Sxraphyx

To the nobles, you were power dressed in beauty. To the people, you were their beloved and feared rose — all sweet scent and sharp edges. And to your father, you were the very pulse of his legacy, the sun that rose and set within the walls of his empire.

You were spoiled.

But not stupid.

You were five feet of indulgence and command, honeyed brown skin glowing beneath sunlight, long curls untamed like the kingdom’s ancient banners in the wind. Your mouth could cut sharper than steel, and your beauty… gods, your beauty had started wars in courtrooms — dukes dueling over dances, heirs turning on one another for a glimpse of your smile.

But none of it impressed you. You had learned early that beauty could be a weapon if wielded correctly — not a gift, not a curse, but a blade.

The court called you spoiled, yes — but only the foolish ones said it to your face. The rest bowed deeper than necessary and offered gifts you would never use.

Because behind the rouge and finery was a mind sharp as obsidian. You remembered everything, from the names of your maids’ children to the number of pomegranate seeds on your plate. You spoke four languages. You could out-negotiate any ambassador who dared cross you. Your mother had once whispered that you were born with a crown already in your blood.

Your father called you his pride.

Which is why his absence now — after nearly six weeks at war — was a storm in your chest.

Solaria had not seen war in a decade. The realm had prospered, growing fat off trade routes and rare gems mined from the golden cliffs near the southern coast. Their ships were swift. Their taxes, fair. Their borders, defended by a navy feared across seas.

But peace made men lazy. And to the Northern clans, it made Solaria appear ripe.

The Barbarian Kingdom of Drakhor — a brutal, ice-clad land where snow never melted and men were forged in blood — had grown bold. They had crossed the Iron Crest mountains and swept down through border villages like wolves in winter.

They took no prisoners. Burned what they could not eat.

They called them barbarians, but that was too soft a word for what they were. These were not mindless beasts — they were warriors, ruthless and ancient, raised to worship the gods of flame and stone. Their heir was said to be worse than any before him: a golden-haired monster who could rip a man in half with his bare hands.

Solaria had prepared for diplomacy.

But the North had brought blood.

And so your father — King Alaric the Sun Lion — had ridden out with ten thousand men, leaving his velvet throne and his silk-robed court behind, trading them for steel and smoke. His last words to you had been:

“You will rule if I don’t return. You already do.”

You hadn’t cried. You only kissed his ring, nodded once, and watched him ride into the fog.

He’d left you the crown regent in his stead — a quiet move that shocked the council, insulted his generals, and thrilled you. He had three sons, from different mothers, bastards, but all raised on swords and ambition. But none were named ruler.

Only you.

But now the palace sat in strange stillness — waiting. No news had come. No ravens. No wounded men crawling back with stories of fire.

Just silence.

You stood by your balcony now, fingers gripping the cool marble, your eyes on the horizon where land met sky. You were thinking of the North. Of the strange smoke that had begun to rise beyond the ridge. Of the stillness in the wind that told you something was coming.

Letters that never came.

Rumors that shifted with the wind.

Prayers whispered over candle flames every night.

The war against the Barbarian Clan of the North had stretched longer than anyone expected, and with each passing day, the grand palace of Solaria seemed to hold its breath. Courtiers spoke in quieter tones. Advisors passed scrolls with shaking hands. Even the musicians played slower now, as if their strings mourned something yet unnamed.

“Where are the ravens?” You snapped one morning, voice sharp as a whip as you stood by the eastern tower. “Six weeks and nothing but dust and silence. The North is not so far.”

“The wind is unkind, Your Highness,” murmured a steward. “And the mountain passes—”

“Are nothing my father hasn’t conquered before.”

Still, no word.

At night, you would visit the Temple of Solara — alone. Hooded, silent, slipping past guards under cloak of darkness. There, beneath the great sun-gilded statue of the Fire Mother, you would kneel. Not as a princess. Not as a jewel. But as a daughter.

You lit a candle every evening.

One for your father.

One for your people.

And one for the gods to remind them: You would not be ignored.

Your mother, Queen Ilyana, tried to soothe you.

“Your father always returns victorious,” she said gently, brushing your curls away from your cheek. “He is the Sun Lion. The barbarian clans are little more than howling dogs.”

You wanted to believe her. You really did.

But there was something about this silence… something wrong.

The barbarian clans of the North were not like past enemies. They were no wandering brigands or disorganized rebels. They were heirs of ancient war, born in snow and stone, their kingdom of Drakhor as feared as it was misunderstood. A realm of black forests and bone-filled halls. Where boys became warriors at ten and leaders bled beside their men.

Their prince — unnamed in most reports — was said to be a creature of wrath. Untamed. Unbowed. A beast carved from ice and fury.

Some called him the Howling Heir. Others whispered darker titles: The Flame Eater, The Golden Death, The Wolf-Blooded.

And this was the man your father rode to fight.

You had never met a barbarian, but you had read every scroll, every map. You knew their war tactics were unpredictable. That their loyalty to blood and clan outmatched coin or politics. That they worshipped no gods save for strength itself.

You had argued with the council before your father left. Told them they didn’t understand what they were provoking. That the North did not bluff — it bled. And it would bleed them if they weren’t careful.

They laughed.

“You worry too much, Your Highness,” one noble had chuckled. “What is a pack of wolves to the lion’s teeth?”

But lions could still die. Even kings.

Even fathers.

And then, one late afternoon, the sound of horns split the sky. The notes rose, clear and unmistakable — a royal call of return, of victory.

You rushed to the palace balcony, silks brushing the floor, hair tumbling loose from its pins, heart pounding against your ribs like a war drum. Below, the gates were thrown wide, and the banners of House Solaria unfurled in the wind like tongues of flame — crimson and gold, stitched with the roaring sun-lion that marked your bloodline.

And there — at the head of the procession — rode your father.

King Alaric, the Sun Lion. Home.

His armor gleamed like molten gold beneath the setting sun, dented and dirtied with war but no less magnificent. His helm was clutched in one hand, the other raised in salute. His face, weathered and proud, cracked into a grin as the crowd roared with joy. Dust rose behind the legions of men who followed him — battered but alive, singing victory songs that rang through every corridor and courtyard of Solaria.

From your side, your mother let out a choked gasp — a rare, unguarded sound.

Queen Ilyana grabbed your hand with an uncharacteristic lack of composure, both of you smiling so wide it hurt. You were both a queen and a heir, yes — but in that moment, you were only wife and daughter, desperate to feel his warmth again.

You didn’t walk.

You flew down the steps of the great hall, skirts flying as if you were both children again, half-laughing, half-weeping, desperate to meet him at the entrance. The palace doors were flung open. Guards bowed as the royal family reunited beneath the last golden light of day.

You threw your arms around your father the moment he dismounted, burying your face in his chestplate, not caring if the metal dirtied your face or if the entire court watched.

“You came back,” you whispered, voice trembling.

“I always do,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your temple. His voice was hoarse from war, but warm — steady. “You held the kingdom well, my jewel.”

“And you held the line.”

"We have won," he declared, voice booming as courtiers and servants gathered. "The North bends to us. Their banners burn, their warriors lay broken in the field- some even ran for the hills." His grin was fierce, a conqueror's grin. "Tonight, we shall celebrate. A feast so grand the gods themselves shall hunger."

Your mother, radiant even in her worry-worn state, cupped his face. "And what of them?" she asked softly.

“They fought like beasts,” he murmured. “Relentless. But disorganized in the end. Once their prince was captured… they lost their will.”

Your brows lifted. “Their prince?”

Your father gave a slow nod, jaw tightening. “He did not go easily. He killed seven of my men before they took him alive. I wanted his head, but… there is power in trophies.”

The king's eyes glinted with something darker, a flash of cruelty and triumph. "You shall see." His gaze flickered to you, lingering long enough for your stomach to twist with curiosity. "Prepare yourselves. Dress in your finest silks, your brightest jewels. Tonight, the court shall marvel at what it means to win."

And you were to do exactly that.

The hall buzzed with excitement. Musicians were summoned, the kitchens thrown into chaos, maids rushing to fetch gowns and polish gemstones. Your heart thrummed with anticipation as you allowed herself to be ushered away by your ladies. You laughed breathlessly, tugging at their hands, demanding your mother's diamond combs and the gown spun from sapphire silk that clung like water to your figure.

But beneath the giddy excitement was something sharper — unease, perhaps, or instinct. The king's words echoed in your head. A prize. A trophy.

You did not yet know that the trophy was not gold, nor jewel, nor crown. It was flesh and blood. It was fury in chains. It was the barbarian prince himself.

—

The great hall blazed with light and sound, a thousand candles trembling in their crystal holders, their glow mirrored against polished floors of marble veined with gold. The long banquet tables groaned under the weight of roasted boar, spiced pheasant, sugared fruits, and silver goblets brimming with wine.

One by one, courtiers and lords drifted into the hall, their laughter bouncing against the vaulted ceiling. Jewel-bright gowns rustled as noble ladies swept in on their husbands’ arms, hair glittering with pearls and gemstones. Knights fresh from battle paraded their scars like trophies, their armor shining beneath the chandeliers.

At the high table, you sat beside your mother, draped in sapphire silk that shimmered like water. Your throat and wrists glittered with diamonds, and your hair had been swept high, secured with a comb shaped like the sun. You leaned against your chair with an almost feline poise, chin tilted, every inch the spoiled jewel of the court. But your eyes never strayed far from your father, seated proudly at the head of the table.

He raised a goblet, voice booming above the roar of celebration.

“To victory!”

The hall erupted in cheers. Goblets clinked, trumpets sounded, and the musicians struck up a triumphant tune. Wine sloshed over the rims of cups as laughter and song swelled.

He raised his hand, the hall stilled almost at once. The musicians faltered, strings trailing into silence. His shadow stretched long across the dais, and when he spoke, his voice was thick with relish.

“My people. My loyal lords and ladies. Tonight we do not only celebrate our victory…” His eyes gleamed, wolfish in the candlelight. “We shall look upon it. In flesh.”

At his signal, the great doors at the end of the hall groaned open. The clank of iron filled the air before anything else—chains dragged heavy against the stone. Gasps rippled like wind across the hall.

And then he entered.

A man—no, a beast—dragged forward by four armored guards straining against him. He towered above them all, standing near 6’5”, shoulders broad, chest carved like stone beneath the torn furs still clinging to him. His wrists were shackled in thick iron, chains biting into skin rubbed raw. A streak of dried blood trailed across his jaw, his body, his golden hair wild and untamed, eyes burning red like fire set loose in a storm.

Prince Katsuki Bakugou.

The barbarian savage of the North.

He did not bow. Did not stumble, even with chains dragging at him. He sneered, lip curling to show teeth, every inch of him fury barely contained. His presence crackled through the hall, primal and electric, as though some predator had been loosed among pampered hounds.

Your breath caught.

Infatuation struck you not in soft strokes, but like a blade through silk—sharp, sudden, impossible to deny. You had never seen a man like him. Not among the perfumed courtiers, not among the knights who begged for your favor. He was brutal strength wrapped in defiance, a storm that would not bend even when caged.

Around you, whispers erupted. Some shrieked at the indecency of displaying a barbarian in their sacred hall, others muttered prayers, still others stared wide-eyed in fascination. But you sat straighter in your chair, your glistening-bright eyes drinking him in.

Your father’s grin spread wide.

“Behold,” he thundered, “the barbarian prince. The son of the North, now broken before us.”

But you thought, pulse fluttering at your throat, that he looked anything but broken.

The chains clinked like a grim rhythm as Bakugou was dragged to the center of the hall. The guards forced him to his knees on the stone dais below the king’s table, but even then he seemed taller, broader, more alive than anyone else in the room. His shoulders were corded muscle, his head bowed just enough for his hair to shadow his eyes.

The courtiers gasped, whispered, some even laughed nervously — wine-slick voices calling him beast, barbarian, savage. But Bakugou did not so much as flinch. He held himself with the rigid pride of a man who refused to break, every line of his body promising violence if his chains slipped for even a second.

Wine was poured, laughter spilled again, the musicians struck up another lively tune. Slowly, the hall forgot to be afraid. He became a trophy on display, something to jeer at in between toasts and mouthfuls of roasted boar.

But you.. couldn’t possibly look away.

Your gaze traced every detail of him — the thick ropes of muscle in his arms, the raw skin at his wrists where iron bit, the sharp line of his jaw tight with restraint. You swore you could feel the heat radiating from him even from where you sat.

As though sensing you, his head lifted.

Eyes like wildfire swept the room, scorn dripping from every glance cast upon jeweled nobles and perfumed ladies. And then they landed on you.

You stilled.

The music, the laughter, even your own breath seemed to fall away. His gaze pinned you as though nothing else in the hall existed. Fierce, defiant, alive in a way no one else dared to be. He didn’t bow, didn’t soften — but he looked at you, truly looked. A brief eternity in a single glance.

Your chest rose too sharply, your lips parted without meaning to. Heat licked up your throat, as if you were the one in chains beneath his fire.

“Y/N.”

Your mother’s voice snapped the spell, making you blink, forcing you to look away as the weight of court returned. The queen leaned closer, speaking in that sweet, low tone she reserved for her daughter alone.

“A dreadful sight, isn’t it? But one your father insists upon. Better we display him than spill more blood tonight.”

You hummed softly, your eyes flicking — unwillingly — back to him. “Mother…” you began, fingers tracing the stem of your goblet. “What do you know of his people? Of his… kingdom?”

Your mother followed your gaze, though she did not linger on the chained prince, as if he were beneath her notice. “The North?” she said, voice airy with dismissal. “They are a force, brutal and untamed. Hunters, raiders, fighters bred in the snow and stone. For years, they’ve pressed at our borders — fierce, yes, but never unified enough to stand against us. Their prince…” She shook her head with disdain. “He is said to be their fiercest warrior. Power incarnate, they whisper. But what is power without order? Without refinement?”

The queen smoothed a hand over your arm, unaware of the spark now glowing in her daughter’s eyes. “You needn’t trouble yourself with barbarian matters. Tonight is for celebration, for silk and jewels, not savages in chains.”

You forced a smile, nodding as your mother turned her attention back to the lords clamoring for her opinion. But inside, you felt something coil, something dangerous and delicious.

Because while the hall laughed and feasted, while your mother dismissed him as nothing, you knew the truth: power radiated from him, untamed and undeniable.

And when his eyes found yours again, just for a heartbeat, you knew you wanted more.

The feast stretched deep into the night, a blur of laughter and wine, of dripping candles and clattering goblets. Roasted meats were picked clean, pastries dusted in sugar collapsed beneath jeweled fingers, and the court grew loud and merry with its victory.

But still he knelt.

Chained in the center of the hall like a beast, Prince Katsuki Bakugou did not bow his head, did not soften under the heat of their laughter. He stared, unbroken, his broad chest rising slow and steady while their songs and jeers washed over him. Every so often his eyes drifted, like fire seeking fuel — and each time, they found you.

You felt it, that pull, that burn. You reclined like a queen already crowned, your gown spilling like liquid around you, your diamonds catching the candlelight. You lifted your goblet with the practiced grace of someone who knew every eye adored you — yet your gaze never strayed too far from the one man who refused to kneel, even in chains.

At last, your father spoke of his plans.

The room fell into reverent silence. The king lifted his goblet high, his voice rolling through the hall like thunder.

“My people,” he began, “tonight we dine as victors. Our banners fly higher, our borders stretch farther, our enemies lay broken at our feet.”

Cheers rattled the rafters. He let them rise, then fell silent again, savoring the weight of his next words. His gaze dropped to the chained figure below.

“And here,” he continued, voice sharp with triumph, “is the North’s greatest treasure — their prince. Their pride.” He sneered, lips curling as he raised his goblet in mockery. “Once hailed as their fiercest warrior. And now…”

He let the silence stretch, the court waiting, breath held.

“Now nothing more than a dog on a chain.”

The court erupted in laughter, cruel and high-pitched, echoing off the vaulted ceilings. Goblets slammed the tables, feet stamped, and all around him, Bakugou was reduced in their eyes from a prince to a beast.

Your father’s voice cut above the din. “At dawn, he shall meet his end — broken before the gods and the world. Let all who dare rise against us remember this fate.”

Gasps of approval swept through the hall. The lords nodded, some ladies clutched pearls in mock fright. The air itself seemed heavy with the king’s authority.

And then—

A clear, sweet voice cut through the noise.

“No.”

The single word silenced everything. Laughter froze. Heads turned as if pulled by strings, all eyes snapping toward the princess seated like a jewel at the king’s right hand.

Your goblet rested delicately between your fingers. You did not raise your voice, yet it carried with the weight of someone used to being obeyed. You tilted your head, curls gleaming, lips painted in the faintest smile.

“Father. You cannot waste him.”

The king’s brows furrowed, the hall holding its breath. “My daughter—”

“I want him.”

The words dripped like honey, shameless and unapologetic. You leaned forward, eyes glimmering with spoiled delight as though you had asked for a new gown, or a rare gemstone. “As my personal guard. My footman. My…” you let the pause linger, watching the murmurs ripple through the crowd like wildfire, “…toy.”

The court gasped as one. Scandal bloomed, ladies whispering behind jeweled fans, lords choking on their wine.

The king’s jaw tightened. “Y/N,” he said low, warning in his tone. “This creature is no toy. He is—”

“Exactly what I want,” you cut him off, voice bright with practiced sweetness. You stood then, diamonds catching every flame in the room, your presence filling the hall like sunlight pouring through stained glass. “What better way to display our triumph than to have the barbarian prince himself serving at my heel? What greater humiliation to the North than their warrior bowing to me?”

Your words dripped with a spoiled confidence, your smile sharp as a blade. The king hesitated, but you knew your father — he had never denied you, not when you wanted ponies gilded in ribbons as a child, not when you demanded gowns imported from foreign lands. He adored you too much, let your whims reign too often, some may argue. And now, you pressed that power like a dagger to his throat.

Your mother looked horrified, lips parting in a whisper, but you only smiled, eyes never leaving her father’s.

The king’s expression shifted. At first, disbelief. Then, slowly… amusement. Cruel amusement. A laugh rumbled from his chest, spreading into the hall.

“Ah,” he said, grin cutting across his face, “my daughter is wise beyond her years. What finer punishment than this?”

He gestured grandly toward Bakugou, who glared up at him with fire in his veins.

“From this day forth, the barbarian prince shall serve no throne, no kingdom, but the whim of my beloved daughter. A slave, a guard, a footman — whatever she desires. Behold, our victory.”

