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seijorhi · 3 years

Text

Bully ~ Part II

Oikawa Tooru x female reader (+ Iwaizumi Hajime)

TW dub/non-con, bullying, slight degradation, voyeurism, filming, implied abuse, one mention of slapping, nsfw

Part I

‘Honey, it’s your choice. Whatever you decide to do, we’ll respect.’

The final whistle sounds, the team gathering up in a huddle and with a sigh you dutifully close your books and begin to pack them away into your bag. They still have to pull down all the nets and tidy up, but that never takes too long and the sooner you’re all out of here the better.

The sooner you can get away from them, the better.

It’s become routine at this point for you to slowly make your way down to the edge of the court while they duck into the locker room; the other third years acknowledging you with friendly enough smiles, the underclassmen no longer staring at you in vague confusion.

But at this point you’re truly beyond caring what any of them think of your relationship with their Captain.

Except instead of filing out like the rest of his teammates, Oikawa’s still on the far side of the court, trapped in a conversation with Coach Irihata and Mizoguchi. For a split second, his attention shifts towards you, lingering awkwardly by the big double doors, and you think you catch a flicker of irritation in his eyes – which is unusual, considering that he’s made this game his life and he has nothing but the greatest respect for both of the men before him.

But it doesn’t really matter, you suppose. You’ll wait for him, whether it’s five minutes or fifty and he’ll either tell you what’s pissing him off, or he won’t and he’ll end up using you to work out his frustrations anyway.

With your parents away for the rest of the week and your house otherwise empty, you can only pray to any god that’ll listen that he won’t try and spend the night. Not that there’s much you can do to stop him, but a girl can dream, right?

The others are heading off, Makki laughing off some biting comment from Kyoutani, but you pay them no mind. Despite being the people you now spend the majority of your time with, they’re not your friends.

You resign yourself to trudging back up into the stands to wait for Oikawa to finish up when a hand gently wraps around your arm, spinning you around. You start, every muscle in your body tensing on instinct, but as you come face to face with familiar olive eyes you relax – it’s only Iwa.

He regards you silently for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face before he glances over your shoulder to where Oikawa’s still talking with the coaches.

“C’mon, they’ll be a while, I think. Let me walk you home.”

His place is almost a fifteen minute walk from yours, but you don’t bother trying to bring that up. Instead, you just shrug, shifting the strap of the bag slung over your shoulder, “It’s fine. I don’t need an escort, you know, it’s not that late.”

Maybe it’d be nice for once, walking home without Oikawa’s looming presence over your shoulder. You’re almost positive that he’ll still come by afterwards, especially because he knows as well as you do that there’s nobody to interrupt tonight, but you’ll take the tiny wins when you can.

Besides, you only have to stick it out a little while longer.

Still holding onto your arm, Iwa’s eyebrows draw together into a slight frown and he bites back a sigh, “Shittykawa’ll throw a hissy-fit if I let you walk home alone tonight. C’mon.”

He’s not asking, you realise belatedly as he firmly but gently starts to lead you out of the gym, not sparing his best friend another glance. And you could probably dig your heels in and kick up a fuss and he’d probably let you go – at least, you think he would. He would, right? He’d listen if you asked him to stop – but what’s the point?

Nobody here actually cares what you want anymore.

Iwa’s different, you suppose. You don’t really know why. He’s just as complicit as the others, maybe even more so – he at least knows what’s going on, even if he refuses to acknowledge it or do anything about it… but that’s not entirely true, is it?

He’s the one to step in when Oikawa starts to take things too far in public. He’s the one to scare off your would be bullies, snarling and glaring at them from his place at your side. Iwa’s the reason you haven’t lost it completely, the one keeping your head above water. He’s a friend you suppose, or at least the closest thing Oikawa’ll let you have anymore.

He’s certainly the only one Tooru trusts with you whenever he’s not around, hence you haven’t heard any indignant shouts from the gym following in your wake despite the grip he has on you.

And Iwa is nice, in his own way. He cares about you, you think – or he cares enough to pretend for Oikawa’s sake. Either way, at least you know he won’t try to pull you down an alleyway and force you to suck his cock, so compared to your other options, he’s definitely the lesser of two evils.

It’s quiet as the two of you walk, and you find yourself thankful for it. Oikawa’s always talking, he never shuts up, his incessant chatter shattering every moment of quiet, peaceful solitude you try to steal for yourself.

And tonight, tonight your head’s already too full to pretend to play along with some semblance of chipper friendliness.

Maybe that’s why you like Iwaizumi; you don’t have to pretend with him. He knows exactly what Oikawa is, and he’s too intelligent to believe that you’re content spending every waking moment by the setter’s side, much less that you genuinely love him.

It’s a nice night, at least – there’s barely any clouds in the sky. You can see the stars glittering in the inky, midnight blue, and it’s peaceful, you think, with Iwa strolling quietly along beside you.

Even when the breeze starts to pick up, the late summer night air nipping at your exposed skin. Your jacket’s folded up and shoved somewhere towards the bottom of your bag, but you honestly can’t be bothered to stop and ferret for it.

“You’re cold,” Iwa states after a beat. Again, not a question.

Nevertheless, you shake your head. “I’m fine,” you reply, perhaps a little tersely, but he’s already shrugging off his own jacket and draping it over your shoulders. Oikawa would do the same thing, more out of a perverse sense of enjoyment from seeing you wearing his clothes than a genuine sense of concern over your comfort.

Still, you don’t fight Iwa on it, pulling his jacket tighter over your body. It’s warm, his lingering body heat making your own cheeks burn a little, and it smells like him, too. Musky, yes, but there’s something almost comforting about the fresh, woodsy scent.

Silence resumes between the two of you, but you feel the weight of his stare as the two of you wander along the path. Iwaizumi’s always been perceptive, more so than most give him credit for, and it’s only another few minutes before he speaks again.

“You’re quiet tonight.”

You hum noncommittally, staring resolutely at the concrete sidewalk rather than meet his pointed gaze.

He huffs. “You gonna tell me what’s bothering you or not?” he tries again, the sheer bluntness almost enough to make you flinch.

“And what makes you think there’s anything bothering me?” you reply dully, kicking at the small little pebble on the pathway in front of you.

Iwa stiffens just a fraction, but you feel it – the shift in the air between the two of you. It’s the truth you won’t speak, the one he won’t acknowledge. Of course there’s something bothering you; this whole fucked up situation between the three of you. It’s not normal, it’s not healthy, surely he sees that, how the hell can he–

“Cut the bullshit,” he snaps. “You think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been acting lately? Something’s up, and if you think I’m the only one who’s paying attention…” he trails off, and suddenly his hand’s catching at yours, pulling you to a stop.

And when finally you drag your eyes up to meet his, your heartbeat quickens at the scowl written across his face, plain as day.

“I’m not talking about… that. Did he–” he hesitates, biting down on his lip and you honestly don’t know whether you want to laugh or cry. “Something’s up.”

