Days of despair (betaed!) - Chapter 1, part 2
It felt so wrong for you - the feelings you had for the Pineapple. It wasn’t all about love anymore. You lusted for him so desperately that you couldn’t keep your hands away from your dick.
You couldn’t help getting hard when you brushed against each other squeezed tightly sitting by the low table at that perverted blonde’s shop making you unable to focus on the whole talk about war, about the god-wannabe prick and his merry army.
Or when the two of you sparred and he lost pieces of clothing showing off patches of tanned, inked skin you so longed to touch. When he was panting heavily, sprawled on the ground too exhausted to move, simply begging you to launch yourself at him, to twist your fingers in that red mane and tug harshly as he’d howl into your mouth. As he’d grind against your body, clinging to you desperately holding onto your tattered resolve.
Or in the healing hot spring when you couldn’t tear your eyes off of him, off the droplets of water streaming down his body in little rivulets followed by your hungry gaze until they reached the surface. More than once you almost drowned yourself to hide the blush and the lustful gaze, to avoid difficult questions.
You moaned his name into your pillow night after night as your release washed over you spilling all over your hand, your bed sheets, your sanity, before drowning in self-hatred. You thought for it to be disgusting to do that while imagining being fucked into the mattress by your best friend, fucking him against the nearest wall and yet you couldn’t stop yourself.
It was a vicious circle that you were unable to break.
You were so pathetic.
And then one day you thought of using me.
You needed someone to hate you, to despise you with all his might. But you couldn't hurt your friends; they were too precious to you. You couldn’t bear making them suffer. You were there to protect them - or so you wanted to think. You couldn't hurt your foes either. No matter what, your honor, your pride wouldn’t let you.
That's why you chose to inflict pain upon yourself, upon the dark part of you. Upon me.
--
You were wounded, both by the love you felt for him and by me - the one that never let any opportunity to mock you pass. By your own heart and soul. You felt beleaguered because we left you nowhere to run trapping you between us. With us. And you felt as if there was nothing you could do.
All my efforts for nothing.
Why couldn’t you understand that all I ever did was for you? To make you stronger when you needed power to face your opponents, to help you find your resolve, to get the old you back, to force you to live your life as normally as a shinigami substitute could.
Why couldn’t you understand that there was more to life than pain, that life wasn’t all about him and the secrets you wanted to keep?
I knew you felt overwhelmed, that you were drowning, that it all ate you from inside, but why the hell couldn’t you hold onto what I was offering you - the chance to focus on our fight, on me?
Did you hate me that much?
Did you hate yourself that much?
Is that why you came to me when it became too much for you to handle?
--
So here I was, spread on your among the rumpled bed sheets trying to catch my breath, covered in sweat and cum with my legs still draped over your shoulders. I looked down and tried to catch your gaze wondering what expression you were wearing, but you wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“King.”
You pulled out of me and let my legs fall to the side. I could feel your hot fluids and my blood dripping from me.
“Oi.”
You slumped over my body and hid your face in the crook of my neck and then I felt warm liquid on my skin. The tear paths burnt. Drop by drop they scorched and I was sure they’ll leave scars.
You wrapped your arms around me and clung to me for dear life. I lay there perfectly still with my arms still above my head and tied to the headboard as you cried your heart out wave after wave of uncontrolled sobs and tremors running through your body.
But which one of us it was that you were holding?
“King.”
Was that what you wanted? Mind numbing bliss followed by crushing guilt? Did you really think that crushing yourself would help you get over this? That you could be glued back again after ripping yourself to shreds?
I felt your lips move against my skin. Ah, here it comes. You were going to justify yourself, say that you’re sorry, that it won’t happen ever again. But we both knew it would.
“I’m sorr-“
“Finished takin’ a breather?” I interrupted you.
If this was what you wanted, if this was what you thought that you needed I’d help you.
“Huh?”
You rose from your spot and looked at me for the first time since we came to your world. Your eyes were red, tears still streaming down your cheeks. That face suited you so well, King, so well I could feel my cock hardening against your stomach.
I can bet you could feel it too.
“’Cause I’m ready fer round two.” I said with a smirk moving my hips suggestively.
Let’s shatter you to pieces and bring the sun back.
--
At first you refused to do it again or even think about what you did. What we did. You were trying to sort things out, cursing yourself, wondering why the hell did you do that to me. You thought of it as rape and you were blaming yourself for hurting me. That’s so typically you. Haven’t you noticed how I joined in the fun moaning in pleasure or used my legs to pull you closer, to get you in deeper and faster? I really enjoyed that so called rape, King. But it wasn’t as if it were your skills that made me arch my back and push back against you, it was the thought of how deeply it hurt you, the vision of how torn you’ll be after this is all over. It was the mixture of pleasure-pain on your face that brought me over the edge.
And if that wasn’t a clue what about my comment when you were covering me in tears and snot crying your little heart out on my shoulder?
You’re too focused on yourself. You weren’t the only one participating in the act so get over it and let‘s go another round. We’re trying to destroy you, remember? Our goal is to hurt you severely, to break you so get your ass back to work.
You avoided me for two weeks straight ignoring my taunting, cutting off the sultry whisper in your mind. You tried to learn how to control your reiatsu to keep me from coming to the Real World, but I managed to escape a few times when you weren’t paying me enough attention.
I walked around your classroom laughing at the horrified look on your face when you noticed I slipped through the walls that were supposed to hold me back and that I’m wandering freely between desks poking here and there at your classmates that were frozen in time. I wish I could show you how red your face became when I slipped my hand under that crazily-in-love big-breasted friend’s of yours shirt and squeezed. Ha, I thought you’d explode! But you only got mad and sent me back with the help of your anger, though you couldn’t look her in the eyes for quite some time.
I moved towards him in the hot water of the healing spring aware of how fixed your gaze was on me. You watched how I circled around him, tangled my fingers in his blood-red hair and tugged, how I leaned in wrapping myself around him and let my tongue trace his neck, his inked chest and stomach and lover until I was gone under the surface too long for your comfort. I would emerge slowly my eyes focused on you as my hand lingered under water and moved slowly up and down and I watched as you sank your teeth in your lower lip, how you gripped at the stones surrounding the spring in a white knuckled grip. I held his cock and told you how big it was, how wonderful it felt in my hand, how it fitted in and how it would fit in yours as well since I was your copy, how it would fit in you and what pleasure it could bring, all words muffled against his neck. You were out of the water before he even noticed how hard he was.
I stood behind your back when you studied and whispered into your ear, my hot breath washing over your skin, my form so close that I could feel your warmth, but not close enough to make contact. I told you about the things you could do to me, things I could do for you. I told you how much you needed this, how you couldn’t go on for too long and would come to me begging soon enough, that there was no use fighting it. I told you stories about my skilled fingers, my hot mouth and my eager tongue, about biting and scratching and fire and I knew it affected you - you couldn’t hide it from me. The hitch in your breath, the stiffness of your body, avoiding unnecessary moves, the obvious bulge in your pants that made your mind, your heart break painfully every time.
I seduced you, drove you mad with my words, had you delirious without even grazing your skin and soon enough you gave in.
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