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. 

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.

A Serendipitous Future

A request made by Shannon in which the reader and Black have children in an alternate universe. Additionally, the reader is Vegeta's sister and Black has reversed his ways. It is a one-shot.

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In all of your dreams you had never believed this would be possible. You had long since given up on ever hoping that you would live to see the sky turn blue again, nor the humans thriving after the destruction of Goku Black. And even more, you could never have foreseen that you would have been the cause of it. But all those facts dwarfed in comparison to your established relationship with the infamous killer turned hero. He had become your husband.

You, who had convinced him that humans were worth something, that mortals deserved to live. No one knew of the true heroine of the universe, and you were alright with that. It was enough to finally forget the days of the past, those days you had suffered in terror and agony, watching your world go up in flames. And yet, there were days you didn’t want to forget, not now, not ever. Memories that you would lock away in your heart forever, memories of him. How you managed to convince the cold-blooded serial killer of days long gone you weren’t exactly sure, and neither was Black. But for some reason, the fateful day he met you, levitating above you as you pleaded with tears streaming down your cheeks, yet refusing to back down; he was unable to kill you. Black had never spared anyone before, and as much as Zamasu goaded him to do it, he just couldn’t. And gradually, after several encounters, he inevitably drew closer, captivated by the one person who didn’t think he was a monster.

It was ironic, how a God like him fell in love with a mortal like you, the people he swore to eradicate, and he had almost done it. The Zero Mortal Plan had been so close, the only barriers were a few other Saiyans that Black could have easily crushed. He had never even thought of the possibility that a mortal would ever be able to stop him, let alone change him. It frightened him at first, but after so much turmoil he stopped fighting it and succumbed to his feelings, much to his partner’s rage.

And when Zamasu had charged at you with murder in his pale, silver eyes, it was Black who had protected you. Not Trunks, not the other Saiyans, but Black. And that was the final catalyst for your love, which exploded into something no one had ever expected.

Obviously, not everyone accepted it at first, many at first spewing filthy slurs at you, but Trunks, your best friend and cousin, though confused and hurt, had shaken his head in defeat and hesitantly supported you. Vegeta, your hot-headed brother, was nothing short of murderous and disgusted when he found out, but came around to it in due time, though neither Black nor the Prince was anything short of frigid towards each other. And surprisingly, so many others who were too tired to hate and blame anymore chose to stand by your side. It was no easy task to convince the Gods of the other universes to pardon his crimes and give him a second chance, but on the account of your own innocence and purity, not to mention the own deeds you had contributed that would rival a God’s (Enough so to earn you the title of “Warrior Princess”), they had sullenly agreed. It took time at first for Goku Black to be acclimatized to humans, but you were patient with him, and slowly became his everything.

Son Goku and his friends, with the help of many Gods who were sympathetic or simply vengeful for their cause, restored Trunks’ timeline along with the help of the dragon balls.

Trees sprouted from the ground and the barren soil became rich once more, the scourge of the universe that lingered and festered like some disease abolished. Cities were rebuilt and soon the universe began to be restored. And though Black tried to save his partner, Zamasu, in the end, was dissolved by Lord Zeno. Though only the Z-fighter knew you as the true cause of this abrupt turn of events, you were more than delighted by Black’s sudden change of heart. Perhaps it was partly because of the body of the kind-hearted Saiyan that no longer existed, but there was no doubt that you had your influence too.

It had been a few years since then, the day you finally saw the light in his heart, or more specifically, when he had openly revealed it to you, and you could never forget his words. “If it is your wish, then I will try, all for you, my love.”

And he had kept true to his promise, at the very minimum refraining from slaughtering the innocent, though you could see how difficult it was for him. And you loved him all the more for it.

After you all had settled the issue, you were both living in the mountains in an embellished wooden cabin that Black had built with his own two hands, with the occasional visit from Mai and Trunks, who were still a bit uncomfortable around your husband but tolerant enough. You really couldn’t ask more of them, and their visits were appreciated. But despite their frostiness towards the black-haired God, they had been overjoyed when you gave birth to a baby boy nearly five years prior, who bore an uncanny resemblance to their powerful father. To most, Black was still unreadable and distant, but even you could perceive the subtle joy in his dark eyes when he held his newborn son at your bedside. Two years later, you were blessed with another child, this time a girl, who bore more of a resemblance to you. And again, Black was overjoyed, constantly keeping his children within his sight and spending as much time with you as possible. Luckily for you, as one of the mightiest beings in the universe he could easily provide for your entire family with barely any effort, meaning that you were never apart for long. When you ventured into the city, Black would always follow in disguise (If you could call it that, all he would wear was a dark grey hoodie), cradling your children protectively while he fondly watched you shop.

