#and Sweat Trapped In Clothes is its own form of sensory hell

[dreamlogic]

i am humbly asking my online peers for sunscreen recommendations as someone with sensitive skin who loathes fragrances and lotions and also spends at least 4-6 hours outside per day often with minimal shade and would like to not get skin cancer

[powerhourao3]

Omorashi - Jacob Alden (NON-CON)

"Omorashi, sometimes abbreviated as simply "omo", is a form of fetish subculture first categorized and predominately recognized in Japan, in which arousal from the idea or feeling of having a full bladder and potentially wetting themselves, or from witnessing another person in that situation."

Additional tag - Sensory deprivation, kidnapping, stalking mentioned.

Female genitalia reader, but no gender assigned by Jacob to the reader verbally.

It felt like you had come crashing down from the atmosphere when your body violently jolted awake, so much so it made you yelp. 

Strange.

Your mattress felt rock hard, far too thin for what was usual. How did you just notice? How long have you been needing a replacement? You thought beds lasted a good long while than that..

The window must have been left open when you were watching the rain earlier today; your skin felt pricked over with how freezing the room was. The covers must have slipped to the floor again. 

Something.. 

Something wasn't right. 

Where were your clothes? You always wore your long shirt and oversized pants; there's no way it should be this cold. Why was it so quiet? 

Mind and body finally comprehended its place in the world, ass up, face down. 

   Your arms moved to grasp the purchase of the ground below your chest to crane up; much to your horror, metal cuffs bit into your skin. Your wrists were trapped beneath you. On instinct, your numb legs attempted to kick up from under your weight, and your hands followed, seemingly connected to some bar forcing your legs and feet apart. God, what is happening? Where were you? Your knees ached like the cartilage was nonexistent, and your joints were audible when shifting around.

The last thing you remember was..

   The security of Jacobs's arm around your person defeated the internal war of keeping your consciousness. Whatever movie was in the background replaced any reservations and manners in your head, telling you how impolite it was to fall asleep at someone's house, especially after they had fed you and treated you with such hospitality. You were so happy to have such a sweet neighbor. 

   So where was Jacob? Why couldn't you see anything? Panic grew and swelled in your chest, breathing becoming erratic and quick to the point of hyperventilation. It felt like you were choking like the room was slowly being drained of oxygen, and you only had moments before you croaked. 

   A heavy paw of a hand made you buck up from your spot on the ground from the unforetold contact, stroking in slow waves, collecting the cold, stale sweat forming over your body in its path. The heat from the hand made you realize how clammy and dirty you had become while knocked out. Your breathing evened out on its own, and you were now able to focus on the pattern the person was tracing on your back.

"There you aaare. Everything alright, okay? It's just me, just you and me."

   Without thinking, your head turned from its smooshed place on the ground and towards the voice from beside you. Eyebrows upturned in surprise, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, only to find they had been absorbed by fabric over your eyes that you hadn't felt till now. 

"Jacob, what the hell is going on- why am I naked?!" 

   You attempted to raise your voice, but it felt like any moisture in your body had been evaporated. His hand slid on at the mention of your state of undress, coming from your shoulder to the fat of your ass. 

"Is the pillow enough for your head? Do you want more towels under you? I can imagine that it's not enough to be comfortable on the concrete. I would've placed you on the bed, but, for what we are about to do, I'd rather not have to get a new one. Well, more like for what you're about to do."

"Get your GOD damn hands offa me. What you talking about?" 

   He said nothing, only sliding his hand from the underside of your ass, sly touch ghosting over your pussy, tickling as he reached under where your bladder was and pressed the tips of his fingers gingerly over the skin. 

   A shudder ran through your person, the muscles of your bladder and cunt reacting to the pressure and fighting to keep from gushing out. In your panic attack earlier, you suppose your body had decided to ignore how badly you needed to piss. 

The thought of wetting yourself in front of another person made your mind frenzy with embarrassment, no matter the situation you were currently in. 

"Wait, stop stopstop-stop, I'm gonna piss myself!" 

