Curiosity, The Killer

Curiosity, the Killer

Mahito x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Synopsis: You went out tonight hoping to connect with a stranger. And technically, you did… after you got home. After he broke into your apartment and cornered you in the bathroom. Good luck getting rid of him - he’s not one to control his impulses. Especially when he’s feeling curious.

Tags: dark content, noncon, death threats, talk of murder, extreme possessiveness, general rough handling, biting, hair pulling, painful sex, creampie, mahito being a pervy lil pantie sniffer

Note: Might do a part two…my brain is rotting.

You slip through the front door of your apartment, kicking off your shoes the moment it shuts behind you. Tonight did not go as you’d hoped - although to be fair, you had an active imagination, and tended to set your hopes too high. In your mind, each time you went out was a potential first chapter to one of the guilty-pleasure novels you read (and sometimes, even attempted to write) in your spare time. A beautiful stranger would compliment your dress, offer to buy you a drink, dance with you where everyone could see, kiss you on the floor, take you home…

None of that had happened tonight. The closest you’d gotten was when a ridiculously drunk college student had thrust a shot of vodka in your face. You’d dodged, but you can still smell the splash of liquor that had landed on your dress.

You’d been with a crowd of friends - maybe that was the problem. None of them had been approached either, although a couple had left with guys they’d met on dating apps earlier this weekend. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe the idea of meeting someone in the real world had become a fantasy long ago. Maybe you were stupid to still believe in it.

In any case…the night is over. And with nothing to excite you, nothing to capture your imagination, sleep is beginning to take hold. You don’t let it catch you just yet - you make your way to the bathroom, and scrub at the makeup on your face until you’re back in your bare skin. The bathroom light flickers, and you make a mental note to change the bulb tomorrow. Not tonight - you’re too tired, and with your luck, it would probably end up shattered on the floor.

For a moment, you stare at yourself in the mirror. The simple, form-fitting black dress you wore tonight is one of your favorites. It makes you feel confident - beautiful, even. You let yourself appreciate it for a while before you finally reach for the zipper, contorting your arm to pull it down your back. A second later, the fabric hits the floor with finality, and you turn on the shower.

While you wait for the water to warm up, your eyes briefly flutter shut. Before you open them, before you take off your bra and underwear and step into your warm shower, you allow yourself just a moment to imagine what might have been. You sigh with longing, and wrap your arms tightly around your waist.

Then, at your weakest moment - a second pair of arms envelops your own.

You try to whip around, but they hold you fast, allowing you to turn just enough to get a glimpse of the intruder in the mirror, and to see a third hand clamp down over your mouth, dampening your scream before it makes it out of your throat. It’s a man, you think, but nothing about his appearance makes sense. The face you saw in the mirror isn’t right. It’s human, but covered in very un-human stitches, a patchwork that doesn’t quite add up when it’s all put together. When you look down, you see that his hand and arms are covered in them, too. And the hands…you saw three. You feel three digging into your skin. That doesn’t make sense. It’s not right. Again, you try to cry out, thrashing wildly in his arms as he presses into you.

He leans down, and flicks his tongue over your ear. “Hi. You just let me know when you’re done, okay?”

A fresh ripple of terror runs through you, because he sounds nothing like you expected. His voice is high-pitched and gleeful, far too casual for such a terrifying situation. You squirm against his grip, but it holds fast. You try to scream, again and again, until you finally accept that the seal on your mouth isn’t going to break, that the shower will obscure any sound that you do manage to make. You breathe shallowly, a black haze begins to obscure your vision. His palm is warm, damp, and smells worse than the stain on your dress.

“Are you done?” He laughs - actually giggles, like what he’s doing is nothing more than harmless fun. “Well, I guess you can’t really tell me. But you can nod your head if you are.”

You shake your head vigorously, trying desperately to tear your face from his grasp.

He sighs, exasperated. “If you don’t cut it out soon, I’m gonna have to kill you.”

At this, you freeze, too petrified to move an inch more.

