“I'm not going to repeat myself,” Morel told you.
His words brought you out of your stupor. If you didn't do what he wanted, he'd give you back to the soldier and make them tie you up to that bed, wouldn't he? You would only see him in passing and all you would have was the creature made up from his abilities. Always by your side. Always impersonal, never offering any sort of kind or loving touch.
Letting out a shuddering breath, you pulled one of your hands off of his shoulders and placed it on his cock, wrapping your fingers around his length. Then you began to stroke him.
The interior of the boat was quiet as you ran your palm up and down his dick, and the air around you felt stuffy. Dense. Like you were slowly being suffocated. You took in a big gulp of air as you increased your pace, trying your best to put your all into pleasing him despite how tired your muscles felt already.
Maybe he would appreciate that.
Maybe this could be the first step in him forgiving you.
You don't need forgiveness from him. He kidnapped you.
Shaking those thoughts away, you continued, watching as his cock hardened until it stood erect in your palm, a bead of precum sitting at the tip as you worked him over, bringing your other hand down in order to use both on him.
You must be doing something right, otherwise he wouldn't be aroused like this. Even if the setting still felt suffocating to you and not arousing in the slightest. The air still felt heavy and grim.
Maybe he likes seeing you at his mercy.
…… You didn't like that thought, and you again banished it from your mind as you continued, determined to keep your focus solely on pleasing him. All the while Morel sat there with his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at you.
It sure didn't feel like he was enjoying this. It felt like he was still pissed off at you.
Just don't hurt me again, you begged silently. You can lock me back up, but don't hurt me anymore.
By that point your hands were becoming slick as you kept rubbing them up and down Morel's length. His precum was dripping down from the tip of his cock, and the stickiness was getting in the areas between your fingers as you rubbed him harder. You focused your touch on the veins that ran along his cock, areas that you remembered were sensitive, areas that you hoped were having the same effect on him.
But it was impossible to tell with the way he kept staring at you.
“Stop.”
Your hands stilled as soon as he spoke, and you stared up at him nervously,
“How wet are you?” he demanded to know.
You blinked.
“Um…..”
You didn't want to answer, because you didn't feel aroused at all and you felt worried that he'd be upset by that.
It turned out that you didn't need to answer as he sighed, saying “I should've figured.”
He sounded annoyed.
Feeling compelled to apologize, you opened your mouth to do just that, but you stopped, remembering how he didn't like it when you tried to speak earlier. So your shut your mouth yet again as you waited for him to speak once more.
“Whatever. You'll ride me anyway.”
Then Morel's hands were on your hips again, and he hoisted you up so you were on your knees above his length. He then readjusted his grip so he was holding onto the globes of your ass while the tip of his cock brushed against your pussy lips.
And then he held you there, waiting for you to sink down onto him, regardless of whether you were ready for him or not.
I don't want this, you thought to yourself as you stared down between your legs, at the cock that you didn't feel prepared for.
I don't want this at all.
Morel's fingers gripped tighter on your ass and this time, the pain that ran through you wasn't an echo of what he had done to you that night when he caught you.
What you wanted didn't matter right now.
So you squeezed your eyes shut as you lowered yourself down.
It hurt.
The stretch felt like too much and you wanted to pull off of him, but you forced yourself to go down further and further. Tears were now pricking at the edges of your eyes and your knuckles had paled from how hard you were gripping at his shirt, but you didn't stop or pull away even when your senses were screaming at you to do so.
At least it's not as bad as the belt.
Thinking that helped a little bit.
You were able to sink down to about the middle of his cock when you paused, taking in a deep breath before you began to pull upward, waiting until his head was all that was inside of you and then sinking back down again. Morel didn't make any indication that he objected, so he must have been pleased.
Except he still didn't show any signs that he was enjoying this.
He still seemed angry.
So you continued with uncertainty, still feeling fearful even as the stretch became more comfortable and you were able to take in more of him until you were able to hilt him inside of you fully. Even when you were able to move faster as you bounced on top of him, nothing about it felt like things between the two of you were mending.
And evidently what you were doing wasn't enough, because Morel took it upon himself to force you to go faster.