You could probably tell him to mind his own business, and part of you almost wants to. He might even listen, though he wouldn’t be happy about it, but the thing is, you’re just so tired. Tired of playing girlfriend for Oikawa, tired of being dragged along against your will, manhandled and fucked at every opportunity, tired of pretending that this is in any way okay, and you just want to finally give in and admit it out loud.

You want this to be over, and it’s so close you can almost fucking taste it.

So you breathe deep, forcing yourself to relax. “My mom got a job in Tokyo. My parents… they’re leaving at the end of next week. Moving. It’s why they haven't been around much lately.”

Iwaizumi’s eyebrows furrow into a frown as he takes a second to absorb the information. “And… you? We only have a few months left until we graduate.”

You allow him a wry smile. “I know. They gave me a choice, I’m eighteen, I can stay here in the house by myself, finish up the year and graduate at Aoba Johsai before moving down with them…”

“Or?” he prods.

“Or,” you continue, “or I can go now. There’s some really good schools down there, I could have my pick. It’ll be a struggle, I know, transferring so late in the term, but–”

Iwaizumi scoffs, cutting you off, “But you’re not actually gonna go, right? You can’t just pack up and leave so close to graduation. You’re staying here in Miyagi.”

He almost sounds angry– the muscle in his jaw’s twitching and as you stare at him you realise that he doesn’t sound angry; he is angry. His whole body’s tensed like he’s preparing for a fight, and it takes you by surprise.

Sure, he’s pretty much the only person outside of Oikawa that you’d consider yourself to have any kind of relationship with anymore, but you’d never really thought he’d actually–

“Iwa,” you say gently, “I was gonna go to Tokyo after graduation anyway. Sure, it’s not exactly an ideal situation, but…”

But it’s your chance to get away from all of this, from Oikawa, and you’re gonna take it and run. Whether or not Tokyo University accepts you, whether it means you have to work three times as hard to adjust to a new school’s curriculum just so you won’t completely flunk your final exams.

It can’t be any worse than this.

He has to understand that.

And really, what did he think was going to happen after graduation? You know Oikawa’s plans, and you’ll be damned if you let him ruin your life anymore than he already has, dragging you halfway across the world. You belong here, in Japan. Oikawa can go chase his pipe dreams on his own.

He swallows tightly, and while the pinched scowl on his face doesn’t falter, his grip on your wrist eases just a fraction. “You were really just gonna leave without telling anybody?” he asks, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

“Who would I tell?”

—

Sure enough, it’s a little after midnight when your bedroom door sweeps open and Oikawa strides in like he owns the place. You watch through half lidded eyes as he starts to shed his clothes, stripping off and tossing them haphazardly onto the floor until he’s just in his boxers.

He doesn’t say much as he lifts the covers and climbs into bed beside you, merely presses a surprisingly gentle kiss to your cheek, murmuring a quiet, ‘Just sleep, cutie,’ when you try to shift away from him.

He sounds tired, exhausted really, but you don’t care enough to comment, relieved more than anything that tonight he doesn’t seem to have the energy for more. There’d been some part of you that was worried that Iwa might have told him about the walk home – the secrets you’d unthinkingly entrusted to him – but he can’t have. There’s no possible way Oikawa would be so calm right now if he had.

And Iwa wouldn’t do something like that in the first place.

It might not have been the most traditional of friendships, and you know he’s still a little pissed off with your decision and the fact you had no intentions of telling him, but Iwa wouldn’t break your trust like that.

And so with Oikawa’s arms wrapped around your middle, the warmth of his chest pressed up against your back, you allow sleep to claim you once more.

—

You hardly see him the following morning.

There’s no sign of him when you wake up, though his side of the bed is still warm – you know he likes to run in the mornings; he probably ran home to shower before school. And if you’re grateful to Aoba Johsai for anything, it’s for putting the two of you in separate classes. You’re spared his presence and those of his mooney eyed fangirls, and you can actually focus on learning. Or try to, at least.

Iwa regards you with an unreadable expression when you take your usual seat at the desk next to his, but at least he doesn’t seem as pissed off as he was when he left you last night. You only have a week and a half left until you go, but considering he’s the closest thing you have to a friend anymore, you’re not sure how you would survive if he suddenly decided to give you the cold shoulder.

Still, he is quieter than usual as you both settle into class, and you can’t help your gaze from flickering over to him throughout the lesson, an uncomfortable pit settling into your stomach. Iwa doesn’t so much as look your way, busying himself in copying down the notes the teacher’s scrawling on the board.

You honestly didn’t expect him to be hurt, and as he brushes past you on his way out after the bell rings you begin to doubt whether you should have told him at all. It stings, more than you expect.

Yet the moment you try to follow him, calling out his name, a familiar figure steps in front of you, halting you in your tracks.

“Hey, cutie,” Oikawa purrs, grinning down at you as he reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair back behind your ear. “I’ve missed you today. Come on, let’s go somewhere a little quieter.”

His fingers are laced with yours, tugging you along before you can even try to voice a protest. You both know you wouldn’t anyway, not anymore.

Just like you don’t speak up when instead of dragging you outside to the courtyard, or even to the gym, he chooses an empty classroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

There’s a question on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t have a chance to voice it as he grabs you by the collar of your shirt and smashes his lips to yours.

Oikawa usually likes to take his time, to drag out your humiliation and reluctant pleasure as he toys with you, but today he wastes no time in shoving you back up against one of the desk, his fingers already yanking down your necktie and prying your lilac shirt open – buttons scattering as it rips.

“Tooru–” you gasp, panic flaring, but his lips curl into a smirk as he forces you back into another kiss.

“Quiet now, cutie, let me take care of my pretty girl, hm?” he growls between panting breaths. “You don’t want somebody stumbling in and interrupting us, do you?”

And your chest tightens, squeezing around your lungs like a vice, your gaze flickering back to the door – shut but not locked.

“Tooru,” you whisper again in a panic, clutching at the lapels of his blazer as he draws back enough to level a gaze at your chest, bare save for the virginal white lace bra you’d unthinkingly chosen that morning.

His grin widens, but there’s something cold and utterly unflinching in his eyes as they flicker up to meet yours. “Lean back,” he tells you.

You shake your head, “I d-don’t–”

His hands are on your shoulders, abruptly shoving you backwards. “I said,” he coos as you sprawl back onto the wooden desktop with a startled squeak, “lean back for me.”

It’s been months since you’ve fought him, but as he flips up your skirt, fingers grazing possessively along the cotton of your panties and he sighs contentedly, sheer panic floods your system, overwhelming your better judgement. Before you can stop yourself your knees come up as you desperately scramble to right yourself, to put an end to this–

The slap to your cheek isn’t all that forceful, at least not compared to what you know him to be capable of, but it still takes you by surprise, the sharp, burning sting only registering as the shock of the blow fades.