“I don’t want you to die,” he continues, a petulant tone slipping into his voice. “I’ve got other plans. But I can’t just stand here covering your mouth all night.” He presses his face into the crook of your neck, lips scraping against your exposed skin. “I know you don’t really know what you’re dealing with,” he mutters. “But trust me… you would be really easy to kill. I just have to do this.” A fourth unseen hand juts out from behind you and wraps around your neck. The fingernails on this hand are long, and unnaturally sharp. Sharp enough to break your skin with ease. “It’s easy from here. All I have to do is squeeze, or slice…either way, you’ll die!”

What is this thing? You’d like to believe that you’re hallucinating, but the nails tapping against your skin feel far too real.

“If I let go of you,” he explains, “I need to know that you’re not gonna scream or try to run away. I want this to be a nice night for us. It’s not gonna be nice if I have to spend it killing the people that come running to save you. I don’t wanna be distracted.” He kisses you gently on the neck, and a chill runs down your spine.

The way he’s talking…it sounds like he actually thinks he’s being sweet. You’d be less terrified if he was self-aware. If he knew what a terrible thing he was doing.

He nuzzles his face against your hair, inhaling deeply as he raises a sharp nailed finger to caress the line of your jaw. “You looked so lonely tonight,” he sighs. “I noticed it right away.”

You stiffen. He’s so deep in his delusion that he seems to have lost all grasp on reality - but he’s right about the loneliness. What, and how, does he know?

“Even with all your friends around you,” he sighs. “So miserable. Like you were waiting for someone special, and they never came.”

Everything. He knows everything. He’s had his eye on you for hours…if not longer.

“You won’t be lonely anymore if you’re good for me,” he murmurs. “And you’ll be alive.” His teeth grind into your neck, gnawing away like a dog on a bone, and your body tenses at the sudden pain. “Come on,” he whines, his voice muffled by the pinch of skin still locked between his jaws. “Just promise to be good - just nod your head…”

What choice do you have? Even if there is some other choice, your mind is too scrambled to think of it. Too confused by all the impossibilities you’ve just witnessed, still reeling from the revelation that he’s been watching you all night. Later, you’ll try to work out how he managed to enter your home, but that’s not on your mind right now - not when your life depends on a single quick decision. You nod, and when his hands slip from your face and neck a moment later, you don’t make a sound.

“Good job!” The arms around your waist squeeze you tighter, and you hear the other pair clapping in celebration behind you. “I was worried you were gonna do something stupid. I’m glad you didn’t…I’ve got such exciting plans for you. I’d be so sad if I didn’t get to use them.” He drops his arms from your waist. “Turn around. I wanna see you.”

Slowly, stiffly, you turn to face him. The third and fourth arm have somehow disappeared - he looks human now, save for the stitches running across his skin. He’s got long hair, colored a light blue. For some reason, you don’t think it’s dyed. With everything you’ve just seen, unnatural hair doesn’t seem out of the question. His eyes are mismatched - one is blue, the other grey. They’re striking, shining with a bright intensity that almost makes you want to look away.

His left hand latches onto your waist, and the right twists through your hair. “You’re pretty on the outside,” he whispers, bringing his face so close to yours that you go cross-eyed. “On the inside…you’re the same as the rest. But I don’t care about that right now.” He pulls on your hair, practically humming in excitement as you cry out. “Or maybe I do. All your silly, stupid little human desires…they’re the reason you looked so miserable tonight, aren’t they? You wanted something - or someone.” He yanks your head up and down, forcing you to nod in agreement. “I know I’m right. You were looking for another human to…how do you phrase it? To sleep with?” He smiles, his eyes stretched grotesquely wide. “So many of you have that same desire…I’ve been trying to understand it. It’s been killing me, all the wanting, the not knowing. But then I realized - if I want to understand, all I have to do is try it out!”

He pulls you into a rough, sloppy kiss, and your eyelids shut, squeezing out the tears that have gathered beneath them. You don’t want to do this. The way he’s been talking makes you feel like a specimen under a microscope - or a lab rat in a cage. When it ends…will he let me go? For a split second, you see an image of your body lying cold and lifeless beneath your bedsheets. Your eyes snap open, and you see that his already are.