Currently, it was springtime, and the desolated planet that had once been earth had been completely hidden by the blooming flowers and plants, showing no trace of the bloodshed that had once scorched the earth. Of course, those who were there would never wholly forget, but there was nothing more you could have wished for. You let out a sigh of contentment as you reclined back in your chair on the patio, letting the gentle sunlight caress your cheek. Black was perched in front of you, staring down earnestly at the forest below, the sound of laughter floating its way into your ears as your son frolicked around in the trees with your daughter. Two more voices mingled with your children’s delighted screams, specifically a blue-haired Saiyan and a black-haired woman. They had come over to visit, a few minutes ago, and had agreed to facilitate your children so you and Black could get some rest. As much as you loved your energetic son and curious daughter, parenthood was exhausting even with Black at your side, especially because of their had Saiyan blood.

You had barely gotten any sleep lately and neither had your lover, though he showed no physical evidence of sleep deprivation and fatigue like you did. He looked as perfect as always.

It’s so not fair, how does he always look so damn good-

He turned around at that exact moment and your face flushed as bright as a tomato, causing him to smirk as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. Even after being married for this many years he was still hard to read. He sauntered over to you, picking you up by the waist much to your surprise before plopping down where you were laying and dropping you on top of him. Such intimacy had been nonexistent during his life as a Kai, but he had learned to appreciate it after all this time.

“What were you thinking about? Must be something not so innocent by that face of yours,” he whispered huskily in your ears, his muscular arms tightening around your waist.

“And how would you be so sure? It’s not like you’re a mind-reader.” You retorted, bumping him with your elbow.

“What if I was?” He purred with such conviction then you almost believed it for a terrifying second. But you called his bluff. You had gotten so used to it now that you barely cared.

“Then you would know what I’m thinking right now.”

“Alright,” he chuckled lightly, “enlighten me, Y/n.”

“I’m thinking….” You touched your chin and pretended to ponder it for a few seconds. “That you’re an ass.”

“Oh really.” You could nearly hear the smug smirk in his voice as his hands wandered under your shirt to stroke your bare skin.

“Y-yeah,” your voice trembled as his calloused fingers grazed over your ribs, and you had to keep yourself from moaning. “Y-you’re kind of an ass.”

You remembered those days when you could barely make out a stuttering sentence in front of him, let alone tease him and get away with it. He had murdered people for far less back then, but now, he was something else entirely different, at least to you. He still projected that introverted, rough exterior towards everyone else except you and your children, but you had just accepted that as his personality.

In a brave move, you flipped over to straddle his lap and leaned in for a kiss.

Suddenly, two high-pitched voices began to draw closer and closer on the stairs, accompanied by light footsteps and followed by two pairs of much louder ones.

“C-come on kids! Stay down here and don’t disturb your parents!” You heard Mai’s voice ring out.

“But I want to play with daddy!” You heard your son say. They were awfully close and you were stuck in a provocative position, scrambling to get off and ending up falling ungracefully on your side like a turtle while Black watched in amusement.

“Daddy!” Your son leapt a good five feet into the air, which had surprised you at first but over time you had become accustomed to it. After all, all your life you had been surrounded by surreally strong warriors, on the account of being Vegeta’s only surviving family member.

Black caught him with ease and entertained him as if nothing had been happening before, you hastily scrabbling to pick yourself up from the ground. It was times like these that you wished you were as smooth as he was. Your daughter let out shouts of glee from Trunks’ arms, tugging at his colorful locks.

Both Mai and Trunks seemed to have figured out what you two were doing before there got there, judging by the embarrassed looks on their faces. Trunks passed your daughter into your arms as you thanked them, offering them tea for their trouble but they stated that they had an appointment coming up soon. Waving them goodbye, you watched as they turned into blurry specs in the sky while rocking your babbling daughter in your arms in a desperate attempt for her to go to sleep. You had a nagging suspicion that they left to give you two some privacy for whatever they suspected you were doing before being interrupted by your hyperactive children.