"That's the plan, darlin'." 

   That was his only word before he reversed his hand towards your pussy, the palm of his hand heavy and pushing over your entire sex, catching your clit in a delicious way that caused a grunt. With your dier situation and trying not to wet yourself, it felt more painful than pleasurable. It made your body's resolve weaken, the muscles in you waver, a couple droplets smeared over his hand as a result. 

"Oh, there we go, baby,  amazing ." 

Jacob's voice had grown huskier, and he became heady with need, seeing your body scrabble to keep its composure under him. 

   His cock grew heavy and hot under his pants, surely not built to accommodate a man of his size when getting hard. Yet, it provided the much-needed teasing pressure against his sex he needed to spur his desires to strengthen. 

"Please, no ahhhh, I don't want to piss myself please Jacob.. Why are you doing this? What did I  fucking  do to you?!"

   Your throat gains back some wetness, allowing you to talk above the whisper you spoke earlier, letting you show the rage and confusion settling in your chest. Tears kept coming and being soaked, making the fabric cold against your face, stinging with its saltiness.

"What did  you  do?" He chuckled, slipping his index and ring fingers into the heat of your cunt without warning, letting them sit relaxed against your screaming bladder. 

"You tease me with your existence, your eyes haunt me when I'm alone, your voice drives me mad like a siren to a wayward sailor. You've made me completely and utterly obsessed with you; pictures can't hold a candlelight to the beauty you possess in person. I tire of stalking, stealing those precious moments where you think you're alone, taking your mail just to see you can't sate me anymore. I need you; I need you at your most vulnerable. Please, for me." 

   As he finished his psychotic speech, he curled his two fingers directly against your bladder, making you scream as he set an unforgivable and brutal pace; each thrum and push of his fingers sent pain through your lower half, fighting against the signals of pleasure and pain, making a piercing mix all together. 

Jacob's chin began to drip with saliva, his toothy dog-like smile not helping keep the spit from trickling from his lips. Droplets splashed on your ass as it rippled from the force of his harsh love. 

Squelch, squelch, squelch-  

His free hand rushed to undo his belt from his waist and unbutton his kaki pants, shimming them down to the mid-thigh of his thigh. The underwear pulled down with the pants allowing his cock to bounce out, fat and weeping at the tip, pulsing with hunger. He could tell you were close to breaking, to break for him. 

"PLEASE, JACOB NO MORE! It hurt it hurtithurt- AHHHHNG-" 

"That's it, there you go, sweet thing, let it out, for me, let it out!-"

His hips jutted forward to catch the golden shower you blessed him with, drowning his cock with your fluids, drenching his lower half with warmth. The thought alone of you letting go of him, mixed with it actually happening and the pressure of the stream on him, was enough to allow him cum, ropes of it shooting onto the underside of your breasts.

Jacob held his breath as it happened, the strength of his orgasm bucking him into a state of motionless that gathered from his cock to his chest. After a moment, he let out shaky laughs of extreme pleasure mixed with loud, explosive moans and gasps. 

It felt like you two were bonded now; he was sure you felt the same, you  had  to. 

Your stream left you to a trickle, to drops, to nothing, and with it came your strength and dignity. The tears had stopped after you started to lose bodily control, now only able to focus on the growing cold of the shower on the insides of your thighs, hands, and knees. 

His soothing, calm hand came to your back once more, making you feel how hot you had grown as it now gave you cooling from the intensity of the situation. Your soft pants and groans were the only thing filling the room. Everything felt ten times louder and ten times more intense, with your eyes being covered. 

Yet, his hands stopped after some time had passed, after he was done basking in the afterglow of your intimate entanglement. He moved back from his kneeling position on the concrete, working to pull up his piss-soaked attire back up his legs, neglecting to put back his belt on.

The clamps of the spreader bar holding your legs hostage were undone from your ankles, yet the cuffs stayed on. 

Jacob scooped you thoughtfully from the ground, ensuring to get a good grip on your person so as not to accidentally drop you. A couple kisses were doted upon your cheeks and forehead, sending hot electricity through you to your core at the unexpected love.