“Mmm.” His eyes are narrowed, his lips pulled into a grin just a bit too wide for his face. “I made a good choice…I like you. You get even prettier when you’re scared.” Without warning, bends down, grabs both of your ankles, and yanks you off your feet. Your ears ring painfully as he drags you out of the bathroom, across the hall, shouldering open the door that leads to your bedroom. He kicks it shut behind him. Then, he pulls you into the air, dangling your body carelessly in front of him. You squirm and thrash, caught like a fish on a line.

Carefully, he makes his way across the room, and deposits you on your bed, laying you down on your back. Before you can sit up, he’s kneeling on top of you, one leg on either side of your stomach, his body pinning you to your mattress. He pulls off his shirt, drops it to the floor, and tumbles forward, his stitch-covered chest slapping against yours as his tongue darts into your mouth, exploring every inch of the space inside. When he pulls back, he’s panting like a predator at the end of a chase, eyes lidded, tongue lolling from his mouth and coated in drool. “I like this. I can’t believe I waited so long to try it.”

A whimper escapes from your lips as he slides his hands across your chest and rips your bra down the middle. He gropes you freely, squeezing and pinching until you’re crying out in pain.

“You make such cute sounds,” he whispers, taking a break from his assault to brush your hair back from your face. He squeezes your cheeks between his hands, forcing your lips to pucker, paying no mind to the glare in your eyes. “Adorable.” He grabs your wrists, pinning them to your side, and slithers down the length of your body, settling between your legs. You feel an unwelcome rush of heat to your core as he buries his nose and lips in your panties, his grip on your wrists tightening painfully as he inhales. “You even smell good,” he sighs, his muffled voice vibrating up your spine. “Do you smell like this all the time? Or is it a special scent? Does it mean you want me inside you?”

“I don’t want you.” The words spill out before you can reel them in.

“Sure you do.” His tongue darts from his mouth, and slides greedily over your cunt, the thin fabric stretched over it doing nothing to dull the sensation. “I know how your body works. I know what it means when you get all warm and wet…” He raises his face, and grins up at you. “You’re ready for me. And I’ve been ready for you for a very long time.” He grasps your panties in his teeth, and jerks his head, tearing a massive hole that leaves your cunt completely exposed. “I’ve been so curious. So desperate to know what it feels like. Why you all want it so badly…”

His body slides up over yours; he gathers your wrists in one hand and pins them over your head. The other hand yanks at the waist of his pants, pulling them down just enough for his cock to spring free. “Keep your eyes open,” he hisses, the tip of his cock already pressed to your entrance. “You’re mine. My favorite little experiment. I wanna know how I makes you feel.”

Your mouth falls open as he thrusts into you - it’s too much, too big, too fast, and you hear yourself cry out in pain as your eyes involuntarily snap shut. A second later, a rough pair of fingers tug at your eyelids, forcing them open. The face of your captor bears down upon you, eyes alight with sickening pleasure.

“Does it hurt?”

You nod quickly, tears already building up in the corners of your vision.

“Awww.” He stares shamelessly into your watery eyes, the tip of his tongue sliding over his front teeth as he presses into you. “You’re pretty when you cry, too.” His thrusts are erratic, each one pushing deeper inside you, as if he’s testing how far he can go. As you stretch around him, the pain begins to fade, replaced by a sensation that sends your eyes rolling back, even as your stomach sinks with dread. You don’t want to enjoy this. You can’t. In vain, you attempt to free yourself, squirming desperately beneath him, contorting your trapped hands to scratch feebly at the back of his palm.