Oikawa’s no longer grinning, his face twisted into a terrifying glare as wide, teary eyes stare back up at him. “Baby, you’re really testing me right now. You want to act like a disobedient little bitch, kick up a fuss, bring everybody running so they can see what a needy little whore you are, spread out on the table for me?” He snatches at your panties, harshly wrenching them down your now prone legs with one hand, the other reaching for his belt buckle, “You think you have a choice here? You think I give a fuck what you want?”

Your ears are ringing, the sound of your own heartbeat drowning out almost everything else.

It’s not the first time he’s hit you, or even the hardest, but with that one slap all the fight you have left just dissipates. You don’t even flinch when he spits directly onto your pussy, his thumb harshly spreading his saliva over your cunt – you just bite down on your lip to stifle the sob that threatens to burst.

And victory shines bright in his eyes at the sight of it.

“Good girl, you know who this pretty pussy belongs to, don’t you?” he croons with saccharine sweetness, even leaning over to press a tender, affectionate kiss to your swollen lips.

And you’d squeeze your eyes shut and try to imagine that you’re somewhere else, anywhere else if you didn’t know how much he hates it when you do. So instead, you lie there pliant and trembling, humiliation burning hot as he spreads your legs, pressing your thighs back towards your chest as he slots himself in between them.

“You look so good like this, you know?” he muses with a soft little chuckle as he leisurely strokes his cock, letting the flushed tip brush teasingly along your folds, nudging at your clit. “Prettiest little thing, and all mine, aren’t you, cutie.”

Tears well and spill soundlessly down your cheek, but your only answering is the hiccuping breath you draw in, your fingers finding purchase on the edges of the desk as he guides it back to your entrance.

It doesn’t matter that you’re not nearly ready for him, that his spit and the pre-cum that’s beading at his slit isn’t going to help ease his passage in the slightest. He’ll fuck you how he wants to – and you’re too broken to try and stop him.

Yet instead of savagely plunging in like you expect him to, Oikawa stills, regarding you with a tilted head and a cruel smirk.

“Fuck,” he curses quietly, the sound almost reverent as he stares down at you. He shakes his head, another soft laugh bubbling out, “I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of seeing you like this, but if you’re going to be running off on me so soon, maybe I should take a little memento, what do you think cutie?”

Your stomach drops, dread creeping down your spine as Oikawa reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, opening up the camera and flicking it across to video.

“I mean if this is going to be our last time together, don’t you think we should make it special?” You jerk, your breath coming out in short, harsh pants but you can’t move, can’t seem to lift a single finger as he leans in closer, bringing his lips to your ear, “That way we both have something to remember this by.”

And as his breath ghosts the tiny hairs on the shell of your ear he laughs again, pressing another quick kiss to your flushed, tear stained cheek. “Aw, don’t cry, cutie. You brought this on yourself.”

You don’t have a moment to prepare yourself, his hand slamming over your lips to muffle your shrieks as he thrusts his hips forward, sheathing himself in your tight little cunt with a choked moan.

“F-fuck, baby,” he grits out, biting down on his own lip as he relishes the vice like grip your pussy has on his throbbing cock, “Smile for the camera.”

Your back arcs up off the table, fingernails digging into the wood as he draws his hips back slowly, letting you feel every inch of his cock as it drags along your walls until it’s only the tip that remains inside of you.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts – a sharp and throbbing pain that only grows with each passing second.

There’s something sadistic in his grin as he angles the phone down to where your bodies meet, your lewdly spread thighs, your glistening pussy in perfect view as another glob of saliva joins the first, pooling over your sex, sliding down his cock.

“You have no idea how perfect your pussy feels, baby,” he pants, slowly filling you up once more – your own wails stifled by his hand. “You’re mine, all fucking mine, aren’t you?”

There’s no hiding from the camera as he fucks you, slowly at first, but picking up his pace as the slick starts to build, your warm, velvety walls sucking him in deeper, squelching obscenely with every thrust. And between the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass – skin hitting skin as he fucks you roughly without care – and Tooru’s own satisfied moans, your muffled whimpers and cries go unheard.

And just when you think your humiliation is complete, he takes his hand from your mouth, his thumb returning to your clit, teasing at the sensitive nub with slow, measured circles that have you keening, shaking beneath him as he stuffs you full. Slowly but surely that searing ache gives way to pleasure, a slight shift of his hips and his cock’s hitting that sweet spot he’s all too familiar with – and another strangled moan slips out.

“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

You shake your head, fingernails digging into the wood, biting down harshly to keep yourself quiet as you feel that familiar heat pooling in your core, wanton pleasure flickering through you with every swipe of his fingers, every harsh thrust.

“No? You sure about that?” he laughs at the desperate whine that slips from your lips, “I wanna hear it, baby. Cum for me.”

But you can’t, you can’t make a sound, the door’s not locked, the door’s not locked and anybody could walk in any second, but you can feel it coming, your legs shaking and toes curling as your control slips–

“Cum,” Oikawa demands, his own voice a husky, shivering growl, and this time you’re helpless but to obey.

Your orgasm crashes into you like a wave, suddenly sweeping your legs out from under you. You arc up off the table once more, white hot pleasure exploding as you shiver and quake, your pussy clamping down on his cock and gushing as he fucks you relentlessly through it, chasing his end while drawing out your own.

And you’re so lost in the bliss, the pleasurable rippling aftershocks short circuiting your system that you don’t even realise that he’s pulled himself out of your cunt, stroking his slicked up cock with harsh pants–

Not until you feel the hot spurts of his cum hitting your stomach, a choked moan resembling your name shattering the fuzzy afterglow, dragging you harshly back down to reality.

There’s a twisted, self satisfied smirk on his face as he watches the cold realisation sink in, your eyes filling with fresh tears as your gaze flickers between him and the phone in his hand, still filming.

“You’re not leaving me,” he says, still a little breathless. “You’re mine. Isn’t that right, Iwa?”

No.

Please god, no.

Blood drains from your face, the pit in your stomach plummeting as his smirk widens and he turns his head to glance over his shoulder. You don’t want to look, can’t bear to, but it’s like trying to rip your eyes away from a car crash; your body moves with a will of its own. Heart pounding, nausea churning in your gut, you follow his gaze to find Iwaizumi by the door; jaw tight, arms folded across his chest, staring impassively back at you.

And that last little piece of you breaks.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa #yandere oikawa toruu #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #tw non con #tw dub con #tw bullying #tw degradation #tw voyeurism #tw non con filming #tw abuse #ok it's 3:30 i need sleep

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nevermindirah · 3 years

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Do you have any thoughts on the use of AAVE for Nile (or lack thereof) in TOG fanfiction? I've been reading some Book of Nile fic and some writers seem to write her as a Millennial™ (using words like "fave" and "woke") but never acknowledge her Blackness in her patterns of speech. I know we don't see her use as much AAVE in the films, but I would argue she's in situations where code-switching would be valued (first in a "professional" environment in the army, then around a group of non-Black strangers).

