Goku Black X Reader: Forbidden Fruit (Chapter 22: Back Again)

Goku Black x Reader: Forbidden Fruit (Chapter 22: Back Again)

You had thought Black was inexhaustible before then, but nothing could have prepared you for that night. He seemed far too eager to strain your limits, making love to you throughout most of the late night and into the early morning until you nearly collapsed in exhaustion. By then, the darkness began to ease its hold and streaks of dull orange began to creep through the cool, dawn sky. You barely managed to muster the strength to drag your weary body next to Black’s against the cool moss, covered in love bites and bruises from your excursion. Eyes drooping, you had only managed to nuzzle your head under his chin before promptly dozing off against his side, not conscious of him affectionately curling a firm arm around your shoulders. There was no doubt that you wouldn’t be able to walk properly the next morning, even with your accelerated healing capabilities.

Smirking silently to himself, Black allowed his awareness to slowly dissolve into a serene nothingness. The ritual had been successful; he could no longer sense your chi. No longer would he have to hate himself for giving in to a mortal.

He scowled at that wretched word, not realizing he had begun squeezing you too tightly until he heard you whimper in pain. His grip loosened immediately and he stroked your arm apologetically, gazing lovingly into your face.

Never in his entire life had he expected something like this. All he had ever known was violence and servitude, and he had been content to trek the long road alone. Murder didn’t bother him, not with how much he had seen previously as a Kai. Yet the humans cried out against him unaware of their own hypocrisy. The strong dominated the weak, as were the laws of nature. And there was no one stronger than him.

Therefore it was his right to take back what was so deservingly his.

Zamasu, however, was a welcome addition, if he could even be considered that. Moreso than that, he was part of him, figuratively and literally. Finally, someone who completely and utterly understood him. That was why he needed him. Someone to share in the glory of godhood, someone who knew exactly what was going on in his brain.

And everything had gone stellarly according to plan. That was until you had come along and threw everything off its axis. He wanted to hate you, to kill you and rid of you the same way one would rid themselves of a pesky tick, but he just couldn’t. Son Goku’s blood ran too strongly through his veins.

Zamasu still hated you, Black knew.

They were essentially the same being, yet their paths had diverged so drastically.

He had never expected you.

Black had always thought that he and Zamasu would be the only two left in the empty universe, reigning supreme as the only Gods.

And now, you belonged to him and only him, and would be until the end of time, just as it was always meant to be. You would have to leave the cave eventually, but for now, it was time to sleep.

You woke to the sound of shuffling clothes a few hours later, missing the warmth of the solid body next to you. Opening your eyes, you were greeted by the sight of the Saiyan’s muscular back as he pulled on his black shirt.

“Come on, we have to get going,” Black said without even turning around to look at you. “ I have to reunite with my partner.”

“He’s not going to try to kill me again, right?” There was a twinge of unease at the mention of the white-haired Kai; you still didn’t trust him completely and you weren’t exactly keen on seeing him again.

“I doubt he’d try if I’m around,” Black reassured, but the word “doubt” continued to echo through your ears. And it wasn’t like he could stay with you all the time, right? God knows what the Kai would do if he wasn’t around, and you sure as hell didn’t want to find out. What if he decided that he no longer needed either of you if they really did end up eliminating all mortals and went back on his word?

“Hey,” Black snapped you out of your trance, glancing at you with a knowing look. “Don’t worry about it.” The way he said it left no room for discussion, and you were left to hope that it was true.

“Okay, let’s just go,” you murmured, and Black almost felt bad for dismissing you. But he had other things to worry about. Even now, he needed to complete his mission, just as much as he needed you. No matter how much he loved you, or claimed to, he couldn’t just abandon his ambition.

Grabbing you around your waist, he lifted off into the sky, head figuratively and literally in the clouds, while you clutched at his gray gi as the ground flashed by in a haze. The journey was long, but it could never be long enough for you. Black could feel your hesitance, rubbing soothing circles upon your back as you cuddled closer for warmth.