“You wanna fight? That’s so cute.” He shoves the full length of his cock inside you, cackling at the way your eyes widen in response. “So, so cute…makes me wanna keep you. Wanna see how long it takes for you to stop fighting…for you to like it…”

You try to tell yourself that he’s babbling, that he doesn’t mean any of it. That he’ll leave, that you’ll never have to see him again, that your life will go on just as it was before. It all feels like a lie. He’s insane, but he believes every word that he says. If he says he’s not letting you go…

“You feel so good.” He groans, and presses his face against your neck. “I don’t think this is gonna last much longer…but that’s okay. We’ll try again. We’ll practice until…” He gasps. “Until forever. Yeah. I’m gonna keep you forever.” His cock pulses inside of you. His hand slips from your wrists and slides under your back, locking you in a deadly embrace - as soon as your hands are free, you try to push him away, but he’s oblivious to your efforts and impossible to move, nestled securely against you as his cum gushes deep into your cunt. He stays where he is for many, many painful seconds, only pulling away when he’s gone soft inside you. Then, he turns you onto your side, and wraps his arms around your waist.

You let your own arms go limp. It’s too late to struggle, useless to try. Much easier to lay your head down, and surrender to the kisses peppering the back of your neck.

“All mine,” he hums, dragging his hand in loose circles over your stomach. “All mine.” He lifts his head, peers over your shoulder. “Oh, come on. Don’t look so sad.” You turn your head to look back at him, a tight knot forming in your stomach as he wipes a stray tear from your cheek. “You should be happy. You got what you wanted!” He cups your face in his hand, and smiles. “You belong to me now. And that means you’re never, ever gonna be lonely again.”

don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it AYO WHAT ELSE THOSE FINGERS DO?

calling it now, this man is gonna be responsible for jjk trending once again. only difference is that this time we are all sad instead of horny

I'm not sorry for this.

Pairing: Mahito x Fem!Reader

NSFW

Word Count: 2712

Warnings: Yandere, Dubcon, Forced relationship, Implied past noncon, Implied murder (not reader), Implied kidnapping, Oral (f recieving)

Hope was a dangerous thing to have.

It meant that there was some metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel. That, to some degree, there was a positive outcome to your situation - a concept that was the very definition of delusional.

Yet you still had it.

This would not be, by any means, the first time you’d attempted to get away from Mahito. The few “successes” you had miraculously achieved were, in reality, his own experiments on human behaviour.

What would you do? Where would you go? Who would you seek out?

To each of these questions, he gained a bountiful supply of answers, the last of which especially so - growing in size and deformity in an area of the sewers that he had sectioned off specially for you.

If hope didn’t drive you to madness, the moans belonging to the twisted remains of friends and family were enough to fill in the rest, so surely it had to be madness that gave you the idea you had.

Initiating intimacy with Mahito on your own free will.

Perhaps you could argue with yourself that it was bravery instead that led you to consider such a daunting task, but the truth was far more disturbing:

What more did you have to lose?

With plans A, B, C, all the way through fucking Z failing so spectacularly, it seemed the only option left. Even if it made your stomach clench so violently you needed it to stare at the horizon to keep bile from rising up your throat.

Maybe, by some absolute miracle he would let you roam free after you convinced him you had come to return his affections. Escape would come later, you needed to take this one step at a time, but it would open the opportunity for some trust to be gained and his guard to be lowered just enough that you could get the hell out of there. Giving him an inch so you can gain a mile and (hopefully) more away from him.

It was just a matter of actually going through with it.

You knew you were staring, but it wasn’t like he paid it any mind. He was too absorbed in his book - an arm propped behind his head on the pillow while he used the other to lean the book against his knee. His free leg dangled over the side of his hammock, pushing against the ground and rocking himself from side to side. It was difficult to see the title from your position on the floor, but the illustrative diagrams were enough of a hint that it had to do something with human anatomy.

The implications of his choice of literature were shoved into the recesses of your mind as you slowly stood and made your way towards him.

Each step closer was filled with trepidation, and the skin on your hands burned as you wrung them together.

Mahito acknowledged you when you got within five feet of him.

His smile was as big as it always was, the stitches around his eyes slightly enlarged by the ridiculous glasses he wore.

“Hey.”

Your sheepish greeting made him smile wider, and he pushed the glasses up to rest on top of his forehead.

“You were staring for quite a while,” You cringed inwardly at the call out, “Is it because of my new look?”