To be honest, that did seem like a pleasant break to the chaos two toddlers brought. But you loved them nonetheless, and you could tell by the smile on Black's face that he only revealed to you three that he felt the same.

“You know, you could’ve been really popular with the ladies with that smile,” you laughed quietly as you closed the door to your kids’ bedroom after tucking them in; they had quickly burned out all their seemingly endless energy after playing with their father, who was the only one with the stamina to match them. Perhaps letting them eat cake for dessert in the morning wasn’t the brightest idea. 

“What ladies?” Black snorted, rolling his eyes.

He entered your shared bedroom, pulling off his shirt and changing into a pair of sweatpants, leaving the battle-hardened muscles exposed to your wandering eyes. You changed too, trailing after him onto the couch in the living room and flicking on the television. You couldn’t really concentrate however, not with Black sitting in all his glory next to you, and who could blame you for looking? He had the body of a Roman God: a sculpted eight pack, bulging biceps and everything in between. To you Black was the epitome of perfection, and you to him.

Even just sitting on the couch, with his cheek propped up against a brawny forearm was enough to get you to melt.

It should be illegal to be so casually hot, you grinned cheekily at your own thoughts.

“I know you’re thinking something weird over there,” an unexpected flick to the nose jolted you out of your daydreams. “Something perverted again I assume?”

“N-no.”

He raised an incredulous eyebrow at you and you sighed. “Maybe….”

Black let out a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat and pulled something out of his pocket, swinging it uninterestingly in his hand. Your eyes widened in horror as you realized it was your phone. When did he get that? It had been in your back pocket for God’s sake!

“I know your phone password, Y/n.” Black threatened, turning on your phone. Of course, he had never gone on it before, in fear of scarring his eyes for life but hey, it was always a good time for firsts.

“Okay fine! I admit it you jerk! I was thinking about you!” You shoved his chest with both hands and muttered under your breath, snatching back your phone. God, he loved to rile you up.

Your back suddenly hit the couch below you, and your head was caged in by a pair of strong arms. “Then how about you stop imagining and show me?” Black’s lips ghosted over the junction between your neck and shoulders, making you shiver in anticipation.

“Gladly…” You reached to touch his bare chest before-

“Mommy! I think I peed!” Your son's wail interrupted the silence, and you both stiffened. 

“Aw shit. Not it!” You threw up your hands in front of you, and Black leaned back in irritation and exhaled loudly through his nose.

“Goddamnit…..”

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.

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.

Muscle Heads: Ohma x Raian

Chapter 1: Shut up, Raian

“Oi brat, wake up.” A large fist rapped on the Japanese-styled door separating the man and his neighbor; the occupant still fast asleep on the other side. He waited impatiently for a few seconds before knocking again.

“Hey,” Ohma Tokita raised his voice this time, eye twitching slightly as the sound of Kure Raian’s intense snoring somehow increased in volume.

Noisy idiot.

It was the middle of the night, the only light illuminating the room was thin, slivers of silver moonshine slipping through the curtains. The lithe fighter had about all he could take from his neighbor’s incessant snoring, if it could even be called that. It sounded like a motor engine malfunctioning, dying down every now and again only to suddenly start back up. Raian woke him up three times already, three times in the last five hours, and at this point he was on the verge of throttling him in his sleep. 

As expected, Raian wasn’t exactly the quietest roommate, but it wasn’t exactly like he had much of a choice. The main Kure mansion was mostly full, with the only room left at the end of this hallway a joint room next to Raian. Ohma could guess why his room was the only one unoccupied. Raian, the troublemaker that he was, liked to train late at night, meaning midnight or after, and oftentimes Ohma could hear him smashing something at one in the damn morning, a peal of his familiar cackling laugh piercing his peaceful slumber. For the sake of the old man Erioh who let him live there without rent, he grit his teeth and bore with it. And boy was it hard sometimes.

There’s free food here, Ohma reminded himself. Free food and all the strong fighters anyone could wish for. 

