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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 6 months

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Personal Time [3]

Marc Spector x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 9: Pegging

Summary: Marc (nervously) asks for a turn. Or: Steven asks for him.

A/N: So this is actually a part 3 to my series Personal Time, but you don't have to read that to read this. All you need to know is that Steven has a strap that the reader uses on him.

Warnings: anal fingering, anal sex, pegging, anal sex with a strap on, begging, Marc being a bit of a nervous sub, Marc not communicating very well, (there is one part where Marc is uncomfortable but doesn't voice it, however the reader notices), switching who is fronting due to feeling overwhelmed, typos, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 3255

As you walk into the bedroom Marc shifts uncomfortably, a little flush of panic running along his skin. He visibly jumps and tries to shove a box under the bed. But he didn’t quite get the angle right, negating the smooth slide-in he had been hoping for. He hits the box harshly with the palm of his hand. Still, it does not yield.

You stop in the doorway, just watching the scene play out for a moment before Marc looks up at you in trepidation.

There is a second where you mistake his wide eyes for Steven, as you are so used to that honesty of expression coming from him.

“I was…” Marc speaks quickly, the words blurring together and then just trails off as he tries to think of a reasonable excuse. Part of him thinks now would be a pretty good time just to tap out and let Steven or Jake front, but then his alters would see what he had been looking at and, and…

You recognise the box by his knees instantly. But can’t resist a little tease. “What you got there, Marc?”

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Just, erm, I was just looking for…” Why can’t he think of one fucking object? Any fucking object. “Socks?”

“Socks?”

“Yeah… socks.” He doesn’t even sound remotely believable to his own ears.

You nod, trying to hide your smile. “Socks. In a box? Under the bed? Not in the drawer?” You point to the aforementioned furniture. “Where you, Jake and Steven keep them?”

Marc’s mouth goes dry. “No… I had a pair and they, I dropped them under the bed so I was just… looking for them.”

“Socks to wear?”

“Yes.” He answers a little too quickly.

“What’s wrong with the ones on your feet?”

“They… I wanted to change them.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll help you look then.” You say, trying your best to sound serious.

Marc practically does a double take. “Help me?”

“Yeah,” you walk over and sit on the edge of the bed. “You said you’d dropped some socks? They’re not in your hands so you obviously haven’t found them yet.” You smile sickeningly sweetly. “Have you?”

The deer-caught-in-the-headlights look he gives you is almost too much to take.

You smile gently. “I know what’s in that box Marc.”

“I, er, do you?” He speaks a little too quickly. “I mean, of course, you do because…”

“Because me and Steven use it… which is why it’s clearly in Steven’s box.”

“You and Steven use it,” Marc repeats, though why he’s not sure. He is well aware of how the contents are used.

You nod.

“Does it, erm…” A light flush breaks out along the tips of his ears. He swallows, looking down at the floor before taking a deep breath and trying again. “What’s it like?”

That wasn’t the question you were expecting. “What’s it like?”

“Yeah.”

You pause for a moment, and can’t resist just teasing him a little longer. “Don’t you think you should be asking Steven that?” You raise an eyebrow at him as you lower your voice, leaning slightly closer.

Marc’s blush intensifies instantly. “I…”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Marc trip over his words quite so much in all the time you’ve known him, and you can’t help but find the situation undeniably endearing.

“He enjoys it.” You say, taking pity on him. “I do too.”

Marc swallows, an audible sound, and nods. “That’s good, I mean,” he screws up his eyes for a second. “I mean…”

“Marc Spector.” You tease and slowly slip down onto the floor next to him. Carefully you place your hands on his shoulders, giving him a second to move away if he wants to. When he doesn’t you inch forward and trail your lips over his neck. “Are you saying you want to try Steven’s little toy?”

He shudders under your embrace but gives you a little glare when he opens his eyes. “I wouldn’t call it little.”

You can’t help but laugh.

Marc doesn’t bring up the subject again for a few days, but he does tiptoe around it. Doing his very best to be subtle rather unsubtly.