Your eyes flickered up to the old fashioned cat-eye style frames. They made him appear almost comical, and perhaps the sight could be if they had belonged to him in the first place.

“They’re certainly something, I’ll give you that.”

He giggled. “I think the same when it comes to human eyesight.” He placed the glasses back over his eyes and leaned towards you - his eyes narrowed into slits. “Some of you have terrible vision.”

All you could do was laugh nervously at his playful tone after he failed to look away from you and the awkward silence grew. The bones in your hands screamed in protest as you wrung them further.

“I actually… wanted to ask if I could join you?”

Mahito’s eyes widened slightly - the glass lenses greatly exaggerating the expression.

Inwardly you were dying from how feeble the execution of your request was, but it was thankfully met with relief when his bemused expression melted away into one of obscene delight, and he leaned back into the hammock with his arms in an open gesture.

“Go right ahead.”

He made no motion to move over and give you space, so it was awkward climbing in. There were a few moments where you genuinely believed you were going to flip the whole thing over and cause the two of you to eat shit on the concrete below, but you managed to get your bearings and lay beside him.

Well… really you were half on top of him with your head resting on his chest.

You had been close to him before, but never anything like this. Without the resistance you normally put up, you were able to notice the hollow silence that took up the space where a heartbeat should’ve been. The hairs on your arms stood on end with the revelation, and you did your best to breathe calmly through your nose.

He smelt like death and easter lilies.

You draped your left arm over his torso - your right arm crushed somewhat awkwardly underneath you, but it was surprisingly not too uncomfortable. Your legs were quickly tangled with his, returning to their position as a prop for his book as he began to pick up where he left off.

The sound of his voice resonating through his chest made you jolt unexpectedly, and his amusement bled into his voice as he spoke.

“Since the human cerebral cortex, with its underlying white matter, occupies 75% of the whole brain, its relative expansion is frequently equated with brain evolution…”

Ah, you had been somewhat right in your earlier assumptions.

Your fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest while he read, his voice soon becoming background noise to your thoughts. Every fiber of instinct was screaming at you that this was a terrible idea. That there must be something you hadn’t tried yet, and there was still time to save yourself while maintaining your dignity.

The thoughts were squashed with a moderate amount of difficulty.

You were fully aware of how bad of an idea this was, but you had made your bed and were determined to lie in it.

You could do this.

You had to.

After a few minutes you craned your neck to look up at him properly. The glasses had slid down to the end of his nose, and a small voice in the dark corner of your mind admitted that the sight wasn’t half bad. You waited until he turned his head to face yours before crossing the point of no return - pulling yourself up his body to close the gap in a soft kiss.

You tried your hardest to make it seem real.

It didn’t last long, maybe three seconds at the most with no response on his end aside from his entire body going completely rigid underneath your touch. Mahito’s face held none of the amusement it did before when you pulled away. He reached up and took the glasses off his face, all while his heterochromic eyes searched yours curiously.

“What are you up to?”

It was a simple question that made your blood freeze.

“Nothing, it’s just… ” your brain scrambled to come up with a believable excuse, “I’m tired.”

You kissed him again before he could have a chance to respond, pouring as much affection as you could scrounge up into the action. You released his lips only to speak a few words between breaths of air.

“I’m tired… of pretending… I’m not yours.”

His movements were almost lightning fast. There was a loud *thud* from the book as it fell to the floor, forgotten while he buried his hands in your hair to hold your head in place and deepen the kiss. It was an overwhelming sensation that was only amplified when he flipped you underneath him, semi-straddling you so he had a knee between your legs and the other by your hip.

The force combined with the sudden sway from the hammock made you squeak in surprise, and you felt him smirk against your lips before his tongue entered your mouth.

It took everything not to resist as he explored your mouth with fever - a whine threatening to bubble up from the back of your throat. The intensity of it scared you, but what scared you the most was the zing of pleasure that shot down your spine. You mimicked the action of his hands, threading them through his hair to keep it from coming between your lips and his.

You were trembling by the time he pulled back, lips shiny and swollen and stretched into a grin that held pure unfiltered glee.