The first day he had moved in after his surgery he had found Raian squatting and looming over him at three a.m., staring down at him with a silent, toothy grin on his face right next to his futon. Ohma never thought there would be anyone weirder than Kiryu Setsuna until then, and in a sleepy haze he threw a sloppy punch that Raian easily dodged. And then that fucker proceeded to jump out his window. In his defense, Ohma was still a bit woozy from the medication for his heart and wasn’t expecting Raian of all people to break into his room, otherwise he probably wouldn’t have missed his target. Karla he had expected, which was why he made sure everything was locked down before he went to bed. But somehow Raian had managed to get through the locks without a sound and then proceeded to leer at him like a stalker.

Regardless, Ohma had grown accustomed to his weird habits as he himself was not exactly normal. But these past two days Raian had begun snoring loudly and constantly, and he was at the end of his rope. Or else he wouldn’t be standing in front of the backdoor, freezing in the chilly winter night in nothing but his boxers.

Damn, Ohma growled as Raian let out a particularly loud rumble, opting to just break the lock and deal with him before he was sentenced to another sleepless night. 

The bolt snapped easily under the pressure of his hand, the door creaking softly as he slid it open, revealing Raian spread-eagle on his back in the middle of the room. Somehow the demon Kure had migrated from his bed to the floor during the night without waking up, mouth parted and drooling.

The wool blankets were strewn around him, tangled around his powerful legs and barely covering what Ohma assumed was his naked groin.

Really? During the winter? Ohma sighed.

He let out an irritated huff and padded towards the younger fighter, nearly tripping over multiple items thrown haphazardly on the floor. Nudging him with his foot, Raian just snorted and rolled over to the other side letting out a string of curses under his breath. Several prods later and he was still snoring soundly, and Ohma subtly wondered how he hadn’t been murdered in his sleep yet. The Kures had a lot of enemies, and he was sure Raian had even more than the average clan member.

“Hey wake up,” Ohma stooped down and shook his shoulders hard, finally waking up the resting boulder.

Apparently Raian wasn’t used to being woken up in the middle of the night, immediately lurching forward and pushing Ohma to the ground with a snarl. “What the fuck do you want bitch?”

“For you to stop snoring, moron,” Ohma squeezed the wrists that were holding him down, eye blazing and rearing for a fight.

“Oh yeah?” Raian taunted with a wide smirk on his face, applying more pressure to his grip and drawing out a growl.

Pulling his leg back, Ohma rammed it into Raian’s stomach and threw him across the room, sending slight tremors through the walls of the house from the force of his kick. It was a miracle none of the other Kures were woken by the racket, but then they were probably already used to whatever unholy sounds came from Raian’s room at night.

Barely fazed, said Kure lunged forward and met him halfway, locking hands and wrestling each other to the carpet with an audible crash.

They rolled across the floor, knocking over any furniture in the way and spitting insults that would make any sailor blush. Normally Ohma was relatively immune to threats and curses, but something about Raian made his temper short-circuit sometimes. Perhaps listening to him “snore” that loudly for over a week had done it.

Eventually, Raian was able to get the upper hand on Ohma, hard knees digging into his waist as he rocked his weight back on the other man’s thighs. His body weight kept him pressed down on the ground, though Ohma could have easily broken free. 

But he was feeling generous (tired) today.

Ohma was almost tempted to smack the sneer off his face, but he knew that would just escalate the fight. Honestly he was surprised the whole place hasn’t been demolished-excluding the fist-sized holes in the plaster-and waking up the entire neighborhood wasn’t exactly on his to-do list.

Just bear with it for now, Ohma thought grumpily. I’ll slap the shit outta him in the morning. Just you wait kid.

He had completely forgotten about Raian’s state of undress until he glanced down, suddenly bucking up his hips and trying to push him off. It wasn’t like Ohma cared much about nakedness, but he’d much rather not have a grown man sitting on his dick when he was only in his boxers. Especially not Kure Raian, who was fully naked like the weirdo he was.

“Get off and put some pants on dipshit!”

Raian’s grin grew impossibly wider and he stuck out his tongue, forcing Ohma back down with his ass. “What, does it bother you or something, you perverted fuck?” With a harsh bark of laughter he roughly ground down on Ohma making him hiss.

