Mayhem

Mayhem

"Genos..."

"Yes Sen-" A piece of soap came soaring in a wide arc to smack the young cyborg full on the face, stunning him into silence for a second. It fell into his hand, now imprinted with the vague definition of his features as a scream ran out from inside the locker room.

He frowned upon closer inspection; was that a bite mark embedded deep on the surface of the disfigured soap?

"Genos. Look," Saitama pointed calmly behind him in the doorway, his oval face boasting the same unreadable expression as always, a complete contrast to the chaos unfolding before them.

God was dead, and so were any of their remaining brain cells.

They, as in Metal Bat and Garou, were in the process of bashing each other's brains out in front of the hot tub with nothing but small towels wrapped around their waists, while a scantily clad Mumen Rider tried unsuccessfully to hold them apart. Bang and Atomic Samurai sat impassively in the tub behind them, occasionally commenting on their moves and acting as if nothing was wrong with two extremely buff and hot-headed boys trying their damn hardest to throttle each other. And was a baseball bat even allowed inside a locker room?

"Sensei, should we do something?" Genos asked with a glance at the bald hero.

"Nah, let's just find a place to sit before they burn down the building."

And part of him almost wished they did when Puri Puri Prisoner suddenly strutted in front of them buck-ass nude, heading with questionable intentions straight for Zombieman who was just trying to wash his hair on the bench.

"Hey! Cut it out you idiots! No one wants to deal with you two so just get out!" Another familiar voice rang out above all the noise as Amai Mask stomped over to the teenage brawlers, who were now completely naked and bloody. Neither pair seemed to realize that their towels had long been discarded, and Metal Bat was bleeding heavily from the face while Garou sported a few dark-colored bruises. Metal Bat swung once Amai Mask was within range, spitting out a few colorful curses that would put any sailor to shame as he missed by a hair.

The battle escalated, now a three-way fight as Mumen Rider lay passed out a few feet away, caught in the earlier crossfire. The poor guy would need new glasses once again.

"Here should be a good spot," Saitama said, pointing at a few unoccupied benches further away. It wasn't until a solid ten minutes that he sensed something was off, as if someone was watching him. Turning to the left, he was met with the blank gaze of a man in a furry white suit perched on top of the tiled wall, Watchdog Man.

How long has this guy been watching me?

He gazed back but Watchdog Man refused to look away. Maybe he was in an odd coma or something.

Okay...

"Sensei what's wrong?" Genos asked, as if sensing his discomfort.

"It's nothing I-" He was interrupted by a war cry as a ninja star suddenly lodged itself in the wall in front of him.

"Saitama! I've tracked you all the way here, now come fight me!" Sonic howled, not even waiting for a reply as he leapt towards him fully clothed from the entrance.

At least this one has clothes on, Saitama sighed.

"I'll take care of this Sensei!" Genos zoomed past him, incinerator glowing orange.

"No wait Genos! Don't use your cannons-"

BOOM!

The outer layer of the wall on the opposite side crumbled, leaving charred concrete behind as Sonic bounced around the open area.

"Ah, too late. Well, hopefully he has enough to pay for the repairs."

"Ah shit! You'll pay for that!" Flashy Flash roared as Sonic and Genos barreled into him and knocked him into a bucket of soapy water.

"Wait Flashy Flash!" Child Emperor pleaded, immediately chasing after them with the help of mechanical spider legs that sprouted from his backpack. The bathhouse really needed to upgrade their security. The three of them were now a dizzy blur dancing around the locker room.

Zombieman was sent flying into the wall as they rammed into him blindly, the back of his head hitting the wall with a sickening crack.

"Sorry!"

"Oh my God you killed him!" Puri Puri Prisoner sobbed in anguish, sprinting after him in all his naked glory.

Truth be told, to Zombieman the brief respite that death offered was far better than the awkward conversation he had been having with the ex-convict after the shittiest pick-up line he had ever heard in his entire immortal life.

"Have you ever been arrested?" Puri Puri Prisoner purred, fluttering his eyelashes at the pale man.

Zombieman furrowed his brows, replying with a very confused and hesitant "No?"

"Why do you ask?" He continued, nearly shuddering at the way the tall hero was eyeing his exposed chest.

"Because it must be illegal to look that good," Puri Puri Prisoner finished, and Zombieman could swear that the world was out to get him.

"Uh thanks," he muttered awkwardly. Never in his life would he have thought he would have be hit on by a criminal hero in the middle of a locker room full of out-of-control men acting like it was the goddamn apocalypse.