“Three months,”

Your brows pinched together in confusion, but your jaw fell open in a gasp when his lips descended on your neck - the action of sensitive flesh being pulled between his teeth combined with the ache quickly building between your legs cutting off any questions you had in the form of a choked moan.

“Five days,” His hands twisted your head roughly to the side, shoving it against the pillow to allow him more access to your neck, “Ten hours… twenty-four minutes.”

The sensation of his teeth sinking into the junction where your shoulder met your neck elected a sharp yelp, but his hands kept you in place as he added another mark to the collection. The pain was short and sweet, quickly replaced with a horrible rush of euphoria that littered your skin with goosebumps.

“I knew you would break eventually.”

There it was. 

The devastating reminder that broke you out of your lustful haze, and you felt the urge to rebel creep back into your heart.

But that was the point, wasn’t it? To have him believe that you were well and truly broken in by his desires? Besides, if you really had been with him for as long as he said… it had certainly been a while since you felt as good as you did.

There wasn’t any harm in enjoying the process, was there?

You pulled his lips back up to yours before you could think about it further. He groaned into the kiss, reigniting the low spark you felt earlier.

With cautious, shaking hands, you skimmed your fingers down his chest, catching the edge of the fabric of his shirt and gently pushing your hands underneath to explore his skin. He had no blemishes you could feel, the only breaks in his flesh coming in the form of raised stitches that twitched beneath your fingertips.

His upper body had all but melted against yours, his own hands moving along your body in their own exploration. You doubted he’d be able to discover more about you, but that wasn’t a thought you wanted to entertain for the sake of Murphy's law, so you relaxed as much as possible in his hold.

However instinct is what drove you to immediately grab his wrists when you felt him raise the hem of your own shirt - an action that was purely done on autopilot.

Granted you did not plan on things escalating quite this far, at least not this soon, but when Mahito’s eyes immediately locked with yours, your breath hitched in paranoia. You could see the dark remains of suspicion still swirling amongst the blue and gray, and you swallowed nervously.

“Can I?”

The backpedal of a question hung heavily in the air, and you could almost see the cogs turning in his mind as he regarded you. The silence stretched on long enough that you began to brace yourself to be called out as the fraud you were until he slowly lifted himself off of you to sit on his knees - never taking his eyes off you as he did.

Relief sagged in your shoulders, and a different thrill shot through your system as you sat up and pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you half naked in front of him.

All your bras had been destroyed some time ago.

The knotted rope of the hammock felt strange against your bare skin as you laid back again, and Mahito’s sharp cackle made you flinch from the sheer volume as it echoed across the vast space of his makeshift lair.

“Maybe not so broken.” He hummed in delight, hunching back over you and running his tongue up your ribcage to encircle one of your nipples. Your head fell back against the pillow, back arching when his lips closed around the newly hardened bud.

It felt like his hands were everywhere at once, gasping and groping so incessantly that you nearly didn’t notice the borderline abrasive tugging at the waistband of your pants.

If true doubt hadn’t filled your soul beforehand, it sure did now as Mahito trailed down your body, leaving bites and open mouthed kisses in his wake.

It was a disgustingly human-like action, but then again almost everything about him was on the surface.

You simply had to endure.

“I want you to keep looking at me, okay?”

The excitement in his voice didn’t betray the fact it was a command, not a request as he slid off the hammock and pulled the last remainder of clothing off your body with practiced ease. He roughly adjusted your body so you laid across the hammock horizontally with your hips at the edge and knees over his shoulders. He knelt so your pussy was directly in front of his face, and heat burned in your cheeks as he parted your folds with two fingers - keeping his eyes locked with yours as he languidly ran his tongue up your slit, flicking your clit sharply with the tip and you practically mewled.

His laughter vibrated against your core, causing your hips to jerk up into his mouth, and his hands looped under your legs to hold onto the fat of your upper thighs, securing your lower body in place as he devoured you.

He was a messy eater, and the noises extended beyond obscene. There was never a steady rhythm, the motion of his mouth and tongue going either too fast or too slow and never really giving you a precise pattern that you could hold onto. Just mindless exploration meant to drive you further to the point of madness.