After what felt like hours, you were nudged awake as Black touched down weightlessly on a familiar wooden deck. Another wave of nausea washed over you at the thought of the green goblin. As if sensing your unease, the hand around your shoulders tightened as he guided you towards the door.

It creaked deafeningly loud in the tranquility of the forest, revealing a darkened cabin interior.  

Silence.

You gazed around the room, staring fugitively at the sparse furnishing looking for the telltale shock of bright white hair. The kitchen and hallways were clear. Shadows crept up every plane and shrouded the furniture in darkness.

Then you saw him.

Or at least part of him. He was sitting on the gray couch, facing away from the two of you. He gave no indication that he had heard the soft padding of your combined footsteps on the floor.

Inadvertently, you shrunk into Black as he steered you forward.

“Zama-”

Black wasn’t able to finish the rest of the sentence as a glowing chi bomb blasted the two of you backwards. The heat engulfed your entire body in a fire so intense it felt as if it were infiltrating every pore in your being.

You didn’t even have time to make a sound as you were thrown into the forest, leaving a dirt trail in the grass as more explosions rocked the earth. Ears ringing, you could barely make out the blurry image of the cabin that was now missing most of its South side.

Two figures off in the distance shot out from a barely-intact roof and flew towards each other at light speed.

Vaguely, you could hear the sound of shouts and more explosions, but your body wasn’t cooperating with you as you tried to scream for Black.

Sighing in defeat, all you could do was drop your head back and wait for your scattered senses to return, eventually drifting off to a welcome slumber.

Meanwhile, things were not going so smoothly for Zamasu and Black as they battled.

“Why are you so stubborn to disagree with me? She’s no longer mortal!” Black spat, dodging a swipe from his other self.

“That’s not the problem! You cannot dress a sheep up as a wolf and pretend it is a wolf! It is destined to eat, shit, and think like prey no matter what form it takes! It was enough to turn her into a God, but I don’t want to be anywhere near that abomination! You made no mention of keeping her in my presence!”

“That is impossible! I require her assistance!”

“Assistance?” Zamasu scoffed, venom in his voice. “To fill your mortal urges? How vile.”

Black looked affronted, quickly parlaying another blow as Zamasu continued to charge at him. “That is not the only reason, don’t you dare imply that I am anything close to those animals!”

“Then why?” Zamasu roared, coming to a halt midair.

“Because she is part of my destiny! She is the last remnants of my conquest of this blasted race, and the harbinger of our new future!” It was only a half-truth that seemed almost false as it left his mouth, and Black himself wasn’t sure if he himself believed it.

But he was unwilling to expose so much of himself to his partner, especially when it was clear that Zamasu disapproved.

Black almost laughed at the irony of it all.

But it didn’t matter to him anymore as long as they completed what they had worked so hard to achieve.

“Look,” Black held up a mediating hand. “She is insignificant to the eradication of mortals, which is what we need to complete right now. I’ll try to keep her away from you, but she is mine. You don’t need to talk to her or even look at her.”

The green Kai sneered, seeming to contemplate Black’s proposal.

Finally with a huff, Zamasu agreed. “And she won’t get in the way of the Zero Mortal Plan in any way, is that clear? If she does anything to jeopardize it I’ll lock her in a place where even you can’t find and make her suffer for the rest of eternity.”

“Fine.” Black held out his hand, which Zamasu reluctantly clasped.

“Just keep her the hell away from me. Now help me fix the damn cabin.”

Black was tempted to roll his eyes but followed obediently behind him as he landed on the deck.

Now was not the time to start another quarrel, he would just have to try to pacify Zamasu as much as he could before gathering you back into his arms.

He stared off in the direction that you had been tossed to before turning back as Zamasu made a noise of annoyance.

Confusion flooded your senses as you finally came to, eyes opening to a leafy canopy without Goku Black by your side.

In a moment, everything flooded back and you groaned, pressing your palms to your eyes.

Well, there goes that for making peace with Zamasu. You were really getting sick of getting thrown around like a sack of potatoes every time that idiot got angry.

Your body still ached slightly from the blast, but it was manageable.