Yeah, death sounded good right about now. He would take every precious second enjoying the darkness before he healed and was dragged back into that living nightmare. Perhaps it was time to invest in some therapy.

"Garou, my boy, did you forget every technique I taught you? You're holding your hand wrong. You need to strike with your palm at an angle," Bang corrected as Metal Bat dodged his attack.

"Shut up old man! I wasn't trying to use your stupid technique anyways!" Garou snarled, springing forward again.

"Hey whose side are ya on anyways?"

"Sorry Metal Bat, old men like myself just can't help it," Bang grinned sheepishly.

"You dare turn your back on me?" Amai Mask punched him in the ribs with his momentary distraction, only enraging the seventeen-year-old more.

"I'll rip yer fucking head off you prick!"

"I don't think I ever want to come here again," Saitama said calmly as he watched a fire break out in the wet bathhouse.

A ninja star exploded behind him as Puri Puri Prisoner strutted past his vision. 

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.

Attack on Titan Short Story Collection: Towels

               The thudding of many pairs of soggy boots clamored down the halls of the Survey Corps. Screams echoed loudly down the empty pathways; today was the mandatory legion-wide training day, which had ended up in a massive rainstorm. Despite the raging weather, Erwin refused to let anyone inside until all the drills were finished. Thus, they had trained hours into the torrent, which only seemed to get worse as it progressed. Everyone was soaked, recruits, squad leaders, Captain Levi, and even the Commander. And the moment the stubborn, blond-haired man announced that training was over, it was a free for all to the showers.

               The boys and girls had branched off, the females noticeably calmer than the males. Throwing aside rank, everyone stampeded to the restrooms, which there were only two of in the entire place. One for the girls and one for the boys. The doors were slammed open, Jean and Eren scrambling at each other to be first followed by the other recruits, the elder members of the Corps a little less eager than the newer soldiers to be drawn into a wild boxing match for a shower. Poor Armin was nearly stampeded over, only saved by Mike as he grabbed his arm before he could fall.

               “Hey! I got here first horse-face!” Eren snarled at Jean, pushing at him with his shoulder. They had both simultaneously chosen the same shower head. Most of the males clumped together with their familiar groups, leaving the 104th in the rightmost corner of the area.

               And of course, leaving a bunch of teenage boys to roam free to fight for a bath would end in nothing but chaos. There was only about one waterspout for every three heads, and everybody was chilled to the bone. Whoever was last would get no hot water. To save space, Erwin had torn down all the stalls, but being in a mass of drenched men arguing naked in front of each other didn’t seem to bother them as much as not being able to wash off all the filthy rainwater and mud.

               “I’m freezing!” Connie whimpered, covering himself.

               “Come on guys, why can’t we just all take turns?” Reiner tried to separate the Eren and Jean, who were about to start throwing punches.

               “He started it!”

               “Try that again, you suicidal maniac!”

               “What the Hell did you just call me?!”

               Meanwhile, the shy Bertholdt just tried to quietly sneak under a showerhead without being shoved into a wall, all the while pieces of soap started flying in the air as Jean and Eren started going at each other, ignoring Reiner and Armin. Connie, the shortest male there, was nearly trampled to death as other teenagers joined in, desperately brawling for a shower.

               The older soldiers weren’t having much better luck either.

               “Gunther! I got here first!” Olou growled as the two had a stare-off. Eld, who had managed to get there before either of them, just sighed as he water poured over his head watching them bicker.

               Captain Levi and Commander Erwin were the last to make it, though immediately two showers opened up since no one wanted to face the short man’s wrath. He already looked murderous, with deeper bags around his eyes than usual, probably from shouting at all the recruits and rescuing them from breaking their necks the entire day. Erwin didn’t look much better; his usually neat golden hair was in disarray, and he too looked exhausted. Neither of them even bothered to comment on the chaos. People were wrestling on the floor, and objects flew around smacking random people in the face.

               Mike, who was lucky enough to get a shower since he was so large no one wanted to fight him, stood gazing at the wall, not seeming to be leaving anytime soon. Another soldier, Gelgar, was in a heated debate with Hange’s assistant, Moblit, both under the same shower as another pair of soldiers tumbled at their feet.