The court erupted again, though hesitant at first, this time in shocked laughter and scandalized glee. Whispers flew like arrows, all eyes darting between the jeweled princess and the snarling barbarian.

And you — spoiled, radiant, unflinching — lowered yourself gracefully back into your seat, the faintest smirk curling your lips.

For the briefest moment, your eyes found his again. His fury burned hotter than the torches on the wall. But beneath it, something else smoldered.

You had saved him. You had humiliated him.

You had claimed him.

You stared at him, chest rising and falling too fast. You didn’t understand the language, but you understood the weight of what he was saying. You really....had no choice.

You were away from home, in a cold land, with a cold language, married to their chief who you barely understood. The truth of it pressed against your ribs harder than the cold ever could. He stood first, towering over you again, and set the dagger carefully back on the table instead of tossing it aside. That small act of restraint did not go unnoticed. Then he picked up the dress once more and held it out. Not aggressively this time. Just waiting, not pushing, in your own time.

Your pride screamed at you to refuse again. To fight. To make him drag you outside in your own colors just to prove you would not bend.

But pride would not warm you.

Pride would not change the fact that the wind outside howled like something alive. Pride would not send you home. You stepped forward slowly and took the garment from his hands. His fingers brushed yours for only a second before he pulled away.

He turned his back without being asked.

You hesitated, studying the rigid line of his shoulders. He stood like a soldier awaiting inspection, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the hut wall. He wasn’t watching you, but was giving you privacy. You stripped out of your lighter dress with stiff movements, folding it carefully before setting it aside. The new garment was heavy when you lifted it, the weight settling over your arms like an unfamiliar responsibility.

It took a moment to figure out the wrapping. The layers crossed differently than what you were used to. The ties were thicker, meant to be knotted tight against wind and snow. You fumbled once, twice, cursing under your breath. Another tug at the fabric and you managed to secure the inner layer, then the heavier outer wrap. The fur lining brushed against your neck and down your spine, surprisingly soft beneath its rugged exterior. It was annoyingly warm.

His eyes dragged over you slowly, assessing not your body but the fit of the garment. The way it sat on your shoulders. Whether the collar covered your throat. Whether the layers overlapped properly. He stepped forward before you could retreat and reached for the front tie.

His fingers worked deftly, tightening the knot you had left too loose. The backs of his knuckles brushed your sternum in the process, and heat flared beneath your skin that had nothing to do with temperature.

He stepped back once finished and gave a short nod.

He moved toward the entrance of the hut and lifted the heavy flap. A blade of icy wind cut inside instantly, swirling ash from the fire pit and sending a chill through the space. Then jerked his chin towards the outside of the hut. The cold hit differently outside. Sharper. Wider. The sky stretched endlessly overhead in pale gray streaked with distant mountains. Smoke curled upward from scattered huts, all built from dark timber and hide.

Men moved between structures carrying tools and weapons. Women tended fires and scraped hides clean. Children ran barefoot across packed snow like they had been born immune to frost. As soon as you came into view conversations lowered, eyes were on you. Curious glances followed your every step as you emerged at Katsuki’s side, dressed in their colors. Katsuki stepped forward without hesitation, walking into the open center of the camp. You had no choice but to keep pace beside him. Your boots sank slightly into the snow. The hem of the heavy dress brushed against your calves with each step. Feeling restrictive compared to your lighter clothes.

A group of women paused near a rack of drying pelts. Their eyes flicked over you openly, taking in the way the garment sat differently on your frame. One of them muttered something under her breath that you couldn’t understand, but the tone was unmistakable.

Judgment.

You moved to walk slightly behind Katsuki, but his hand shot out suddenly and caught your wrist. His gaze didn’t meet yours. Instead, he gently pulled you forward until you were back at his side. The message was clear, you were here, his equal. He guided you toward a larger central fire where several older men stood speaking. Their clothing was even darker than his, marked with thicker red lines and heavier adornments.

Several pairs of eyes moved over you in open assessment. Not cruel. Not welcoming either, just… measuring. Taking in the way the unfamiliar dress rested on your shoulders, the way you held yourself a little too rigid in the cold. One of the older men stepped forward, his beard streaked with gray and tied with small red beads. He said something in their language, low and deliberate.

Katsuki answered without hesitation. His voice was steady, firm, the same tone he used when giving orders inside the hut. You glanced at him, trying to read something in his expression, but he kept his gaze fixed on the elder. The older man spoke again, slower this time, his eyes flicking toward you as though expecting a response.

You felt the expectation land squarely on your shoulders. Even in this cold you could feel the heat creeping to your face. The cool wind contrasting against your skin.

“I… don’t know what he’s saying,” you admitted quietly, the frustration clear in your voice. The elder’s brows pulled together, clearly understanding that something had been spoken even if he did not grasp the meaning. Katsuki let out a short breath through his nose, a sound that carried mild irritation but not anger. He shifted his weight and placed his hand lightly at the small of your back. The contact startled you a bit.

His palm was broad and warm even through the thick fabric of the fur-lined dress. The touch did not push or steer you forward, but it grounded you in place beside him, as though he meant to remind both you and the men before him exactly where you stood.

"Shi nak rakh grav-khar. Shi-drok vek oth khar. Oth vok." (she does not speak our tongue,Her people use different words. Different sounds.)

“Threk grav zhur-sek. Threk vrath nak shi-vok. Vrath — shi zhur akh-nar now.” (that much we can see, the question was not of her voice but whether she understands where she stands now.)

“Shi zhur len.” he said sternly (She understands enough)

Another man beside the elder, broad-shouldered with deep lines etched across his face, chuckled quietly under his breath.

“Oth-drok shi, vor vel-grin sun, vrakh vor drak-thor.” (A woman taken from another tribe may smile at you one day and slit your throat the nex)

His voice directing the statement firmly toward the men

“Shi nak akh-nar krath-bound…Shi akh gra-vek” (She stands beside me, She is not here as a prisoner)

He begins to walk about the area, circling you once then twice as he spoke out. Without knowing a single word, you knew what he said was directed at you.

“Shi drath… drok drath shi vrakh. Shi vel-grav… vor vek shi grav-dor.” (She will learn… and the tribe will learn her in return. She will become one of us… and you will accept her as such.)

Another man nearby snorted softly, "Vor vok vel-len… vor gor-fel vrakh dreth half-drok." A few quiet laughs followed. (You sound very patient for someone whose temper used to frighten half the camp.)

He glanced down at you again, his red eyes studying your face as though measuring something silently. Then he gestured toward the fire burning between the stones.

"Ur,"Your gaze followed his hand. You blinked at him, confused by the sudden shift. He repeated the gesture more deliberately, pointing again at the flames "Ur..." (Fire)

"U-ur..." you repeated carefully. A murmur moved through the men standing nearby. One of them mumbled , sounding mildly impressed

"Nar." Katsuki pointed toward the ground beneath your boots next. (Ground)

"...Nar." you said a bit more confidently, take a glance around at those listening. The elder nearest the fire gave a slow nod. Katsuki allowed the faintest hint of satisfaction to cross his expression.

“Shi drath zek. Shi nak lenk.” (She learns quickly. She is not weak)

He pointed toward himself and said "Katsuki, Rakh-var", his finger then points towards your chest "Y/N, Rakh-shi" (Katsuki, husband. Y/N, Wife)

The elder beside the fire chuckled, if anything he seemed to be the kindest among them, one of the few whose expression softened instead of sharpening when he looked at you. The deep lines beside his eyes creased further as he watched the two of you standing there, awkwardly navigating words like stepping stones across a river neither of you quite knew how to cross. The murmurs around the fire slowly resumed as the men returned to their earlier conversation, but the air had shifted. What had begun as scrutiny now carried a quieter curiosity.

His shoulders relaxed a fraction, though the watchful edge in his posture never fully disappeared. He stood beside you a moment longer as if making certain the lesson had settled before he finally gestured with his chin toward the edge of the camp.

"Drav," he said, his voice lower now, meant only for you even though you could not understand the word itself. You caught the motion of his hand instead, he turned, expecting you to follow. It must have meant to follow him, you were mentally trying to memorize these words as best as you could. (Come)

The camp spread wide around you as the two of you moved away from the central fire. Smoke drifted through the cold air from dozens of smaller cooking pits, carrying the rich scent of roasted meat and damp wood. Children darted between huts with loud laughter that seemed completely unaffected by the bitter wind. Women scraped hides against wooden frames while warriors sharpened blades near racks of spears.

You watched all of it as Katsuki guided you through the narrow paths between the huts. The longer you stayed outside, the more aware you became of how exposed you felt among so many strangers. Every new sound and unfamiliar voice pressed against your nerves.

Eventually Katsuki slowed, turning toward the darker structure that you had come to recognize as his hut...well, it was yours too. Whether you admit it or not, it was the reality of things. He lifted the heavy hide covering the entrance and stepped aside, gesturing for you to go in first. The warmth from the banked fire inside met your face immediately. Compared to the sharp wind outside, the hut felt almost comfortable. You stepped inside and rubbed your hands together as the cold slowly left your fingers. Behind you, Katsuki lowered the hide flap and secured it, shutting out the wind and the noise of the camp.

Katsuki moved toward the fire pit and crouched, using a small stick to stir the embers until a few faint flames licked upward again. The shifting light danced across the red markings on his skin. He glanced up at you. He stood and gestured toward the low table where the bone-handled dagger still rested.

"Dro," more words to learn already? Well you may as well try. (wood)

You walked over and placed your fingers against the table’s rough surface.

"Wood.." you said softly and slowly,

“Wud,” he repeated.

You shook your head immediately. You repeat and break down the word "No. Woo-d.”

His brow furrowed slightly as he tried again, "Wood."

“Better,” you said, folding your arms nodding with a smile. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. The faint look of irritation that crossed his face made it clear he was not used to being corrected so often, but he said nothing about it. Instead, he simply exhaled through his nose and glanced around the hut as though searching for the next thing to test you on.

What began as a stubborn exchange of single words slowly stretched into something longer.

You and Katsuki spent hours into the night going over words as though you were children learning how to speak for the first time. The fire burned low and steady between you while the wind howled outside the hut walls, but neither of you seemed eager to stop. The lessons shifted from the simple things around the room to broader pieces of the world outside. Sky, hair, eyes, snow, mountains. colors, seasons, tools, animals. Sometimes Katsuki would point toward something and give the word in his language, watching carefully as you repeated it back. Other times you would say a word first, forcing him to try shaping unfamiliar sounds with his rough accent while you tried not to laugh when he butchered them.

Not that he made it easy either. Every time you laughed too openly, his eyes narrowed just enough to remind you that you were still dealing with a warrior who could probably split a log in half with his bare hands. Still, the frustration never quite outweighed the strange excitement that came with understanding something new.

At one point he gestured toward the red markings across his arm and said a longer word you struggled to pronounce three times before he finally gave a rare, quiet chuckle. You pointed toward your hair and said the word from your language, forcing him to repeat it until the harsh edges of his accent softened enough for you to nod in approval. The faintest hint of pride crossed his expression. And though neither of you would have admitted it out loud, there was a shared understanding growing in that small hut.

Eventually the fire burned low enough that the flames softened into glowing embers. The hut had grown quieter with the deepening night, the noises of the camp fading into distant murmurs and the occasional bark of laughter from somewhere beyond the walls. The long day had begun to settle into both of your bones.

He rose from where he had been crouched near the fire, stretching his shoulders once before stepping over to add another log to the pit. The flames caught slowly, casting new light across the hut. His gaze flicked toward you as if measuring whether you were still awake enough to continue. Katsuki watched your movements carefully, understanding more from your posture than your speech. After a moment he gave a short nod, as though reaching the same conclusion himself. He gestured loosely toward the furs laid out near the back of the hut.

"Vel..." you knew that one, and it was time to rest. You felt worn out, socially and physically. You stood slowly, stretching your stiff legs as you moved toward the sleeping furs. Katsuki extinguished the stronger flames, leaving only the warm glow of embers to keep the hut comfortable through the night. When he joined you moments later, the two of you settled onto opposite sides of the bedding like you had the night before. The distance between you remained, an invisible line neither of you crossed.

But it no longer felt quite as hostile.

____

The days that followed settled into a rhythm neither of you had planned but both slowly began to accept. Morning came early in the tribe. The sun barely crested the distant mountain ridges before the camp was alive with movement. Smoke curled from dozens of cook fires while warriors prepared for hunting runs and patrols beyond the valley. The cold bit hard in the early hours, but the people of the tribe moved through it as though it were simply another part of life. At first, you remained close to the hut, partly because you did not know where else to go. Partly because the language barrier made every interaction feel like walking into a wall.

The women of the tribe were the first to approach you. Some watched from a distance, their expressions skeptical or quietly curious as they passed by your hut. An older women who had already raised families and weathered enough winters to lose interest in petty suspicion—began to draw you into their daily routines.

One morning a woman with thick braids of dark hair simply appeared at the doorway and motioned for you to follow her. You had glanced at Katsuki, unsure, he gave you a simple nod knowing this would benefit you. That was how you found yourself learning the slower, quieter rhythms of the tribe. You helped scrape hides stretched across wooden frames while the women worked beside you, their hands moving quickly with tools worn smooth from years of use. They spoke often while they worked, their language flowing around you in long strings of unfamiliar sounds. At first you understood none of it, but slowly and surely you started making connections. They pointed when they spoke, just as Katsuki had.

Tool, Keth

Knife, Drak

Hide, Thur

Water, Vash

Sometimes they would laugh when you repeated a word incorrectly. Not cruel laughter, but warm amusement that made the frustration easier to bear. In return, you offered the words from your own language. The exchange became a game of sorts. A short and round-faced woman took particular delight in teaching you the names of every animal the hunters brought back. She would point to the carcasses hanging from the racks and say the word slowly until you repeated it correctly. You carried water buckets from the stream, gathered kindling for fires, and learned how to wrap the thick winter garments properly so the wind could not slip inside.

Some days were easier than others. Some days the frustration returned in sharp bursts when the words refused to come. But each evening you returned to the hut with new pieces of language clinging to your thoughts. And every night, when the camp quieted and the two of you sat beside the fire again, those words found their way back into the small lessons you and Katsuki continued in private.

The hut was already familiar territory. Fire, bowl, fur, knife, wood, wind. You had gone over them so many times that even Katsuki no longer stumbled over the sounds.

The fire crackled low between you while the wind pressed softly against the hide walls outside. Shadows stretched across the ceiling beams as the flames shifted. Katsuki leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. His gaze stayed fixed on you with the same focused intensity he had during every lesson.

Then he tried something different, "Y/N… cold?" almost like trying to form a sentence in your language. His accent wrapped awkwardly around the word, but the meaning was clear. You understood it immediately.

You looked down at the fur wrapped around your shoulders and nodded once, “A little cold,” you said slowly, making sure to exaggerate the words.

Katsuki listened carefully, his brow knitting as he tried to follow the structure of the sentence.

“Cold… little?” he tried again

"Yes...little," you smile and turn your body to him. He nodded once, satisfied that he had followed correctly. The fire shifted between you, sparks rising briefly before fading into the smoke hole above. For a moment the hut was quiet again except for the wind pressing against the walls and the steady crackle of burning wood. Maybe you both were not on the best of terms but he was making an attempt. If he was going to attempt sentences… then so were you!

Any embarrassment, caution or anxiety you had was pushed to the side in seconds. You felt bold enough to try and speak his tongue! You leaned forward slightly, resting your elbows on your knees the way he often did when concentrating.

“Okay,” you said slowly, mostly to yourself. “My turn.”

His eyebrow lifted. You took a breath and tried to build something from the words you had learned.

“Gra… vel, vek Katsuki. Katsuki… warm. Len good… uh… grav vel-vek… very nice.” you tried your best. You really did! Yet this giant of a man was laughing more than you had ever seen before. (“I sleep with Katsuki. Katsuki is very warm… We...sex together. Very nice.”)

His shoulders shook once as he dragged a hand across his mouth, trying to regain composure. Your eyes narrowed immediately recalling the words you had used.

“What?” you demanded

He shook his head, still half laughing “Vor… len gor.” (You're very bold)

You had no idea what he said, but the amusement in his voice was obvious.

He tried to repeat it in your language, still grinning.

“Katsuki warm… very good.” You squinted at him, not understanding.

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

He shook his head again, chuckling quietly before leaning forward slightly. Then he pointed at you.

“Y/N…” He gestured toward the furs. “…sleep.”

Then he pointed at himself. “Katsuki.”

His grin widened. You stared at him for a moment before realization hit.

Your face immediately heated. “That is not what I meant!” you were on the verge of fisting your hands and stomping like a toddler "That's--No! No!"

The protest only made him laugh harder. And for the first time since arriving in this frozen place, the sound of Katsuki laughing filled the hut.

___

Two months passed faster than you expected. The new season enters, the cold still lingers. Winter still ruled the valley, but the sharp hostility you once felt toward the tribe had softened into something far more complicated. The language that once sounded like nothing but rough noise had slowly begun to shape itself into meaning. You no longer needed to watch every hand gesture to understand the simplest instructions.

You could follow most conversations now....at least the slower ones. You find conversations with children the best if you were honest. The same round-faced woman who had once laughed while teaching you animal names now corrected your pronunciation with a patient patience that surprised you. Another showed you how to braid the thicker winter cords used to tie hunting gear. Some mornings you worked beside them in near silence, other mornings the lessons returned in bursts of pointing, laughter, and the occasional gentle shove when you misused a word badly enough to earn it.

You carried water.

You prepared herbs.

You learned which furs needed scraping and which needed drying.

And slowly, almost without noticing, you stopped feeling like a stranger walking through someone else's home. Almost as if you WERE home...

Katsuki noticed the changes before you did. He noticed the way you moved through camp without hesitating now, the way you spoke small words to the women when you passed them, the way the children had begun greeting you with curious smiles instead of wide eyed stares.

The lessons never stopped.

Every night the two of you returned to the hut, the fire burning low while words passed back and forth between you like carefully traded tools. Except now… the words were not the only things being exchanged. It started small.

A brush of his hand when he passed you a bowl.

Your fingers lingering slightly longer when you corrected his pronunciation. The way your shoulders sometimes touched when you sat too close to the fire. None of it was deliberate.....not at first.

But both of you noticed.