And it was all because of that stupid sack of shit.

It’s not like you were happy with the arrangement either, you thought angrily. Your head pulsed painfully at the thought of him.

Who the hell wants to live with a guy who tries to murder them at every possible instance?

But it was all for Black, you reminded yourself.

No, not just for him but also for you.

Even now, the human part of you reared its ugly head. It was selfish and cruel, and you knew you would eventually be forced to lose what little you had left. Either Son Goku and Trunks defeated Black and reclaimed their universe, or he and Zamasu will destroy everything leaving you utterly alone with two murderous Gods.

Even then, you still loved him.

Hot tears welled up in your eyes and the pressure began to mount like an erupting volcano inside your breast.

And as you lay there all you could do was weep for everything you had lost and loved, and everything you have and would become.

By the time you had made the trek back to the cabin, darkness had coated the sky with cold, twinkling stars.

Cursing slightly, you climbed up the long ladder on one side of the newly renovated residence, noticing the telltale dark, spiky hair in the well-lit living room. Like Zamasu had been earlier, he was reclining against the couch seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

Carefully, you cracked open the door and tried to walk inconspicuously behind him.

If Black heard you enter he gave no sign, barely sneaking you a glance as you took in your surroundings.

He could tell you had been crying from your puffy, red eyes but didn’t push the subject.

He was still exhausted from today’s events; he had added a whole new section to the cabin just for you and still had to listen to Zamasu’s complaints the entire time. (Zamasu hadn’t helped, not to his surprise.)

Not to mention the scuffle earlier had left him slightly battered (though he’d never admit it). Luckily for him, he was the one who had inherited the greater combat skills thanks to a certain Saiyan, so the damage was only minimal.

Black watched disinterestedly as you trudged to your new room, furnished with whatever he was able to scavenge from the abandoned cities. He stared as you made a beeline straight into the darkness without turning on the lights, hearing the gentle squeal of the mattress from behind the closed door as you landed face first into it without bothering to undress.

Subtly, he wondered if he should pursue you but decided against it, opting to just pass out right then and there on the couch.

Tomorrow’s problems could be dealt with by tomorrow’s self.

I was watching The Crucifixion (2017) and this dude (Father Anton) really reminded me of Brahms. 😭😭😭

Goku Black x Reader: Forbidden Fruit (Chapter 17: Red Lights)

It was the smell of smoke that woke you up first. Then the frantic chittering and trampling of undergrowth as various animals rushed passed your tree, squirrels, deer, and even wolves. They all ran towards the same direction, away from North, where you were originally headed. You were so confused by the sight that you failed to notice the red claws drawing nearer and nearer, rapidly consuming everything in its path.

It was only until you realized that they were running from something that you finally turned your head, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. Then it hit you. There had been no rain during your slumber, there was only the sound of thunder and the crackling of lighting. Of course. It hadn’t been a rainstorm. It had been an electrical storm. And you were in a forest, surrounded by tall trees. Shit.

Everything was on fire.

The flames licked at the treetops, quickly approaching your hideout.

Oh fuck! You leaped out of the branches, hitting the ground hard and sprinting away immediately, not wasting a single second. There was no time to contact Black, and even if you could, there was no way you would be able to concentrate on escaping the fire and talking to him at the same time. As if it couldn’t get any worse, a bolt of electricity split the tree not too far from you, and it burst aflame. You could feel some of the aftershock coursing through your body, but it passed eventually.

Focusing blurrily on the shapes running past you, you followed in their footsteps, hoping one of those massive canines wouldn’t become hungry.

A large force suddenly shoved you off your feet, causing you to crack your forehead against a boulder jutting from the green grass. Well, it wouldn’t be green for much longer. The air seemed to dim around you, and everything began to swirl and blend together. The smoke invaded your nose and crept through your lungs, where it nestled like a dark gray cat, mauling and biting at your insides.

Ignoring the pounding in your head and your fading vision, you grasped onto the trunk of a tree and tried to force yourself into a standing position, a hand clasped firmly over your gasping mouth.