               The younger soldiers were beginning to push into their superiors’ space, but Levi still didn’t spare them a second glance. As long as they stayed the Hell away from him he didn’t care, he just wanted to get out of the damn monkey house as quickly as possible. After watching a good portion of them fail in ways he never thought possible during training, he was more than ready to retreat to his private quarters and settle down with a steaming cup of tea. Their shrieking was tolerable, for now. Either way, he could just give them a punishment sometime later when he didn’t feel like collapsing under a flood of water. It had been so busy lately, preparing for their next expedition that he hadn’t slept a blink in four days. Most of the higher-level officers had barely slept, too.

               Their fighting still hadn’t reached him yet, since everyone gave him and Erwin a wide berth. Levi still had enough energy to glare at them after all. Still, there were other things he would have rather done than stand completely nude in the middle of a bunch of aggravated soldiers fighting each other for a goddamn shower. And the people who had won their showers didn’t seem to be wanting to leave anytime soon, since it had been a good fifty degrees outside, pouring frigid water on everyone. Eventually, the disagreements began to cease.

               Everything was de-escalating until someone had the genius idea to twist a wet towel and deliver a stinging blow to some unfortunate soul’s behind. Levi was still scrubbing the soap out of his hair with his eyes scrunched shut when a loud slap echoed across the bathhouse, seeming to emitted from the corner with Eren and the others. He wasn’t sure exactly who did it, but once he found out he was going to shove it so far up their ass that they’ll be shitting pieces of it for a week. The slap was immediately followed by a shrill screech, and then everything fell apart. Every boy under the age of seventeen decided that wet towel blows were the only way to go, and scrambled madly for their linen.

                “I’m not dying here!” Connie howled, waving it around him wildly, hitting a few people who couldn’t dodge fast enough. Unfortunately, Armin happened to be standing close enough with his back turned to be hit directly across the thighs, and he tumbled down wailing.

                Jean and Eren were still locked in battle, this time trying to strangle each other with towels instead of fists. Several unlucky people who were close enough got caught in the crossfire, and everyone began invading each other’s spaces. Moblit slipped as he was backing up, falling backwards onto Levi who was then pushed into Erwin, the latter who seemed to be dozing off under the showerhead.

                Hurling obscenities at the terrified assistant, the quick-tempered captain thrust him off and stormed towards the middle of the conflict, leaving Erwin extremely confused as to how he ended up flat on his back on the floor and Moblit on the verge of fainting.

                “Hey you pieces of horseshit, cut it out!” The senior members all shrunk back when he passed, but most of the younger ones didn’t seem to notice him over all the hollering. He was nearly knocked over when Bertholdt tumbled backwards, dragging Reiner with him when he stumbled over someone hunched on the floor.

                “I said,” Levi inhaled, and his squad all held their breaths, wincing as they prepared for what was coming. “SHUT THE FUCK UP OR I WILL GIVE ALL OF YOU SOMETHING TO SCREAM ABOUT!”

                That was when a sharp, stinging pain erupted on his ass, undoubtedly from someone’s stray towel.

                The entire room fell silent as he processed what the Hell just happened. Even Eren and Jean had stopped quarreling to gawk in horror at the fuming man standing in the middle of a pile of wet bodies. At that moment anyone in the room would have preferred to be devoured by a Titan than to wait for what was to inevitably come.

                We’re so screwed, was the only thing that flashed through everyone’s mind at that instant.

                “All of you shitheads,” He said dangerously low, anger radiating off him and killing every hope of survival they ever had. No one had thought it was possible that someone that small could ever hold that much terror. “ARE GOING TO BE SHITTING TOWELS FOR THE NEXT FUCKING MONTH!”

                None of the recruits from the 104th Cadet Core had ever felt the agony of being whipped by a wet towel going one hundred miles per hour, and no one ever would since that day.

***

                “Why are they all standing?” Christa whispered to Ymir, who just shrugged nonchalantly.

                “I dunno. When are they not being weird?”

                “And why is Captain Levi scowling like that?”

                The Titan-slayer had a good thirty feet radius around him, and even the Commander was a bit fearful to sit within that distance. They had seen horrors that would haunt their nightmares for all of eternity that night. Some of the older Scouts who had not been fast enough to escape his reach also fell under his rage, and most were grumbling cautiously to the ones lucky enough to be able to sit down without feeling like someone had set fire to their backsides. All the girls could only stare curiously at the males, most of whom were standing up with their meals and wincing with every move.

                “Hey Connie,” Sasha leaned over to him, talking softly. Even she was affected by the unusual atmosphere. “Why did most of you guys limp in here? What happened?”

                Connie could only mumble something about towels and the devil, and none of the other boys seemed any more responsive to the probing.