Hi anon! I have many thoughts on this and I'm honored you asked me! But I should start by saying I'm white and any thoughts Black fans and especially Black American fans have on this that they want to share would be beyond lovely. (I'm not gonna tag anybody bc that feels rude but please add onto this post if any of y'all see this and want to!)

The main reason I personally avoid AAVE for Nile in my own fics is because I'm not Black. But Nile-centric fics by Black writers tend to avoid using much of it too, at least from what I've noticed/understood, and my guess is it's largely for the reason you mention, that she's in situations that encourage code-switching.

In movie canon Nile is highly competent at tailoring her language to each situation she finds herself in. This fantastic linguistics analysis meta shows how skillfully Nile chooses her vocabulary and grammar to meet her goals with different conversation partners in different contexts. In comics canon Nile had a bunch of different civilian jobs before joining the Marines, so she would've had experience code-switching in the ways that made sense for all those different contexts as well as the Marines and her family and high school and wherever else she spent her time before we met her. And now she's spending her time with a handful of immortals none of whom are native English speakers and a fellow Black American but one with a Queen's English UK accent whose professional experience is in the CIA where high-status code-switching is often an absolute must for success or even survival.

Fics featuring Nile are charged with extrapolating from that to how it might show up in her use of language that she's coping with a traumatic separation from her family and her career and pretty much everything she's ever known and now she needs to be able to make herself understood to people who seem to care about her and each other but are super duper in crisis, three (soon to be four) of whom predate Modern English entirely and the only one who's anywhere near her contemporary she's not supposed to talk to for a century. All of these people are telling her that pretty much any contact with any mortals poses an existential threat to her and the rest of the group. How the FUCK is she supposed to cope with that, like, generally? And would it be a more effective way for her to cope if she talked to Andy Joe and Nicky using the speech patterns that she used to use with her mom and brother, to at least retain that part of her identity even if it means having to do a lot of explaining, or would it meet her needs better to prioritize Andy Joe and Nicky understanding what she means with her words over using the particular words and grammar forms she used with her family?

I've seen several fics, both Nile-centric / BoN and otherwise, explore this a little bit in how/whether Nile uses Millennial™ speak. It's often a theme in Nile texting Booker despite the exile because of the popular headcanon that he as The Tech Guy is the only other immortal who understands memes. But Nile's much-younger-than-Booker mom probably uses Boomer and/or Gen X memes and Andy has been adapting to new communication styles for forever as evidenced by her canon high level of fluency with standard-American-accented English.

Which brings us back to people avoiding AAVE because they're not Black and they don't want to make mistakes (or they're not Black and they don't want to get yelled at for making mistakes, though I think many people overestimate how much they'll get yelled at while underestimating how much these mistakes can hurt). I can imagine some Black fans hold back from using much AAVE in fic because they don't want to share in-group stuff with white people who are likely to then adopt and ruin it, as white people so often do with Black cultural stuff. Some links about this including a great Khadija Mbowe video. I'm saying this gently, anon, because you might not know: woke, an example you cited as Millennial™ speak, is AAVE, and that's gotten erased by so many white people appropriating it and using it incorrectly online.

And also there's the part where fandom is a hobby and you never know when you're reading a fic that's the very first thing someone's ever written outside of a school assignment. This cultural considerations of language shit takes a level of effort and skill that not everybody puts into every fic, or even could if they wanted to because they haven't had time to build their skills yet. It's definitely easier for non-Black fans to project our millennial feels onto Nile than to do the layers of research and self-reflection it requires to depict what Blackness might mean to Nile, and it's not surprising that often people sharing their hobby creations on the internet have gone the easier route. There's not even necessarily shame in doing what's easier. It's just frustrating and often hurtful when structural white supremacy means that 3-dimensional Black characters are rare in media and thoughtful explorations of them in fandom are seen by the majority of fans as not-easy to make and therefore Nile Freeman, the main character in The Old Guard (2020) dir. Gina Prince-Bythewood, has the least fic and meta and art made about her of our 5 main immortals.

I've been active in different fandoms off and on for twenty years and I barely managed to write 5,000 words about Sam Wilson across multiple different fics in the 7 years since I fell in love with him. There's an alchemy to which characters we connect with, and on top of that which characters we connect with in a way that causes us to create stuff about them. Something about Nile Freeman finally tipped me over the edge from a voracious reader to a voracious writer. It's not for me to judge which characters speak to other individuals to the level of creating content about them, but I do think it's important for us to notice, and then work to fight, the pattern where across this fandom as a whole Nile gets way less content, and way less depth in so much of the content that's in theory about her, than any of these other characters.

Anyway, back to language. My two long fics feature Nile with several Black friends — Copley and OCs and cameos from other media — but all of those characters except Alec Hardison from Leverage aren't American. It's very possible I'm guilty of stereotyping Black British speech patterns in I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore. I watched hours and hours of Black haircare YouTube videos in the research for that fic and I modeled my OCs' speech patterns on what I heard from some of those YouTubers as well as what I've heard people like John Boyega and Idris Elba saying in interviews, but the thing about doing your best is you still might fuck up.

I'm slowly making progress on my WIP where Nile and Sam Wilson are cousins, and what ways of talking with a family member might be authentic for Nile is a major question I need to figure out. For that, I'm largely modeling my writing choices on how I hear my Black friends and colleagues talking to each other. I haven't overheard colleagues talking in an office in a long-ass time, but back when that was a thing, I remember seeing a ton of nuance in the different ways many of my Black colleagues would talk to each other. Different people have different personalities! And backgrounds! And priorities! A few jobs ago my department was about 1/3 Black and we worked closely with Obama administration staff many of whom were Black and there was SO MUCH VARIETY in how Black people talked to each other, about work and workplace-appropriate personal stuff, where I and other white coworkers could hear. There are a few work friends in particular who I have in my head when I'm trying to imagine how Sam and Nile might talk to each other. From the outside looking in, God DAMN is shit complicated, intellectually and interpersonally and spiritually, for Black people who are devoting their professional lives to public service in the United States.

One more aspect of this that I have big thoughts on but I need to take extra care in talking about is the idea of acknowledging Nile's Blackness in her patterns of speech. There's no one right way to be Black, and Nile's a fictional character created by a white dude but there are plenty of real-life Black Americans who don't use much or even any AAVE, for reasons that are complicated because of white supremacy. (Highly highly recommend this video by Shanspeare on the harms of the Oreo stereotype.)