It sounded like he was heading up a flight of stairs; in the back of your shattered, drained mind, you hoped it was to a bath. 

(Requests are open!)

[skvaderarts]

Chapter Twelve: Dauntless

You can check out the Masterlist Here for more links to places to read!

Chapter Twelve: Dauntless

Note: Hey everyone! Thanks for reading the last chapter! I was pretty tired when I edited it, so I’m sorry for any errors. I’ll be more careful and try to go back soon and correct anything I see. In the meantime, I want to thank Random Reader Nothing Special, BeansWithBones, and HunterJamie for their continued support. I always love talking to you guys! Now, back to the chapter! This one is going to be very... interesting. Haha!

-~-

There was nothing visible within the inky blackness. No light pierced the veil, seemingly holding back all time and rendering distance irrelevant and imperceivable. Regardless of how far he reached in either direction, he never touched anything and the sensation of weightlessness he felt was disputed by the lack of air friction but felt nonetheless. Yet somehow he seemed to travel rapidly downward, the sensation of his stomach dropping being the only concrete indicator of any movement at all. After all, it was so dark in here that he could simply have gone blind. He would have no way of telling. Being this deprived of his senses wasn’t reassuring, but until he figured out what was going on, there was no way of knowing.

As V stood (or floated or fell downward... there wasn’t really a way of knowing for sure) within the dimensional equivalent of a sensory deprivation tank, he internally acknowledged that although he should feel threatened or concerned, he didn’t. There was something strangely familiar about this place that he couldn’t quite place. If he didn’t know any better, he would swear that he had been here before. But that wasn’t possible... was it? After all, he should remember that. Or maybe he shouldn’t. Maybe the part of him that swore up and down that it had been here before was the only part of his subconscious that recalled a prior visit to this hellscape. How could he possibly say for sure?

In the blink of an eye, V suddenly felt every muscle in his body tense as he was hit with a powerful gust of air. As it grew in intensity, it dropped in temperature, the once oven-like heat taking on an otherworldly chill that sent him sliding back towards some unknown destination. Or it could have been forward for all he knew. It was literally impossible for him to tell at this point, especially with his arms folded around himself to protect his body from the unearthly force that pressed against him. It didn’t take long for him to lose his center of balance and topple to the side, launching forwards on what he could only assume was the floor. However, when he made physical contact with it, he found that it was soft and pliable, almost buoyant. The liquid clung to him but didn’t stick, possessing a quality similar to that of oil in water. Every bead of the abyssal substance ran off of his skin like it was coated in a hydrophobic substance. Every part of his body that made contact with it tingled slightly in response, and he was unsure if this was a good or a bad thing. Regardless, it was strange how much colder it was than the already freezing air. While not cold enough to remove any skin, it was more than a little bit uncomfortable. 

V launched himself to his feet, pushing himself upward with a quick press against the ground. To his shock, he kept tumbling backward instead of landing on his feet. It was as if the floor had rotated to keep him from gaining the upper hand. As he cartwheeled backward headfirst, he gained speed, flipping more times than he could even try to count. As he did so, his breathing became slightly frantic. Where was he going to land? Was he going to land at all? What if he was trapped here forever and this was how he would spend the rest of his natural (or unnatural) life? Did time even pass in this place? Had the entire day before this been nothing but a fever dream as he passed into eternal damnation? The idea of being stuck here quite literally spiraling out of control forever sure made it seem plausible.

“I need to regain my control over this situation,” He thought to himself with finality,” However I came to be in this place is irrelevant. I refuse to stay here any longer. If I could just stop-”

The very instant that the world “stop” passed through his mind, his body hit the ground with a heavy smack, knocking the wind out of him. The once soft material that he had touched merely a few moments before now felt like asphalt, a substance that he was all too familiar with falling onto. Every part of his body ached, although he somehow knew that he hadn’t broken anything. It was more like a toothache, a dull throb that traveled through every inch of his body leaving him immobile and uncomfortable. Thankfully, his pain threshold was legendarily high, so the instant his breath returned to him, he blinked and carefully clambered to his feet.