Grabbing you by your hips, the Sea Hunter began to move you, plunging you up and down on his length at a pace that you weren't capable of in your current weak state. The room was soon filled with the sounds of your bare thighs hitting his legs while you let out pained groans and sudden shrieks whenever he handled you a bit too roughly, and all you could do was hold onto him for dear life.
Morel wouldn't have done that before.
He had always been attuned to your discomfort, being able to sense when something was wrong and stopping before you would get the chance to tell him to. He'd even agreed to you saying 'no' to certain acts when you cited that they made you uncomfortable. And even when he was lost in a haze of lust, he was never so lost that he continued to seek his pleasure without thinking of you and his desire to make you happy.
You hadn't thought of it before. You had been too focused on using sex to get him to lower his guard to realize how nice he was being to you. The man was so sweet and caring; he probably could've had any girl he wanted, and he picked you.
And how had you repaid him?
And could things ever go back to normal?
“I'm sorry.”
You breathed out those words, and immediately, Morel came to a stop, his hands still gripping your hips hard and his cock still buried in your cunt. You felt their gazes on you, of both himself and the smoke soldier that had stayed in the doorway. Tears began to run down your cheeks as you began to sob out more apologies, your voice becoming more and more choked with every syllable you forced out.
“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”
You couldn't tell how your many apologies were being received – even if your vision wasn't blurry with tears, you couldn't bring yourself to look at him. For some reason, you felt ashamed, and it was all you could do to keep yourself upright while you forced more apologies to fall from your mouth.
“I'm sorry.”
The boat creaked as it moved against the waves.
“I'm sorry.”
The soldier's gaze remained ever present on your back.
“I'm sorry.”
Morel still said nothing while you sobbed on top of him.
The next apology of yours caught in your throat, and though you were unable to speak, you clenched your fingers tighter on his shirt, hoping that he would still understand what you wanted to say, how remorseful you truly were over your actions.
If we could just go back to the way things were, I'd be fine.
You weren't able to process how wrong that thought of yours was.
Because Morel chose then to respond.
Lifting one large hand to cup your cheek gently, Morel moved your head up so you were looking at him. And with a gentleness that you hadn't felt since the night you ran away, he brushed away the tears on your cheek as he murmured to you softly.
“Shh. Don't cry,” he said to you.
That just made your tears flow harder, and you couldn't help but grab at the hand on your cheek with your own, pressing his palm against your skin in the hopes that he wouldn't pull away. Not that you would be able to stop him if he really wanted to let go, but your desperation for his soft, gentle touch drove you to try anyway.
You felt elation when Morel not only chose not to pull away, but went and wrapped his other arm around you as he pulled you in, holding you close to his chest. Immediately, you wrapped your arms around him in response, nuzzling your face against him. When was the last time he had held you like this? The night of your escape? Regardless, it felt like it had been years since the last time this had happened, and you didn't want to let him go.
Morel sighed as he buried his face in your hair.
“I'm really happy to hear you say that. I was worried you would never come around,” he said softly, “I don't know what I would do if you stayed that way. If you still couldn't see things from my point of view.”
Morel moved his hand to the back of your head in order to stroke your hair as he continued “it's been a tough few weeks, and I know I wasn't good to you during that time, but it was necessary. You get that, right?”
You nodded.
Morel let out a sigh of relief as he said “that's good. I'm glad you understand.”
His other hand began to run up and down your back as he said “and I hope you'll also understand why we can't immediately go back to the way things were. I'll need to keep you on a bit of a leash for a while. That means you can only go topside when I say so, and I'm going to keep using my ability to watch over you.”
“But it won't be forever,” he added, “just until we've rebuilt the bridge between us completely. Understand?”
You nodded again as you let out a soft “I understand.”
He sniffled when you said that, which caught you off-guard.
When you pulled your head back up to look at him, you were surprised by what you saw:
He was crying.
Moments ago he'd been glaring at you; he hadn't allowed for any other emotion other than anger. But now…… Now tears were streaming down his face as he looked at you with an expression of sheer relief.
“Good. That's good, sweetheart,” he said, leaning down to place a kiss on your head. He then held you tightly, his tears landing in your hair as he declared “these last few weeks have been hell for both of us, but we're going to come out of it stronger, I know it.”