Something that's not the same but has enough similarity that I think it's worth talking about is my personal experience with authenticity and American Jewish speech patterns. My Jewish family members don't talk like they're in The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, and I've known lots of people who do talk that way (or the millennial version of it), some of whom have questioned my Jewishness because I don't talk that way. That hurts me. Sometimes when another Jew tells me some shit like "I've never heard a Jew say y'all'd've," I can respond with "well now you have asshole, bless your Yankee-ass heart," because the myth of Dixie is a racist lie but I will totally call white Northerners Yankees when they're being shitty to me for being Southern, and this particular Jew fucking revels in using "bless your heart" with maximum polite aggression, especially with said Yankees. But sometimes I don't have it in me to say anything and it just quietly hurts having an important part of me disbelieved by someone who shares that important part of me. The sting isn't quite the same when non-Jews disbelieve or discount my Jewishness, but that hurts too.

Who counts as authentically Jewish is a messy in-group conversation and it doesn't really make sense to explain it all here. Who counts as authentically Jewish is a matter of legal status for immigration, citizenship, and civil rights in Israel, and it's my number 2 reason after horrific treatment of Palestinians that I'm antizionist. But outside that extremely high-stakes legal situation, it can just feel really shitty to not be recognized as One Of Us, especially by your own people.

It can also feel really shitty to be The Only One of Your Kind in a group, even if that group is an immortal chosen family who all loves each other dearly. Sometimes especially in a situation like that where you know those people love you but there are certain things they don't get about you and will never quite be able to. I'm definitely projecting at least a little bit of my "lonely Jew who will be alone again for yet another Jewish holiday" stuff onto Nile when at the end of I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore she's thinking about being the only Black immortal and moving away from the community she'd built with a mostly-Black group of mortals in that fic. Maybe that tracks, or maybe that's fucked up of me.

Basically, this got very long but it's complicated, writing about experiences that aren't your own takes skill which in turn takes time and practice to build, writing about experiences not your own that our society maligns can cause a lot of harm if done badly, it can also cause a lot of harm when a large enough portion of a fandom just decides to nope out of something that's difficult and risky because then there's just not much content about a character who deserves just a shit ton of loving and nuanced content, people are individuals and two people who come from the exact same cultural context might show that influence in all kinds of different ways, identity is complicated, language is complicated, writing is hard, and empathy and humility and doing our best aren't a guarantee of avoiding harm but they do go a long way in helping people create thoughtful content about a character as awesome and powerful and kind and messy and scared and curious and WORTHY as Nile Freeman.

#nile freeman #linguistics #TOG POC Love Fest #nileweek2021 #tog meta #tog #long post #mine #antiblackness #jewish things #hi i'm an antizionist jew no i don't really want to talk about it

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ratmonky · 3 years

Text

Death Drive

Word Count: 5.5K

Warnings: non-con, mild blood, choking, biting, fight/violence, burns, tentacle

AO3 Link

A gift to my lovely friend who also drew this gorgeous piece for this fic, @bacterialheaven <3 (Your art fascinates me so much ahh T^T)

Although most of the devil hunters have the life instinct, I think Hirofumi doesn't care much about survival while doing his work, making him the perfect example of an individual with a death drive. Just like Kishibe (:

The depths of the ocean had many things hidden at the bottom where sunlight never reached. Fish still yet to be discovered, monsters and devils.

Swimming in the ocean was something you could never do since the thought of never knowing what might be hiding underneath the dark waters was horrifying.

However, the terrifying creatures of the ocean could never get you as long as you stayed on the land.