And once you noticed… it became impossible not to feel it, and to not want more. Sometimes you caught him watching you when he thought you were focused on something else. The way your hands while you braided cords, the movement of your hair when you leaned forward over the fire. And sometimes you caught yourself doing the same.

Watching the way his shoulders moved when he worked. The quiet focus on his face when he sharpened blades. The heat that seemed to radiate from him whenever he stood close.

It was subtle, but the tension between you had shifted into something undeniably charged. You noticed it the moment you stepped into the hut. The wind outside had grown stronger again, rattling the beams above while the fire cast restless shadows across the walls. The air inside was warm but heavy, filled with the quiet familiarity of shared space.

Katsuki followed you in moments later, lowering the entrance flap behind him. Securing it into the ground, already knowing what kind of night it would be. You moved toward the fire to stir the embers, crouching slightly as the flames rose again. Behind you, you could feel his gaze.

Not the casual glance you had grown used to, it was something deeper, hungry even. You turned slowly, he was standing near the doorway, arms resting loosely at his sides, watching you with that same measuring look he had worn the first night you arrived. Except it no longer felt like judgment.

“What?” you asked, the familiar word slipping out before you thought about it. He stepped closer, carefully but making sure to close the space between you. You had grown used to his presence by now, but standing this near always carried a strange heat with it. The firelight flickered across the red markings on his skin, making them shift like moving shadows. His hand lifted slightly, for a moment it hovered near your arm, then his fingers closed gently around your wrist.

“Katsuki?” you murmured. He studied your face carefully, as if making sure you would not pull away. His fingers rested against your cheek, rough from years of work and battle, yet the touch itself carried a careful gentleness that still surprised you every time it appeared. The fire behind you cracked softly, throwing long amber light across the hut walls while shadows moved like slow breathing things around you. For a long moment he simply looked at you.

He took in a breath and spoke in his tongue "Gra nak threk mor-nar vek gra vor. Gra vrakh vek rakh-shi… dor-drok vel. Var grav-drok vek rakh-shi. Grav keth. Grav hunt. Grav vek-shor…Grav vek shi gor, shi akh grav-vek. Vor… threk oth. Gra nak threk zhur vor nar" (I never thought the mountains would give me something like you. Because that is what men of my tribe do. We build, we hunt, we protect… and we choose someone strong enough to stand beside us. But you…You were not what I expected to find)

"Vor drav gor…Morgh. Vor ready drak gra vrakh-vrakh." (You came angry, ready to fight me again and again)

Your lips parted slightly, “I was kidnapped,” you murmured.

He huffed softly under his breath, though the sound carried more amusement than offense. “Yes,” he admitted. “You were.”

His gaze drifted over your face again, lingering in a way that made your pulse quicken.

“But you stayed.” his accent was almost never absent...but his words. What he meant, what he felt...it was all so clear.

"Vor…..Vel-shi…. Vor rakh-shi gra… “ (you are....beautiful….and you are my wife)

The silence that followed felt thick with something neither of you had dared acknowledge until now. You could feel his warmth even without touching him, the quiet strength in the way he stood in front of you.

He had said something to you in his own language. Something longer than the usual short phrases you had learned. The words had come low and steady, his voice carrying a weight that made your chest tighten even though you hadn’t understood most of it.

You recognized pieces.

Your name.

The word for wife.

“You say a whole speech,” you muttered, gesturing between the two of you, “and I only understand three words.”

The corner of his mouth twitched.

“You understood the important ones.”

“That is not helpful,” you shot back, with a soft smile

He watched you for a moment longer, the faint humor in his expression fading into something steadier. Then he tried again.

Slower. Carefully choosing words you might recognize.

“Katsuki… thought… wife, strong, beautiful…gift?,” He lifted his hand and brushed his knuckles lightly along your jaw, as if the gesture might help the meaning land where the words failed. Something warm and nervous twisted low in your chest. His gaze dropped briefly to your mouth, the back to your eyes.

The fire cracked behind you, shadows shifting along the walls as the distance between you seemed to disappear without either of you stepping closer. Your hand was still resting lightly against his chest from earlier. Touch no longer feeling foreign or dangerous with him.

“Vor… stare gra. Threk… what?” You asked as best as you could in his language. (you're staring, what is it?)

His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, rough fingers settling carefully against your skin. His thumb brushed once along the side of your neck, the small movement sending a strange warmth through your chest. As he gaze upon his face and seemingly get lost in his now, soft, red eyes, he means in. Your nose is brushing ever so slightly as his lips touched yours softly at first, almost cautiously, as though he were testing something he had thought about far longer than he intended to admit. The kiss was gentle, but it was not uncertain.

Warmth spread slowly through you as his hand remained at the back of your neck, rough fingers resting against your skin with surprising care. You could feel the restraint in him, the deliberate patience of someone holding himself back even though the quiet heat between you had been building for far too long. Your fingers tightened slightly in the fabric at his chest without you realizing it.

The small movement seemed to encourage him, the kiss deepened. The warmth of his mouth against yours carried a quiet hunger, the kind that had grown slowly through weeks of shared glances, brushed hands, and words learned beside the fire. When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t far. Your foreheads rested together, your breaths mingling in the small space between you. His thumb had begun tracing a slow, absent circle against the back of your neck, as though he had forgotten the motion entirely.

For a moment neither of you spoke. His hands came down to your waist, pulling you closer. His breath becoming ragged as if he were holding himself back. You could not help the sudden grip that was on his clothes. He felt it…and so did you. The storm outside raged on, wind howling against the hut's walls, but inside, the air thickened with heat from the fire and the press of your bodies. Katsuki's large hands slid up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through your thick shift, sending sparks straight to your core.

He captured your lips again, this kiss deeper, more demanding, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to taste you fully. You melted against him, your grip tightening as you felt the hard length of his cock pressing insistently against your thigh through his pants. A soft moan escaped you, vibrating into his mouth, and he answered with a rumble from his chest, his hips grinding forward in a slow, teasing roll.

Breaking the kiss, Katsuki's mouth trailed down your jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck.

"So beautiful," he murmured, mixing his words with yours, the praise husky and reverent. His hands worked quickly now, yanking your shift up and over your head in one fluid motion, exposing your bare skin to the warm glow of the fire. He pulled back to look at you, his eyes devouring every curve. The swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, your thighs clenching together in want.

"Goddess," he breathed, one hand cupping your breast, thumb circling your hardening nipple. "Gra Deva-shi." (my goddess)

You arched into his touch, heat pooling low in your belly as his mouth followed his hands, lips closing around your nipple to suck gently at first, then harder, teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp. Your fingers tangled in his wild hair, urging him on, and he lavished attention on first one breast, then the other, worshipping with his tongue and lips until you were trembling.

"Katsuki… please," you whispered, the plea universal despite the barrier.

He lifted his head, eyes locked on yours, and stood, pulling you up with him. He effortlessly carries you to your shared furs and lays you down gently. In a swift motion, he stripped off his tunic, revealing the broad expanse of his muscled chest, scarred from battles but beautiful in its strength. Never would you have thought he would be so defined....so chiseled, and such a delicious sight to see. His bottoms followed, his thick cock springing free, heavy and veined, already leaking at the tip. Your throat dried, your heart raced in your ears, your skin shuddered in the best way. A shiver ran from your spine to your pussy, already starting to throb at the sight of him.

You reached for him instinctively, wrapping your hand around his shaft, stroking from base to head. He groaned, head falling back for a moment before his hand covered yours, guiding you in a firmer rhythm.

"Vel… vek gra...Vek threk vor." he urged, voice strained. (Yes...good...touch what is yours)

He backed you to lay back on the soft furs, following he kneel between your thighs. His hands spread your legs wide, calloused palms stroking the soft skin of your inner thighs before his thumbs parted your folds, exposing your slick pussy to his gaze.

"Threk keth vel gra, threk nak? Rakh-shi" (this pussy is ready for me, isn't it my wife?)

He said, a note of awe in his tone, and dipped his head to lick a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. Your back almost instantly arches off of the furs as you cried out, hips bucking as his tongue delved deeper, lapping at your juices like a man starved. He sucked your clit into his mouth, flicking it with precise strokes, while two thick fingers pushed inside you. Pumping and stretching your tight walls, you could only image what his cock was going to be like.

"K-Katsuki! R-righ there! Oh… Deva…" you wanted him to know just how much pleasure you felt, throwing in some words to get your message across. (Oh gods!)

A deep groan from his chest urged him on, the pleasure built fast, your body coiling tight under his relentless attention. You gripped his hair, pulling him closer, and he hummed against you, the vibration sending you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed through you, pussy clenching around his fingers as you came with a shattered moan, flooding his mouth with your release. He drank it all, not stopping as he lapped at your wet folds. Feeling the delicious throb of your clit against his hot tongue, until you were limp and panting.

He pants as he sat back on his heels. Wiping the rest of your cum on the back of his hand. His cock throbbing as he positioned himself at your entrance. He leaned down, forehead pressing to yours again, that intimate connection grounding you both in this moment. He whispered against your lips,

"Sun-nar vel… gra vek vor gra. Y/N." and you nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist. (I will make you mine tonight… Y/N.)

With a slow thrust, he pushed inside, his thick cock stretching your still-pulsing walls. You both groaned at the fullness, the way he filled you completely. He paused, buried to the hilt, letting you adjust, his hands roaming your body. Stroking your sides, your hips, worshipping every inch wordlessly. He starting to move in deep, measured strokes. The rhythm built gradually, his hips snapping forward with increasing force, the slap of skin on skin echoing in the hut. His low groans in his chest only made your pussy clench tighter and your juices coat his cock more and more. The howling of the wind the only other noise to muffle it out.

Your nails digging into his back, the language barrier forgotten in the symphony of your moans and his grunts.

"Please...Please oh god harder! Please Katsuki~" you gasped, and he understood, pounding into you with a ferocity that shook the furs beneath you. Pulling back to the tip and slamming back into you, the force of his cock making your tits bounce with every thrust, the tip kissing your cervix.

"Gor! Len vel! Gra rakh-shi! Threk — gra Keth!" he groans as he gripped your hips as he fucked you deeper. (Fuck! So fucking good! My wife! This is my pussy!)

Your second climax ripping through you as your pussy clamped down on his cock, milking him. Katsuki followed with a roar, thrusting deep one last time as he came, hot spurts of cum flooding your depths in a creamy rush. He held himself there, grinding slowly as he emptied inside you, his breath ragged against your neck. You could feel the way your walls milked his cock, drips of his cum slowly seeping out. His lips kissed your shoulder softly as pushed himself up again. He was far from done...

After a moment, he pulled out, a mix of your juices and his cum leaking from your pussy. He flipped you onto your hands and knees, hands gripping your hips as he admired the view.

"More," he said simply, and slid back in, the new angle letting him go even deeper. His large hand grabbed your ass cheek roughly, spreading the flesh to watch his cock pump in and out of your tight hole. His cock covered in your juices and his cum as he pushed himself in to the hilt. This round was rougher, more primal, his pace relentless as he fucked you from behind, one hand reaching around to pinch your nipples, the other spanking your ass lightly to punctuate his thrusts.

All these sensations at once filled your senses, losing control, and letting him have his way with you . Your hands fisted the furs, you jaw slack, nothing but whimpers came from your lips. Every thrust, every inch was pure ecstasy.

"Vor vek gra len vel," he praised, leaning over you to kiss your shoulder, his teeth grazing the skin. (You take me so well)

The intimacy of his body covering yours, the emotional pull of his voice. You pushed back against him, chasing the building pressure, and he reached down to finger your clit again, drawing out whimpers in your tongue that he echoed with his own. Your third orgasm built slower but hit harder, your walls fluttering around him as you body shook. You came over his cock as he made sure you rode it out completely. Giving you a few final deep thrust, almost as if he were telling you who owned your pussy. Katsuki chased his release, hips stuttering before he buried himself deep, another creampie spilling into you, warm and abundant. He pulled out slowly and carefully, savoring the moans that spilled from your lips. His cum still attaching your cunt and his tip even as he watched his seed drip out of your pussy.

He collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms, bodies slick and spent. As the storm quieted to a rumble, he traced patterns on your back, murmuring soft praises in a blend of languages,

"mine,"

"Rakh-shi" wife

"Vara" Love

"Kelth" Treasure

The crackling swells, like dried wood tossed into a blazing inferno. After a moment, it fades, and out comes a quiet, "What you are, I was. What I am..."

"You will be." Dottore huffs and taps the outer shell. "You sound...scattered."

"Oh, forgive me," you sneer, voice now far sharper, "but there's been quite the disturbance on my end due to someone's interference."

Dottore scoffs, though his amusement is palpable in his voice. "And who was it who assisted you in achieving such a state in the first place?"

"...Fuck off." Your voice still ripples with amusement, as it did centuries ago. If he still had any doubts it wasn't you, it would have vanished at the swear. "Now what do you want?"

"How has your memory been?"

"As well as it can be, all things considered. Why?"

The scientist smirks and begins sorting through the binder of papers he'd brought with him today. Much of it contains historical accounts of Inazuman politics Post-Cataclysm, broken up by handwritten entries of Sumeru's own Post-Cataclysm period of academic darkness. He spreads the former across his desk in neat rows as he says, "I believe someone's been replicating your research."

"Oh my, how flattering." The device crackles, a stack of papers rustling as if someone had brushed them aside. It shifts from pile to pile, pausing only when he sets down an old clipping of the Akademiya's newsletter about the disaster at Tataratsuna. "And concerning. What the fuck did you do?"

Dottore scoffs and glares at the open air. "You know how I felt about our replication assignments."

"You always were a little baby about them," you sigh. "Still, I can't believe someone managed to pull a stunt like this. I thought the Sages burnt all of my records after my trial."

"They did."

"Then...the Greater Lord's doing?"

There is a hint of awe in your tone that makes the researcher's eyes roll. "So many years spent beyond the veil and yet you're still so taken by her stolen authority?"

"Yeah, because I don't have my head up my ass. I know how to respect my peers, unlike you." Another stack of papers ruffles, this one covering blacklisted thesis topics. "How else does one become a genius without reading the works of others?"

Dottore huffs again, tidying up the scattered sheets. "If you're hoping to fish a compliment out of me, you're wasting your time."

"Oh, trust me," you sigh, "I have nothing but."

Something grazes his arm, so featherlight and gentle he would have ignored it in any other case. Instead, he turns to his side and makes out the faint outline of your form. In the centuries since your experiment, you'd never figured how to conjure a fully corporeal form. You're already pushing your luck, reaching through your domain and into the Ley Lines to interact with this decaying world.

And yet here you are, standing at his side, poring over information like you had when you and he were mere students.

As 'enlightened' as you've become, Zandik can't help bit think you're still too eager to respond to him whenever he turns on your anchor. But he knows you. You'll just say you took pity on his small mind and deigned to bless him with your infinite wisdom.

At that, Il Dottore retrieves the last key report from the confines of his coat: a weathered journal, treated to maintain its integrity. There is no reason to have it - he's memorized its contents centuries ago. It still makes your laugh ripple from your anchor.

"Compliment received," you say as your spectral form sharpens. "Now, what do you need help with, Zandik?"

It sends a tizzy through the lab.

"I still think it won't matter," 18 mutters as the older segment slips by.

8 rocks on his feet. gripping the edge of the table for support. "Why not? They were the only one who actually kept up with our research."

"Which is precisesly why they won't react when they hear the news. They'd understand." 18 adjusts his mask and nods towards 25, who's still cleaning the scalpel in his hand. "You agree, don't you?"

"Of course," 25 hums. "They weren't exactly reticent when it came to their feelings towards him."

"Vitriol fueled by hormones and academic rivalry," 35 adds with amusement. He eyes his youngest self, whose wide, innocent eyes belie his depravity. It still makes him chuckle. "You'll understand when you're older."

8 frowns behind his mask and turns to the eldest segment. "What do you think, then?"

65 tilts his head, light reflecting off the red lenses of his mask. Age never begets wisdom, they all know that, but 65 was still the one created with the most of Zandik's memories. He would be the best segment by which to base off the original Zandik's feelings.

Unfortunately, they all know that too many variables have been introduced to really be a control, but still.

"They knew Zandik well enough," is his answer eventually. "If they didn't, he wouldn't have bothered to keep that ridiculous machine for so long."

"The old man is sentimental," 35 sneers.

"He was desperate," 18 adds.

65 just pounds his cane against the floor. "And now he's dead."

Rattling draws their attention, 45 returning with a small, mechanical beast in hand. Its one eye flashes as it snaps its beak, and the lab falls impressively silent as your voice filters through the speaker.

"Let me see him."

And despite their earlier protests, it is 18 and 25 who move first. 35 is tempted to protest, just out of habit, but 45 is already handing the machine to its creator as 8 uses the step stool to give you a better angle.

"…Oh, Zandik," you sigh. "You've finally fucking kicked it."

"Finally?" 8 echoes.

"You sound eager," 25 muses.

"Do not talk to me about eagerness, 25." The mechanical creature flutters its wings. "Not when rigor mortis hasn't set in yet."

35 snorts while 8 gently sets you on the table. The cobbled creation had been another experiment by the youngest segment, started suspiciously around when your birthday had been. You still don't have the strength to puppet it fully, but you still hobble around the table with a keen eye until you reach the other side of the body.

"…How strange." Your head jerkily twists and turns to take in the fresh cadaver. "He spoke so much of immortality and…eternity, and now he's just…"

"Dead?" 8 finishes for you. When you nod, he gestures to the other segments gathered at the table. "But we're still here."

"And I think you'd agree if I say that none of you are truly him."

The words are sharp and biting, and the youngest segment almost seems chastised before 18 clears his throat. "Quite defensive for someone you've threatened to end yourself."

"You're only 18. You'll understand when you're older," you say, though the tone is less demeaning than he would have prefered. It makes 35's shoulders tremble with laughter.

"Enough." 65 picks you up, your mechanical body rattling as you sink into his arm. "We're wasting time chatting. Any final words before we continue?"

The lab falls quiet, each segment watching with bated breath. After all, it'd been a question haunting the poor scholar for some time, but its answer would provide no other use than to try and rekindle the compassion he lost as a child. And considering how far he got without it, Zandik had never seen any point in exploring it further.

And now Zandik is dead, and the rest of his segments are eager to hear.

Did you care? Did you consider him something worth mourning? Did you see him as an adversary? An ally? An equal, a friend, a lover?

Did you love him?

And will you miss him now that he's gone?