Until, in the middle of dinner, when Steven bluntly blurts out: “Marc wants you to peg him.”

You almost choke on your food. Not at the suggestion, of course, just the offhand way Steven says it.

You raise your eyebrows at him and Steven smiles.

“He- bloody hell, mate,” he turns to his reflection and scowls. “Fuck off, you do. He wants you to peg him, he’s just too much of a scary cat to ask and-” Steven tuts and rolls his eyes at Marc dramatically. “You are.” Before turning back to you. “So he’d like- oi, fuck-”

Suddenly Steven’s blasé disposition dissolves into an almost frenzied panic as Marc fronts.

His eyes are a little wide, his breathing a little hard. His eyes flick to the side, obviously getting a bollocking from Steven.

“You want me to peg you?” You say calmly as if you had simply asked him to pass the pepper.

Marc takes a moment. “Erm, I, yes.”

“Okay.” You nod and carry on eating your dinner.

‘See?’ Steven says from the headspace. ‘I told you.’

Marc gives him a glare.

It was unsurprising that Marc was more reserved about the matter than Steven. He was used to doing what was asked of him, following orders, not asking for something for his own pleasure.

But you had managed to talk about it, or, to put it more correctly, gently coax out what exactly he wanted.

You kissed him softly on the bed, both of you naked except for the strap and harness. Marc had asked that you wear it from the get-go just so he could get used to it. (You gently reminded him that he could back out or stop anything he wasn’t comfortable with at any point, which just earned you a scowl and grumbled, ‘I know.’)

Slowly you trailed your hand down his chest to his stomach. You dug in a little at his side, purposefully hitting a ticklish spot.

Marc squirmed and snorted, quickly clamping his mouth shut to stop the giggles and gave you a look. You were sure his expression was meant to discourage you from trying the same thing again, but it had very much the opposite effect.

However, you gave him a sickly sweet smile, kissed his nose, and didn’t try to tickle him again.

You continued to trail your hand downwards and slowly took his length in your hand, hard and waiting for you. You pumped him up and down a few times and Marc closed his eyes, biting subtly at his bottom lip as he breathed in deeply.

Compared to Steven, Marc’s reactions to anything pleasurable were stoic, and compared to Jake, Marc looked practically dead.

You opened the lube bottle with your other hand, giving yourself a little silent moment of triumph as you flicked the cap open with your thumb on the first try. Marc opens his eyes as you let go of him and you pour a generous helping onto your hand.

“Just gonna prep you okay?”

Marc shifts and nods. He doesn’t so much as avoid your gaze but try to look around it.

“Marc, baby, we don’t have to do this if-”

“Please,” he mumbles, a little dusting of pink on his cheeks. “I want to.”

“Okay.” You kiss his cheek and he moves his legs apart, bending his legs so that his feet are flat on the mattress.

He doesn’t look at you, preferring to lay his cheek against the pillow and stare at the kitchen. You think about talking him through it, telling him to relax, and because of Steven’s (and yours and Steven’s) explorations the sensation wouldn’t be as alien to the body as it would be if this was the first time. But you get the feeling that your words would be unwelcome at the moment.

Instead, you carefully watch his face for any sign of discomfort as you press lightly at his entrance. Despite Marc’s promise to stop you if something hurt, you’re not completely sure if he would. At least, not at first.

He jumps a little at the sensation of your finger.

“You okay?”

“Hmm.” He continues to stare to the side, biting his lip ever so slightly.

You decide not to chastise him, or ask for his attention, knowing this is the way he settles into new situations.

Carefully you slide your forefinger inside and Marc jumps again, the tight ring of muscle clamping down on you. He bites his lips together tighter. You pause, barely halfway in.

“Marc-”

“Please don’t stop.” He mumbles, the flush deepening on his skin. He blinks rapidly and you do as he asks, slipping in to the last knuckle and angling to stroke his prostate.

He gasps loudly the second you touch it, his hips jerking upwards and dick twitching against his stomach.

His eyes close and he grasps at you, squeezing your free hand. You give him barely a second before you move, deep and slow as you press against the nerve in a way that Steven has told you feels wonderful.