                “Let’s just say, none of those brats know how to really whip a towel,” Levi stalked past, smirking smugly as he went to go wash his plates.

                And no one dared to place their towel within his reach in the bathhouse since that day.

Muscle Heads: Ohma x Raian

Chapter 3: Naughty

Raian glanced at the sleeping form next to him, Ohma’s chest rising and falling with each deep breath. He was so completely oblivious to the world around him that it could almost be considered overconfidence. 

The fact that anyone would be so relaxed as to sleep in his presence made Raian’s hands itch, as if he hadn’t caused enough trouble already. After Ohma’s room was destroyed by a particularly wild training session in which the crazy Kure decided to hurl him headfirst through the drywall, Grandfather Erioh had punished them by forcing Raian to let Ohma sleep in his room. 

And Ohma of course, though not particularly happy about it, did not give much of a shit. Raian loved riling up types like him, to see how far he could push him before he snapped, yet Ohma was much more resilient than any other man he’s seen. Living on the Inside has taught him enough patience to last a lifetime, so it was only a *minor* inconvenience to deal with someone like Raian.

Raian usually slept with the curtains open. He liked keeping the windows open at night and wasn’t someone who cared about privacy anyways. If someone was stupid enough to attack him in his sleep then let them. It would just be like a lamb walking into the mouth of a lion, and Raian was not one to reject any extra violence that so willingly placed itself into his grasp. 

His room was flooded with a dull, silver light, the moon was partially obscured by thick clouds tonight. He could smell rain in the air. 

A wide beam almost lined up perfectly with Ohma’s sprawled form, highlighting the edges of his face and captivating the attention of his roommate. 

Damn bastard doesn’t even know how pretty he is, Raian thought snarkily. Guys like Ohma normally annoyed him to no end, but he was different. It was almost endearing how clueless he was to his own charms. Almost. 

Wait. Since when did he start thinking Ohma was handsome? He’s been nothing but a pain in his ass since he showed up. Raian could feel the growing frustration well up in his chest, and he was almost tempted to throw the sleeping figure out of his room. 

He hated the feeling of confusion that began to flood over his body. Being confused was for the weak and for the prey that he devoured without a second thought. He didn’t think about petty girl shit like that. 

But it was hard for him not to look, with the way his dark lashes hung over his eyes or how his wild hair framed his cheekbones. 

Against his own mind, Raian had scooted closer to him to catch a better glimpse, staring almost creepily at Ohma’s face in the dark. 

Tch! There’s nothing special about this asshole! Raian scoffed to himself. He forced himself to roll over to the other side, facing the wall and yanking the blanket over himself almost aggressively. 

Dumb fucker’s getting in my head. 

But he still couldn’t go to sleep, even with his eyes screwed shut he saw him in his mind clear as day. 

Unfortunately for Raian, his subconscious knew better and had already begun trying to make Ohma his a while ago.

He had bought that shitty cologne from that big fragrance superstore that made his nose burn, glaring so hard at the cashier who had checked him out it was a wonder she didn’t burst into flames right then and there. 

He had snatched the bag away, leaving the poor girl shaking and stomped the entire way home in a foul mood. The cologne he had offhandedly chosen (it had taken him almost thirty minutes, never again) had been some sharp, oaky forest scent that he didn’t really care for but could still withstand without wanting to drown himself in the bathtub. (It totally wasn’t because Ohma spent a large portion of his time in the forest or anything.)

It was just so that old man Erioh would stop getting on his ass after missions for smelling like shit, Raian had told himself. 

And he had started running his hand through his hair in the morning (because Raian had never heard of a comb before), and bought new, fancier clothes. Not that he didn’t already have a revolving door of new clothes from how often he ripped them up, but these were slightly nicer. Just slightly. 

Luckily the only ones who seemed to notice were Hollis and Reiichi as perceptive as they were, and they were both unwilling to poke the hornet’s nest by bringing it up to him. 

But thinking was never Raian’s strong suit, anyways. Things tend to get blown up and destroyed when he thought too hard. 

Snorting, Raian reached over his shoulder and flicked his face, watching as Ohma grunted and scrunched up his nose, but still remained fast asleep. He did it harder this time, only for his hand to be batted away like a fly.

Growling, the troublemaker almost considered punching him in the face if that bastard kept ignoring him, but as his eyes slid down Ohma’s exposed torso he had a better idea.

Raian reared back his arm, aimed, and slammed his open palm down right into Ohma’s hard stomach with an audible SMACK that was sure to wake up half the manor.