Right?

~~~

Hitchhiking wasn’t as dangerous as you had anticipated. When you told your close friends that you would be making your way out of the city by hitchhiking, they warned you about the dangers of getting in the car with someone who might want to hurt you. No matter how much you tried to explain to them how you had to lay low and stay away from any public transportations to not get caught, they didn’t listen.

However you hadn’t listened to them either, that was why you were sitting on your luggage near the roadside. You were only a couple of towns away from the city but you still had a long way to travel.

It had taken you more than a dozen rides to get to here from where you had started. Normally it would take two hours by car to travel here but it took you eight hours to get where you were now.

It was getting late, your last ride had promised to drop you off next to a place you could stay the night but the man was too creepy to look at and you felt uneasy to be stuck in the truck with him.

Naturally, you had insisted that he dropped you off on the first roadside diner.

You regretted it now. It was the middle of the night, you didn’t have any place to stay and the roadside diner you had been planning to eat was out of your budget.

Either you had to get a ride now to save money to travel to a cheaper roadside diner or go out of your budget and stay the night here feasting on food… The latter option was the worst. Saving money was more important.

You knew how to attract a ride anyway. Smile in a friendly way, hold up your ‘going to the countryside!’ sign, and hope for the best. You wouldn’t wait any longer than between ten to fifteen minutes before hitching a ride but it was almost impossible to get a ride at night.

There was no way that someone would drive you to the next town or somewhere you could sleep. Everyone was on the edge because of the devil attacks that had started happening more frequently.

No. Don’t think about devils. Not now. Not ever.

With a long sigh, you redirected the light from your flashlight onto the map. You could wait until the morning or start walking on the side of the road until you came across a gas station; however, it all felt like a waste of time and effort. This side of the city didn’t have anything but trees on the roadsides. It could be dangerous to walk close to the forest at night too, you had heard the devils who lived in nature would come out at night.

The sound of your stomach grumbling brought you out of your frantic thoughts.

You were starving, the last thing you ate was a granola bar in the morning. It had been quite a while since you had last eaten but if you went over your budget, you might not be able to make it to your destination.

“Where are you headed?”

Startled, you turned your head to the man who was talking to you. He looked around your age, he had black hair and a rather creepy smile tugging at his lips.

“Um, the countryside.”

“Oh, you’re all alone?” he asked.

You nodded to confirm. Then internally yelled at yourself for telling him that you were alone. He could be someone dangerous.

“I’m headed to the countryside too, want me to give you a ride?” He gestured towards a black car parked in front of the diner.

You would have taken his offer if it weren’t for the sinister smile on his face.

“Thank you but I wouldn’t want to be a burden.” You averted your gaze from him and shone the light back on the map.

“It’s dangerous to be out this late at night.” He put his hands in his pockets, shrugging slightly. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing I didn’t take you to safety.” He gestured towards the parked car behind him once again. “I'll give you a ride, free of charge.”

He had cornered you, there was no reason for you to refuse his offer. You were still conflicted though, you would have turned him down if it wasn’t this late in the night. He didn’t look like the type of person to take no for an answer either. You couldn’t say no to his generous offer but you kept hesitating. If you were to find the perfect excuse maybe he would leave. However, you didn’t have any excuses.

Ugh!

Why were you even hesitating? You needed a ride and here was this guy, offering to take you away from the doomed city. You hit the jackpot!

“A-are you sure?”

“Come on, I was about to leave.”

“Ah, I can’t thank you enough.” Gathering the stuff you had with you and putting away the flashlight, you forced yourself to smile at him. “You saved me from waiting who knows how long for another ride.”

He didn’t say anything as he led the way towards his car. Opening the baggage, he let you put your luggage in the back and closed it. As you were walking around the car to open the door and sit on the back seat, the guy spoke before he hopped on the driver seat himself.

“I have stuff in the back, sit on the front.”

You stared inside through the window to see two large black bags on the backseats. Reluctantly, you reached to open the front door and climbed inside the car.

“So, where are you exactly headed?” He asked as he put on his seatbelt.

His question brought you out of your frantic thoughts. “Somewhere remote.”

“Hmm, so no specific destination? Don’t you have a family member who’s waiting for you? Where are you going to stay?”

You didn’t have anywhere to stay. At least not yet. Your plan was to find a motel and stay somewhere remote until people forgot about you.

Most importantly, it didn’t feel like he was asking these questions to start a conversation. You changed your mind, wanting to get out of the car.

You turned your head to tell him that but his unsettling stare left you speechless.

He asked a more particular question. “Do you have a specific address you want me to drop you off to?”

“I-in front of the first cheap motel we come across would be perfect.” You clutched on your small shoulder bag. You felt nervous when people stared at you for too long.

He hummed in acknowledgment as the car rolled forward.

“You seem to have a lot of luggage. Moving somewhere?” he spoke again, taking a turn and getting on the highway.

Your head jerked up, looking at him. “Um, uh.” You were hesitant to lie. “I’m just backpacking around the country.”

“Wouldn’t it be cheaper to bike instead of hitchhiking?” He wasn’t even facing you but you could tell he was smirking at your utter stupidity. “Or rather do it with a group?”

Although your throat felt dry, you didn’t dare to swallow. “Probably but I wanted to have a little adventure for myself, alone.”

“Don’t backpackers usually have a backpack and not a luggage?”

“I just have too many things I need with me.” Ahh, you were so bad at lying. Stop fidgeting with your fingers and looking around like that. He will notice. Just… change the subject. “A-anyway, I don’t think we introduced ourselves. I’m (name), what’s your name?”

“Hirofumi.” He grabbed the gear shift, changing it to a higher level and speeding up. You sank deeper into your seat and started to panic. Only then you realized you hadn’t put on your own seatbelt. While you were hurriedly trying to put it on, Hirofumi pressed on the cigarette lighter button. You hoped he wasn’t going to smoke inside the car but failed to notice how there weren't any cigarette tar stains on the interior of the car.

He took a sharp turn, you grunted but managed to put your seatbelt on. As you sat back in your seat, the first thing you noticed was that he was driving down towards a road leading towards the forest.

“Um, I think you took a wrong turn,” you said, bringing it up to his attention.

“It’s a shortcut.” He kept his eyes on the road that was only being illuminated by the headlights, everything else was dark, you had no idea what kind of shortcut he was taking.

There was this feeling of being in the middle of the ocean. You could feel something sinister was lingering in the deep dark water underneath you. Something was about to emerge and grab you by your ankle, pull you down, and drown you.

You knew how to swim.

However, could you swim if whatever thing was pulling you down turned out to be a lot stronger and scarier than anything you had ever faced?

Could you struggle when you were this weak?

Could you fight when you had nothing to fight with?

Without your weapons.

Without your badge.

Without your devil.

“You know, hitchhiking was a great idea,” he said, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he continued smiling. “It was a smart option but for someone as dumb as you, there was a way to ruin it. You went and told all of your dumb friends about your plan.”

You stared at him for some sort of explanation but you didn’t need any. Yet you still asked him, whimpering, “W-what are you talking about?” Your bottom lip had started trembling.

He knew.

“For a devil hunter, your sense of danger is too low.”

A tremendous wave of panic washed over you when he sped up.

“Who are you?” Did you even need to ask? He was one of those private hunters. Makima had most likely sent him after you.

Despite being a devil hunter from the city, you were now weak. You had resigned from your work without notice and broke the deal with your devil. Although it had been an impending decision rather than a sudden one, you had left your work abruptly.

After watching so many people die and losing who you had thought would be your friends for a long time, the bitter truth of being a devil hunter had resurfaced.

Devil hunters were destined to die on the job, sooner or later.

The money you earned from being a devil hunter could let you live in comfort materialistically until the day you died but having to suffer from nightmares every single time you put your head on the pillow or closed your eyes could never be comforting. It wasn’t worth it.

You didn’t want to lose more people or see any more grotesque devils murdering civilians but once you started working under Makima’s orders, leaving wasn’t that easy.