You hummed in agreement as you nodded, reciprocating his embrace as you held him back.
This isn't right, a small voice at the back of your head protested. How could things have been hell for him? How could he hurt you over and over and say that he was affected negatively by it? How could he have the gall to make it seem as though he had also suffered?
Shut up, you told yourself. Just shut up and stay quiet. He wants to love you now, so take it.
The alternative is being tied to the bed.
You held him tighter, your shoulders trembling slightly from the warring emotions within yourself.
Morel noticed as he asked “what's wrong?”
You shook your head.
“I just missed this,” you answered softly.
On hearing that, a soft smile graced Morel's face.
“I did too,” he admitted, taking a brief moment to wipe at his tears with his sleeve.
When he then moved your chin up in order to pull you in for a kiss, you didn't protest.
The smoke creation of his that had been a constant presence dissipated as Morel began to readjust you, slowly moving you so you were laying back on the couch, his cock buried in you the whole time as he took his place above you. He pulled away from your lips in favor of covering your neck with kisses as he gently caressed your sides with soft strokes that soothed you. Your hands came up to grasp at his shirt again, to which he chuckled.
Taking one of your hands into his, he kissed your fingers before asking “are you ready?”
You nodded.
Morel began to thrust into you once more. This time, his movements were softer, not as forceful as moments ago when he had been taking what he wanted from you. The stark contrast to the change forced a sob to escape your throat, to which Morel shushed you gently as he wiped away the remainder of your tears.
Then he pulled away and pressed his face into the crook of your neck, sighing contentedly.
“Welcome home,” Morel whispered.
A commission I was allowed to post! I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you all enjoy reading it :D
WARNINGS: Yandere! Chrollo, PT member! reader, female! reader, explicit nsfw, casual sex, mentions of explicit violence, mentions of murder, mentions of character death, reader is kinda immoral but that comes with the pt territory, dubious consent
"You have bad taste, you know that?" You said, lying on your side, tired eyes slowly moving over every choice that had gone into the design of the bedroom. At first glance, you would've called the excess of gold and silver gaudy, but then there was that minimalist abstract painting in the corner, or the classical bedside table made out of gray marble, and you decided even that descriptor wasn't fully applicable. The maximalism of a rich hoarder, was the only term that felt somewhat correct. "None of these pieces work together."
Chrollo smiled as he looked up from his book, participating in your critique of his interior design skills. "I'd call it the curse of having many interests. If you ask me, committing to a single style or type of art when there is so much variety in the world is as much a sign of bad taste as you consider this to be."
"The art nouveau brutalist bathroom is an abomination, Chrollo."
"Or so you continue to remind me. Would you rather I hang the Klimt with the byzantine sculptures?"
"No. I'd rather you throw those away. Or sell them." You sat upright and pulled the sheets off your body, sitting on the edge of the bed so you could stretch properly, your fingers tapping against the side of the mattress while you thought of what you were going to do next. Shower or get dressed and leave?. "Such a waste letting them get water damage."
"Stop suggesting we have sex in the bathtub then."
"No." Something about the clumsiness of sex in bathrooms had always appealed to you, and if you liked seeing Chrollo with his hair wet while he was bent over you, who’d judge you? "I don't think I will."
"I figured."
You stretched your arms over your head, feeling a delightful pull on your sore muscles. You’d slept badly, you always slept too lightly when other people were around, but the calm and laziness of the morning made the slight exhaustion lingering on your body feel less bothersome. There was nothing on the agenda today, so you could truly just go your own way. Perhaps you’d train a bit later in the evening, or visit a botanical garden if the weather was nice. Visiting gardens was always your go-to activity on lazy days, since you always felt truly at ease feeling your nen curl around so many different specimens, all responding to your commands. Controlling flora was a tricky ability, especially in less habitable areas like the dusty deserts surrounding Yorknew, so to be in a location where nothing would ever be able to truly harm you was comforting. You didn’t know whether that comfort came from the security or the control.