This time he groans, deep within his chest as he bucks up against you, moving up so that he can grind back down onto your finger. Quickly you add another and press deep, stretching and curling to stroke and circle in a pattern that brings him close to madness.

“Oh shit.” He mutters, gasping and moaning.

You watch him for a moment, letting him rock and buck mindlessly as he chases the pleasure. Every muscle tense as he writhes under your touch.

“Nice?”

“Hmmm, yeah,” he breathes, his eyes still shut tight.

“Uh, uh, uh,” you let go of his hand and take hold of his jaw and chin, turning his face towards you and pressing on his plump bottom lip with the pad of your thumb.

To your surprise you don’t have to coax him any further, his eyes flutter open to look at you through his long lashes. He moans softly around your thumb, darting his tongue out and flicking over the tip before sucking it into his mouth.

He moans even louder as you add a third finger, tears of pleasure building in the corners of his eyes and he throws his head back.

You let your thumb slide out of his mouth, not wanting to hamper his ability to speak, but keep a gentle, but firm, hold on his jaw.

Sweat beads at his temples and you can’t help but get distracted by how beautiful he looks like this. Muscles tense as he bucks and squirms with every touch, embracing and chasing his own pleasure. More out of his own head than you’ve ever seen him.

His breathing hitches, as his soft, guttural whines grow louder and louder.

He bites his lip hard, threatening to break the skin with the amount of force he’s applying.

You gently massage your thumb over his bottom lip, coaxing him carefully, and he finally lets go with a sob. “That’s it, let me hear how much you like it.” You whisper and Marc groans loudly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

You press on his bundle of nerves fully, no longer teasing, pressing firmly with every stroke and touch and Marc shudders.

“Gonna cum.” He moans, rocking back with your movements.

You grin. “You can cum.”

He shakes his head rapidly, “No, I, no,” he opens his eyes, dark with lust and puts his hand on your forearm, you slow and then still your movements immediately. Despite how Marc still rocks against your fingers.

He takes a deep breath, “wanna- fuck- wanna cum on the strap, wanna feel it.” He goes to bite his lip nervously again, but you stroke him softly with your thumb as you pull your fingers out.

He whines at the loss, his hips trying to chase you even as you withdraw.

“Okay,” you soothe, “I’m just gonna lay down and-”

Marc shakes his head rapidly. “No, like this.” He blinks rapidly and then swallows, his voice surprisingly timid. “Please.”

When you’d talked about it before, you’d both planned that you would lay down on your back and Marc would straddle your thighs and take the strap. That way he would have total control over the pressure and pace and if he didn’t like something he could move away quickly. So, this sudden change took you a little by surprise.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded his head quickly, “Yes, I want you, want you to be on top. And…” he paused, his eyes frantically searching yours for something. Reassurance.

You kiss his lips softly, barely moving back a centimetre. “You want me to take care of you?”

He moaned softly and nodded. “Yes.” His voice barely audible.

You kiss him again, slow and deep, before you sit up on your knees and pour more lube over the strap.

Marc watches you with what you would have assumed was nervous interest as you spread the fluid over the length, but you notice the way his dick twitches against his stomach, leaving a shining trail of smeared precum over his skin.

You slow your movements a little, dragging it out a little longer than necessary and delight when Marc moans softly, his eyes fixed on your hand.

Languidly, as if you didn’t have Marc quickly becoming a quivering mess beneath you, you inched forward. The base of the strap in your hand as you guided in between his legs. He shifted a little, spreading wider and subconsciously giving you better access.

You push in carefully, watching his face for the smallest reactions, any hint of discomfort.

Marc swallows, sighing as the tip notches at his entrance and hesitantly puts his hands on your waist. Urging you inwards instead of pushing you away.

“Relax.” You mutter as you start to sink inside.

He wriggles under you, trying to do as you asked. The sensation is odd, unusual. But not unwelcome.

The pressure starts to feel a little uncomfortable after a few inches like he is stretched a little too wide. But he swallows again and grits his jaw.

You notice immediately and stop.

Straight away he looks up at you in surprise.