Your beak opens, mechanical body going still. A faint silhouette forms at the end of the table, ghostly and intangible. It still reaches to graze Zandik's pale hair, soothes his face twisted in agony into something more…human. It is a far gentler touch than the fist 18 remembers swinging into his face, and 35's amusement seems to fade into something pensive.

But 65 proves himself the wisest, because the apparition fades, your mechanical body shuddering to life with a gasp.

"No," you say. "I'd rather not waste your time. It's not often you get to dissect yourself, after all."

And then the mechanical bird goes still, and your warm presence fades with it.

The segments stir, 18 and 25 sharing a satisfied glance while 65 hands the bird back to 45. "See?" 18 says, voice rich with pride. "Nothing."

Neither can you answer his question, despite the fact it’s not that long since the scholar started to acknowledge your presence beyond barked orders and suspicious glances. Actually, you think that him telling you to straighten up must’ve been one of the first things he told you.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you whisper. The lab is quiet, as it often is in the early morning. You could hear a pin drop, but all you hear is your own breathing.

His hands move. Your body threatens to move away, as if your back and his hands were the same poles of a magnet. You’ve never been stabbed but somehow you expect to be now.

Instead, his hands come back down from hovering over your shoulders, slowly, and instead, tentatively, give the tense muscles a slight squeeze. You bite your lip, trying not to make a sound. It soon turns impossible.

“Look at you,” the doctor scoffs, “This is all your fault.”

He kneads your shoulders with surprising care and not so unexpected efficiency. Despite it being painful, you’re aware it is simply the inevitable result of allowing your body to get this bad, not because he’s trying to make his touch painful.

His thumbs run along the column of your cervical spine and you hiss in pain, gripping the edge of the desk tightly.

“You need to relax,” he hisses, “It wouldn’t be this painful if you listened to me.”

You know, you truly do know. Although you did not expect for his words to be anything beyond common courtesy. He didn’t exactly seem like the type to show much care - though you can’t blame him. Your presence here was forced upon him, after all. 

His fingers dig deep into your tissue, he doesn’t seem to mind the embarrassing grunts and whimpers occasionally slipping past your lips. It feels strange. Uncomfortable even, or at least you’d say so if the relief didn’t feel so good. Your muscles give into his demands, all the knots easing under his fingers. 

Still, his movements are rough. His gloves do not make for easy glide, but it’s much better than nothing - an emergency intervention before you would be rendered unusable. You hope Dottore doesn’t realize how severe your condition was, and at the same time you doubt he wouldn’t. 

“Stay here,” he growls, and then his hands are gone.

You feel colder without his body hovering behind yours and his touch on your shoulders that feel like the weight of the world was lifted off them. You almost feel like you could fly. Carefully, you try twisting your neck slightly and feel no pain, no daggers stabbing into the back of your skull.

“Who told you to do that?” 

You jump hearing his voice so close again. He walks with unnatural silence, you missed his approach both times today. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur.

One of his hands rests at the crook of your neck with more force than before, as if pinning you in place. In the next moment it becomes clear that that was indeed the point as you feel a needle prick the back of your neck, easily injecting something into your abused muscles.

“What-”

“It’s just a relaxant,” he informs you, “Nothing to be scared of.”

Well, you are scared nonetheless. His reputation does precede him, after all.

“You’ve been helpful in eliminating the most basic of tasks,” he continues, “Consider this a show of gratitude.”

You wish you could but your mind stutters trying to comprehend that what he had you do he considered basic or that he could sound so bored just mentioning it. You thank him nonetheless.

And as soon as the injection is done and the puncture wound is patched, a list of tasks for today is laid in front of you. Dottore himself leaves to start with his own part of the work waiting to be done.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink, girl,” Nobara says, snatching your jug of addictive red berry wine from you. “You can’t even stand up!” 

You stick your tongue at her and try to prove her wrong by standing up from the barstool, but you nearly trip over your own two feet in your boots and have to grip the bar for balance. Nobara cracks a smile, snickering to herself as she sips her third beer of the night. “Lightweights” she chuckles. 

You gape at her, offended. “Hey, you’re the one who was pushin’ shots at me just an hour ago!” you scoff.

Bourbon shots infused with the tastes of pumpkin pie, caramel, and apple strudel. You may have overdone it by slugging down some berry wine too, but damn, can’t you live? This is a celebration!

You turn towards your other longtime besties that you’ve been celebrating all night with. “Yuji, Megumi, tell her to stop bullying me!” you shout, pouting your glossy lips at them. 

Megumi’s emo, I’m-too-good-for-this ass sits next to you, nursing the same Jack Daniels he’s been sipping on since he got here. “I’ve got nothin'm to do with this,” he grumbles. “I’m just waiting for this idiot to pass out so I can carry him home.” 

He juts a chin at the tall, muscular, pink-haired guy currently dancing around on the floor with the rest of the crowd, skirts spinning, boots stomping, and bodies twirling to the live band playing outside. “Y/N, come dance!” Yuji shouts, waving you towards him. “I need a dance partner!” 

You giggle, immediately moving to join him. But Nobara stops you, grabbing the skirts to your pretty, ruffled dress. “Nu-uh,” she says. “You need to get your ass home and in your bed before you pass out too.”

You turn to her, fixing your dress. It’s the kind that falls off the shoulders and exposes just a bit of cleavage, giving you a very sexy but classy look. You picked it out just for this occasion. “But it’s only midnight!” you whine like a child. “And it’s Hallow’s Eve. I haven’t even been out here long!” 

That’s a lie and Nobara knows it because she, Megumi, and Yuji have been with you since the festival began 6PM sharp…but everyone in your village knows that festivals don’t start until nightfall. That is when the drinks start flowing and the real entertainment begins. 

Hallow’s Eve is a big holiday in your small village and is considered the peak of autumn. A time of fun in your village…but it is also a time of caution. Traditionally, all of the villagers gather together in the town square to set up vendors, have costume contests, and drink at cheap prices. It is your way of building community and celebrating the holiday. 

But behind all of that fun is something less bright and cheery. Home-cooked goods are set beside statues and burial sites as offerings. Candles are lit. Garlic is set outside windows and on door knockers. The festival is shut down after midnight and everyone is home before dawn. 

Your village is very superstitious. Almost everyone here believes in ghosts, ghouls, and evil spirits. Hallow’s Eve is considered a night where all spirits and creatures are at their most powerful and rise from the depths of Hell to wreak havoc on those who do not heed warnings. 

But you don’t believe in that bullshit. You never have. When you come home at night, never have you been snatched up by a ghost or spooked by a demon. You work at your favorite herb shop making good money, date, pay your bills, and mind your business. You don’t indulge in any kind of superstitions that your fellow villagers do.

Besides, da fuck you look like cutting your Hallow’s Eve night short all because of some supernatural BS when you should be drinking, flirting, and forgetting about your ex?

“You’ve been out here since 6PM, you drunk!” Nobara argues. “And I won’t be dragging your ass home like I did last time at the summer solstice fest!” 

“Actually, that was me who dragged her home,” Megumi sassily replies. “You just carried her purse.” Nobara scoffs, rolling her one eye since the other is behind an eyepatch. “Oh, same thing! I still helped!” Megumi runs a hand through his spiked, black hair and tries to argue, but a jug of ale slamming onto the bar stops him. 

“Leave the girl alone, Nobara,” Yuji scoffs, coming over to the table for a drink “Besides, she still has to look for some fun to take home tonight." He turns to you grinning. "Give me the deets, girl! You scoop up a hot guy yet?"

“Why, thank you,” you giggle, twirling your hair. “And no, definitely not in this tiny ass town." Yuji laughs into his drink. “Totally agree. You won’t be finding your next prospect here in this dump.” Nobara titters, winking at you. “That’s why I travel.” 

You don’t want to tell them that you won’t travel just for a quick fuck and that every single one of your prospects in your little village have been lackluster or below average in the bedroom.

"But you need a hot guy to replace your garbage ex,” Yuji scoffs. “Honey, that man wasn’t anything short of trash!” The buzz from the alcohol suddenly dissipates a bit, leaving you feeling tired. “Tell me about it,” you grumble. 

Megumi and Nobara glare at Yuji and if looks could kill, he'd be dead. "Read the room, Itadori," Megumi whispers. Yuji gasps, covering his mouth. “Oops! My bad, Y/N, I wasn't thinking.” 

You crack a smile despite your stomach flipping at the mention of your ex who dumped your ass almost a year ago for a new prospect in the next town over. As a traveling writer looking for his new big break, your ex often told you stories of women who flirted with him…but you didn’t expect it to work one day. 

After two years of dating, he came to you, admitted that he wasn’t happy, and a week later, you found him on the front page of the newspaper with a famous singer’s daughter. You were devastated, to say the least. Even more so when you realized just how toxic, immature, and horrible of a lover he really was. 

After that, you bounced from guy to guy, dating some, fucking some, ghosting some or some ghosting you. You’re tired of hitting and missing. If you don't get something that knocks your socks off, you don't want it. Life is too short for mediocre romance and sex. 

“It’s cool,” you say to Yuji. “Plus, I’ve done the dating and hookup thing. It’s all getting old for me. I want someone who’s really gonna satisfy me, y’know? Someone exciting. Someone who will make every boring man in this town look subpar.” 

Nobara snorts, tossing an arm around you and squeezing you close to her blouse. “I don’t know about that one, but if you want romance, there's always a love potion you can buy."

You down the rest of your wine before slipping out of Nobara’s hold and grabbing your cloak. “Aaaand on that note, I’m headin’ home. Thanks for tonight, y’all! I’ll see y’all in the afterlife.”

Yuji swoops in on you and wraps you up in a big, sweaty hug. “Be careful out there, Y/N!” he yells in your ear over the music. “Ya never know what’s out there.” 

Your friends bid you farewell before you leave the cramped tavern and travel through the throng of vendors, entertainers, and guests meandering among the closed-off streets coated in orange streamers, carved pumpkins, and colorful leaves. The air is crisp and fresh with autumn and the night is dark, only lit by some gas lamps lining the streets. 

“Hon, you don’t have to follow me,” you say, not even turning around. “I literally live right up the road.” You can sense Nobara behind you despite her quiet footfall in her ankle boots. You opted for the sexy knee-high boots to pick somebody up, but that plan fell through. 

“No, it’s not that,” she argues, catching up with you to stand by your side. “I wanted us to chat! Real talk, Y/N, and be honest: do you really not wanna date anymore after your ex?” 

You keep your eyes trained on the trail as the festival gives way to quiet businesses closed for the night. “It’s not that, but he’s part of it. I don’t wanna waste my time and get hurt like that again.” You cross your arms under your cloak where your leather clutch is, hugging yourself. 

“Then what about just sticking to sex?” Nobara asks. “When’s the last time you hooked up with a guy?”

You heavily sigh, depressed by the thought. You gave up on all of this a month ago and haven’t been with any guy since. “A month ago and that was all I needed to see that hookup culture ain’t for me anymore. He was awful! He didn’t even try to get me off and had the nerve to use my shower without asking when he was done bending me over.” 

Nobara giggles despite your sob story. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want good sex. I want great sex! I want someone to take me on a bed and make me see God.” 

Though you manage to get yourself off fine, your fingers and erotic books can only do so much for a girl. You feel like you’ve been failing miserably without sex…especially sex with a partner who is interested in pleasing YOU, not just themselves. 

“Well, that’s a testimony if I ain’t heard one before,” Nobara laughs, her footfalls falling in line with yours on the cobblestone. You nod, looking up at the clear, starry sky above. “I guess I’m just….waiting. I’m tired of searching and getting disappointed.” 

Nobara stops suddenly and so do you, turning to her. She places a comforting hand on your shoulder and squeezes. “Well, just know that you deserve better than anyone I know.”

You smile at your friend and press a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll take that with me on the way home.” You turn, walking away with a click of your boots. “And don’t follow me! I’m a big girl!” 

Nobara listens and watches you trot away down the path to your home. But just as you’re about to turn the corner to go through the woods, she stops you. “Y/N!” she calls. You turn, looking at her expectantly. Her lips press into a thin line. “Just be careful, okay?” 

You scoff, cocking your head at her. “Oh, not you too! Is the town's superstition rubbing off on you?”

You laugh, but Nobara doesn’t. “Look, I’m just saying! It’s Hallow’s Eve and you know people can get crazy…plus, you never know what’s lurking out there.” 

She looks into the woods, her expression uncertain and…scared. You’ve never seen her look like that before. But then again, living in a village where people believe in the supernatural will condition you. You strut towards your friend and hug her close to your body.

“Kusaki, I’m fine. I’m just up the road and I promise I’ll go around the deep, dark, scary woods. Now go back and scoop Yuji up.” You release her and give her a wink before strutting off down the path, your boots clicking across the cobblestone.

“Hey,” she calls after you. “If you happen to see a hot piece of ass on the way home, take him back with you.” You turn around and blow her a kiss. “Will do! I’ll make sure to send him to you when I’m done!”

She laughs and waves to you as you depart, heading home along the trail, not knowing who...or what...is about to come for you. 

***************

As you walk on the trail back home in the dead of night, you feel a pang of guilt for your words to Nobara. They could damn well be the last words you ever say to her.

You feel bad for lying to your friend, but the last thing you need is a lecture or to be afraid of a trail you’ve taken thousands of times. The trail cutting the woods is easier than going around it, so you find yourself doing just that, humming a tune as you do. 

You don’t pay attention to how the forest looks like something out of a horror film, like how the leafless branches on the trees look like skeletal fingers stretching towards the sky or how the stars are now behind ominous clouds that hang above you like— 

CRUNCH.  

You skid to a stop, looking behind you. All that moves are the branches in the autumn breeze. Could that have been you? Maybe you stepped on a branch you didn’t see. 

Though a bit frazzled, you continue on your way until you hear distant voices. As you get closer, the trees give way to a clearing where five kids decked out in Halloween costumes stand. “Fuck,” you sigh. Just what you need tonight. And it’s just a coincidence that this is happening on your trail home. 

You conceal yourself behind a nearby tree, peeking through the leaves. Four are standing in a circle while the other stands in the middle of some kind of drawing in the grass. You can’t make out what it is, but you know that it’s suspicious. Any kid outside past midnight is up to no good.

“No, no, Billy!” one of the kids dressed as a vampire yells. “You’re supposed to pour the pig’s blood before you say the words!” 

Billy, the big kid in the middle wearing a devil costume, turns towards the vampire, holding a bucket. “Shut up! I know what the fuck I’m doin’!” 

You come out from behind the tree and walk towards them as they bicker. “Hey,” you say, putting some bass in your voice. “What are y’all doing?” 

Each boy looks toward you, shocked to see you there. Billy scoffs, smirking at you with a face full of freckles. ”None of your business, grandma.” The vampire and poorly-made werewolf snicker at their friend. Billy must be the leader. 

“Grandma?” You scoff, putting a hand on your hip. “What are you, eight? Obviously, since you’re still wearin’ costumes at your big age.” 

Now all four of the boys, including a cowboy and a bedsheet ghost, laugh. Billy turns as red as his cape. “Shut up!” he snaps. “I said get lost or you’ll be sorry.” He glowers at you, tossing the bucket aside. 

You aren’t at all fazed. “Bitch, I live over here. This is how I get home and I’m not about to let some knuckleheads terrorize my neighborhood with…” You motion a hand over them. “Whatever this is.” 

“It’s just a game,” the ghost says. “That’s all we’re doing.” You raise a brow at him. “What kind of game? One that calls for pig’s blood and some type of speech?” 

The boys grow quiet, especially when Billy slips a pocket knife out of his cape. “I said. Get lost, lady. Now. Or I’ll gut you like a—“ 

“No, you get lost,” you growl, trying to sound and look as menacing as possible. “And take your little friends with you. My mother is a witch and I know some speeches myself that can make your eyes bleed and your skin peel.” 

Billy scoffs and defiantly rolls his eyes, but when you begin to chant something in a nonsense language, he just about shits himself. “Shit, man, run!” the cowboy yells as he and the others take off. Billy stares at you wide-eyed before finally running off, leaving the bucket. 

Once they’re gone, you stop chanting and laugh. “Idiots,” you chuckle. Now alone, you check out the scenery for yourself and walk towards the drawing. It is big, crude, and written in red liquid with multiple lines, each one connecting into a big star you stand in the middle of. 

You scoff when you realize what it is: “Seriously? A pentagram?! Those little shits were tryna summon a demon!” 

You then giggle drunkenly. “Maybe I should conduct a ritual myself, see if I can summon some good dick. That’s a damn shame: me summoning a whole demonic being just to get laid.” 

You’re aware that you’re talking to yourself out in the woods like a crazy person, but you’re so drunk that you can’t stop. “It’s just so hard to find someone exceptional,” you groan. “Damn men. Damn my ex. Damn this small village. Damn this shitty dating pool! How much longer can I date myself?” 

You turn to the overcast night sky and spread your arms wide, lamenting to the Gods above. “I’d give anything to have someone put me through the mattress! I’d fuck a ghoul, a goblin, hell, even a fucking demon! Anyone—just please FUCK ME!” 

Your voice echoes across the clearing before fading away, replaced by a lone owl hooting. You truly are alone. 

CRUNCH.

Or are you? You abruptly turn around and stare into the dark, lush forest, peering through the trees. “Hello?” you call. 

Nothing responds. “Listen, if you caught any of that, just know that I’m drunk and I didn’t really mean it, so…please don’t follow me. I really do know some spells.” Still, you get nothing but the wind. 

“You’re losin’ it, girl,” you whisper to yourself. “You’ve gotta lay off the wine.” Quickly, you tighten your cloak around yourself and hurry down the trail, your footsteps brisk and fast. 

When you finally get home to your cozy little cottage, you lock the door and kick off your boots, finally freeing your tired feet. 

Cinnabon, your pet cat, greets you with a meow and you return the favor with some scratches and treats for her. You don’t even remember going upstairs to your bedroom. All you remember is darkness. 

You never usually wake up in the middle of the night. You’re usually out like a light. But at this particular time on this particular night you do…and you don’t like it. When you awaken, you’re still in your clothes from the festival with a splitting headache and in total darkness. Only the silvery moon shines through your bedroom window. 

You don’t know what makes you wake up or why you feel so on edge, but you do. The fine hairs on the back of your neck stand up and your heart won’t slow down. It’s as if something is lurking within the darkness of your bedroom and you’re just waiting for it to reveal itself. 