At the thought of your ability, you wondered when you’d use it next. The last time had ended a bit anticlimactically. You’d wrapped nettles around a man’s throat, only for him to suffocate and die in mere minutes, apparently allergic to the plant. You’d gotten in a bit of trouble, since he’d been meant to give information, but luckily his colleague knew enough to save your hide. When you’d started to master your own ability, you’d never considered allergies being relevant so often.
You lowered your arms and rolled your shoulders, looking back at Chrollo who was smiling ever so slightly. “So when’s the next heist? Or are you leaving to find new members first?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You are under the impression that killing Hisoka has no priority?”
Ah. You should’ve figured.
“Didn’t want to assume. Aren’t you supposed to be quite strict with the ‘no leg matters, just the spider’ philosophy?” You suppressed a smile at the mention of Hisoka, knowing any sign of affection, as small as it was, wouldn’t be appreciated. You didn’t particularly care about Shalnark and Kortopi, only having worked with them in passing for a few years, so it wasn’t like you felt betrayed by the magicians actions. If anything, you’d found Chrollo’s continual leniency on the magician’s schemes to be surprising, and retrospectively quite an obvious mistake. “Well. With eight or so members it’ll surely work out fine.”
It would. You’d only seen a handful of them in combat, but if they managed to corner Hisoka, he was dead, an opinion that was supported by the fact that Hisoka was already supposed to be dead, having lost to Chrollo in the arena.
You’d watched the show on television, a bit disappointed when it had stopped being broadcast due to the deaths of most of the camera staff. Either that, or the producers had chosen not to show such a massacre, as exciting as it had been. Even with gyo constantly activated, you had barely been able to keep up with the quick movements and techniques displayed, which had definitely increased your respect for Chrollo, the trust and belief the rest of the spider had in him definitely not unfounded.
You’d asked Hisoka in private shortly after his quasi-death and expulsion of the spider how he intended to fight them all off, certainly in close quarters, but he’d just kept it vague and acted indignified at your lack of belief in his capabilities. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe him to be capable of somehow pulling off something most would deem impossible, but rather that you really wished to know how he was planning to do so. A mystery is only as compelling as the explanation that is served, and you were left only with curiosity and impatience.
Still, you’d decided a while ago that you would bet on Hisoka. The odds were high that he intended to kill you along with the rest of the spiders if he ever got the chance, but you doubted he’d chase after you if you made yourself scarce before anything big could happen. The parts of the plan he’d clued you in on were compelling enough to bet on, since even if Hisoka failed miserably, you still had enough time to work out a second plan of your own.
"Just to sate my curiosity on the matter." Chrollo asked, looking over the edge of his book as you grabbed a short satin dress you’d worn yesterday night that had been discarded next to the bed. Pulling it over your head, you were relieved to not fully be naked anymore, not out of a sense of decency or prudishness, but because Chrollo’s stare tended to be a bit too appreciative for your liking. "Are you two close?"
You didn’t need to ask for clarification.
Truly, you liked Hisoka. He was an interesting figure and so upfront with his betrayals that you wondered how he still managed to fool anyone into trusting him. His style, his humor, his fighting style. It was all so uniquely him and yet at the same time so inhumanly distant that you had trouble seeing him as an actual person. Instead, he felt more like a character you could enjoy watching, and you would be lying if it hadn’t flattered you that he’d enjoyed watching you too.
"We're not intimate, if that's what you're asking." This was edging a bit too close to a discussion on your relationship with him for your liking. Chrollo, ever the achiever, didn't bore you with such things usually. Instead, he'd either lure you into some quasi-intellectual debate or just leave you be. Your favorite ending to one of these meetings had been when he'd expressed interest in some blockbuster that was airing, and you'd surprised yourself into inviting him to come and watch it with you. The movie theater experience, complete with popcorn and a soda, had been fun in a domestic way you'd not experienced in a while. Ranting about the bad quality of the film was also a fond memory, though you were not the type to grow attached to domestic activities. "Didn't think you were the jealous type."
"I wouldn't call it jealousy." He said earnestly, chuckling when he saw the disbelieving tilt of your head. "If anything, I'm trying to see whether you've betrayed the spider too."
You forced your eyebrows to lift in surprise. "Oh. I'd never. How little faith do you have in me?"