“I can only assume that you brought me here for a reason?” V asked cautiously. He had no idea the limits of the power that his place possessed.

The darkness did not respond. Instead, it remained woefully silent, unwilling, or perhaps unable to answer his question. He inhaled, unwilling to take silence for an answer. He hadn’t come here of his own volition, at least to his knowledge. He required answers. He was owed answers. And he was going to receive them.

“So you’re going to tell me that you are capable of manipulating this entire place,” V said gesturing casually to the vast nothingness that encompassed him,” but you are not capable of communicating? How disappointing.”

The air (if that was what he was in. Presumably. After all, he was breathing) became statically charged, causing his thin, lightweight white hair to float upward slightly, spreading out around his head. His arms tingled as the static wrapped around him, making every hair on his body regardless of how thin, stand at attention. He exhaled, lifting his arms to look at them. He almost expected there to be something physically present, but there was nothing. This reminded him of something all too familiar, but he dare not speak his thoughts into existence. There was no way that this could have anything to do with them.

…

“If you have some sort of wisdom to impart upon me, I’d appreciate it if you would do so. I do not desire to be here any longer than I already have been.”

Again, the vast emptiness did not reply. At least not verbally. The inky ground bubbled and churned as if it were about to produce something from within it. Several back abyssal spikes broke free from the ground and encircled him, growing closer to him as they closed him in completely. V stood his ground, now thoroughly fed up with whatever the hell was going on. No, this was going to stop. Now.

“Either make your demands or release me,” he said, completely unamused by this situation,” I’m done entertaining your games.”

Before he could say anything further, the wind returned. Only this time it hit him with the force of a freight train. The spikes encapsulating him from behind dropped into the ground and he went flying backward, tumbling weightlessly, except this time much harder and faster than he had before. Every molecule of air left his lungs and he gasped as he crashed with devastating force into the now almost completely solid surface that surrounded him. He never got the chance to figure out if it was the wall, floor, or ceiling because he was rendered unconscious upon impact. It was lights out the instant he made contact with whatever he had landed on.

The young white-haired man gasped and jolted into an upright position in his bed, gasping for breath. His hair flopped down onto his face, sticking to the sweat that he seemed to be soaked in. As he panted breathlessly in an attempt to grasp as much precious air as his lungs could contain, he moved his arms and jolted in shock. In the places where the black substance had gripped him, were the faint but now fading remnants of his former familiar’s tattoos. Specifically Griffon’s. The marking glowed brightly, emitting white light as it outlined the corresponding markings. After a moment, the light faded, allowing V a better look. His arms and part of his chest were covered in faint grey markings that were barely perceivable to the naked eye. But they were most certainly his former tattoos. Of that, there was no doubt. The only difference was they were completely depleted of their power, the vibrant black luster now absent in its entirety.

After a moment, the marking disappeared entirely, leaving his arms and chest bare again and his mind swirling with a plethora of thoughts and anxieties. Had his resurrection unleashed something within him? After all, the place that he had just been in seemed to be metaphysical in nature. He had woken up in his room again after his visit, and his body was still just as sore as it had been a few moments ago. And to top it all off, his head throbbed from the supposed impact he had made with the ground just moments ago. Some aspect of that had to be real, didn’t it?

It almost felt like he had brought something back with him when he had returned and he couldn’t even pretend that that wouldn’t have consequences later down the line. For now, he would take a shower. Perhaps the soothing water would calm his nerves and give him a much-needed reprieve to focus his thoughts and form a hypothesis as to how this had come about.

Things had made so much sense before all of this had happened.

He didn’t like his old life, but at least he didn’t visit other dimensions in his downtime.