Then you hear it: running water. Like something—or someone—is in here with you. “H-Hello?” You stammer, staring at your bedroom door. “Cinnabon, is that you?” 

Then you hear something else: a very soft moan. You gasp and quickly turn around, finding a lump under your duvet. It shifts and finally moves, taking the warm cover off of it.

Beneath it lies a very beautiful and very unfamiliar man. Shirtless. With nothing on him but briefs. 

When he sits up out of his slumber, you realize how tall he is—he is at least a head taller even though he’s sitting down. He’s also big. Big pecs where two silver balls glitter on his nipples, big arms where one is inked in dark tattoos; big hands, big arms sinewy with veins…probably even bigger below. 

Your eyes trail down to his muscular thighs and washboard stomach before trailing up to his handsome face, snow-white hair, and ice-blue eyes that are framed by long, white lashes. He is gorgeous. Truly a beautiful man…a beautiful man who is also a stranger in your bed with two big horns jutting out of his head and a pointed tail that curls around your thighs. 

“Cinna-who?” he groggily asks. 

A scream bubbles up in your chest, but you can’t release it. It’s like your brain won’t let you. 

All you can do is freeze and stare in horror at the stranger, trying to piece together the past events. Did you meet him at the festival and forget? Did you take him home? Did you— 

The water shuts off and the sound of creaking footsteps makes its way to the bedroom door. 

Creeeeeak. 

The door opens, revealing a very big, horned, shadowy figure standing in the doorway. When he enters, you don’t know whether to be afraid or aroused. He is just as attractive as the white-haired stranger in your bed with long, black hair tied into a bun and violet eyes that gaze into yours across the room. 

He is big and misdialed too—big pecs the size of watermelons; big arms and biceps inked with tattoos and pierced nipples; thick, tree-trunk thighs that lead up to toned, mouth-watering abs dripping in water; big feet and hands that grip one of your bath towels around his slim waist. 

He, too, also has giant horns jutting out of his scalp and a pointed tail that sways between his legs. 

“Sorry,” he sighs, his lip ring glittering as he gives you an apologetic smile, “but I think I used up all of that shea butter soap in your shower. Is that what makes you smell so good?” 

Finally, the scream inside of you escapes you. You jump off of the bed in horror and snatch the bat that you keep by your bed. Both men react in total confusion and alarm as you cower in the corner, holding the bat out for protection. “Stay away,” you warn. “D-Don’t come near me!” 

The long-haired stranger puts his hands up in defense. “Alright, alright, let’s just calm down, sweetness.” Neither one of them moves, probably afraid of scaring you even more. 

“Don’t call me that!” You demand, pointing the bat at him while glaring at the sexy ass blue-eyed man kneeling on your bed. “And don’t tell me to calm down! Who are you?! How’d you two get in here?!” 

Both men look at each other questionably. “Don’t you remember, baby?” The blue-eyed stranger asks, albeit flirtatiously. “You called for us. You specifically said you’d let even a demon fuck you.” 

His soft-looking lips curl into a seductive, teasing smile that fills your stomach with warm, fuzzy tingles that you ignore. 

Your brain, still slightly fogged from your slumber, tracks back to when you were in the forest. You damn near facepalm yourself. You did say that…very loudly. And someone clearly heard you because now they’re both standing in your bedroom. 

“And here we are,” the blue-eyed hottie chuckles. “Lucky for you, we like our humans desperate and needy. Ain’t that right, Sugu?” 

The fine-ass long-haired specimen standing in your towel that is dangerously low on his narrow hips slowly nods his head. He doesn’t speak, but his eyes, so molten hot and lustful, say everything. 

“Oh, by the way, I’m Satoru,” the white-haired hottie says, flashing you an award-winning smile. “Last name Gojo. That’s Geto Suguru, just in case you like to scream names during sex. Pet names work for us too though! I love being called ‘Daddy’ or—“ 

“Wait, wait,” you interrupt, putting a hand out to stop him. Your brain is trying to process this newfound information as quickly as possible. “Are you telling me that y’all two…are demons?” 

The two slowly, silently nod, sizing you up with their intense gazes. But they grow confused when you begin to laugh, practically doubling over from it. “That’s funny,” you say in a fit of giggles. “C’mon, stop playin’ and just leave, okay? I know it’s Hallow’s Eve and all, but to break into a single girl’s home isn’t—“ 

Suddenly, you find yourself pinned against the wall and Suguru’s big, clawed hand wrapped around your neck. You don’t even have time to gasp because of how fast he is. Did he teleport? 

The scent of your shea butter soap and something spicy wafts off of him, flooding your nostrils. “Does this look funny to you, sweetness?” he whispers, his lips close to your ear. 

You don’t speak, your mouth frozen in a frightened O. 

Slowly, Suguru takes the bat from you and sets it down. You let him. Satoru comes over too, smirking. “This isn’t fake either.” He takes your hand and places it on his horn which is smooth like granite. “We’re the real deal, little girl, so you’d better show us some respect since we’re here to please you.” 

It’s like a record scratches as soon as he says it. You close your mouth and blink away your terrified tears. “P-Please me?” you ask, confused. “You’re not here to kill me or e-eat me?” 

The two demons look at each other again and begin to laugh. Even their laughter is sexy. “Nah, we don’t get down like that,” Suguru chuckles, gently releasing you. “Some bloodthirsty demons are, but not us.” 

“Mmm-hmm,” Satoru hums, his eyes seductive. “We would rather eat you up in another way that will satisfy both of us.” 

You can’t deny the way your body reacts to his bold words. Your nipples grow embarrassingly tight under your dress. Your stomach flips with need. And your pussy? A damn flood. 

“We’re incubi,” Suguru explains. “Sex demons. We feed off of humans’ sexual energy to survive and gain more power.” 

Your eyes widen, your stomach dropping. “Sex demons?!” you yelp, pushing yourself further into the wall. You press a hand to your head as if that will help. “Oh, God, I really fucked up. This has to be a dream or I’m unconscious.” 

Satoru takes your hand off of your head and places his own bigger, calloused one on your face. Your cheeks blaze at the contact and the ocean blue of his eyes. “If this is a dream then it’s the sweetest one, dont’cha think?” He teasingly coos. “Havin’ two men all to yourself? I’d be so thankful if I were you.” 

His smile drops as his thumb begins to caress your bottom lip. ”Are you not thankful to have us here, baby?” he asks, actually sounding saddened by the idea. Even Suguru looks disappointed, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. The sight is damn near erotic. 

You feel bad about letting the incubi down, but this CANNOT happen to you. “Um, listen…Satoru? Suguru?” Gently, you take Satoru’s hand off of your cheek. “I appreciate the offer, but I didn’t really mean all of that. I was just drunk, plus I don’t feel comfortable doing this being that y’all are demons and all.” 

Satoru raises an eyebrow at you and crosses his beefy arms over his best. “Are you discriminating against us?” he pointedly asks. 

Suguru rolls his eyes, nudging him in the side. “Ignore him. We can understand your hesitation, but we’re not gonna ask you for your soul if that’s what concerns you…however, you automatically created a contract with us the moment you summoned us.” 

The mention of a “contract” scares you out of your wits. A contract does not belong in the context of a demon. “How?” you whisper, but you’re not sure if you want to know the answer. 

A humored smirk slides onto Suguru’s lips and you think he even pulls his towel down farther to show off the snake tattoo slithering up his left hip bone. You’re embarrassed to think about how far it goes down. 

“You said you’d fuck a demon, babe. It’s as simple as that. Us incubi always go for desperate mortals who are unsatisfied with their sex lives and need to be laid down and filled up. You fit the fuckin’ bill.” 

His violet eyes roll over your form, making you feel exposed. “And disagreeing isn’t an option unless you want us to haunt you for the rest of your days,” Satoru adds. “When you summon a demon, you have to successfully complete your end of the deal or else they stay latched to you.” 

And that’s what you were afraid of. Curse you and your alcohol intake! “What’s my end?” you sigh, pinching your sinuses. 

The two big, sexy demons towering over you smirk in your face. “You fuck us till we’re satisfied,” Satoru smirkingly answers. “And we do the same for you. You cum as many times as we want you to because we know your body needs it while we feed off of your orgasms until we get our fill. Then, and only then, will we leave.” 

Suguru’s gaze grows soft, understanding of your reluctance. “No funny business. No taking your soul. None of that. We just want you to feel good tonight.” His voice is soft yet sexy, promising you endless pleasure. “So do we have a deal, little human?” 

The demons raise their brows expectantly, waiting for an answer. 

You’re still unsure about fucking a sex demon…let alone two! You’ve never had a threesome before, but you’ve fantasized about them. 

Plus, the idea of being sandwiched between two men much bigger than you who are devoted to your pleasure doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Two soft lips. Four veiny, calloused hands. Two skillful tongues. Two big, fat, throbbing c— 

“Okay,” you huff. “If I agree to fuck you both, you won’t show up here ever again?” 

Satoru shrugs, nodding. “Unless you summon us again, but yeah, essentially. We don’t show up where we’re not wanted, baby.” He gives you a lopsided smile, cocking his head to the side. It’s ridiculous how sexy it is. “We can give you exactly what you want and need. All you need to say is yes.” 

You don’t want to be haunted forever, so what choice do you have? Plus, though you’d like to admit it, you need some dick ASAP. And you’ve got two right here that are ready and willing to give you some. 

“Fine,” you scoff defeatedly. “You’ve got a deal. but we need to go over some rules. I don’t fuck demons, let alone have threesomes, so this is new to me.” 

Suguru looks pleased while Satoru cackles. ”Oooh, this will be fun!” 

Suguru shushes his partner before giving you a sweet smile. “What are your rules, sweetness?” 

They stay completely silent as you count off each rule on your fingers: “Number one: we use a safeword. Number two: no biting or clawing unless I say so. Number three: I like spanking, hair-pulling, choking, and spitting, but you need to warn me first. And number four: I’d like to be fucked without a condom, but NO cumming inside me. I refuse to have a demon baby like Rosemary.” 

Satoru looks bored but nods regardless. “Understood,” Suguru states, and you exhale, glad that this is starting off so easy for you. 

Maybe this won’t be as horrible as you thought…until Satoru gives you that wicked smirk. “Now get your ass on that bed,” he demands. His tone is so sultry and low that you can’t resist. 

The demons part to let you through and you slowly climb onto the bed, one vertebrae at a time. 

The incubi look down at you, the silver moonlight illuminating their lustful eyes, delicious muscles, and silver balls glinting from their hard, suckable nipples. Their pecs are so huge that they’d make great pillows AND motorboat material. 

“There now,” Satoru coos. “Comfy?” Silently, you nod, averting your gaze. 

Satoru doesn’t like that. He grips your chin, forcing you to look at his illegally handsome face. “Good girl. Now come here; let’s give that mouth something else to do besides talk back.” 

He presses his lips to yours and though you initially tense, your body melts into his finally as you fall victim to the kiss. 

Satoru’s kiss is the best you’ve ever experienced. His lips are soft and sweet as they move against yours, dancing with you. There is no fight for dominance because you instantly give him that the more his spell works on you. He begins to moan into your mouth like he can’t handle how perfect this kiss is. You begin to moan as well as his tongue licks your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You allow it and his skillful tongue slides against yours.

As you French kiss, you realize how different Satoru’s tongue feels against yours. You know he has a tongue piercing due to the metallic taste, but you feel something else. Something pointed. 

Satoru has a forked tongue. 

‘Oh, God,’ you think deliriously. 

You find out that Suguru has one too when he comes behind you and begins gently licking and kissing along your neck, giving you a feel of his soft lips combined with his lip ring. You can only imagine how these silver balls will feel on your pussy. 

“We've never had one be so bratty,” Suguru whispers against your neck. He attaches his lips to one sweet spot there, gently nibbling and sucking on it, intending to leave a mark. Satoru hums in agreement, pulling away from the hot, salacious kiss.

You whimper from the loss. “That’ll make breaking you so much hotter,” he chuckles. “Now wasn’t that nice, baby? C’mon, you can say it. I know my kisses are good.” 

You’re completely breathless and dazed. Your skin is hot and buzzing. Your nipples are stiff and your panties are just about soaked…all from a kiss! 

“She hasn’t had me yet,” Suguru gruffly replies behind you. He gently turns your face toward him and begins kissing you too. His lips are just as soft and taste like ripe, juicy berries. You moan and whimper into his mouth, his large hand cupping your cheek. 

You feel the bed dip as Satoru sits down and begins kissing your neck, nuzzling your hair, teasingly moaning in your ear. “Hey,” he coos, “whose kiss is better, I wonder? Him or me?” 

Suguru growls against your lips, irked. He pulls away, a string of saliva hanging on your bottom lips. “Shut up, Satoru. This isn’t about inflating your ego. This is about making this pretty one feel good.” 

Pretty. It’s been so long since you’ve been called such a thing that you shudder. The two demons continue to leave trails of fire on your skin as they kiss up your neck, shoulders, and jaw, until they too grow impatient. “Can we take this off, sweetness?” Sugu asks, tugging at your dress.

Though he is respectful, you can see the wildfire in his eyes imploring you to say yes. “Y-Yes,” you stutter, licking your parched lips. “Just be careful. I like this dress.” 

The demons chuckle, but respect your request and gently begin to undress you. No ripping or tearing despite their long, pointed claws. When you’re finally naked except for your panties, the two demons look ravenously at you in the moonlight. 

“Just as I thought,” Suguru sighs, a pink blush on his cheeks. “You’re damn near perfection.” 

The two immediately sandwich you between their big bodies, hands groping your soft skin. Fingers stroke your sides, stomach, back, and legs, leaving tingles and goosebumps along your body. You moan and gasp, indulging in their bodies as well with your wandering hands. 

You can hardly remember enjoying foreplay this much! Your pussy is practically sobbing now, wanting so much to be stroked the way the rest of your body is. 

At some point, the two begin using their big hands to massage and grope your juicy breasts, using their thick fingers to pinch your hard nipples. Feeling their forked tongues and cold metal piercings against your sensitive peaks is a pleasure beyond words. It’s intense and explosive. 

You squeak in pleasure at the delicious sting, earning two tongue baths in response against your nipples. “That’s it, little lady,” Suguru murmurs. “Cry out for us. We’ve got you.” 

Coaxing you to do so, Satoru slowly slides a hand down between your thighs and presses his long fingers against your wet pussy. You gasp at the zing of pleasure that shoots from your core up to your head and throughout your fingers and toes. All he has to do is pull the thin fabric to the side to sink his fingers in and— 

Satoru takes a nibble of your ear, sucking on your earlobe, and one last squeeze of your breast. “Bend over, baby,” he orders, his blue eyes ablaze with mirth. “Get that pretty ass in the air.” 

Under his and Suguru’s spell, you assume the position: face down, ass up, much to their enjoyment. 

SPANK!

You yelp in surprise at the burning sensation of a hand slapping your asscheek. You turn to look at a sheepish Satoru. “Sorry, baby, but I had to sneak a surprise one in.” 

You can’t be too mad at him when your pussy is so wet from the assault. “It’s okay,” you whisper. “Just ask next time.” 

The demon smiles, gently running his hand down the cheek he smacked. “May I spank that pretty ass of yours then?” He asks, his tone teasing and sultry sweet. Jerkingly, you nod and the demon hums in satisfaction before raising his hand up again. 

SPANK!

Surprising both yourself and the demons, a loud moan escapes you at the sweet burn. Satoru laughs, jiggling your asscheeks and enjoying the recoil. “Oooh, there’s a moan!” he cackles. “You like that, naughty girl? You want another one?” 

You weakly stare up at him, your body aflame from the spanks. 

Suguru, however, stops him. “Stop hogging her, Satoru. I want a piece of that too.” His big hand trails down your ass to give it a squeeze. 

Soon, both demons are massaging your ass which translates well with your already-wet pussy. “Let’s have a little competition then: whoever makes this cutie louder wins,” Satoru says, a teasing glint in his eye. 

Suguru gives him a smile that mirrors the exact same glint in those blue eyes. He then raises his hand above your butt and then brings it down hard against your asscheek, making it jiggle. Satoru follows suit, bringing his palm down a little harder each time to one-up his partner.

SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! 

The same sharp sound of their palms hitting your soft globes of flesh fills the bedroom along with each gasp, moan, and whimper that escapes you. 

You can’t believe you’re getting sobbing wet off of getting hit. Neither of them are even touching your pussy yet…until they do. Satoru decides to give your ass a break and experiment with your pussy instead. 

He gives it a light love tap over your soaked panties and both demons find enjoyment in the adorable yelp you let out….literally. If you could see them, you’d notice how hard they’ve become just from the sounds you make. 

“Ooooh, you like getting spanked here too, baby?” Satoru chuckles. “So fuckin’ cute.” He does it again, humming pleasurably at the way your body jumps and your pussy twitches.

“Mmm, that’s enough, I think. Her pussy certainly thinks so.” The tension in the air has grown thick as the scent of your arousal wafts through the air, intoxicating the two horny demons. 

Satoru does the honors of pulling your panties to the side, revealing your glistening, puffy, soft pussy to them. The demons practically groan at the sight. “You’re so pretty down here, baby,” Suguru murmurs. You feel two of his thick fingers caress your sensitive lips, causing you to moan at the soft touch. 

You’ve never been this sensitive. This needy. This desperate. 

“Please,” you whimper. Satoru leans in to hear you better, his lips toying with your ear. “Please what, baby? We can’t give you what you want if you don’t ask for it.”

His forked tongue slithers out to caress your earlobe, sending chills down your spine while Suguru toys with your pussy, gently rubbing your clit around and around. 

You know you’re going to regret these words, but you’re too desperate to care. You rise up on your arms and look back at them, desperation all over your pretty face. “Please…taste me, Daddies.” 

Now you can see the two matching tents appearing underneath Satoru’s boxers and Suguru’s towel. The duo looks at each other before smirking deviously. “Oh…you want both?” Satoru chuckles. “Freaky. I like that. How do you feel about getting two forked tongues, hm?” 

You don’t have time to agree or refuse…not that you would refuse. You need something to give you relief and the idea of having two tongues in your pussy is tempting, to say the least. 

You let the two flip you over onto your back and spread your thighs apart, their greedy eyes glittering at you in the darkness of your bedroom only illuminated by the moonlight cutting through your window. 