It did the trick, all right.

Neither Ohma nor Raian slept a wink that night, nor did the entire Kure Village who were kept awake by their wild brawling.

The house shook with the force of their fight, and all through the night one could hear Raian’s wild howling and the sound of thudding blows. 

Though some of the groans emitted from their quarters sounded suspiciously like something else…

Goku Black x Reader: Forbidden Fruit (Chapter 21: The Ritual [SMUT] )

Hey guys! Sorry for not posting for so long as I've been busy with my job and college applications that I'm still not done with. It's the moment you've all been waiting for! This is the first smut I've written and all my experience comes from reading fanfiction alone in my room, but hopefully it's not that bad. The smut starts and ends at *** so skip if you don't want to read. There are quite a few more chapters to come! Thanks for all your love and support!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alright Black,” you murmured shakily into his chest. “I-I’ll do it. I’ll become a God.” Your hands clenched the soft fabric of his shirt, a churning wave of emotion threatening to bowl you over as the gravity of the situation began to solidify. You were abandoning the human race, all for the man who was responsible for their downfall. But for some reason, the thought of losing him was much worse than anything you could possibly imagine. And to think that you had once hated everything about him. Human hearts really were a fickle thing.

“Thank you.” He lowered his lips into your hair, and you could feel the waves of heat transmitting from his warm body.

You stood there for what felt like an eternity, bathing in the warmth of his embrace and nothing in the world had ever felt so perfect to you before. It was just you and him, and that was all that mattered. If you could pause this moment forever, you would have done so without hesitation. It just further confirmed that you saw no future without him in your life, and you were willing to sacrifice anything in order to do it, even your humanity. The only thing you could do was hope that Trunks wouldn’t hate you for the rest of his life, and that Mai and the others wouldn’t see you as a traitor. Even forfeiting your birth as a fellow human did not mean that you would just let them die, no, in fact it gave you a better bargaining chip. You couldn’t bear to lose any more.  

“We need to go now,” Black rubbed your back soothingly, finally breaking the trance. “We have not a moment to waste.”

“What about Trunks?”

At the mention of the boy’s name, you could see his shoulders tense but to your surprise he didn’t utter a single word. Black wasn’t going to waste any more breath on that monkey when there were more pressing matters at hand.

“Just leave him, for now.”

“But I want to say goodbye.”

“You’re lucky I’m even sparing his life,” Black growled gutturally, his mood suddenly darkening. “I will only repeat myself one more time; we are departing.” A harsh shadow fell across his face and your jaw snapped shut, biting your tongue to hold back your protests. At this rate, arguing with him would only make matters worse, and his grip was becoming unbearable.

“Fine,” you managed to breathe out, nearly choking from his bruising hand upon your bicep. You weren’t sure if he was purposefully doing it or if he simply didn’t know his own strength.

“But please let go, you’re hurting me,” you whimpered, lips trembling at the verge of tears, straining your arm against him. The pressure immediately released and his entire demeanor seemed to change, as it did quite often. You still weren’t quite used to it after all this time. Guilt flashed across his eyes but he turned away before you could see, brushing a hand questioningly over his chest. It was that feeling again.

Black’s old feelings range consisted of entirely of spite, indifference, and disgust, but since that fateful encounter with you his entire emotional spectrum seemed to expand against his will, for better or for worse. The only salvation he had managed to convince himself of was that it only expanded as far as to encompass you, and only you. To his intense relief, his goal and hatred towards the human race in particular refused to stray from its path. That was the one thing you could never change about him, and he was sure that deep down you were aware of it.

That’s alright. Patience is key. The gloriousness of my justice will always prevail, even you must see that one day, Y/n. Black reassured himself confidently. Yes, the Zero Mortal Plan will succeed, with you by his side.

With a whoosh, you felt your body disappear. When you opened your eyes again, the scenery had changed. The dazzling light was blinding, so different from the ashen, ruined world you were used to. When was the last time you had seen a clear sky? Compared to the earth even before the duo’s arrival, it was break taking and completely ethereal.

Black seemed to sense your amazement, a small smirk gracing his lips. “Welcome to the world of the Gods. You are and will be the only mortal to ever step foot here; you should count yourself lucky.”

Mortal.

That word resonated inside your chest, and your wonder was quickly overtaken by guilt and apprehension. They were still back there, completely at the mercy of Zamasu, and forsaken by you. And what about this planet? There was no way Black took you here for sightseeing. And the ritual? What the hell was going on? All he had told you about it was that it required another God and a combining of the essences, which definitely sounded suspicious to you. To be honest, after he said that part you were barely listening but had only heard snatches of the more complicated explanation of joining the souls and whatnot.