Well, you had never been burned to death before, but you weren’t exactly eager to experience it firsthand. It seemed as if all the forces of nature were after you, first drowning, now burning. What was next, a goddamn tornado?!

When will I ever catch a break?! You thought irritably as a mouse jumped over your shoes.

Even after about two days of rest, your body was still recovering from your escape from the underground prison on the beach, and the lightning strike definitely didn’t help.

Oh Black, where are you?

That’s when you caught the sound of splintering trees followed by a deep bellow. You turned your head to be met with a massive elk, barreling through the fiery vegetation towards you, giving you a crazy idea. Stepping to the side to avoid being trampled, you waited until the colossal creature had galloped next to you before jumping and looping your arms around its neck, and holding on until it ran past another tree and pushing yourself off the trunk and onto the elk’s back.

It let out a snort but didn’t seem to be particularly interested in bucking you off, too busy trying to outrun death. Hopefully, it wouldn’t end up electrocuted, but it was the only plan you could come up with on the spot.

“Black!” You hollered as you bounced on the elk, trying to keep your head from spinning and throwing you off. “Black!”

It leaped clumsily over a fallen log and you were nearly sent flying, clutching onto its rough, thick fur for dear life.

Can’t I have one fucking day of peace?! You lamented silently. Life was constantly throwing curveballs at you as of late, more than the past decade combined; first, you had been trapped in that godforsaken torture cave, then the entire forest decided to set itself on fire, and then you got electrocuted and your getaway rested on a weakening elk that was beginning to stumble and huff.

If you had been able to fully recover all your energy, you would have been able to signal to Black with your chi, but you were still too weak.

Every time you turned your head, the fire crept closer and closer, until you were barely outrunning it by more than a couple meters. No matter how much you tried to spur on your ride, it had inhaled to much smoke just like you and it was wobbling badly on its spindly legs. The poor thing looked like it was about to pass out any minute, and then you’d both be goners. Trees began to fall as the fire consumed them, and the smoke was so thick you could barely see. Most of the animals seemed to have evacuated, though every now and then you would see a small critter or so lying dead, caught by the gaping maws of death.

A weak squeal suddenly caught your attention, coming from a bit farther up ahead and to your right. As you approached, you realized that it was a brown boar, a juvenile by the looks of it. Its hooves scratched at the dirt as it tried to free its foot from a hole underneath a twisted root, the noises getting softer and softer by the second, before it mournfully put its head down to accept its demise.

You looked down at the wheezing elk, white foam crusting its lips and water glazing its wide, frightened eyes. Your brows furrowed before giving its neck a quick pat, steeling yourself to jump off. It would be able to flee faster without your weight, and there was no point in you both dying. And perhaps you would be able to save the boar. You, out of everyone understood the fear of death, and there wasn’t any end much worse than burning to a crisp, alone and terrified.

Well, it’s always a good time to try something new, you managed to scoff dryly at your own joke. It’s not like I can die anyways.

Sprinting to the trapped animal, you began to furiously dig around its hoof, and it began its struggles began anew as the boar came to realize that it still had a chance at surviving. You ripped at the hard roots that curled around its leg, gritting your teeth against the pain as your flesh tore at the force. If you had been at full health you could have snapped them like ropes, but alas, there was no use wishing for something that wasn’t there. Next time you saw Zamasu, you’d shove his balls down his throat and then watch him choke on it.

“Just a little more,” You puffed, sweat dripping down your face. Your lungs were in agony, and your eyes felt just as bad. Everything hurt like Hell, but there was nothing you could do about it.

The first fingers of the flames began to lap at your sleeve, causing the boar to get even more hysterical and continue to fling dirt back at an accelerated pace.

Finally, you were able to wriggle its foot free and it sped off, leaving you covered in ashes and grime. Crawling away from the approaching flames, you didn’t even get a chance to catch your breath before pulling yourself to your feet and staggering away from a horrible roasting. Mind reeling, you could barely see over the torrent of tears the fire forced out of your eyes.

You were so focused on limping away that you didn’t notice the loud groan of a blackened tree, falling towards you. By the time you were able to realize something was wrong, it was too late.