Whatever playful tone you’d placed in your words, it seemed to be the wrong choice, as you were pulled back into bed by your hair. The casual atmosphere had ended, and the pretense of this just being a chat was broken. His fingers curled around locks of your hair, pulling at your scalp, and the book was discarded somewhere on the bed.
You let it happen, finding the sting of his grip on your hair more comfortable than this conversation, especially since it ended up with your barely covered upper body sprawled over his lap. He looked down at you, and if he spotted your gratitude at this turn of events, he did not show it. Instead, he actually seemed angry, his entire face frozen on a blank slate. If he could not even find the state of mind to force a neutral expression, you’d definitely crossed a line.
Luckily, he acknowledged his own anger too, which saved you from having to navigate what exactly he was taking offense to.
"You've chosen a bit of an unfortunate moment to joke with me. Safe to say, I wouldn't call myself completely stable at the moment." It was at times like this that you truly appreciated his features, his face and body made to be cast in marble. Bloodlust only enhanced the image, washing off the false domestic and normal air that he clothed himself in to blend in. "It'll pass, but for now I'd urge you to give me a serious response."
That made sense in retrospect. Last night he’d been quite a bit more rough than he usually was. His hand had found your throat on many occasions, and while you did not mind being manhandled a bit, the force with which he sucked hickeys into your neck and the pressure of his arms around your waist had proven a bit intense at times. You’d just explained it away as a mood, but this made quite a bit more sense.
"How about this, I’ll give you a quick rundown of everything I know: I haven't spoken with him ever since that entire mess with Shal and Kortopi," His hand tightened around your hair, and you figured he didn’t like you minimizing the events that had occurred, but to be fair, he would’ve been more suspicious had you acted all respectful to his dead friends. "But he did tell me something beforehand which I think you might find interesting."
His expression did not change, but Chrollo did seem a bit irritated that you were playing coy. "Well?"
"The boat led by the Kakin Empire heading towards the dark continent. Apparently there will be some kind of contest held on board during the trip, and Hisoka seemed quite interested in it. If I had to guess, he's going to be there, trying his best to make the entire affair about twenty percent more complicated."
If you felt any regret having spoken those words, you didn’t feel it yet, though you kept the possibility open that you’d feel a bit bad about it later. If only, if only.
The seed had been planted. Chrollo probably had an inkling that you telling him this was intended by Hisoka, but that didn’t really matter. Hisoka wanted a fight, so it’d be out of character for him to suggest a fighting stage and not show up. The spiders would crawl on board, head toward the dark continent, a place so dangerous every expedition you’d heard of had stellar mortality rates, and hopefully they’d never return.
On the day of the departure, you’d stay behind. You liked excitement and part of you wanted to explore the dark continent and its mysteries as much as any other, but it’d be certain death for you if you went. There were too many things left to experience on this planet, and dying at the hands of either Chrollo or Hisoka left a bad taste in your mouth.
They were both dear to you, but you really hoped they’d kill each other and sink the boat.
"A hobby you two seem to share."
"As if you don't." You lightly admonished, smiling as his fingers were still pulling at strands of your hair, his eyes murderously intense as he stared down at you. "Well, are you going to kill me or am I free to go?"
"You seem to be misunderstanding something." He grabbed your face and made you face the wall, a multitude of painted faces in varying degrees of realism staring back at you. "Whatever I don't get rid of, I collect. And since I am quite fond of you, even if I deem your betrayal to go too far, I won't kill you. Instead, I'll pin you to these walls like those paintings you seem to hate so much and enjoy the sight of you until I feel ready to throw you away. Act with that in mind."
You suppressed a sigh and realized you'd been right in your assessment of where this was headed. A shame, even if it was way too late for you to take back your countermeasures anyway. "Chrollo, do you hear yourself speak right now?"
"I do. I know what I sound like." He sighed and let go of your face. When you slowly remade eye contact with him, he was looking quite pensive before he bent forward, closing the gap between you and him. For a second you hoped that he'd kiss you, just to cut this conversation short. You knew what was at the end of that road, while this was inching further and further into uncomfortable territory. “Don’t act like this is coming out of nowhere. I think you’re quite aware of the effect you have on me. I myself find it quite interesting at times, and in all honesty, it would be much easier to see exactly what you’re made of if I keep you a bit incapacitated.”