-~-

V’s hair was still stuck to his face, only this time it was from water instead of midnight precipitation. He had changed into the alternate set of clothing that Kyrie had left him the day before and sat down on his bed, noticing for the first time that daylight shined in from outside. It was later in the day than he originally thought. There wasn’t much due to the storm that still raged beyond the safe confines of the house, but at least things had calmed down somewhat since last night. Before there was no light at all, as if the clouds themselves had absorbed it with their arrival.

He sat there for a moment, his wet hair dripping down onto his shirt. He didn’t really notice it, and if he had, he wouldn’t have minded. Something more was going on, and the longer he stayed here, the more pronounced the feeling of ever approaching danger became. He needed answers. Urgently. For perhaps the first time in his life, he didn’t know much of anything about what was going on, and that unnerved him greatly. As his mind tried to piece together a coherent string of thoughts, V stood up and walked over to the window. After pulling the curtains shut, he leaned his head against them, noting how cold the glass was even through the thick cloth.

During his shower, he had time to think. And during that time, something had occurred to him. For the first time in his entire life, he needed to make a decision that pertained to his family. V scoffed to himself at the thought of it. How preposterous, the idea that he was now part of something like this. Until yesterday, he had no idea what it was like to be loved; to be wanted and accepted unconditionally by others. For the majority of his life up until this point, he had been an outsider everywhere he went. His distinct white hair was quite the head-turner in public spaces, and his stature made it nearly impossible to blend in even though all he wanted was to assimilate and be overlooked. And now he had exactly what he wanted, but in a way he would have never fathomed possible. 

More often than V would be willing to admit, he had sat and pondered the possibility of having a family somewhere out there, so much of his idle time and energy spent on possibilities and contingencies. But he didn’t have a plan of action for being loved and wanting to preserve the lives of those closest to him. Despite the fact that he barely knew Kyrie and the children, even Nero for that matter, it was undeniable that he felt… comfort when he was with them. That was something that he treasured. But what was that worth to him truly? Could he equate a worth to that?

It had been no coincidence that he should return and then have such a surreal out of body experience. And then there was this storm. It was anyone’s guess where his familiars had disappeared to when he had died, but he was willing to guess that simply returning to hell or fading into oblivion were off the table as possibilities. That was too simple, and they were not regular demons. Nightmares probably didn’t work the same way as your run of the mill lesser demon. After all, did a nightmare really ever die? Perhaps if they were forgotten, but even then the person who experienced them could still recall vague details about their dreams later down the line.

And then that presented another important question. Did V want his familiars back in the first place? While there was no question as to their loyalty and the strength of his relationship with them, he wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to devote himself to that path so fully. At the time that he had made his allegiances, he was presented with no other alternative. Literally backed into a corner, it was either fight or die, and he possessed no fighting experience or knowledge of how to control any abilities that he might possess. Was he ready to give up any possibility of a normal life and commit such a substantial part of being to this world that he had born so far from? When he had been raised away from the chaos that seemed to plague his family, he had been given a chance at a somewhat normal, if not arduous and miserable life. Somehow, even though he had never met the woman, he had the feeling that this wasn’t what his mother would have wanted for him. And a part of him respected and agreed with that sentiment. But another part of him resented the idea that he needed to be protected from his own existence. After all, if he truly was a descendant of Sparda, he couldn’t be that helpless. Maybe he just needed a teacher. From what little he had come into naturally, he knew he possessed abilities. Royal Fork was born purely from his will, no instruction required. And this nagging feeling of uncertainty that he felt now was almost assuredly supernatural in its insistence.

Did the need to repel danger at any cost constitute a choice at all?

By that notion, did anyone in his family truly have a choice in all this?

V gripped the curtains tightly, allowing his eyes to close before exhaling. He would always find the strength to embody the ideals that he stood for. The only issue here was that he had no idea what part he played in any of this. However, coincidences were something he was against on principle and he rejected them as a policy. If he actually thought that whatever was going on with this storm and his experience during the night were not somehow connected, then he was truly stupid. And although V was many things, stupid was not one of them. Before he could decide anything, he needed to be more informed. Going into things blindly had ended badly for him the last time.