And the sick thing was it worked. That horrid coil that you hadn’t felt in ages was rapidly building, and rational thought took a backseat as you buried your hands in his hair for the nth time that night - holding on for dear life while your hips responded to his clumsy movements.

He smiled against your cunt, tongue swirling around your clit as he watched your face pinch together at a height of pleasure that you just weren’t able to reach. You weren’t holding back anymore, whines pouring freely from your throat with increasing volume and pitch.

You practically shrieked when you felt something hot, wet, and slimy plunge into your core. You’d been so lost in the mirth and lust in his eyes that you didn’t notice the second tongue that formed, the one that now wormed its way in and out of your cunt while the other worked over your clit, and you were gone.

The walls became familiar with your screams once again when you came. You had broken eye contact with Mahito when you threw your head back against the ropes, but you couldn’t find the capacity to care as your body shook violently. Air was hard to come by, and it only grew worse as Mahito picked up the pace, never giving you a chance to recover in the post-orgasmic bliss.

“Wh-what are you doing?” You gasped.

You were granted a brief moment of relief as the tongues were pulled from you, but it wasn’t out of mercy.

“I’m not finished.” There’s an underlying tone in his usual glee. A warning that kept you firmly fastened in place.

“I want to see what it truly takes to break you.”

© absolute-flaming-trash 2022. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.

Taglist:@prettycutebunny, @sai-my-beloved, @we-are-so-close, @shorkbrian, @biby-24k, @forcefulkitten, @siphite

hypothetically…

A fucked up mahito drabble (is there any other kind?)

Word Count: 1300

Synopsis: after you witness him killing for the first time, mahito reassures you in a way that makes you feel much, much worse.

“If I was gonna kill you…it wouldn’t be like that. It would be much more personal.”

Content Tags: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. DARK CONTENT. noncon. description of gore/dead body, blood, dacryphillia, hypothetical description of reader being murdered during sex (does not actually happen), fear kink, reader is scared out of her damn mind, biting (accompanied by more blood!), mahito implies that he would be down to fuck a corpse

When you see him kill for the first time, you break down into tears. You’re not sure what pushes you over the edge: the explosion of flesh and blood that spatters the floor of the sewer as you peer around the corner, or the gleeful smile that spreads wide across his face as he looks down at the remains of his work. When you follow his gaze, you can see chunks of skin, bone, sinew - the limbs are still intact, their tattered edges dripping with fresh blood, but the entire torso is blown to bits. You heard the screams moments ago…now, you regret following them.

It takes him a minute to notice you standing there. You know that you should take the opportunity to run back to the place where he left you, to pretend that you didn’t see, but your sheer horror pins you in place. When he does see you, he rushes to your side, and smushes your face between his hands to kiss you. His palms are wet - you don’t want to think about why. “Aww. You came to watch! How sweet.” When he notices your expression, he cocks his head. “There’s nothin’ to cry about, cutie. I’m just having fun.”

You sniff, and do your best to wipe your tears away. “Most people wouldn’t call that fun.”

“Not a person, sweetheart,” he reminds you. He hasn’t stopped smiling for a second, and his grin broadens as he stares down at your face. “You’ve got fear in your eyes…it’s lovely. And so strong that I can smell it on you, too.” He inhales deeply, and his tongue darts over his lips. “You really that scared?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah?” His eyes stretch unnaturally wide, glowing in the dim light. “Why?”

Your hands shake, a black haze encroaching on the corners of your vision. “I don’t know…”

“That’s a lie!” He jabs a finger between your eyes, and pouts. “I don’t like it when you lie to me. You know that.”

There’s a good reason for you to keep your thoughts to yourself. He’ll find them entertaining…and that’s never a good thing. But if he already knows that you’re not being honest, it’s safer to tell him now. Before he decides that he needs to force the truth out of you. “I’m scared because…if you did that to them…” You shudder, and choke back a sob. “How do I know you won’t do it to me?”