"That sounds quite scary." You said, less sarcastically than you'd intended, the sincerity of his words sending a shiver down your spine. The slight quirk of his lips, the complete nonchalance with which he'd admitted to his plans for you if you betrayed him, all made you believe that he was not kidding in the slightest. You'd always known it was a bit risky sleeping with the head of the spiders, but that danger had been part of the enjoyment. What fun was there in hooking up if there wasn't a risk of death involved? "I wasn't aware you felt about me like that."
"You have your moments."
"I see."
Being proven right was a bitter victory in this case, as much as you wanted to pretend it didn’t bother you in the slightest. You and Chrollo had spent many a night like this, and a few months ago, you had been quite pleased with the set-up, your post-heist adrenaline and bloodlust always being channeled in the best way possible, but in that same period you’d felt something start to change.
During heists he rarely deployed you, something that was even beginning to be noticed even by other spiders. Your abilities were being questioned, and you’d even heard that little black-haired shit wonder whether you always slept your way to the top. Three members had to remind you of the rule not to fight other spiders, because otherwise you would’ve gouged out his eyeballs and thrown his guts to the dogs.
It was insulting, and the mere idea that Chrollo was in love with you was even worse.
It made you uncomfortable to see a man you had so much respect for debase himself in chasing you. He never did anything outwardly romantic, but he stared, and you could tell that any time you spent with him was intriguing him. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. He was supposed to be better than that. You couldn’t stand it when he sighed after kissing you or left books on the dinner table for you to take when you left.
He couldn’t betray the spider, not in such an awfully human way.
And so you’d decided one morning while waking up in his arms, his heartbeat thumping underneath your ear, that you’d prefer it if he died. Death would freeze the image you had of him, of the ruthless and constantly shifting leader of the Phantom Troupe. Death would freeze all of them, since after Uvogin and Pakunoda’s deaths you’d noticed more and more cracks in what used to be a perfect formula.
Feitan and Phinks, who used to go off on their own in between heists, now seemed bound to the hip, their cruelty and ruthlessness a mere façade for what even a blind person could see. Franklin called Shizuku every few hours, checking in on her location and how she was doing. Nobunaga had completely lost it, even if everyone pretended to not see it, and you weren’t someone who generally empathized with unknown faces, but the civilian woman he’d fixated on after the death of Uvo was clearly having to deal with a lot of delusional bullshit.
The changes spread gradually, but the spider was not what it used to be. Most of the members had grown up together and preferred not losing one another, the recent deaths of those close to them proving they were not as okay with being replaceable as they’d pretended to be all this time. None of them would ever utter such a thing, but you noticed it regardless.
Being annihilated on the way to the dark continent, or at their destination, would be the best way for the spider. All in order to hold onto its principles. In some way, you felt like you were saving the man whose death you were planning, whose body had been pressed against yours so often. You’d never been the sentimental type, but the idea that you were saving a legacy from dying out painfully was beautiful to you. Chrollo wouldn’t ruin himself in your name. The others wouldn’t slip away into insanity and sentimentality.
Hisoka was the only one who knew how you felt, and had even agreed with your views, meaning he was the sole ally you had in this perspective. You’d spent years with the Troupe, and in some distant way, you loved the spider. Vaguely, you realized you’d accept it if Chrollo killed you now. Maybe he’d prove you wrong. Maybe he would get rid of your traitorous self, kill Hisoka and purge the spider of all that had desecrated it.
You would accept it gratefully.
Chrollo let go of your hair and his thumb traced a line across your forehead.
“Fine.” He breathed out.
“We’re leaving it at that?” You asked, cursing yourself for even responding, and even more for the desperation you felt at the loss of his aggression. Chrollo immediately moved, languidly shifting your body and his so you were below him once more, your legs on either side of his hips. He pushed his hair back and rubbed his eyes a bit before taking another good look at you. You couldn’t decipher his expression fully, but decided a mix of exhaustion and exasperation came closest.