Although he was the first to admit that he didn’t know very much about the island of Fortuna, he knew that this place had a history with demons. Word of the disaster here a few short years ago had reached the mainland in bits and pieces not long after it had occurred, and talk of magic and supernatural activity had shrouded the entire place in an air of mystery. Maybe he could ask Nero if he knew something about what had happened here. It was hard for him to believe that there could be a cataclysmic demonic invasion here and Nero hadn’t been involved somehow.

After taking a final breath to clear his overcrowded mind, he turned and headed to the bedroom door. He was tired already, and he hadn’t even been awake an hour yet. As he opened the door, the children ran past, more than likely headed in the direction of the stairs. Nero was standing just off to the side of the door talking on the phone with someone, although he hadn’t a clue who since he wasn’t talking loud enough to be heard clearly. Kyrie and Nico were nowhere to be seen, but he assumed they were somewhere nearby. A distant crash from inside of the garage followed by the sound of Nico cursing confirmed his suspicions. Some things never changed.

He stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind himself just in time to hear Nero read off an address to someone and say something about seeing them soon before hanging up the phone. Nero turned, catching sight of V out the corner of his eye. He seemed to be in a relatively good mood from what V could decipher, his posture more relaxed than he was accustomed. Despite the three children playing not far from them, this was still a much less hostile environment than they were normally accustomed to being in. Wonderful. He could start his morning by totally killing the mood between them for the rest of the day. Just what he was going for.

“Hey, you’re awake,” Nero actually sounded somewhat surprised as he spoke,” I was wondering if you were getting up today.”

V glanced over on the small wall clock that hung over a mudroom rack near the entrance, noting that it was just shy of noon. He scoffed at the comment, seeming somewhat amused. 

“Ironic. This is actually rather early for me, all things considered,” He replied nonchalantly as he leaned against his bedroom door,” I actually have a question for you, if you can spare a moment.”

Nero spared a glance in the direction of the children playing down the hall. They had parked themselves in the living room, not going upstairs as V had assumed. If V was willing to guess, they normally played outside, but the storm had forced them to hang out inside and they were making the best of an unideal situation. Understandable.

“Shoot. What is it?” Nero asked casually.

V crossed his arms, capitalizing on his position against the wall to provide him the balance he required. “I need in-depth information on demons, specifically pertaining to alchemy or binding. Is there anywhere in town that houses that sort of information?”

Nero gave him a sideways look, clearly wondering what he could want with that kind of information. He seemed to ponder the question deeply for a moment as if he were debating something. After a moment, he sighed. “... No. Not in town. But…” Nere glanced up and down the hallway as if he was checking to see if anyone was within earshot,”... There was this one bastard that worked for the Order, a huge asshole named Agnus. He has a lab outside of town in some giant castle that Sparda supposedly lived in forever ago. That place is loaded with books. It was abandoned after the Order fell apart after the attack.”

V took in the response, nodded to himself as he considered the validity of finding anything useful there. It seemed likely. “How do I get there?”

The look on Nero’s face spoke volumes. While he was curious about what V could possibly want with that wretched place, he decided to just go with it. But the last thing he was going to do was let him go there alone. That was just asking for trouble. There were traps everywhere, and just because the Hellgate had been destroyed didn’t mean that the place wasn’t still crawling with demons.

Nero took a step towards the door and grabbed his sword, reaching for his coat with the other. This was going to be a long day. 

“Don’t worry about it. I can get you inside,” his mind was distant. Going back to the place where he had the first glimpse of his power was going to be very surreal,” I just hope whatever you want there is worth it. That place is nothing but trouble”

-~-

PHEW! I am so sleepy right now. But I made sure to check the grammar on this chapter better than the last one. I’m sure something slipped past me, but it has to be better than last time. Thanks for checking out this chapter! It was really fun to write, especially the voice section at the start. I can’t wait to hear your thoughts on that one. I’d love to see if any of you can guess what’s up with that place. In the meantime, stay safe out there and I’ll see you on Wednesday, June 10th with another chapter! Take care!