That’s why you were on the run.

Even though you had sworn to protect the people of your country, you were running away from the job that gave you a purpose to your insignificant life like a coward.

How childish.

The cigarette lighter popped off with a soft click sound, bringing you out of your hectic thoughts.

He was taking you back… He was going to hand you over to Makima. You were going to work until you died.

“You should’ve gone up north, going south was predictable. Well, at least if you hadn’t told your friends about the hitchhiking part, maybe you’d go under everyone’s radar. However you’re a chatty one, aren’t you? Some ‘friendship comes before work’ type of person, huh? That would explain a lot-”

Hirofumi’s words didn’t reach you anymore. The color drained from your face and your ears started ringing. Your whole body started to shake, and tears started streaming down your cheeks. “Please,” you sobbed, your voice came out shaky, pathetic. “Please don’t do this. I did nothing. I’m just tired of all of the deaths and I can’t handle it any-”

“You can’t talk your way out of this,” Hirofumi said as he took another sharp turn, driving deeper into the forest.

You found yourself stuttering, ”Y-you don’t understand.” You looked at Hirofumi with tears in your eyes. “I’ll be killed.”

“What are you so unhappy with?” Hirofumi spoke again but he wasn’t even facing you. “It’s not like you were living contentedly up until now, were you? In that case, it makes no difference where you live or what you do for a living. Or if you’re killed or not.”

Your face found a new shade of pale. He wouldn’t understand. He was one of those crazy devil hunters who had shut their humanity off.

“You only had to kill demons for a bit and you got rice every day. It might as well be heaven but I guess you weren’t a real hunter.” His smile grew wider as he was watching the trees creep towards him slowly before zooming past the window. “You can die in peace now.”

You got quiet but your tears didn’t stop.

With a vicious smile on his lips, Hirofumi turned away to face you. “You know, a pro devil hunter wouldn’t cry.”

Everything was spinning, it made you believe that your head felt fuzzy. It didn’t even occur to you that he was driving at a normal speed now. Almost immediately you tried to think of an escape plan. Could you manage to run away if you were taken to the headquarters? There was no way you could and that was why you had to fight with everything you had to refuse to go with him. You looked out of the window, the forest could be a great way to lose him. The trees and the darkness could cover you, giving you the advantage to sneak away without having to face this guy in a battle. What was your next move going to be?

You didn’t know but you had to get away.

You stared at the door lock, it was locked but you could lift it even without him noticing. The speed was still accelerating but if you managed to jump out of the car you would have a head start by running. The car wouldn’t stop until his shock wore off and that would give you the great advantage of looking for a place to hide.

There weren’t many people or devils out in the forest at this time of the night. Hopefully. It would be easy for you to run without being seen by another person who could tell him where you went.

What if a devil attacked-

Getting overwhelmed, you took a sharp breath and exhaled loudly. You had to calm down. You didn’t have much time to think over the plan, you just had to do it. If you waited for too long you were going to lose this chance of getting away.

Hesitantly, you glanced at Hirofumi. To your luck, he was only focused on driving.

Cone on. Come on. Come on.

Your heart was pounding, a single cold sweat droplet trickled down from the burning skin of your temple to your cheek as you carefully and suddenly unlocked the door. But you forgot about the most important thing. Your seatbelt. Your biggest mistake was forgetting to unbuckle your seatbelt. As you had twisted your body to jump out of the car, you had found yourself stuck, slammed back into your seat from the force of the seatbelt itself.

Hirofumi stared at you as if it wasn’t a big deal that you opened the door of the moving vehicle or how you were trying to escape. He lifted his right hand up while he crossed his middle and index fingers, “Octopus.”

Your blood ran cold as a giant tentacle emerged outside of the car from a dark cloud and slammed the door closed. You were frozen in your seat as if your muscles had dried up and turned to stone.

What was that?

No, you didn’t want to know.

The car decelerated until it slowly rolled to a stop.

You didn’t dare to look at Hirofumi but you knew he was smiling at you. You knew he had that sinister smile plastered on his face, glowering at you with his big dark eyes.

“Ink.”

He turned off the engine, the headlights flickered off and it became pitch black. Darker than black. It all swallowed you whole. It was as if light didn't exist, the only thing you could see was the dangerous glint in his eyes.

Hirofumi calmly plucked off the burning hot cigarette lighter and held his hand out towards you but you couldn't see. “Ms. Makima told me to bring you to the headquarters,” he said, pausing momentarily as you were trembling in fear, unable to move a muscle. “Dead or alive. I get paid either way.”

You gulped audibly. This was it, wasn’t it? The end.

There was another long pause before he sighed and pressed the cigarette lighter on your thigh. “Look me in the eye when I’m talking to you.”

The sharp pain made your eyes widen and your mouth popped open in pain. You could run away, you just had to unbuckle the seatbelt and bolt out of the car.

However, as soon as your hand went to the buckle to pop the latch plate out, he firmly pressed the metal lighter on the back of your hand.

Yowling in agony, you refused to retrieve your hand and instead unbuckled your seatbelt. Without giving him another chance to attack, you opened the door.

As soon as you fell on the mud, you took a couple of wobbly steps before finally gaining your strength and used the ground as a springboard to start running without looking back. Things weren't as dark now, you could see well but you still were confused about things. Without actually having a clear idea of your whereabouts you kept running deeper into the forest but you couldn’t run in a straight line, you had to confuse him with which way you were running. Abruptly, you stopped to look around to see where you could run. The sudden movements made you lose your balance, stumble and fall down. You scraped your knees. Without checking your injuries, you got up to make a sudden bolt to your right.

Your own heavy footsteps were echoing each time your foot made contact with the wet mud. Or... no. Those weren't echoes of your own footsteps they were more like- They belonged to someone else-

“You’re running too slow.” A scoff.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him running next to you. He wasn’t out of breath like you were but he lifted his hand towards you, pointing his forefinger at your face before crossing his middle finger over the other digit.

He was going to call out his devil again.

With a sob, you made a move to change your direction but it was too late.

“Octopus.”

Black smoke appeared behind him. From the dark mist, a tentacle emerged, abruptly grabbing you by the waist, you flailed violently as soon as your body crashed onto the tentacle. It lifted you up, punching the air out of your lungs from the force of its grip around your body. You started hitting the tentacle’s slimy skin, crying and yelling at the same time. “Let me go, let go!”

Hirofumi pressed his hand on the tentacle and walked towards you while dragging his hand on it. “You’re more fun than I thought.”

As he was getting closer, you struggled within the tentacle’s hold by kicking helplessly at the air. “Get away from me!”

He stopped in front of you and looked up at you with that same disturbing smile before tapping on the tentacle twice. “I took a liking to you.” The tentacle lowered you down until Hirofumi tapped on it again to stop. “You’re quite interesting.”

The tentacle tightened its grip around you and forced your arms to be pressed against your chest. You were getting crushed, you kept trying to inhale but no air was going inside your lungs.

“However it still would be less of a hassle for me to take your corpse to Ms. Makima. You’re just too annoying.”

Fear came rushing back, the bitter reality of how insignificant your life was a harsh truth to accept. Hirofumi could kill you without batting an eye, he would be fine with taking your life because at the end of the day he was going to get paid for doing his job.

You opened your mouth to beg for his mercy but nothing would come out. Your face was turning blue from lack of air instead.

Hirofumi said something you couldn’t hear. Instantly the tentacle’s hold loosened around you. With the pressure gone, you greedily inhaled air, filling up your lungs and coughing.

“I’ll make it quick,” he said, this time frowning instead of smiling. “What a shame though, I thought we’d be able to work together in the future.”

“W-wait!” you coughed, trying to catch your breath to talk to him. “No, no, no! Please, I’ll do anything. Please, I won’t try to run again, I’ll sit patiently and- and-”

He was very quiet, almost silent, but resolute. The blood in your face drained away when you heard his cold and terrifying tone asking you a question with three simple words, “You’ll do anything?”

Your eyes widened as you tried to process the meaning behind his words, you could feel your blood being pumped through your veins but something was wrong, there was a heavy feeling of something crawling under your skin.

“I’ll do anything.”

That sinister smile returned to his face.