“Marc?”

“Hmm?”

You touch his face softly, stroking his cheek before leaning down and kissing him roughly. Your lips demanding and distracting. He kisses you back with equal vigour, letting out a surprised whimper when you take his cock in your hand and start to rub him from base to tip.

He groans, rocking his hips and sinking back into the sensation. His movements push the strap a little deeper with every buck. The tip just brushing against a spot that makes him see stars.

He swears into your mouth, moaning loudly and angling his hips underneath you, lifting them up a little to push the strap more firmly against that delicious part inside.

You get the hint.

You start thrusting steadily, and shallowly, not sinking the full way in. But just enough to nearly touch the part he wants you to. Your hand slows around his cock as you grind your hips.

Marc moans, breaking the kiss to nip at your neck and whimper. “Please, please, please,” his words tumble over each other as he holds you tightly, wraps his legs around your hips and squeezes, trying to urge you to go deeper, harder, to hit that pleasure that is just on the edge of his vision.

“Please, please,” you don’t think you’ve ever heard him beg this softly, or this desperately.

You push deeper and he sobs, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” his voice raises up at the end as you bottom out, not giving him a second before you slowly inch back out and then in again.

The words come pouring out of his mouth in half-formed sentences and breathless sobs as you start to fuck him in earnest, angling each thrust to hit perfectly inside.

His dick twitches again, his balls drawing up as he feels a massive wave start to build in his stomach.

“Oh fuck,” he hisses, “please,” he grabs your hips tighter, pulling you flush against him so that you can’t get any deeper. He rocks his hips against you, not letting you pull out as little huffs of air escape his lips.

“Like this?” You swirl your hips in a figure of eight and Marc practically screams.

“Yes, yes yes, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You grind against him, the base of the strap rubbing perfectly against your clit as you pick up the pace.

He moans loudly, no longer caring about what sounds he makes, too lost in the building ecstasy to even begin to think of anything else.

A little roughly, you pull his left leg from around your waist and manoeuvre him so that the back of his thigh presses against your chest as you lean down.

Marc tenses, the new angle making him convulse in pleasure. “Oh fuck, baby, please!”

“That’s it,” you coo, feeling your own orgasm close as you keep rutting against him. “You gonna cum for me?”

“Yes!” He sobs, eyes screwed shut in bliss. “Baby, I’m gonna-” His own moan cuts himself off as the wave crests and swallows him whole. Every nerve in his body sings out in pleasure as he cums, electrifying up his spine as he shoots his load all over his stomach.

“Fuck.” You hiss as you keep rocking against him, keep hitting that same spot to draw out his pleasure as long as possible.

Marc moans, his back arching off the bed. Contant ‘I love yous’ falling from his lips.

Seeing him so lost in bliss is what finally pushes you over the edge. You cum hard, clenching your teeth together to quiet your moans only so that you don’t dampen the sound of his.

Finally, as you come back to yourself, you kiss his neck softly, running your lips over the spot just below his ear. Even though your limbs feel like jelly, you manage to keep yourself upright.

Marc holds onto you tightly, breathing hard.

You stroke his hair softly and give him a minute. However, when he stays quiet, a little knot of worry starts to twist in your chest.

“Marc?”

He blinks roughly, and it’s not Marc who looks back at you.

“Jake?”

He smiles. “Marc’s out for the count, sorry.”

The little knot quickly builds. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” Jake soothes, running his hands up and down your arms and smiles. “Really good, just got a bit overwhelmed.”

Guilt cuts into your chest, but Jake continues before you get a chance to say anything.

“Hey, hey now.” He leans up and kisses your lips. “It's nothing you did, well…” he laughs. “You know what I mean. He just had a really, really good time.” He gives you a cheeky smile and you relax a little.

“He’s okay?”

“He’s better than okay.”

You smile weakly and nod.

“Seriously,” Jake cups your cheek in his hand, “he just got overwhelmed with positive emotion,” he looked at you for a second. “Makes a nice change. Really.”

Your smile strengthens a little.

“Though I have to admit, I am upset with you.” Jake pulls a face.