It fell with a thud onto your back, completely crushing your legs and back under its weight. You didn’t even have the energy to scream anymore, the heat and smog had made you nearly delirious. The dead tree had paralyzed everything below your lower back, so at least there was no pain.

It almost felt nice not to feel anything anymore, though through your closing eyes everything was being swallowed by the fire and being painted red or black. How you had come to hate the color red.

Black…..You managed to whisper weakly inside your rapidly failing consciousness. Black….please help….me….Look for…..red lights….

The last thing you saw was the cloudless open night sky as the trees fell around you and two dark shapes began closing in on you, one with familiar black tufts and the other with light blue hair, unable to hear their voices as they cried for you.

A bunch of still shots from the Collected 3.

Muscle Heads: Ohma x Raian

Chapter 2: Off His Ass

“Raian that’s enough,” His sister, Fusui scolded angrily. “That’s like your thirteenth bottle.”

“Shut the fuck up, don’t tell me what to do!” Raian crowed loudly, smashing the bottle he had drained in seconds onto the ground and littering shards of glass everywhere. His sister let out a small ‘eep’ and danced away from the flying pieces, giving him a glare before Henzo pulled her away.

“Just leave him alone and he’ll be out like a light soon. Hopefully.” Henzo whispered. “Just don’t stir him up until then, okay?

“Fine,” Fusui groaned, eyeing distastefully at her brother who continued to cackle like a banshee.

“Alright who's next?” Raian waved another bottle in the air, but everyone else who had been willing to challenge him had collapsed in a near-alcohol induced coma on the ground. 

“Tch, pussies.” Raian sneered and stomped out the door of the Kure dining room, wandering about the garden in search of a good fight. His normally milky skin was flushed a light pink from the alcohol, and there was an uncertainty in his normally solid swagger as ambled around the massive yard.

The sharp sound of skin hitting stone reverberated through the crisp air, drawing the demon Kure’s attention away from his aimless walk and towards the more isolated part of the estate.

It was Ohma, practicing the Niko style against a pile of huge boulders. Sweat dripped off his bare chest, forming rivers that soaked into his baggy pants as he huffed in exertion. Still unaware of the other man’s presence over the noise of shattering stone, he went to grab another rock before a raspy voice made him freeze.

“What’s up, fucker?” 

A large, muscular arm dropped heavily across Ohma’s shoulders which he immediately pushed off.

“What the hell do you want Raian?” 

“Nothin’ much,” Raian sniggered and leaned closer, black scleras glinting maliciously in the dim light. “Wanna fight?”

“No, dumbass. Are you drunk?” Ohma wrinkled his nose at the overwhelming smell of wine on his breath. Great, as if a sober Raian wasn’t already a massive pain in the ass. “I’m not carrying you back to your room if you crash.”

“Try me, bitch.” 

The first punch knocked him back four feet, but Raian managed to stay upright, blinking rapidly to clear the dizziness in his head.

“Time to dominate!” Letting out a feral roar, Raian pounced. He beat down on his rival with wild animal strength, different from his normal-slightly more composed-Kure style. 

Despite the frenzied blows, Ohma had no problem dodging or blocking each one, though his arm began to throb soon enough under the intense barrage of attacks. If Raian had nothing else, he had brute strength enough to make any man tremble in fear. But Ohma was no normal man, and he had dealt with types like the hot-headed assassin before. Though they were much weaker at the very least.

“Hey, your old man might not be pleased with all the holes you’re leaving in the yard.” Ohma evaded a roundhouse kick and bounced back, gesturing at the substantial craters dotting the ground. “You’re ripping up all the grass.”

“Fuck that! Fight me Tokita, or are you too big of a pussy?!” His frustration with Ohma’s refusal for a real fight exploded into the form of hurling rocks like cannonballs.

Is this son of a bitch crazy? 

Ohma almost smacked himself at that thought as a human-sized boulder whizzed past his ear and battered right into the wall of the Kure manor. Raian was the definition of crazy, his face was probably plastered all over the dictionary page.