The tentacle lowered you, now, your feet could touch the solid ground.

“I want you to prove me wrong,” he said, stretching his arms above his head.

“Huh?” The tentacle unwrapped around you but remained at the back while you stared at the guy in front of you in confusion. “Prove what?”

He positioned himself in a fighting pose. “Prove that you’re a devil hunter worth keeping alive. Let’s duke it out.”

He had to be kidding. You were nothing without a weapon or your devil. It was unfair to you and-

Hirofumi landed a sudden kick on your stomach, doubling in pain, you took a couple of wobbly steps back.

When you glanced up at him, you saw him jumping in his place as if he was only warming up. He was taunting you, don’t fall for it.

Yet you knew he wasn’t kidding about you proving him that you were a good hunter. He had made it clear. So you had no choice but to take him down if you wanted to live.

You aimed a kick towards him but he caught you mid-air by your ankle. Whimpering, you tried pulling your leg back to no avail. The panic of the situation started to settle in as he got closer to you. “That’s cute, you didn’t even put any strength behind your kick.” He tucked your leg around his waist, closing the distance between the two of you. His face had gotten awfully close, his hot breath ghosted over your face. For the first time tonight, you looked at his eyes directly, his pupils were dilated to the point of being completely black. You could see your own terrified expression being reflected back to you in them. To put it simply, you were at his mercy once again, balanced only on a single leg with no way of escaping his hold.

“You lose,” he grinned. “You really aren’t cut out to be a devil hunter.”

“Please,” you began but he interrupted you, his other hand pressing on the small of your back and sliding down your curves to squeeze a generous amount of the supple flesh of your ass. Your breath hitched, the uneasy feeling of being powerless against a higher rank like him made your stomach churn in fear.

“Let’s have some fun before you die.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

With that, the tentacle returned, abruptly going under your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. You didn’t even get the time to react as Hirofumi let your leg down to shove you forward against the tentacle. Gasping, you planted your hands against the tentacle in a pathetic attempt to push yourself up but it was now impossible with his weight pressing you down. His hands were holding your hips in a death grip and rubbing your clothed ass onto his own clothed crotch. You were moving away from his hips helplessly, unaware of the tentacle pushing your bra up to let your tits bounce free. Only when the cool air hit your bare chest, you became aware of what the tentacle was doing. Your nipples perked up and the slimy skin caressing your skin made you flinch, the feeling of one of its suckers on your nipple was enough to make you shriek in disgust.

Hirofumi chuckled, his hands on your hips slid up, feeling your curves before dragging you against his clothed cock. He couldn’t help but grab your hair to pull it as he grinded against your ass with a little too much force. You could feel him growing bigger, he had to be a twisted creep to get off to this.

“Stop… no more…” Begging, you turned your head to look at him. With the way he was pressing you down, you couldn’t meet his gaze, instead found your cheek being pressed flat against the tentacle. Ignoring your pleads, Hirofumi pulled himself back to yank your pants down hurriedly as the tentacle latched one of the suckers on your nipple, toying with the sensitive nub. You started to breathe hard as the realization of how vulnerable you actually were hit you hard. All you could do was to pathetically attempt to get away from Hirofumi to be assaulted by the tentacle instead.

Then the loud sound of his belt buckling made you jolt, the tears and begging for him to stop came right after. You would do anything for him to stop. However your cries were ineffective, they didn’t stop him from pulling down your panties and drinking up the sight of your naked lower half. They only seemed to spur him on even more.

“Stop…” you whimpered and struggled. Tears started streaming down your face as a choked sob left your lips. He smiled against the skin on your shoulder in response while lining himself on your entrance. Twisting your arm behind your back to keep you still, he put his entire weight behind his hips to surge them forward and buried the entire length of his cock in your cunt.

Wincing, you gasped. Hirofumi took it as a signal to move. You were awfully wet, each time he pulled back himself to slam his hips forward, the squelching sounds of your pussy filled the silence of the forest. If that wasn't gross enough, your cheek was being grazed against the slimy skin of the tentacle, its fishy stench started to overwhelm you, making you gag.

“Ahh, you like this don’t you?” He tentatively pulled his hips back to abruptly slam them into your pussy.

“No…” You bit back a moan, closing your eyes and begging for all of it to stop internally.

“You’re getting off to this, you’re sopping wet.” Hirofumi mounted you completely, you could feel his entire weight settle on your back. “Be a good girl for me, will you? Be honest, it’s just the two of us here.”

You grumbled in response.

“Makima isn’t listening.” He nosed some hair out of his way to whisper in your ear. “Only I will hear your confessions. You can tell me anything, trust me.”

“Go to hell,” you hissed. If he was going to kill you, so be it! You weren’t going to give him the pleasure of humiliating you. All you had left was your pride and you were planning to keep it until the very end.

He slammed his hips forward, hitting your sweet spot on the first try. His firm thrust was all it took for you to silently scream, with the air in your lungs completely gone from the impact, you were clenching around his cock. You opened your mouth to take in some air but the tentacle wrapped around your neck, squeezing tightly around you to prevent you from breathing. The tip of the tentacle forced its way into your mouth and swirled around your tongue before diving deeper down into your throat. Hirofumi placed his hand on the tentacle, tapping twice for it to loosen around your neck. The tentacle left your mouth with a disgusting pop sound. Then he replaced the tentacle with his own hand, shoving his fingers into your mouth and grabbing you from the inside of your cheek.

Now, when he thrust forward and picked up his pace, you couldn’t bite back your moans. To your utter horror, it worked. Every thrust of his hips left you moaning, gasping for air. His merciless, rough thrusts remarkably sped up, especially in comparison to before. He was humping you like a rabid dog now and he responded to your surprised moan with a long, pleased hum.

Your drool started to spill out from your mouth and down to your chin since you didn’t have the luxury to swallow the saliva with three long digits prying your mouth open. You moaned audibly and threw your head back when his cock stroked a specific spot along your insides, Hirofumi took this opportunity to bite into your nape hard enough to draw blood, on a second note, you started to think he could be an actually rabid dog.

A scream left your lips, more out of pleasure than pain.

Hirofumi’s teeth sank deeper into your flesh as he felt your gummy walls pulsate around his cock, clenching and begging to be filled with his seed. He gave a muffled chuckle against your flesh, chewing on the raw skin. Although you weren’t honest in the slightest, your body was.

The tentacle’s tip went between your legs and the sucker latched onto your clit, catching you by surprise and making your entire body shake in pleasure.

How cute.

With a delighted smile, Hirofumi stopped biting your nape. He licked your blood off of your skin all the while he was fucking you frenziedly, thrusting in and out your pussy with sloppily wet sounds that started to make your knees unbuckle. Swallowing down your pride, you gave in to the pleasure so you could move your hips and arch your back to meet his frantic thrusts. At the same time, the tentacle toyed with the sensitive nub. It all made your legs trembled under you as your moans got louder than before.

Hirofumi's pace suddenly slackened when his cock throbbed upon your walls clamping on him. Taking his hand from your mouth, he placed it on your shoulder to grab you. He pulled his hips back and abruptly slammed forward, punching the air out of your lungs one last time as you felt the slight twitch of his balls on your skin before a pleasing warmth filled your belly.

The tentacle moved in tight circles around your clit and you clenched around Hirofumi’s cock for the last time, milking more of his seed using your pulsating walls inside of your cunt. Even after the tentacle left you alone, Hirofumi continued fucking his cum into your pussy, gross squelching sounds from his seed gushing out from your abused hole had become a white noise to you at this point. By the time he pulled out of you and let you go, your legs gave up from under you. Before you could crash on the dirty mud, the tentacle caught you, holding you up in a gentle grip.

Hirofumi was tucking himself into his pants while you watched him in exhaustion. He noticed your stare and gave you the same unsettling smile. “I think you’d be a great devil hunter if you were partnered up with me. Makima would agree if I said so. Won’t you agree too?”

You couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore but you managed to blink slowly in response, mouthing a ‘yes’ in defeat.

Hirofumi’s eerie smile grew wider, his eyes squinted from his cheeks puffing up. “I look forward to working with you in the future.”