“Well, no time to waste,” Black’s voice jolted you out of your thoughts, his eyes glinting in a way as if he knew exactly what you were thinking and enjoyed your confusion. “Let’s go.”

Large hands slid under your armpit and gripped you tightly as you descended into the sky, and you swallowed a shriek as you went from ground level to a few hundred feet into the clouds within a second.

“Black!” You clung onto his arms and thrashed. “What the hell?!”

He merely grunted and loosened his grip, obviously entertained by your struggles.

“Fine fine!” Your knuckles turned pale from clutching his arm so hard. “Can you at least tell me where we’re going before you kill me?”

“You’ll see.”

“But-”

“Just shut up.” His tone left no room for argument and you had no choice but to oblige, trying not to trigger him into another mood swing. Lush trees and crystal lakes blurred behind you as you flew, though the stunning, rolling landscapes weren’t nearly enough to keep you from praying that the journey wouldn’t take much longer as your hands began to go numb from the cold of traveling so high. The warmth radiating from Black wasn’t nearly enough to keep you cozy, but it was better than nothing. Just as your eyes slumped shut and your stomach dropped, a rush of cold air battered your exhausted body, alerting you to your descension.

The unreadable Saiyan didn’t utter a word as he touched down in front of a massive, sparkling cave, its gaping maw welcoming you in. Despite the sheer blackness of the inside, you couldn’t sense any sort of darkness emitting from the depths. It was the world of Gods, after all. You could feel the dense, ancient magic shrouding the rocky surface, comforting yet powerful. You were interrupted from your spell when you felt a sturdy hand against your back, urging you forward.

Black overtook you at the entrance, and you inched forward cautiously, watching as your feet were completely engulfed by the lightless air. Vision gone, you groped blindly along the walls as you shuffled forward, listening carefully for Black’s footsteps, which were muffled on the condensed carpet of cushioned moss. You lost track of time as you pressed forward, the darkness beginning to seep into your mind, occasionally being guided by the silent God through intersections in the passageways.

After what had to be thirty minutes of wandering, a calming, turquoise light began to illuminate the barren cave, and you could just barely see Black’s silhouette through the dimness.

“Black!” You rushed to his side, huffing slightly from the pressure of the venture.

“We’re here.” He stately flatly, ignoring your grip on his arm.

A few more steps and the narrow tunnel opened up into a wide, natural chamber, in which situated a small, clear pool that seemed to radiate brightness, fed by a steady, miniature waterfall. A giant hole was situated in the rock framing the starlit night sky, the mellow light shining in a white beam onto a crystal bowl carved into a block of what appeared to be quartz.  The entire space was painted a calming azure by the reflection of the water. An air of enchantment settled heavily upon the clearing, and it was the most gorgeous thing you ever had the fortune to lay your eyes on. It easily made Earth look like a filthy, vacant rock with its beauty, and yet at the same time, it seemed so distant, so far away. A stab of anguish squeezed your heart, knowing that no other human would ever see it, and that you could never view it again in with the same eyes. Mortal eyes.

You would pay a price for this sight, your mortality, some might even argue morality, but on Earth you were already the closest thing to a God with your immortality. No, it wasn’t mortality that you were shedding. It was humanity, all because a God decided to spare you. Black hadn’t meant anything more to you than any other villain that assaulted the universe, he was just a being you had to defeat after all, or at the minimum, he was part of life. A prolonged lifespan had desensitized you to the aches and pains of a normal man, but you could never have foreseen he would have come to mean to you. How much you would give up for him, the man who ended up stalking and kidnapping you. Even now you could barely believe it, but it was the truth from every angle.

You loved him.

And he did too, if it could be called love. Obsession, hunger, maybe love, Black didn’t know either. Like you, it was still hard to fathom exactly why he gravitated towards you, why he chose to find someone to complete him now despite all his years alive. He blamed it on Son Goku, and that was the only lie he ever believed.

All that was certain was that your destinies were inexplicably entwined, for better or for worse. If you were to fall, you would do so together.

Black observed your face, lost in thought, unconsciously memorizing every subtle curve and edge of you, engrossed in nothing but the mortal that he refused to live without. And though he had doubted many things in his life, he did not doubt you. Not that he would ever tell you of course. Sighing, he kept walking with you at his tail, an unfamiliar heat stirring in his body.