“We’re not.” A hand moved under your waist and lifted up your lower body, slotting you against him. He bent forward over you and out of the corner of your eyes you saw him slowly wrap a hand around his cock and pump himself a few times. When he was sufficiently hard, he moved the hand with which he’d touched himself up to your mouth, two fingers patiently waiting on your lips to be licked. Knowing this song and dance, you opened your mouth, your tongue searching and finding his fingers instantly. Whilst you were sufficiently coating his fingers in spit, his dark eyes moved over your body. “We’ll be done once I say we’re done.”
The authoritative comment did little to turn you on, his possessive and romantically laced comments from earlier still making you feel weird. Still, when he pulled his fingers from your mouth and lowered them to your pussy to lubricate your entrance, the few flicks he performed against your clit did make your chest rise from the mattress a bit.
Pressing his forehead to yours, he quickly grabbed his cock and pushed it inside you, a satisfied sound leaving his throat as he successfully entered you. The pace he set was slow, gentle in a way that made you want to cry.
“Don’t betray me.” He said, and you felt your stomach turn at the pleading tone accompanying it. It was hard to enjoy the way he rolled his hips against yours, pushing his cock further into you, when your mind was miles away. How could you be present when all you wanted was to leave and forget he’d ever disappointed you like this. “I’ll do much worse than kill you if you do.”
That wasn’t a lie. He’d probably lock you up, steal your ability and hurt you until you didn’t have the strength to fight him anymore. Maybe he’d cut your legs off, maybe he’d bind you to a bed until malnutrition and muscle decay did the work for him. That part didn’t scare you, it was what he’d do after that that terrified you. He’d keep you with him, sleep next to you, and trace your injuries. He’d insist you read with him, watch movies with him, make love to him instead of the distant sex you preferred. He’d love you, earnestly and in his own way, and you’d rather die than experience it, since it would mean the man you loved was utterly gone.
“You know, don’t you?” He asked. “Please tell me you know.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, desperate for him to shut up.
2024 collection part one
January
Condescending boyfriend:
♡ HOPELESS
Yandere kidnapper is a sexual sadist:
♡ RIBBED CONDOMS
Yandere kidnapper throatfucks you after anal:
♡ ATM
Awful nasty incel:
♡ drabble
Boss uses his assistant whenever he wants and however he wants:
♡ BOSS
Yandere captor using you as his pretty rope-bunny:
♡ ROPE-BUNNY
Simpy boyfriend is unabashedly obsessed with your ass:
♡ ASS
JJK—Hunter Gojo traps Nymph reader in the woods:
♡ FORBIDDEN FRUIT
Ex-boyfriend kidnaps you:
♡ LOVE ME
Yandere captor staking claim to all your holes:
♡ STUFFED
JJK—Gojo x maid darling:
♡ drabble
Yandere captor has too much libido:
♡ REMINDER
Another day waking up next to your yandere captor:
♡ MORNING WOOD
JJK—Senpai Gojo teasing Kohai reader:
♡ TRUTH OR DARE
You break up with your fuckfriend, and he doesn't take it well:
♡ FUBU
Creep captor dresses you up like a doll and takes pictures of you:
♡ DOLL
JJK—Yandere Gojo with a reader who is immune to his techniques:
♡ FINITE
Yandere captor loves watching you cum:
♡ THAT SPECIAL PLACE
BNHA—Childhood friend Deku never stops crushing on you:
♡ WHAT ARE FRIENDS FOR?
You're a popular airhead, and he's your loser tutor:
♡ BLIND TRUST
JJK—Immature bully Gojo picks on reader:
♡ MILK
You become the spoiled prince's personal maid:
♡ FARM ANIMAL
Poly yandere captors make you cum for them:
♡ A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE
Yandere plays the good guy:
♡ GOOD GUY
Stepdaddy puts you in your place:
♡ BRAT
Businessman yandere comes home to his little trophy wife:
♡ STRESS BALL
JJK—Childhood friend Gojo doesn't want to share you with anyone:
♡ TOGETHER FOREVER
JJK—Boyfriend Suguru shares you with his best friend Satoru:
♡ FAVORITE PEOPLE
Poly wolfboys x bunny reader:
♡ BUNNYHOLES
Beast boyfriend x human reader:
♡ INSTINCTS
February
You try running away from your two poly yandere captors:
♡ ROPE OR BAT?