“RAIAN?! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING BOY?!” A shout halted Raian’s throwing spree momentarily, enough for Ohma to disarm him and put him into a headlock.

“We were just sparring old man,” Raian cackled, fingers prying at Ohma’s arm wrapped around his neck.

“No we were not.” Ohma started to peel his fingers out of his forearm. He had half a mind to break them. 

“I don’t care what you are doing, cease this racket immediately! I won’t tell you twice Raian,” Grandfather Erioh pointed at him with his cane. “And you, Ohma! Take him back to his room and watch him!”

Knowing better than to argue with the grandfather, Ohma begrudgingly led Raian back to his room tucked securely under his armpit. He was sure Raian could have broken out at any time, so why didn’t he?

Shaking his head, he knew better than to try to delve into Raian’s brain or else he would probably develop a migraine.

“Try not to destroy everything here, brat.” Ohma finally let him go after they reached his quarters, sliding the door shut before Raian could attack him again. During the five minute walk Raian had coughed and sneezed on him twice (he was starting to think he was doing it on purpose) as Ohma struggled to keep his large frame moving. He also thought it was fun to pinch his ass, hard. Snarling, Ohma slapped him in the face and opted for just dragging the drunk man by the arms, who went limp but continued to whine like a foul-mouthed child. 

Ohma had never wanted to murder someone so badly in his entire life.

After pulling the two-hundred-pound psychopath to his bed, Ohma was finally able to settle down in his own room,  keeping a keen ear out for him in case he decided to act up again. 

Hearing no sound from the other side, Ohma hesitantly let his eyes slip close for his daily image training. Ever since he began living with the Kures, more and more of them began slipping into his dream-battles. The three most common frequenters were always Reiichi, Hollis, and Raian. The latter slipped into his dreams the most, much to his displeasure. Dream Raian was just as annoying as the real Raian himself. 

And of course, today it was him who appeared once again. 

A loud crash seared through his concentration just as dream Raian opened his fat mouth, shocking Ohma onto his feet. He let out an irritated huff through his nose, clenching his teeth so hard they almost chipped as he yanked open the door. 

“Can’t you just settle down, you son of a bitch?” Ohma swore under his breath when he saw Raian sprawled out on the floor, reminiscent of a pale human-sized bear rug. He was almost tempted to just shut the door and pretend he didn’t see anything, but Raian had wedged his fingers into the floorboards and was in the process of peeling back the wood with a resounding snap.

Storming over, Ohma yanked his hand away only to be met with a slew of curses and a directionally-challenged fist that went straight through the floor.

“Do I need to tie you up, Raian?”

“Suck a cock, dumbass!”  

Raian suddenly reached out a hand to grab his ankle, pulling his body towards him and sending Ohma sliding on his ass as he knocked the back of his head against the floor. With surprising agility for someone that drunk, he hauled himself onto Ohma’s chest….and promptly threw up. 

It took a moment for the unfortunate man to process what had fully happened as Raian wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, sneering at him all the while. 

And then he snapped.

With a roar of rage Ohma slung Raian across the room with all the force he could muster and stormed out, bashing the door so hard that it flew off the hinges behind him as he walked stiffly to the restroom. He ripped off his clothes-they weren’t worth saving at that point-and angrily turned the shower knob all the way to the highest temperature. He wiped what was left of the vomit off his face and scrubbed his body with a rough sponge until it stung, silently cursing the old man Erioh and Raian the entire time.

Soon, the heat began to burn and Ohma was forced to exit before his skin turned a bright lobster red. Steam had overtaken the room, making it difficult to see as he blindly groped around for a towel. Therefore he was more than surprised when his foot landed on something hard and warm, something human.

“Fuck!” 

A yellowed rag was thrust in his face, making him flinch backward as Raian got up from the floor. He was so white that his body almost blended with the tiles in the steam.

Had he been there the entire time?

“Here.” Raian’s voice was raspier than usual as he dangled the cloth in front of Ohma’s face.

“What the hell is this?”

“Towel.”