“Ohhh.” He laughs, and slings his arm around your waist, kissing you gently on the top of your head. “Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You know better than to feel completely relieved. But for the moment, you think you’re safe - until he opens his mouth again.

“If I was gonna kill you…” he muses. “It wouldn’t be like that. It would be much more personal.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. You feel weak at the knees - he follows you as you sink to the ground and takes a seat against the wall, spreading his legs and dragging you between them, pressing your back against his chest. He wraps his arms tightly around your waist, and rests his head on your shoulder. “You’re such a pretty, pretty thing…” he murmurs. “You deserve a very special death.” His tongue slides up your neck, breath hot and dank against your bare skin. “I like you alive, for now. But hypothetically…if I did decide to kill you…” He squeezes you, hard, forcing the air from your lungs. “Yeah. I know exactly what I’d do.”

You stiffen in his arms, every one of your senses painfully sharp. Almost as sharp as the fingernails digging into your sides.

“I’d fuck you before I did it,” he declares, his voice bristling with excitement. “I’d put you on your back so I could see your face. I’d put my hand around your neck, and at the moment you came…” He pauses. “Hmm. Would you prefer me to strangle you, or slit your throat?”

Fuck. You knew he was deranged…but this is worse than anything he’s said to you before. Magnitudes worse. An unintelligible whimper is the only response you can manage.

“If you don’t have a preference, I think I’d prefer slicing you open. I like blood.” He grabs your jaw, wrenches your face towards him, stares intently into your fear-stricken eyes. “Not too much blood, though. I’d be gentle with you. Much gentler than I was with him.”

You follow the line of his hand to the mutilated corpse lying just feet away. You can smell it, the stink of blood and guts and death worming its way into your throat, churning the bile in the depths of your stomach.

“I’d be so sweet…I’d only rip you as much as I had to.” He turns you around and pulls you close, smiling as a fresh wave of tears streams down your face. “So pretty,” he hums. “I’d want you to still be pretty when you died, so I’d be very careful.” You try to hide your face, but his hand latches onto your jaw, freezing you in place as he kisses you roughly on the lips. His other hand plunges between your legs, and clamps down on your inner thigh. “Don’t worry,” he assures you. “I’m not gonna do it now. Maybe not ever.”

Maybe. He’s so casual about it - about holding your life in his hands.

Without warning, he shoves you onto your back, wriggling on top of you and trapping you against the floor before you can push him away. He grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand, and sinks his teeth into your neck, only pulling back once he breaks your skin - after watching your blood trickle out for a few seconds, he darts forward and laps it up, sticking out his tongue to show you the red stain before he kisses you again, leaving a rancid, metallic taste in your mouth.

He guides your hand under his body, pressing it between his legs. He’s hard. As desperately as you try to escape, he won’t let go of your wrist - he makes you touch him, grinding shamelessly against your unwilling hand.

His face hovers over yours, so close that you’re compelled to cross your eyes. “I learned something interesting the other day,” he whispers. “Can I tell it to you?”

He wants you to say yes - but you can’t bring yourself to speak. It’s all you can do to nod your head. You can feel your pulse thudding desperately in your ears, and in your palm.

“I learned,” he says, “that bodies stay nice and warm for at least ten minutes after they die. Especially on the inside.” He giggles. “I guess it takes a long time for all those squishy guts to dry out.”

You squirm instinctively, repulsed by the image that flashes through your head.

“You know what that means, right?”

“No…”

He grins terribly, and presses his lips to you ear. “It means,” he whispers, “that even if I did kill you…even after you went limp in my arms…I’d still have a little more time.”

Your mouth falls open, emitting a gasp that only makes him press harder into your hand.

“Shhh.” He presses his nose into your shoulder, his cheek rubbing against the fresh wound still leaking blood down your neck. “I told you…I’m not gonna do it today.” He raises his face as you thrash beneath him, watching your eyelids flicker, your face contorted with fear. “If I did…I wouldn’t get to hear all the pretty sounds you’re about to make.”

I feel SEEN

some of y'all need to touch grass and remember that you can like a villain and hero at the same time