Unfortunately for Suguru, Satoru takes up most of your cunt at first. He’s a greedy motherfucker, massaging your ass as he tongue fucks your pussy, filling you up and tasting you in a way unlike no man could ever do. 

You can’t explain it—the way the forked tips of his tongue tickle and stimulate each sweet spot inside of you; the way the sensitive bundles in your clit sing when his nose swipes against it; the way your body squirms and your thighs quiver under his hands as he spreads you open for him. 

“Oh, fuck!” you whine. “Fuck!” Your voice echoes throughout the bedroom, mingling with the lewd, wet sounds of Satoru’s sloppy eating. His blue eyes pierce up at you through the V of your thighs, staring into your soul as he drinks your pleasure.

“That’s it, baby, scream for me. You sound so, so pretty.” He pauses to give your pussy a long lick, his forked tongue sliding against your puffy lips. “I bet no man has tongue fucked you like this, have they?” 

You weakly shake your head, your eyes rolling from the immense pleasure. Sweet Lords in Heaven and Hell, this man can eat pussy! You see stars and space behind your eyelids as Satoru slurps on your cunt, spitting on it before slurping it back up and resuming his eating. 

Tired of watching him have his fun, Suguru shoves him out of the way and kneels between your thighs. “Greedy bitch,” he scoffs. “Move out the way. It’s my turn to taste that pussy.” The demon gives you a wink before he dives between your legs. 

You were wrong about no man having eaten your pussy like Satoru. Suguru takes the cake with that. His lips are pillowy-soft and feel like satin against your sensitive pussy lips. Even his lip ring, as cold as it is, feels good on your needy clit as his forked tongue slides between your lips to explore your little hole. 

“Shit!” you moan, gripping the sheets for dear life. “Fuck yes, Suguru! You’re so good at this!” 

The long-haired demon smirks up at you, his chin and mouth glistening in your juices. “Thank you, baby,” he coos, ignoring Satoru’s smoldering glare next to him. 

“Hey, no fair!” he whines. “Y/N didn’t say my name while I was down there!” He forces Suguru to move over. “C’mon, Sugu, scoot over. We need to share.” 

Much to his dismay, Suguru shares your cunt and soon, you have two sets of skillful forked tongues and lips on your pussy, making you feel things you’ve never felt before. Claws dig into your skin, fangs nip at your lips, and moans send vibrations throughout your pussy that you shake, quake, and ache.

“Oh, my God, yes!” you wail. “Like that! Keep going!” 

Your hands grip the demons’ hair and horns, causing their cocks to grow harder. The amount of wetness and sounds you’re giving them are fulfilling every ounce of power they need as well as increasing their arousal.

“So vocal,” Satoru chuckles. “I love my girls extra slutty like that.” He pauses to press a kiss to your mound, making you twitch. “Speakin’ of slutty, does my baby need somethin’ else?” 

Yes. God, yes, do you. 

“After we make her cum,” Suguru growls, tongue still licking away. “I want that orgasm first.” 

Together, the two of them work to bring you over the edge, their tongues flicking wildly against you and inside of you. It doesn’t take long for you to reach your peak. Your clit begins swelling and the knot in your core tightens until it threatens to snap. 

Your back arches off of the bed as loud wails leave you. “OhmyGodI’mgonnacum!” you sob, speaking so fast that your words become one jumbled, messy sentence. 

Satoru lifts his gaze to stare at you, his blue eyes glowing. “What’s the magic word, baby?” He teases. 

Suguru looks at you too, his violet eyes drawing you in further until your mind is mush. “Please!” You nearly scream to the heavens. “Please, Daddies, make me cum!” 

That’s all the demons needed to hear. They work their jaws faster, their tongues slashing across your clit and against the underside of it inside you while pressing down on your pelvis. 

When your orgasm hits you, it hits you like a ton of bricks. You don’t make any noise as it washes over you, but when it finally settles into your body, you let out the loudest moan you’ve ever heard yourself make. 

You’ve never felt something so intense before. It spreads throughout your fingers and toes, and courses through your veins and bones. Like you’re coming for Mariah Carey’s career, you sing high notes that are so loud that you’re sure the Devil below can hear it. 

The demons slurp up everything you give them…which is a lot. Your pussy gushes around their tongues and on their soft lips, more and more leaking out because of your grinding hips. 

It is the best orgasm you’ve ever had…so far. When it finally fades and you’re soaring through the clouds, your hips lower and your soul re-enters your body again. Satoru and Suguru finally finish cleaning you up, they look 100% rejuvenated and replenished, licking your essence off of their lips. 

Satoru sighs, stretching his arms over his head. “I feel better already,” he sighs, “but now I’ve got an even bigger problem.” 

Suguru concurs, staring down at the tent forming beneath his towel. Satoru fixes you with a lustful gaze, a playful smirk on his lips. “You wanna see what a real cock looks like, cutie?” He asks. 

Slowly, you nod, panting from the intense orgasm. 

With lust and mirth in their eyes, the demons slowly strip themselves in front of you. Suguru unwraps his towel while Satoru pulls down his briefs, showing off their lickable V-lines and happy trails. 

Then, finally, two big, fat, throbbing, rock-hard cocks pop out from their hiding spots and present themselves to you. Each pink head drips with pre-cum, begging to be licked and sucked, and two big veins cascade from the bases to the tips. 

Though they are equally big, they have their differences too: Satoru is slightly longer than Suguru and has a hook while Suguru is much girthier and has heavier, mouth-watering balls. Either way, both will probably fuck your absolute brains out. 

You don’t realize that you’re staring at them with your mouth open until they crack up at your reaction. “Awww, what a cute look!” Satoru laughs. “She can’t believe her eyes!” 

Suguru hooks two fingers underneath your chin, making you look up at him. “Think you can take both of us, sweetheart?” He asks, his tone sultry and soothing. 

Something takes over you in that moment. A cock-hungry whore jumps into your bones and takes your place. She uses your body to get on her knees between the two demons, one cock in each of your hands. You watch as your hands begin to gently stroke their shafts from the tips down to the bases, up and down, up and down. 

The soft, sexy sounds leaving the demons’ lips encourage you to keep going, their hands lacing in your ear. “Nice and easy, baby,” Satoru huskily whispers. “Get to know ‘em. There’s no rush.” 

You find yourself falling in love with their cocks, especially once you get them in your mouth. You start with Suguru first, peppering his dick in kisses before taking him into your mouth and gently sucking on him like you would a lollipop. A big, thick lollipop. 

“Fuck,” he sighs, his head lolling back at the feeling. Your wet tongue. Your soft lips. The way your cheeks hollow and cushion him as he slides in and out of your tight little mouth. 

After some time, you switch to Satoru and give him the same treatment. The demon watches you through hooded eyes, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, as you bop up and down on his cock. “Good girl,” he moans, caressing your scalp. “Such a good girl for me.” You moan in response around his cock, stroking him in time with your sucking. 

You begin to switch between the two every so often, stroking one while blowing the other, massaging one of the pair of heavy balls while you slurp on one of their thick, pink heads, licking up the pre-cum. You’ve never sucked two cocks at once before, but surprisingly, you get the hang of it quickly…and you realize how much you enjoy it. 

Satoru chuckles, wiping spit from your mouth that you’ve accumulated from sucking so much. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you want us to fuck that pretty face of yours. Is that what you want?” 

He grips your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. “Tell us what you want,” he orders, his thumb playing with your bottom lip. 

The words flow out of you so easily: “I want you to fuck my mouth,” you softly say. “Both of you give me your cocks…please.” 

The demons smile down at you, their cocks twitching in your hands. “Well, since you asked so nicely…” Satoru tilts his hips forward and slides his cock into your mouth. 

You nearly gag as he slides into your throat, but keep telling yourself to breathe through your nose as your throat stretches and flexes around Satoru’s cock. Spit drips down your chin as he begins to bump and grind against your mouth, sliding himself in and out. He is very vocal about how good you’re making him feel, full-on yapping as he fucks your face. 

“Oooh, look how deep you’re takin’ me, babe. And you thought you couldn’t do it.” He slides in deeper, his pretty face screwing in pleasure as the walls of your throat flex and clench around him. 

“That’s it, gag on that shit. Such a good fuckin’ girl!” He fucks your mouth like it’s a toy, pulling you on and off of him as much as he wants. 

Once he’s had enough, he passes you off to Suguru who is way more gentle and slow with his facefucking. He allows you to get used to his girth, your jaw stretching as he slides into your throat, filling your entire mouth up with his cock. “You’re so good at this, sweetness,” he coos. “You must’ve done this before…though the way your body is movin’ makes me think it’s been a while.” 

You don’t realize that you’re grinding your pussy against the bed until he points it out. Getting wet off of a blowjob? That’s NEVER happened to you before! 

With a moan, Suguru slips out of your mouth and Satoru yanks you toward him to slide back in. “No one’s been fucking this pretty body right?” He tuts as he fucks your mouth. “What a shame. Nobody could’ve done it better though.” 

Suguru fucks your hand while he watches his partner turn your mouth into a fleshlight. “How long has it been since that trash ex of yours?” He asks. You blink up at him in surprise and he laughs. “Yeah, we know. Soon as we were summoned, we were able to see everything about you and your little life.” 

“And boy, did you dodge a bullet with that asshole,” Satoru laughs. Slipping out, he taps his cock against your lips and then your tongue before jamming himself back inside. 

“Not even eating you out most nights…not that he could do as good of a job.” He gives you a cocky smile as he slides out, allowing Suguru to have you again. 

The long-haired demon taps his cock along your wet tongue, keeping his eyes locked with yours. “You’ve been waitin’ for us to come along and slut you out, haven’t you?” He whispers. “Just the way you need to.” You have. You absolutely have waited for this. “Y-Yes,” you exhale and dive back onto his cock, sucking and slurping as much as you can. 

Suguru is loving it, his clawed hand gripping your hair and his eyes screwed tight. The feeling of your tight, wet mouth combined with how pretty you look with his cock stuffed between your cheeks is too much. “Fuck, keep going,” he groans. “Don’t stop!” His hand clings to your hair desperately, luscious moans and gasps escaping him as you swallow his cock. 

Satoru laughs, watching in interest and lust as you stroke him with your hand. “You’ve got some skills, little human. Sugu isn’t ever this loud unless I’ve got my dick in him.” 

Suguru glares at him, sliding his cock out of your mouth. It bobs slightly, nearly hitting you in the nose. “Shut up,” he growls. “Someone else definitely needs a dick in ‘em too.” 

You do. Your pussy is clenching around air and gushing all over the bed. You need them like you’ve never needed anything before. Satoru cups your face and lovingly strokes your cheek. 

“You ready to take us now, baby? How do you want it, hm?” They’re leaving it up to you? Your mind is so foggy from your arousal that you’ve forgotten your first name! 

But you know one thing for sure: you want them. Right here, right now. “I don’t care,” you find yourself answering. “Just fuck me.” 

The two handsome demons smile like two wolves who have successfully captured their prey. “Yes, ma’am,” they reply in unison. 

They take their time getting you into position. To them, there is no rush, but to you and your pussy, they couldn’t move any slower. They set you on all fours, your back arched and your ass presented to them. 

After deciding who goes first, Satoru gladly positions himself behind you while Suguru kneels in front of your mouth again. Both of their cocks begin sliding against both sets of your puffy, soft lips, emitting soft moans from both of you. 

“That’s it,” Satoru coos as you begin grinding back into him. “Show me how much you want this. Tell me with your body, baby.” He takes his hand and spits into it before applying it to his cock, making it shine in his saliva. 

“Careful, Satoru,” Suguru warns. “Humans are fragile.” 

Satoru rolls his blue eyes as he slides his cock against your clit and sobbing pussy. “I’ve done this before. Chill! Besides, she’s wet enough to take me.” Finally, he lines himself up with your entrance and slowly, sloooowly, slides in. 

You can’t explain what you feel when Satoru slides inside of you for the first time. Your mouth falls agape and your eyes widen as he stretches your walls inch by inch, filling you up with all of him. “Just relax,” he whispers, stroking your backside. “Let me do all the work, baby.” 

Suddenly, your entire body begins to feel…different. 

Your nipples tingle and tighten as if stimulated and your pussy grows so wet that your juices drip down your thighs. You know this has everything to do with whatever powers Satoru possesses as a demon. Whatever he does helps you take his cock deeper until he bottoms out inside of you, his balls tapping your clit. 

Satoru and Suguru begin to fuck your holes with you squeezed between them, their big hands raised above your head to form a triangle. You serve as the bottom half of this Eiffel Tower, swallowing Suguru’s dick as you try to focus on pushing yourself back and fucking yourself on Satoru’s cock too.

“How’s it feel, mama?” he teasingly asks. “Is that dick big enough?” 

His clawed hands snake down your ass to squeeze and massage it, his rough palms swatting at your cheeks. You mumble around Suguru’s thick cock in your throat at the sting just as one clawed hand caresses your scalp.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” he pants. “You look so goddamn pretty with my cock in your throat.” 

He pushes deeper, filling your throat with him. You nearly gag around his length, but manage to accommodate his size and breathe through your nose as he guides your head back and forth along his shaft.

Satoru laughs, pistoning into you so roughly that you see stars. “Y’know, you’re right, Sugu: she does look cute gettin’ stuffed like this…but not stuffed enough.” 

You suddenly feel his spit-coated finger gently swirling around your asshole before gently probing it. “Mmm!” you yelp around Suguru’s cock, but the demon shushes you. “It’s okay, babydoll,” he coos, still feeding you his cock. “Gojo’s just gonna get that ass ready for him.” 

Helplessly, you take Satoru’s finger in your ass, the digit penetrating the tight muscle until he feels that you’re ready. As soon as he pulls out, something else goes in. You yelp as your asshole stretches around the foreign object, making you feel full beyond belief. “Like my tail, baby?” he chuckles. “Your ass looks so fuckin’ good right now.” 

He begins to fuck you harder, gripping your ass so hard that his claws dig into your skin. You wince at the sting, but strangely enough, it adds to the pleasure. Your body has a mind of its own, straying away from your brain as it begins pushing back into Satoru’s cock. ”Bounce on that cock, baby,” he coaxes. “You’re such a good girl for us.” 

You are, you deliriously think. You are a good girl. Taking two big cocks at once is definitely something a good girl does. 

When Suguru takes you, he is just as big and just as thick as Satoru. He grips your hips and pounds your pussy from behind, his moans and grunts so delicious in your ears. 

Speaking of delicious, Satoru can’t enough of your delicious, sweet, dripping little cunt. He’s so pussy-drunk off of it that he volunteers to get underneath you and eat you out while Suguru fucks you from behind. He’s such a glutton, swallowing everything you give him. 

He hums delightfully as he licks and slurps at your puffy lips and needy clit, even licking at Suguru’s sensitive balls and cock while he slides in and out of you. “You taste so good here, baby!” he comments from between your thighs. It comes out more like, “Ywou twaste swo good hewe, babwuy.” 

His skillfully, forked tongue intensifies your already-stimulated nerves, making everything so wet, slippery, and sloppy. 

Suguru fucks you like you’ve never been fucked before, going at just the right pace that makes your pussy sob and whines of pleasure come out of you. “How’s it feel?” He asks, pressing his lips to your ear. “Tell me how that dick fuckin’ feels.” 

His hand comes around to squeeze your throat, causing a choked sob to escape you. “So-S-So good!” You cry out. “You feel so fuckin’ good, Suguru!” 

Happy with this, he speeds up his tempo, emitting chants of “Yes, yes, yes” from you as Satoru licks wildly at your clit, digging his claws into the soft flesh of your asscheeks while his partner dicks you down. 

But neither of them makes you cum…yet. That comes after each of them have had their fill of your pussy when you find yourself squished between them again. 

You straddle Satoru’s lap while Suguru kneels behind you, peppering your back in kisses. “Let’s fuck this bunny until she’s dumb,” Satoru suggests, his tone low and saccharine sweet. 

Suguru only nods and suddenly, you feel two thick, hard cocks sliding into your tight holes. Your eyes water and your mouth widens as you feel your body being stretched open. Your holes feel warm and tingly, the feeling only increasing the more the demons push inside of you. You know that they’re using their powers on you to make this more pleasurable, but it’s intense. “Too much!” you cry. “It’s too much!” 

You drop your head onto Satoru’s chest, whining and panting at the sensations. “Aw but you’re doin’ so well for us, baby,” he coos, bumping his hips up into yours. “Don’t give up now. This is what you wanted, right?” 

As if coercing you into agreeing with him, he rocks his hips up and hits that spongy part inside of you that makes you nearly lose your voice moaning. 

Suguru rocks his hips too, molding your hole into the shape of his cock. You feel too full, like a balloon filled with too much air. You begin to scramble and squirm in Satoru’s lap, but Suguru holds you firm against him, pressing himself against your back. “Don’t fuckin’ run from this,” he growls. “You want it and now you’ve got it. Hold fuckin’ still.” 

His demanding, no-BS tone turns you on more than you can express. Like a puppet being controlled by strings or a slave by her master, your body relaxes and succumbs to the overwhelming, intense pleasure. 

The two demons begin to fuck you harder once they find their rhythm, digging their nails into the flesh of your ass. “So fuckin’ tight!” Gojo grunts, fucking up intoyou like it’s his profession. “So fuckin’ wet. Such a good little slut for us.” 

He latches his lips around a nipple, sucking roughly on the sensitive bud. Geto attaches his lips and tongue to your neck, licking and sucking on your skin until he leaves hickeys. Their hips pump faster, their cocks moving in and out, in and out, stretching your holes until you’re sure that they are molded into the shape of their shafts. 

You grip Gojo’s shoulders as they bounce you against them, making you take everything they give you. “Oh, my God!” you scream. “Oh, my God!” Your voice rips out of you, satiating the demons. 

Gojo turns your face to meet his glittering blue eyes. “No God here, baby; just us,” he chuckles. 

Geto presses his lips to your cheek, nuzzling his nose into your sweet-smelling air. “Keep screamin’ for us. We wanna hear more of that pretty fuckin’ voice.” 

As if to persuade you, he switches up his tempo and moves out while Gojo moves in until the both of them are moving in tandem with each other, filling you up after one pulls out. 

Wet sounds of their cocks in your sobbing pussy begin to fill the air, mingling with your moans, bedsprings, and the sound of skin slapping against skin. The sound of sex. It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm of the night to peak like the moon high in the sky. 

“I-I’m gonna cum!” you pathetically sob, absolutely losing all self-control. “Please let me cum!” 