“It’s filthy Raian,” Ohma scrunched his nose and pushed his arm away.

“Didn’t say it was clean.”

Sighing, he moved past him and grabbed a fresh one, eyes catching on the bright red droplets leading in a trail from the entrance. The tiny dots led to a small pool where Raian had been sitting, seeping slowly from a few cuts on his back when he had collided with the wall.

“Go take a shower, punk.”

“Ha! In your drea-” Ohma forced his head down, cutting off the rest of his sentence before walking him to the shower and shutting him in. He got dressed in record time and leaned his back against the door just as Raian attempted to crawl back out, abruptly ending his escape. There was a low curse as his face was once again introduced to the door.

“I’m not letting you out until you’re clean. You smell like shit-”

“Says who, you pig!”

“-and you’re getting blood everywhere.” He waited for a few seconds while the sounds of Raian’s heavy breathing was the only sound coming from the stall, and still no signs of any running water. A minute passed and there was still no movement from within.

“Do I have to do everything myself?!” Ohma snarled, opening the door and turning the water on cold. “Are you fucking five?!”

A hand twisted itself into his collar and wrenched him in, putting him in the direct line of the freezing water. His back arched instinctively to avoid it, unintentionally pressing himself into the body below.

Shivering uncontrollably, he fought to get Raian’s hands off him while simultaneously spinning the dial to warm, grinding his teeth to fight off the urge to strangle this man in the shower. 

When he moved to get off, the hands in his collar wouldn’t budge. “Let go Raian. Don’t make me tell you twice.”

“Why don’t you make me?” Raian mocked, still fully clothed. The white shirt he had been wearing, now stained pink with blood, turned transparent under the downpour, clinging tightly to his well-defined muscles. The blue jeans had turned dark and wet, emphasizing brawny calves and rock-hard thighs, leading up to a prominent bulge in his pants that Ohma was quite familiar with, courtesy of Kiryu Setsuna. But this however, felt different. (Excluding size differences)

Ohma tried not to stare, confusion evident in his expression. Why couldn’t he tear his eyes away? His brain told him to look away, but a more primal part of his body screamed otherwise. 

He couldn’t understand what that warm feeling was welling up inside his stomach, though it wasn’t particularly unpleasant, just...unfamiliar. 

It was puzzling when normally the only thing he had felt towards the devil of man was anger and exasperation, and the heat that usually came with those emotions were something of a different breed from what he was feeling right now.

“Remember Ohma, sometimes you just gotta throw your thoughts out the window and go for it, you know? Trust your gut, kid, and don’t think too hard or you’ll hurt yourself.”  Niko’s words bounced about in his head, echoing and gnawing away at any restraint he had left.

Fuck sensibility, Ohma growled, and Raian seemed to catch on. His gut had never led him wrong before, so there was no reason to deny it now. 

Surging forward Ohma latched his teeth onto his milky neck, instantly feeling a bright blossom of pain as Raian returned the bite with the same fervor. 

He was gonna need to take another shower.

***

“Were you guys fighting again last night?” Karla blinked at the multi-colored bruises peeking out from beneath Ohma’s collar during breakfast the next morning. Hollis spat out his food from the other side of the table and went into a coughing fit as Reiichi snickered behind his hand, half-heartedly slapping his cousin’s back in an attempt to dislodge the food. The rest of the Kures seemed to catch on too, most suddenly much more invested in their food or whispering into each other’s ears with mild giggling.

“...You could say that-” Ohma began only to have Raian obnoxiously butt in with a wide smirk on his face.

“That wasn’t what you said when you were on your knees last night!” 

There was a chorus of groans and wolf whistles as Ohma smacked Raian’s face into his mashed potatoes with a solid splat.

They were banished to sleep in the yard that night.

Friday the 13th Oneshots: Michael x Jason

Chapter 3: You Make Me Go Crazy (SMUT)

Michael, with a smug smirk plastered on his face beneath the mask, stared back unabashedly. After casting a suspicious glance back at the other man, Jason hesitantly squatted back down to fix up the cages.