Your fluctuating heartbeat crescendoed into a deafening roar as Black led you forward, approaching the glittering altar. This was it…..

“Give me your hand,” Black commanded, his voice echoing around the chamber.

“W-what? Why?”

The look Black gave you was enough to compel you to shakily offer him your trembling hand, and you didn’t say any more.

Without warning, a searing blaze of pain ripped through your palm, startling a yelp out of your mouth. You felt his hand squeeze your wrist and watched in shock as a spray of blood splattered into the bowl.

“Black?!”

Fast as lightning, a stream of crimson gushed out from his own hand, his blood mingling with yours as it swirled to the bottom. You hadn’t even seen him move, but knowing him, you honestly shouldn’t be surprised anymore. Black grabbed your bloody hand with his, holding it over the bowl as the pale, argent light suddenly seemed to grow stronger in brightness and warmth. He raised his head and closed his eyes, and began chanting in some ancient language that you couldn’t understand. It occurred to you how beautiful he looked, head crowned in silver locks, the starlight dancing on the tips of his long, thick eyelashes. You could almost imagine him an angel, but deep in your heart you knew he was anything but that. And yet you still loved him. Your younger self would have laughed at the absurdity of it all, but you didn’t care anymore.

You watched in rapt fascination as he continued chanting, his Adam’s apple bobbing mesmerizingly in his neck, silently engraving the details of his face and the texture of his hand into your memory to cherish forever.

You didn’t even notice that he had stopped cantillating until he let go of your hand, your wrist knocking against the edge of the altar.

“Come,” Black voice was nearly a whisper, beckoning you towards the sapphire springs, apprehension building in your stomach along with something else that you hadn’t felt for the longest time.

“There’s only one last thing we need to do for this ritual to work. Take off your clothes and get in.”

“W-what?” Your face flushed a deep red color, and your entire body grew hot enough to rival that of the hottest fires. You forgot the twinging agony in your hand and almost thought he was joking if it hadn’t been for the look on his face.

“Just do it before I lose my patience,” he snarled threateningly, or so it seemed to you.

In reality, it was anything but that. Many nights he cursed this borrowed body that he made his, not believing that a God such as him could ever fall to the vices of lust like a mere human. Black had held back his instincts for so long that he was more than ready to ravish you. He would make sure that by the end of the night you would be his and his alone, so dominatingly his that you wouldn’t ever think of any other man other than him. Not that anyone else other than him deserved you anyways.

You had a vague suspicion where this was heading, well, not that vague anymore, but you couldn’t care less. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him as much as he wanted you, because you too had been holding back. Letting out a shaky breath, you hesitantly began to undress, feeling him boring holes into you the entire time.

If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought that you were teasing him with the way you were tantalizingly slowly peeling off you tattered clothing. Every inch of skin that you exposed made it harder and harder to keep his composure and he nearly roared in frustration. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you finished and began stepping into the pool, trying not to reveal too much to his prying eyes.

Could he have made it any more obvious?

***

The sound of what could only be clothes violently ripped off halted your progress, only waist-deep in the water, but you didn’t even have time to turn around before you were nearly tackled into the pool, a noisy splash resounding through the space. You didn’t even care that there was an enormous opening in the ceiling as hungry lips clashed against yours, teeth clashing painfully as a roaming tongue forced itself into your mouth. Hell, if there had even been anyone there to watch, you’d be sure to give them a show. You felt his hands wandering all over your body as he greedily devoured your mouth. Black obviously didn’t understand what taking it slow meant, but really, who would have expected anything less.

Couldn’t let him have all the fun now, could you?

In a surge of aggressiveness that Black was unfamiliar with, you yanked on his hair, pressing your naked, wet bodies hard against each other drawing out a delicious growl from his plump lips. All shame and inhibition were discarded. A feverish heat ignited in your nether regions and it took all of your self-control not to beg him to hurry up.

“Oh I’m going to enjoy this,” Black purred huskily in your ear, and you subtly wondered if it was even legal to be so attractive. But damn, you were ready to be a criminal. Anything and everything for him. Evidence of his arousal weighed hot and heavy against your thigh, and you couldn’t contain bucking your hips up into his.

“Black please….” You mewled against his chest, nearly in tears with wanton desire.

To your complete irritation he ignored you, instead settling to pepper open-mouthed kisses and bites to your neck and lips, one calloused hand massaging your breast before switching over to the other one. His robust, battle-hardened fingers danced dexterously over your nipples, and for a moment you thought you had died and gone to heaven.