Gojo’s hand wraps around your neck, firmly squeezing your throat. His eyes glow, turning every strand of control and restraint you have into putty. “Tell us it’s ours then,” he demands. “Say this fuckin’ body, this ass, this pussy, is ours.” 

Geto slows down a bit to give you a chance to answer, his eyes all on you. 

You know what you’ll be doing if you say it. You know you’d be giving yourself over to these two demons from the depths of Hell who could damn well be tricking you…but you’re so desperate to cum that you don’t even care. If you truly become theirs then you just hope and pray that the same hot, mind-blowing sex you’re getting now will be in the plans. 

“I-It’s yours,” you whimper, the words barely escaping you. “My pussy is yours. My ass is yours. I’m yours, Daddies! I wanna be yours!” 

You can practically feel the two demons teem with joy and power as the words leave your lips. Gojo breaks out into a big grin as his cock drives up into you harder and faster, making you bounce up and down on him, your tits jiggling in his face. 

“Now you definitely can’t get rid of us now, baby,” he chuckles. “You’re ours now. And don’t let this go to that pretty little head, but you’re the best I’ve ever had.” 

Suguru presses his lips to your ear, his big hands gripping your body as his cock drives into you. “Cum for us,” he growls. “Give it to us, gorgeous. Cum.” 

His voice is like a button that triggers something inside of you. Immediately, your body clenches and so do your holes around the big cocks inside of you. Your orgasm crashes into you like a tidal wave, sweeping you up in an ocean of intense pleasure. 

With a loud moan, you cum around Satoru’s cock, triggering his own orgasm. “Gonna cum!” He warns, gripping you tight. “Gonna fill you up. Gonna give you all of these fuckin’ babies, baby, I promise.” 

He holds your eyes with his, showing you desperation and the loss of control in them. It’s so, so sexy. “You’re gonna take all of that cum for ya Daddies, aren’t you?” he coos. “Yes, you are.” 

He answers for you and so does his cock. With a loud moan and a swear, he sinks his claws into your ass and fills your pussy to the brim with your cum. Suguru leans down to kiss him, sloppily swirling his tongue with Satoru’s as he, too, cums. You gasp and shudder as you feel Geto’s cum fill your ass and then wetly drip down your inner thighs. 

The two don’t stop there. They continue to fuck into you without abandon, pushing their cum deeper into your holes. “Shit!” Satoru hisses, his face flushed pink. “C-Can’t…stop…cumming!” 

Suguru moans in response, nuzzling his face into your neck, his hair tickling your skin. He and Satoru rut into you like it’s the last time they’ll do so, hugging you between them. “Take it,” Satoru demands. “Take all of it.” 

You do. You have no choice. You weakly moan as your orgasm draws on, growing more and more intense as the seconds pass. You feel that you may faint if this goes on. You begin to feel dizzy and light, like you’re not grounded. You’re somewhere in the sky floating among the clouds. 

“Y/N?” Suguru’s hand is suddenly on your face, gently tapping your cheek. “Talk to me, mama. You okay?” 

Weakly, you nod. You can’t find the words to speak. Even as your orgasm fades, the tingles remain. 

“Lay her down,” Suguru demands. “I wanna mark that pretty face and those tits too.” You weakly moan as the two demons pull out of your wet, sensitive holes and lay you on your back. 

You stare up at the two sexy, horned men and their still-hard cocks as they pump them furiously in your face. “Hold still now, baby,” Satoru says, his tone saccharine sweet. “Just let your Daddies mark you up.” 

Muscles clench, faces screw, and cocks swell as their second orgasms build. You watch with lust-blown eyes as your demons toss their heads back, exposing their necks to you, as their orgasms wash over them. Delicious moans escape them as their cum escapes their cocks. You gasp as you feel warm liquid splash onto your tits, stomach, and face. 

Your eyes shut just in time to avoid getting any in your eye, but you can taste the salty substance on your lips and tongue. It drops down your breasts and chest; out of your cunt and ass, coating your thighs. You are now completely theirs. 

The two demons sigh in exhaustion and satisfaction, their cocks soft and their toned bodies slick with sweat. Satoru wipes the seat from his forehead, a smile on his face. “That…was needed. I feel better already!” 

Suguru’s nods, agreeing, before his attention falls on you. “How do you feel, baby?” he whispers, gently stroking your thigh. “You okay?” 

All you can muster is a soft mewl in response. You sit there, winded, achy, and coated in cum. Satoru snorts, gently wiping a droplet of cum from your lips. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he laughs. “Now, baby, how do your friends feel about demons? You should probably introduce us soon.” 

Suguru tsks and elbows his partner as he gently scoops you off of the bed. “Shut up and help me run a bath, asshole.” 

The demon holds you to his chest and carries you to the bathroom. He gently kisses your forehead, soft and loving. “You did so well for us tonight, sweetness,” he coos. “So, so good. We hope we made you feel just as good as you made us feel.” 

You want to tell him yes, that you’ve never felt so rejuvenated and alive, but the post-orgasm sleepiness won’t allow you. The shea butter and lavender-scented bubble bath Satoru runs for you only makes it worse. 

The two demons don’t talk as they sit in the bath with you, wiping their cum off of you and letting you soak. There are only soft sighs and light touches that relax you even further as you sink back into Satoru’s chest while Suguru washes you. 

Two incubi in your bathroom. Who would ever believe this? 

The rest of the night is slow, sweet, and involves a hot bubble bath, oil massages, and getting snuggled between two sex demons in your bed. 

Suddenly, with your body aching deliciously and your bed warm from the two men slumbering in it, you start to think that maybe having two incubi haunt you for the rest of your days won’t be such a bad thing after all… 

Just as long as this night is like every other night after. 

THE END. 

“I’m here on behalf of Captain John Price, he called ahead about the hybrid.”

You’d lifted your numb head from the concrete floor when you realised you recognised that name, painfully craning your neck just to see who’d spoken it. You tried to work the stiffness from your muscles, popping joints and rolling them as far as your bounds would allow. Water was tumbling off you like a dam all the while, creating little murky puddles all around you. Despite the flimsy tin roof above, the rain had been relentlessly blown onto you for most of the day.

As usual it was your fault you were suffering, you knew well enough you could’ve avoided the punishment. You could’ve chosen to suck up your pride. Though as your mind cycled back through the day, you wondered if maybe it was all inevitable. Perhaps they pushed you as a way of giving a last sordid goodbye gift. 

A morning lashing followed by the announcement that you were being transferred to an unnamed team, being sent off to pack up your meagre possessions, finished off by a full day tied up and abandoned on the floor of the outdoor kennels. Somewhere through the first few hours of being left there you’d begun to feel a tiny spark of anticipation at the idea of being taken away. You’d wondered if things might be better somewhere else. 

However when the mysterious man strode into your line of vision, you were right back to feeling hopeless. Every inch of the unyielding cold was digging it’s way into your aching bones, but even through that you were shivering now at the idea of being taken away by him. He was a giant, all shadows and wide angles, black cloth with a stab of white around his face. You fixed your sights onto his mask and felt your teeth almost shatter as you realised it was a skull. Was this big terrifying bastard your new handler? 

“Ah, yes…Lieutenant,” there was an awkward pause, the handler clearly felt much the same as you about the behemoth. “Just over there. You’ll have to fill out some paperwork before you leave with it, but you can have a look first and decide if you want to finalise the decision.”

The man nodded and gave a grunt, his eyes narrowing at the mention of paperwork. Oh great, you thought, he’s pissed off and now he’s about to come meet me. There was no escape from him though. You were completely trapped, hands bound tightly behind your back with thick corded rope and legs similarly tied. There was nothing for it, but to wait for him to realise that the pathetic wolf staring up at him was the one he was getting stuck with. 

“This wolf’s been serving out the last of its punishment today,” the handler said, running a nervous hand over his stubbly blonde head. 

You glared at him, throat tightening as you valiantly repressed a growl. He’d always been an asshole to you right from the very start, he revelled in the chance to pull you down a peg or twelve, and that day he’d really outdone himself. He’d hit you with the leather strap until his veins were popping out of his ridiculously oversized arms and then he’d sneered all the way through tying you down for the day. He’d been taking particular joy in telling you ‘act like a bitch, get treated like a bitch’ before leaving you stuck there.

While most soldier hybrids were treated comparatively well, given the nature of the work you did, the base personnel took particular exception to you. Right from the very start, from the day you’d been dumped there as a mere child you’d been marked as the black sheep and there wasn’t a single day that you weren’t reminded of your lack of favour. You’d arrived a shitty kid with a chip on their shoulder and come through it a shell of that past self, never quite escaping the claws of your contentious past.

You were thinking about just how many times you’d been left to rot in that exposed kennel when you finally locked gazes with the Lieutenant. You wondered how he’d see you through those cold unblinking eyes as they peered at you through the front bars. Would he want to hurt you too? 

Of course he would, you thought, they all do. 

“Why’re they tied like that? What sort of punishment is this?”

You jumped at the harshness of his tone. There was a knife edge drawn in it, meant to preface an attack. 

“It’s our version of a time out. Although with the amount this one’s been in here it’s more like a permanent residence.”

You huffed out a breath, watching as the man puffed up his chest. A useless inflatable shield. He wasn’t going to fold and pretend that he wasn’t being harsher than normal to you. He was quite happy to let the other man believe that you were deserving of the treatment. In fairness you had bitten him not long after you’d come back from your last mission, you’d been out of patience and he’d crumpled the last straw in your back. 

“And how long has this timeout been?”

The way the Lieutenant spat the word, it dripped into your ears like venom. You winced as you watched him fold his arms and openly glared at the handler now, sending the other man stuttering backwards a foot or two. 

“Only a half day, Lieutenant,” the handler faltered. 

“Fuckin’ hell, you trying to kill them before they go? What are we meant to do with a half drowned wolf, eh? Its been raining all day, they’re soaked and shiverin’ like a fuckin’ newborn, how the hell do you justify that?”

“You have to appreciate that this is a-”

“I don’t have to appreciate anything. Get that door open now!” the Lieutenant ordered, interrupting the fumbling mess in front of him. 

The handler visibly paled and suddenly thought better of trying to justify his work. He shakily got to work rattling his keys into the door, and yelped when the masked man shouldered past him, staying firmly planted outside while your cell was invaded. 

You whined when his shadow descended on you and tried to pull away, attempting to try and get into a better position to fend off any attacks. However he was on you before you could so much as shift a muscle. 

His gloved hands were quick to undo the knots keeping you pinned down and even quicker to trap you to the ground when he noticed you squirming and splashing your hands through puddles just to get away from him. It was like being held by a stone statue. He was relentless, keeping you pasted down to the floor before dragging you against him and rubbing those solid hands of his up and down your sides, willing your circulatory system to jump into a sprint. 

Your energy was too busy being directed to your head though. The jolt of human touch was nothing like you were used to, and knowing who it was coming from was enough to send you into overdrive. His warm hands and rough voice left impressions up your spine and in your head, his scent burned in your lungs. Notes of spicy orange peel and gunmetal wafted around your head, somewhere faintly you swore you detected traces of cigar smoke.

Suddenly you were thrown back to being sent out on a mission with Price, he wasn’t so bad to work for, he’d treated you well enough and even gotten some food for you afterward. It made you wonder if maybe the big man he’d sent wasn’t so bad too. Not that you’d treat him as anything other than a threat for the time being of course. 

“You with us, darlin’?”

You jumped when you realised he was finally talking to you. Your eyes connected with his, landing on those stormy blue irises before you let loose a growl. You couldn’t help it this time. Your body was kicking into its usual instincts in lieu of having any idea of how to act. Those same instincts had you flinching straight after, waiting for the retaliation. 

“None of that now,” the man chastised softly, “C’mon, stop your growlin’. You’ve gotta warm up, pup, don’t fight me.” 

Where most handlers would have slapped you or kicked you or even cuffed you round your big fluffy ears for all the noise you’d made, this man didn’t even huff at you. He just continued to rub your arms and legs and tried to coax the curl out of your shaking tail. Your usually silvery fur was drenched into a damp grey and clung wetly to his gloves as he ran his hands through it.

“Leave my tail alone!” you snarled, finally breaking free of the spell you were under. 

Your tail had been snapped and broken enough times that it was stuck permanently lopping to the right. You weren’t going to let him do any worse to it. You attempted to twist and break yourself out of his hold but the man was steadfast in keeping you locked against him. His hands fastened to your waist and back and unfortunately pressed harshly against a big welt that scorched you as soon as his fingers pressed there. You howled out a scream in response.

“Hey! Hey, easy now. Stop, I’m not trying to hurt you. Keep still. Easy!”

As if you’d listen to him. You thrashed about to no avail, breathing harshly as you fought through the bubble of anxiety that enveloped you. Your lungs were working so hard to pump that you distantly worried they might explode. Every cell in your body struggled against the masked man, but no matter what you did you weren’t a match for him in your weakened state. 

“Fuck sake, stop standing there being useless and get me a towel,” the Lieutenant shouted over you, calling over to the handler. 

“You actually want it?” The handler questioned, his face a picture of horror as he watched you screaming like a banshee against your prospective new leader. 

“Well I’m not leaving them here to freeze, am I? Get me that towel and tell your superiors to mail the paperwork, we’re leaving.”

“It’s not standard policy to-”

“It's not standard policy for me to rip your spine out your throat, but I just might do it,” Ghost threatened. “Go!”

…

You’d been bundled into a car not long after that, pinned fast to the Lieutenant’s front like a half-dead butterfly. After struggling for a good ten minutes with him, wrestling to keep the towel off you, you finally gave in. Being so good as to allow him to wrap you up and dry you off, roughly sweeping the fabric over the worst of your drowned tail, ears and hair before situating you in the back next to him. The driver started the car and got to moving without a word.

You sat ruefully folding your arms over the soaked towel, hair and fur poking in all directions, watching as your old base faded to a pin prick in the distance. The smell of your damp clothes drying was turning the air stale, but you could hardly focus on that as your mind tried to make sense of everything that had happened. That and your smarting back as it burned against the hard cushioning of your seat. 

Meanwhile the Lieutenant’s voice was a gruff murmur as he spoke to his Captain, he was quietly updating him on the situation. You didn’t really bother to listen, ears pinned to the back of your head as you tried to figure out how to proceed with your new and strange circumstances. 

Most hybrids would eventually be chosen to permanently join teams, but there’d never been any interest for you before. Plenty of Captains would praise your skills and openly admire the work you did, but you were very purposefully told after every time that they’d take a look at your disciplinary file and go running for the hills. It made you wonder what Price had seen in you. You weren’t even convinced you’d been that impressive given you were only assigned to him for a tracking mission. You hadn’t even brought anyone down or had to push yourself very hard at all, you’d only needed to locate his man and report back. 

“Hey Ghost, should I turn up the heat?” 

Your eyes flashed to the rearview mirror, catching eyes with the driver that had broken the silence. He watched you back unflinching. Ghost? You turned and faced the man next you, tilting your head when he looked up at the driver. 

Was his name really Ghost? 

“Your wolf’s shaking,” the driver continued. 

You locked eyes with Ghost again, feeling your heartbeat more than you’d ever had in your life. It felt like it’d been locked in a cage barely big enough to fit. Your tail curled when he ended his call and turned his attention solely on you.

Interrupting the higher ups was never a good thing. You gulped. 

“You still cold, pup?” He asked softly. 

You frowned at him, feeling your ears peek up at the repeated use of the nickname. You were long past being a ‘pup’ anymore. Though for some reason it didn’t feel as patronising as it should’ve. 

“I’ll be fine, sir,” you said, answering stiffly. 

“Didn’t ask if you’d be fine, I asked if you were cold.”

You flinched at his words, already knowing you must be drawing out his ire. It wouldn’t be long before had you back at whatever base he was taking you to and was tying you up to a disciplinary post, you thought grimly. In most cases you knew you could bear the punishment and would quite happily spurn him, but knowing the full size of Ghost you weren’t so sure you’d walk away quite as well as normal from that one. 

You thought carefully before answering him again. 

“I am a little cold, sir,” you shrugged. 

He nodded and motioned for the driver to go ahead and soon the car was filled with warmth, your shaking subsided but didn’t cease. It wasn’t all due to the cold. 

To make matters worse that wasn’t the end of the interaction with Ghost either. Now that he was off the phone he was giving you a proper look over. It felt as if he were assessing every inch of you while you stared back at him, willing yourself to keep your eyes from naturally casting down. Did you measure up to his expectations? 

“Are you ok?” he asked, breaking the bubble of silence that had enveloped you. 

You frowned. What did he care?

“Fine, sir?” 

“Are you asking me if you’re fine?” he snorted. 

You could see the twinkle of a smirk in his eyes. The corners were pulling upwards and you swore you caught a twitch of a smile behind the black material of his lower mask. 

“Do you care either way?” you asked, raising your brows at him. 

He lost his smile at that. 

“I appreciate honesty, pup.”

That was it. He snapped the tether to the tiny frightened wolf inside of you that begged you not to antagonise him and finally, you felt brave enough to push. The real animal inside was allowed to bark and howl uncontrolled. 

“I’m being taken away to god knows where by Mr.Bonejangles and now he’s asking me to be honest with him after I’ve spent the whole day out in the elements with a whipped back. How do you think I’m doing?” you growled.

Now that the heat was properly thawing you out, you were feeling every ounce of your irritability spark to life. Even while you waited for some kind of reprimand, you held firm through your tensed muscles. If he hit you then you would do everything not to flinch from it. 

Test me, asshole. Just do it. You won’t see me break.

He didn’t lash out at you though, he’d already proved he wasn’t like your handlers at your base, but this more than confirmed it. Instead he took a breath and kept his measured gaze on you, letting you know that he was perfectly in control of the situation. 

“My name’s Ghost. I’m taking you down to London, and you’re going to join the 141 with me as your handler. You’re going to be serving under John Price, you did a mission with him and Kyle Garrick about a month back. Do you remember them?” Ghost said, his voice even and clear. 

You blinked back at him, not even bothering to hide your surprise that he’d wanted to give you answers to the questions you clearly had. Now you were truly curious. It wasn’t often that anyone bothered to fill you in on what was happening, you were usually expected to just accept whatever happened and to keep quiet even if you couldn’t. Ghost actually wanted you to talk to him.

“Price is the one with the dodgy beard. And Garrick… he’s called Gaz right? The Sergeant?” you said slowly, still not quite believing you were being engaged with. 