By the time they had patrolled through the entire territory of Camp Crystal Lake, the sun had begun to set, painting the sky with streaks of orange and red. Jason, ever watchful after the incident by the lake, kept Michael in his peripheral vision at all times. Michael, however, refused to give up. If anything the challenge excited him. He was, if not anything else, extremely patient. All he would have to do was to wait until Jason let his guard down, then he would strike.

It wasn't until after dinner did he finally get his chance. Jason stood with his back turned to him at the sink, obliviously washing the dishes, blind to the large figure stalking towards him.

A huge, rough hand clamped down on the counter, startling Jason so much he almost dropped the plate. The other hand came up to grope and knead at his ass, and a warm body pressed him against the furniture. In a surprising turn of events, Jason found himself leaning into his touch. A soft sigh whistled through the holes in his mask and a sudden warmth crept down his spine. Michael, who was never really gentle, began tearing at his clothes from the back, letting out an impatient snarl when the leather belt that wrapped around Jason's waist refused to unbuckle. Quickly, Jason batted Michael's hands away before he got irritated and tore it in half. He wasn't sure how many articles of clothing he'd lost to the Boogeyman, but Michael was insistent.

His belt clattered to the ground and Michael wasted no time to rip off his boxers and pants. It was freezing cold outside, but Jason felt so hot that he was surprised he didn't start smoking out his ears. He couldn't even be bothered to chide his lover about shredding another pair of underwear. The fire building in his stomach sank lower, turning into a small inferno in his groin. He was already fully erect before Michael had begun to touch him, the thick member jolting against his stomach as Michael unzipped his boiler suit out of sight.

A raspy whimper slipped through his hockey mask, and Jason could feel Michael's grip tighten on his hips. If it wasn't for Jason's abnormally high pain tolerance he was sure he would be cringing in pain. It almost seemed as if they were created for each other, a perfect match made in Hell. Something hard and wet prodded at his ass, jolting him back to reality and he flinched in surprise at the feeling.

Michael didn't give much warning before he roughly thrust in and buried himself to the hilt. Jason let out a deep groan at the painful intrusion and tried to move away, but was halted by the bruising grip on his hips. He scrabbled at the counter with both hands, the wood coming apart easily under his strong grip and he clenched his teeth so hard it was a miracle they didn't chip.

Michael growled at the feeling of Jason's warm, wet walls flexing around his cock, desperate to move but he knew he was already pushing it. If he pissed him off too much Jason would stubbornly refuse to have sex with him until he cooled off. And Michael wasn't about to go on another two-week-long drought. He waited irritably for Jason to adjust to his size, the seconds ticking by agonizingly slow.

After what felt like hours but was at most around a minute, Jason wriggled his hips back into Michael as a signal to move. He didn't wait another second, starting up a brutal pace that left Jason gripping at the crumbling counter edge.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, accompanied by the soft grunts and moans that slipped through their masks. A large, calloused hand came around Jason's side to grab his straining erection and began to steadily stroke the shaft. A thumb pressed down on his weeping slit and Michael could feel Jason clamp down around him harder than before. White spots swam across his vision at the sensation of Jason's velvety walls and he redoubled his pace. Michael could feel his dick pulsating hotly in his palm, begging for release. He angled his thrusts to find the spot that he knew Jason liked, pushing as deep as he could manage from his position. He was rewarded with a particularly loud moan from his lover, and he sped up to an impossible pace that only the Shape of Haddonfield could achieve.

Jason could feel the tight bundle in his pelvic area about to burst, and he pushed back desperately against Michael. A hard thrust into the exact spot had him howling, and he came so hard he saw white behind his eyelids. Thick ropes of cum painted his chest and stomach, and Michael barely managed to fuck him through his orgasm before following suit. Warmth filled Jason's insides and leaked out of his ass as Michael pulled out, and without Michael's support he collapsed halfway onto the counter.

They stood there panting for a while before Jason heard the distinct sound of Michael's zipper sliding up. Footsteps neared his exhausted body and pulled him out of his stupor as Michael, uncharacteristically gentle, helped him redress and disappeared into the night.