Well, guess you could wait a little bit…..

Black swooped back to your lips, shoving his wet appendage back in your mouth and your tongues entwined in a fight for dominance, though you would inevitably lose. Panting loudly, you tugged at his bottom lip as he squeezed your ass, reveling in his pleased hum. He needed more, so much more of you. Every inch of you had to be his, and he yearned to taste it all. Dampness matted his long, black tresses to his forehead and gleaming droplets slid down his chest, and in a fleeting moment you briefly humored yourself with the idea that Black could have been a supermodel.

“What’s so funny?” Black rumbled, tilting his head questioningly at the tiny smirk on your face as you imagined him posing in front of a camera. What a time to let your imagination cut loose.

“Nothing.” You stammered, blushing even harder if that was possible.

“Oh really? Then I’ll give you something to smile about.” He didn’t give a warning as you felt a thick finger suddenly penetrate your soaking folds, making you squeal.

“Give me a signal next time!”

“I don’t really hear you complaining,” he grinned gloatingly as he began to pump his finger inside you while his thumb circled your clit.

You immediately forgot your retort and bit back a moan, his self-satisfied smirk growing wider as he watched you writhe. When he added in two more fingers, you really did let out a cry, the sound of your voice like music to his ears.

He couldn’t hold back anymore.

Black retracted his fingers only to be met with your whine, his dick pulsing and swollen with need. He led you backwards towards the side of the holy springs, ironically the place where you were indulging in your lust, and pushed your back against the soft moss and lifted your legs up, positioning his hips. Licking his lips, he gazed down at the sight of you, spread out just for him, your entire body aching with unmitigated eagerness.

“Black,” you whimpered, dragging him forward until the head of his leaking dick pressed against your vagina. “I need you.”

That was all he wanted to hear. In one violent thrust, he shoved the entirety of his huge member inside you, your walls stretching painfully to accommodate his girth. You dug your nails into his arm, legs quivering against his waist as you gritted your teeth to prevent a sob. He stayed still as you adjusted, impatiently waiting until you gave a small nod to signal that you were okay. A small, experimental thrust was enough to send you reeling and soon you were begging for more. The pain gradually lessened until it was overtaken by absolute pleasure. He angled his hips and hit the one spot deep inside you that made your vision go white, head dizzy from the feeling.

“More, Black, please more!” You almost sobbed into his neck, clenching your legs tighter around his hips, feeling his solid muscles flexing against your body.

“Only if you think you can take it.”

“I can! Please Black harder!”

“That’s a good girl.” His pace increased to inhuman speeds and he rammed into you even harder as you screamed in ecstasy. Every thrust managed to hit its mark, his head dipping to suck on your nipples while you clawed at his back, spurring him on.

The taut coil in your lower stomach was about to become undone, and by the jerking of his hips, he was about to too.

“Cum for me.” That simple sentence demolished the little control you had left and you let go, bliss hazing over your eyes and causing your silky walls to contract around him. Merely seconds afterwards he spilled inside you, letting out a throaty groan into your neck as you weakly caressed his back through it.

Shuddering, Black pulled out and you felt an uncomfortable sense of loss, as if a part of you had been torn away. You let out a complaining whine, reaching your arms out to touch him. He clambered out of the pool, turning back to haul you out onto the cloudlike moss as you promptly collapsed on top of him.

“That was amazing,” you smiled weakly, all the energy draining out of your body. You could feel thick liquid dripping down your quivering thighs, but at the moment you couldn’t care less.

“Mmm,” Black responded, tucking your head into his neck possessively and you didn’t have enough stamina left to try to coax anything else out of him. Even then, his grip was so secure, not that you would ever try to break out of it.

***

“Your mine Y/n,” Black murmured into your ear, and you could hear the triumph in his voice. “And you always will be. Now no one will ever be able to take you away from me.”

Your eyes began to droop and you were too tired to say anything else, but you knew that he was already aware of what you would have said. The rest of the world dissolved into nothingness, leaving only the two of you, entangled in the delicate web of what was called love. You listened to his heartbeat, focusing your rapidly fading attention on the thumping within his chest as the water cooled on your bodies, yet you felt no cold. And for the first time in a long time, you forgot about all your sorrows, all your shame and anger and fears and whatever else the world had burdened you with. For once, you could just be content, knowing that you were in his arms. They weren’t the arms that had brutally killed billions, no, to you they were something so much more. And if you were labeled a sinner for it, then you would gladly call him your greatest sin.

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.