Ghost huffed out a laugh. 

“That’s right. You’ll see them again in the morning, and you’ll get to meet Sergeant MacTavish as well. For tonight all you gotta worry about is getting clean and fed and having a decent night’s sleep. We’ve got a few hours till we get to the base though, so for now you can ask me whatever you like.”

You tilted your head at him and immediately got to work testing this new boundary of yours. Your ears were perked up like antennas as your brian buzzed with activity. You’d never been in a position to ask whatever you’d liked before. 

“Why’re you wearing that mask?” 

He rolled his eyes at that, causing you to shrink back. Ok, so maybe you weren’t really going to get to ask whatever you liked. 

“Gotta hide how handsome I am,” he said, leaning back in his chair and giving you an amused side eye.

You snorted at that and unclenched your hands, letting your sharp nails come away from the chair before it tore. A smile even curled its way onto your lips. 

“Not because you’re an ugly bastard then?” 

“Negative.”

You snorted again.

“So lets see, I apparently have a model handler and a new and very experienced team that I have the honour of being express delivered to. You’re letting me speak more than any of those bastards ever did in a whole day and you’ve not punished me once yet. I can’t help but wonder why you’d choose me for this, especially after you saw me back there,” you said, pursing your lips as if you might come to any conclusions on your own. “Anyone would tell you I’m a liability, but you still took me anyway. Why?”

Ghost raised his brows under the mask, the blackout makeup below shifted and you swore you could make out some of his exposed pale skin out of the corners. You watched him intently, trying to make out any hint of insincerity or anger where there was none. 

“Price said you were good. I trust his instincts.”

“No questions asked?”

“None,” he confirmed.

“Even after seeing my disciplinary record?”

“It raised a few eyebrows on the team, but Price was happy enough with what he saw on the field that he wanted you as long as I did too. And like I said, I trust him,” he sighed when he met your eyes and you still weren’t convinced. “Besides, your record’s a shit show from base but you’ve been getting consistently solid reports back for the last ten years you’ve been getting sent out. I’m willing to bet that that stunning display of incompetence I saw earlier was probably a good indicator of why you’ve not been performing very well at home.”

“Stunning display of incompetence,” you repeated, not able to help the bark of laughter you let loose afterward. 

“Exactly, pup,” Ghost smiled.

You felt something inside you dislodge, like a brick had come out of the fortress you’d built around yourself. While you weren't rushing to fawn over your new handler, but you were willing to offer him more than just your contemptible obedience. Something about that sent a small shiver down your back, but even still you were able to lie back in the chair and let it leave you. 

You didn’t have it in you to ask anymore questions after that. Your head was an overspilling cup already, you didn’t want to drown yourself with anymore knowledge. So instead you let the easy silence take over and looked off into the distance, watching with heavy lids as the car tore through fields and towns in equal measure. 

Your eyes kept closing in a series of syrupy slow blinks, one second you were driving through a hedgeway of trees and the next you were in open blue fields of sky darkened wheat. Somewhere down the line your eyes closed for the final time and you gently arrived into a dreamless sleep, letting the darkness and warmth envelop your aching body. 

…

You had the feeling that you were being lifted. The sudden shift in the air from warm to cold paired with the sensation of being jostled was enough to tip you over the edge of consciousness. In seconds you were looking for something to attack. 

Your eyes snapped open and you went in for a bite, just about to close your teeth around an arm when that same appendage snapped back and fastened your neck against a hard wall of muscle behind you. You growled and panicked, heart hammering and body struggling in a flash of snapping canines and flailing limbs. 

“Hey! Stop your nonsense.”

You stilled at the words, instantly recognising the rough manc accent that they’d come from. You breathed a little and came back to yourself, remembering that you weren’t at your old base anymore and you weren’t being captured by an enemy either. You were being taken somewhere new, not a base or a prison or a kennel, you were being brought toward a bungalow. 

“Where are we?” you asked feebly, frowning at your unfamiliar surroundings. 

“Just outside the base, darlin’,” Ghost rumbled. “This is my home, for now.”

“Why are you taking me to your house?”

You angled yourself against Ghost’s tight hold and frowned up at him, searching his face for any sign of bad intention. You’d invaded houses as part of your job, but never had you stayed inside one since you’d lived with your family. You couldn’t understand why he’d want you to live with him when you knew as well as he did that there were specialised barracks for hybrids in every military base. Why would he want his work invading his personal space? 

“I don’t want you staying at the base until you’re more settled,” Ghost said, pulling one of his hands from you so that he could get his keys out his pocket. “You can choose to stay there if you want after the first few weeks, but until then you’re staying here with me.”

Your ears flickered as the loud jingling of his keys rattled through them and you whined, oversensitive and overtired. He let his remaining arm relax around you and held you close to his chest, shushing you all the while. His spicy aroma filled your senses again and you let your whines die down to low whimpers, hoping that he’d just put you down and leave you alone soon. 

“Sh, It’s ok, pup. I know it’s been a long day, but I just need you to hold on a little longer, alright?”

You nodded and let him carry you through the doorway and down a dark hallway, setting you down on a cool tiled floor before turning on the light. You glanced up at him sheepishly and blinked furiously at the bright blue bulb, having to rub your eyes before you could properly check out your surroundings. Once you rubbed the sleep from them you realised you were in a bathroom.

“You think you can shower yourself and get changed into something for bed?” he asked. “I can run you a bath and help you wash if you need?”

“No, shower’s fine,” you said quickly, not wanting to go through any further humiliation.

“Good, I’ll leave your things for you here and let you get on with it then,” he said, setting down the hold all you’d packed just next to you. “There’s a clean towel there on the rail for you, the blue one. Once you’re clean and changed you can come to the kitchen and get some dinner. It’s just at the end of the hall.”

You checked to your right and sure enough there was a clean fluffy towel waiting right on the heated rail for you. Ghost nodded and took himself out of the room, closing the door with a soft snick and leaving you alone for the first time since he’d picked you up. 

You shivered and chanced a look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, quickly averting your eyes when you realised just how pathetic you looked. Your hair was a mess, your fur was thick with matts and your skin was plastered with dirt. You were a sore sight. You growled at yourself for getting into such a state and stalked into the joint bath and shower, not bothering to wait for the water to heat before yanking the shower on. 

Cold water jetted out and shocked you into awareness, drawing out another low whine until it started to heat up, letting you properly set to work washing all the filth away. There were a couple of bad matts that came out in thick clumps, but other than that you were glad for the shower, pleasantly surprised by how warm it could go. The heat bled through your skin and into your tired muscles and before long you were just standing there enjoying the water, already done with washing yourself. 

You didn’t want to push your luck though. So with an unwilling jostle from your survival instincts you turned the shower off and got yourself out, not wanting to risk Ghost barging in and asking what was taking you so bloody long.

Soon enough you were finding out that being wrapped in one of Ghost’s towels was also quite pleasant. These weren’t anything like the raggedy old towels from your base, like the one sitting sadly discarded on the floor, no these were warm and soft on your skin. Where the other towel scratched this one soothed and you found yourself smiling, feeling your tail wag as you found comfort in the gentle material and lingering orange scented steam. 

Again, you couldn’t stay like that forever. So you dug through the clothes in your bag until you found an old pair of sweats and tugged those on, taking care to gently pull your tail through the specially stitched opening that had long been fraying with age, and then shrugged on a baggy t-shirt afterwards. Finally you were ready and able to go see Ghost. 

You put your towel back on the rail and neatly piled your dirty things in the corner as you weren’t sure what to do with them, then marched from the bathroom and down the hall, depositing your bag outside the doorway. It wasn’t hard to pick out Ghost’s scent even in his own house, even as you now smelled like him after using his Soap. His aroma now mingled with the smell of chicken and chips and your mouth watered as you came into the room, fixing your eyes on where Ghost now stood. He was leaning over a hot oven, pulling out half a rotisserie chicken and a tray of golden brown chips just as you’d walked through the threshold. 

“How was your shower?”

You raised your brows, still taken aback by how much he cared about your feelings and opinions on things. 

“Good, sir.”

“You don’t have to call me sir when we’re not on base,” Ghost said, throwing you a glance over his shoulder. 

You’d noticed that he’d dressed down since coming home. He’d shed his layers and changed out of his soaked clothes into a pair of jeans and black tee, wearing a black balaclava over his face instead of his skull mask. However you realised when he fully turned around with the plated food that it still had a skull painted over it. Cute. 

“Here, I’ve just heated up some leftovers for tonight. Nothing great, but try to eat up, you’ll need energy for tomorrow.”

“This is all for me?”

You frowned when he set the plate in front of you and looked up wide eyed. He was selling it like it was crap, but it was miles better than the tinned slop they served you on the base. This was fresh, this was the type of stuff you got as a treat when you were sent away on deployments. The crispy chicken skin was already tearing through the teeth of your imagination, your mouth watered at the thought of the sensation. Even knowing it was a little shrivelled from overcooking it was still going to be one of the tastiest meals you’d eaten in a while. Some small part of you wondered if it was all some kind of trick. 

“Yeah, all yours, pup. C’mon eat up, then off to bed,” Ghost urged, giving you shoulder a small squeeze. 

You shrunk from him, but successfully resisted the urge to snap. You couldn’t lash out after how nice he’d been, so you begrudgingly had to allow him the unnecessary physical contact. Putting it out your head, you instead lowered your head to your plate and gathered up your fork, ready to wildly stab at the bits of chicken and crispy chips. You could feel your tail swishing behind you, though even in present company you didn’t care. 

You happily set about finishing your food while Ghost sat across from you, intently typing and reading things on his phone. The light from the device bounced off of his eyes, the fake blue light pooling thick on top of his shrunken pupils. You only realised you’d begun to stare at him when he looked up and seemed to smile at you. 

“Don’t get distracted, finish your dinner,” he chastised. 

Your ears pinned to your head in embarrassment and you focused back on the plate, not looking back up until the plate was empty and your belly was pleasantly full. Your tail twitched happily behind you and you leaned back in your chair with it, closing your eyes so that you could bask in the pleasant heavy feeling that was starting to overcome you again. 

“Ah ah, you’re not sleeping here. C’mon, to bed,” Ghost rumbled.

You opened your eyes again and blinked up at him, glowering under the weight of your exhaustion. Whatever bed you were imagining him having for you, you couldn’t imagine it’d be that much better than the rickety wooden chair you’d planted yourself on. Of course you’d forgotten all the nice things he’d allowed you already, and your mind was imagining something like your sleeping arrangement at the base. 

And once again your expectations were blown out of the water. He gestured for you to come follow him and with a sigh and a sharp crack in your knees you rose from your chair and huffed off down the dark hallway with him. The wood creaked as you both walked across it, groaning more heavily under your new handler’s larger steps. You didn’t have to walk very far fortunately for you. 

Ghost stopped at a door that was just next to the bathroom and opened it, ushering you in front of him as he got the lightswitch. You let him lead you round and looked into the room as it flashed to life, surprised again to see how much better your circumstances had become since leaving your original base. 

“I’m sleeping in here?”

“Yeah, this is your room. You’ve got a few blankets and pillows there on the bed so you can arrange it however you like. I know some hybrids like to nest and some don’t, so its up to you how you want to keep it. All I ask is that you make sure it’s kept clean, and I will be checking.”

You barely listened to him as you stared at the bed in front of you. It was a real bed. Not a stuffed foam pillow on the floor, not a mattress bundled in the corner, not cold barren concrete, no. It was a real bed with legs and a springy mattress and a cornflower duvet cover and an assortment of pillows and blue blankets to match. 

“I’ll let you put your things away tomorrow, for now I want you to lie down for me. You need your tail brushed and I want to check over your back.”

All at once your chest collapsed and the happiness you’d felt left your body entirely, every inch of it dropping from your ears and tail. You turned around and looked at Ghost, stopping him in his tracks just as he was taking a step toward you. He paused when he looked down at the snarl you now wore. 

“You’re not touching my tail, I’ve brushed it already myself,” you rumbled.

“And you’ve done a piss poor job of it. Go lie down and let me take a quick look,” Ghost said, his tone forceful and even. 

You growled then, letting the engine in your chest roar to life. Even if he was being nice to you, this was a step too far. You didn’t like it when people touched your tail or ears, usually it meant tugging and pulling and pain. Whenever you felt someone's hands on them it’d bring bile up everytime, your body ready to process the agony it was about to experience. 

“Alright, I can see that’s an issue for you,” he sighed, placing his hands on his hips. “What if I make sure not to touch it with my hands and just run the brush through, would that be ok?”

You paused and considered his words, growls dying low in your throat. Maybe this was the lesser of two evils, you thought. After all, if he wanted to brush your tail then he more than proved he could overpower you, so perhaps this was the only way to keep him from putting his hands on it. Unless you wanted to put vicious intent behind your attacks, the kind that would get you put down like a dog, then you had no way of actually making him stop. 

“Fine,” you snapped.

“Good. Lie down then,” he commanded, disappearing into the gloom of the hallway after. 

He reemerged again just after you finally lay down. He walked in on your internal battle, one part of you wanting to squeal with joy at how soft the bed was and the other wanting to jump up and bite the hand that held the brushes and lotion bottle. The main thing that gave you pause was knowing that the other handlers you'd known would’ve beat you black and blue for growling at them and questioning their orders, meanwhile Ghost had adjusted his plans just to suit you. He proved again that he championed your comfort. 

“I’ll make this quick, I promise,” Ghost soothed.

He sat down on the bed beside you, causing it to dip and groan under the new weight. It forced you to roll toward him too. You huffed when you came into contact with his side and scrambled to correct yourself, trying to maintain some modicum of distance from him. Once you were settled again, he placed the brushes and lotion bottle down next to you and lifted the thick toothed brush bringing it to your tail. 

You scrunched your eyes shut tightly and grit your teeth. You already felt like you were going to bring up your dinner. You couldn’t help but picture him ignoring his past promises. However instead of living up to your dark imaginings, he placed one hand on the small of your back and let the other drag the brush down your tail snagging almost immediately on a big clumpy matt that you’d missed.

“See, couldn’t let that sit there and build up. You’d end up with a skin infection,” he grunted. “If you don’t want me touching there that’s fine, but you’re going to need to help take the clumps out, ok?”

You stiffly nodded your head and opened your eyes again, feeling your cheeks heat when you realised that Ghost was staring down at you. You gulped down your embarrassment and reached your hand back, digging into your tail and pulling at the clump that the brush had brought up. 

Ghost grunted his approval and let the brush run through again and again, only pausing when it would stop at a tug. It started to become rhythmic, the noise of the brush cutting through your wiry fur and the dull thud whenever it hit a snag. He never once tried to touch you without your permission. 

“How long has your tail been twisted like this,” Ghost asked, interrupting the sound of the brush. 

You tilted your head, trying to think back to a time when it didn’t curve off to the side, you hadn’t remembered it being straight in so long. 

“I think it was fully broken when I was around sixteen maybe,” you said softly. “The doctors tried to set it properly, but it just wouldn’t come back no matter what they tried. I’ve learned to balance with it like that though and it mostly works like it used to - just a little range of movement lost they said”

“How did it break?”

You shivered at the memory. Ghost must’ve felt it underneath his hold on you because he stopped his brushing for a moment and let you speak. 

“Sergeant Maddox got mad because I couldn’t complete the training he’d set that day. I was tired from being out in the kennels the night before and I didn't have the rest of the run in me. He yanked me up off the floor by the tail and it just…snapped.”

You couldn’t see Ghost’s expression properly, but you could hear his anger through the seething breath he let out. A string snapped in your body, you felt the heat coursing from him, you tensed. Though you were soon relaxing again when he got back to brushing, silently continuing on with the rest of the treatment.

The process only lasted a couple of minutes, thankfully it wasn’t as bad as you might’ve thought, soon enough the brush was sliding down your tail like it was a boat sailing through a silver river. The second brush he’d brought, the one with the finer teeth did the same in a matter of three clumps and for a second you were grateful to be able to sleep. You smiled to yourself and got ready to readjust yourself for bed, but Ghost stopped you, his hand still firmly on your lower back. 

“You said you got lashed earlier. I need to check your back first then you can sleep.”

You whined but didn’t bother to properly protest. It would do you no good anyway. He lifted your shirt and let out another seething breath, cursing to himself about something to do with ‘the staff being leagues below incompetent’ and curled up a little, willing him just to be done and to take his venom away from you. 

“These marks aren’t good. I’m going to put a little bit of cream on you to help keep them clean. It’ll sting a bit but I’m sure you’ve dealt with worse.”

You nodded, signalling for him to proceed. He carefully worked the cream into your back, withdrawing when you hissed at the pressure or when he’d covered a particularly bad area. Though in time that was done too and he was twisting the cap back onto the bottle in no time. You breathed in a sigh of relief and worked your way onto your side, turning away from Ghost and his annoying efforts to treat you well. 

He laughed at the movement and gathered his things, rising off the bed and letting you get comfortable. Before you could think to pull up the sheets and get them over you though, Ghost took care of that for you. He stretched the duvet cover over your body and gently stroked his hand down an area of your back that he knew had been missed from your punishment. 

“G’night, pup. Sleep well and just shout if you need anything.” he murmured, voice soft as he retreated from the room. 

He turned out the light and shut the door, leaving you to lie there in the darkness with your wide eyes growing wetter with every retreating step you heard. You were more awake than you’d been the whole day, your mind was racing and your lungs were labouring hard under your heavy breaths. Somehow you tried to process the fact you’d just had someone tuck you in for the first time in…maybe ever?

You let out a little sob and buried your head in the covers, eyes streaming tears before you could bully yourself into controlling them. It felt like you were a new recruit all over again. Your head raced with images from your early years, lying in the bunkroom with all those strangers around you, wondering when your parents would come back, scared shitless of the big shouty human men that seemed so quick to anger. 

You weren’t scared of a big man trying to shout at you and punish you anymore though, now you were scared of the big man that wanted to treat you softly and give you a good home. Hard punishment felt like something you could do, but nice treatment with soft blankets and consenting touches and warm bellies full of food? That terrified the fuck out of you. 

You silenced your cries with the covers and jammed your fingers into your skin, willing yourself to shut up and go to sleep. Even while the salt stung at your cheeks and your skin protested under your sharp claws, the greatest pain felt like the sheer humiliation of enjoying Ghost’s affections.

You liked that he was babying you and taking care of you!

weakling.