“Son of a bitch!” Ohma swore noisily and redoubled his efforts to escape, whipping his head back and forth. This was giving him serious flashbacks to Imai Cosmo. Except back then his adversary was thankfully clothed.

“Uncomfortable? Or just excited to see me?” Raian thrust his face close, making Ohma bang his head on the ground with a solid thump to avoid being headbutted.

“Motherfucker,” Ohma grunted and turned his head to the side, too tired to deal with his bullshit anymore. His eyelids felt heavy, he had barely slept the last two days after all, and training over eight hours a day definitely didn’t help.

For a moment the only sound in the room was their panting, and neither men moved. 

“Going to sleep already?” Raian’s breath was hot on his face, so close that Ohma could smell the scent of the udon he had for dinner mingled with a faint trace of sweat and cologne.

Cologne? Since when did Raian wear cologne?

“Back off, your breath stinks,” Ohma groaned and held a hand between them.

“Oh yeah, you fuck? How about a closer whiff?” Raian cackled.

“For fuck’s sake-” The rest of his sentence was abruptly cut short as Raian surged forward to collide their lips together, or at least tried to. A jolt of pain shot through Ohma’s mouth as their teeth clashed, the familiar metallic tang of blood on his tongue.

Raian latched onto his bottom lip with his teeth, biting down hard as Ohma moaned in pain. Grabbing his shoulders, Ohma tried once again to push him off, but Raian had his biceps in a vice grip and neither fighter was budging.

Fine then, if he wanted to play rough then so be it. 

Snarling, Ohma shifted his weight onto one side and rolled Raian under him with all his strength, placing him on top this time. It shocked the Kure enough to let him go-finally, he was about to chew through his lip, and damned if he had to answer questions the next morning.

“You mothefucker! You call that a damn kiss fucking brat?!” Ohma roared, blood spilling from his cut and dripping down his chin, where it splattered in crimson pools all over Raian’s chest.

“What, like you can do better you dumb virgin fuck!” He flung his head forward again, but this time Ohma was one step ahead of him and got there first, trying to force his tongue in his mouth.

The ensuing battle for dominance was nothing short of a gross mess with an excessive amount of spit and blood, but as Kengan fighters it was nothing compared to the battles they’ve experienced. As expected, neither gave an inch, at least not until Raian suddenly grabbed a fistful of his seaweed hair and gave it a vicious tug, strong enough to pull out a clump of dark brown strands.

“Fuck!” Using the opportunity to slip into his opponent’s mouth, Raian’s victory was short-lived as Ohma took the chance to exact retribution by sinking his teeth deep into his tongue. Huffing through his nose, Raian saw red as Ohma bit down even harder. 

Sharp stabs of pain shot through Ohma’s back as Raian dug his fingers hard into his muscles, which Ohma returned by jabbing as hard as he could into his bulging biceps.

White hot agony exploded behind Ohma’s eyes as the delinquent rammed a knee into his groin and his legs gave out, his forehead bashing against Raian’s upper lip. 

“That...was for the fucking tournament…” Raian wheezed between breaths, chest heaving with the other man still laying on top.

“Shut up...Raian…” Eyes shut tightly, Ohma could feel himself drifting away in the darkness, too tired to even bother getting off of him.

“...You weigh...like a goddamn truck.”

“Shitty brat,” Ohma’s voice was barely audible and he didn’t respond to the poke in his ribs that would have normally pissed him off. There was the soft sound of rustling as Raian shifted underneath him before falling still, hand relaxing on his shoulder.

Giving up trying to fight back the darkness threatening to engulf him, he let the sound of Raian’s quieting pants and warm body lull him to an easy, dreamless sleep. He could always beat him in the morning, after all. 

There was no more snoring for the rest of the night.

***

“What the hell?” In the doorway stood Kure Hollis and Reiichi, who were sent to find them after neither man showed up to breakfast.

“Should we wake them up?” Reiichi whispered. Raian twitched from his position on the ground, face scrunching momentarily but didn’t wake. 

“No, I don’t want to deal with waking up that devil Raian in the morning.”

“Why are they covered in blood? And why is he naked?”

“I don’t know, but don’t tell Karla.” Hollis sighed.

“Don’t tell me what?” Speak of the devil, and she shall arrive.

“Oh fuck.”