You're an older guy's pleasure pet:
♡ BEDTIME FEEDING
Omega reader tries running away from Alpha mate:
♡ SILLY LITTLE MATE
Jock bully asks you to tutor him:
♡ NERD
BNHA—Childhood friend Bakugou and you:
♡ NO ONE ELSE
JJK—Asylum patient Mahito x psychologist reader:
♡ EAT
Massive warrior claims you as his war prize:
♡ WAR PRIZE
Step-daddy puts you in your place:
♡ TRAINING
JJK—Bully Suguru is not like other bullies:
♡ BULLY
Snugglebug boyfriends who're just so clingy and hopeless:
♡ VIRGINAL
HAZBIN HOTEL—Adam is an entitled prick:
♡ GENESIS
JJK—Noaya falls for his favorite brothel whore:
♡ WHORE
Spending Valentine's Day with your incel kidnapper:
♡ HAPPY VALENTINES
Poly wolfboys x bunny reader:
♡ GROOMING
Delinquent childhood friend x reader:
♡ SUCKER
Businessman x trophy wife:
♡ TASTE OF MONEY
Rich boyfriend is condescending:
♡ SNOB
Pet collector buys bunny reader:
♡ BOUGHT & SOLD ♡ THE OTHER PETS
Sweet boyfriend won't stop talking about anal:
♡ SECOND VIRGINITY
March
Aromantic psychopathic yandere kidnaps you:
♡ NUISANCE
JJK—Okkotsu Yuta x mean girl curse:
♡ MEAN GIRL
Reader owes the mob:
♡ PROPERTY
DEATH NOTE—L is fascinated by you:
♡ PAPER SWANS
Your college roommate rubs you the wrong way:
♡ PERFECT STRANGERS
When the playboy finally falls in love:
♡ PLAYBOY
BNHA—You and Bakugou survive under a collapsed building together:
♡ SHARED TRAUMA
You let your bully fuck you in exchange for him leaving you alone:
♡ WORSE OFF
Boyfriend is embarrassed:
♡ POST NUT CLARITY
Ex-boyfriend wants you back so badly:
♡ UNFAIR
April
Ghost month! This month doesn't exist!
May
Rich husband owns everything you have:
♡ BARBIE
Ex-military yandere kidnaps you:
♡ EX-MILITARY YANDERE
Teacher teaches you a hard lesson:
♡ HARD LESSON
Your boyfriend is down bad, and it's threatening:
♡ BRUISER BOYFRIEND
Your toxic boyfriend is a little old-fashioned-minded:
♡ BENEVOLENT SEXIST
June
JJK—Sukuna adds virgin!nun!reader to his harem:
♡ UNHOLY
Breaking up with your bad boyfriend:
♡ BAD BREAKUP
BNHA boys as mythic creatures x darling:
♡ MYTHIC
JJK—God!Gojo x human sacrifice:
♡ DIRT POOR
Your childhood bully tracks you down:
♡ APOLOGETIC BULLY only avaliable on AO3 ♡ PART TWO
You make the big angry alpha blush:
♡ BIG ANGRY ALPHA
You were certain you were an Alpha, but as it turns out...
♡ TWIST OF FATE
Can two Betas do the work of one Alpha?
♡ TWO BETAS, ONE OMEGA
JJK—You stab Gojo. He kinda likes it:
♡ KNIFE
The old-fashioned boss with intern reader:
♡ NEW INTERN
JJK men as mythic creatures x darling:
♡ MYSTIC ♡ MYTHIC
You're not cheap, but you're worth it:
♡ FAVORITE WHORE
You open your heart to your fuck-friend:
♡ DAMAGED
Your Alpha Mate is so in love with you it's a little exhausting:
♡ LOVEY-DOVEY ALPHA
JJK—Gojo Senpai won't leave you alone:
♡ TAKE A HINT
JJK—Soft boyfriend Gojo headcanons:
♡ Boyfriend Gojo
♡ PART TWO COMING AFTER NEW YEAR'S EVE
Warnings: fem!reader, smut, abusive relationships, non con, jealousy, power imbalance, slapping, implied death, creepy Razor out in full swing
Word count: 6.7k
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