“What?”

He shifts his hips a little, pushing against your hips and the strap. “When is it my turn?”

____________________________________

Thank you for reading! (Using a different tag list for kinktober so I don't overwhelm anyone.)

@flightlessangelwings @steven-grants-world @lonelyisamyw-0love @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @campingwiththecharmings @minigirl87 @whatthefishh

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oleander-nin · 7 months

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Horrotober Day 16- Blade(Yandere Rise Leo x Reader)

A/N, not important: Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Kidnapping, implied abuse(mental and physical), manipulation, blood, death, off-screen murder, being carved into, being cut, wounds, yandere themes, dark themes

Words: 3255

Summary: Leo wants to make sure you'll never forget who you belong to again.

You walk through the restaurant with Leo by your side, his arm firmly around your waist. His gaze was forward and relaxed, a perfect mask to the world. No one noticed how tightly he was keeping you by his side, or the look of fear on your face.

“Smile, love,” He lightly chides, rubbing his thumb on your hip while moving towards the table Hueso was taking you both to. “You should be happy. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to take you out.”

You don’t respond to him, but the corners of your mouth crease up in a forceful manner before dropping down once more. Leo gives a breathy chuckle, his eyes swinging forward once more as he squeezes your side in warning. You knew he wouldn’t scold you here, not in public. Not with Hueso barely four feet in front of you both. A bitter feeling settles in your stomach as you look around the restaurant and see all the happy couples and families, making you grimace. You couldn’t tell if the feeling was from hunger, or envy.

You missed being able to come to places like this freely. Well, not places like this. While seeing the ins and outs of the yōkai world was interesting, you missed being in human restaurants and buildings. You missed being with humans, with your family and friends. Now, all you had was him.

Leo smiles down at you as if sensing you were thinking of him, his wry smile and falsely innocuous eyes fooling everyone but you. Leo’s grip leaves your waist, a smug smile covering his face as he pulls back your seat. He was acting once more, playing the gentlemanly boyfriend that was just oh so in love with his little human partner. You sit in the chair Leo pulled out for you, not voicing the millions of insults and complaints that stewed under your skin. You don’t pay attention as Leo sits down across from you, not hearing as he converses with Hueso and orders for the both of you. You barely even notice Leo calling your name until he takes your hand, knocking you out of your trance.

“Behave. This is a date. You’re supposed to enjoy it.” He lightly chides, still smiling while waiters and staff bustles past. He squeezes your hand, something that would be comforting if this were anyone else, if this were any other situation, but you can’t help but shrink back as he wanted. It was a warning, a small gesture to remind you not to draw attention to yourself or him.

He grins, relaxing his hold on your hand but not yet letting go. He relaxes in his seat, letting his legs cross over each other and his shell presses back against the chair. His loose hand drums on the table, dark eyes scanning the restaurant. “Man, it’s been ages since I was able to take you here. Reminds me of when we first started dating.”

His words make your stomach churn, the memories of your first date, of the first warning signs making you want to hurl. If you had run away then, maybe you wouldn’t even be in this mess. You look into his eyes, the darkness that’s swirling just under the surface making you shudder. No. Even if you left early on, he would still find you. There was no escaping him. The chains you wore at the lair were a testament to that, the locket around your neck being akin to a collar.

“Speak. This is a date. You’re supposed to be having fun.” He insists, squeezing your hand once more before dropping it to his side. You open your lips for a moment, brows furrowed as you try to come up with something to say. There was nothing you wanted to say to him, nothing that would be said on a date. You doubted he would appreciate the slew of insults your brain was cooking up.

“What did you order?” You croak out, wincing at the shudder of your voice. He hums, his fingers still drumming the table. You couldn’t tell if your words satisfied him, but he didn’t say a thing. Instead, his grin grows to finally meet his eyes, his lips pursing before breaking open to show his teeth.

“Half smuck-worm, half plain cheese.” He responds, clearly pleased. You shudder at the thought of the yōkai dish, the memory of the wriggling worm encasing your mouth in long gone slime. It’s been almost two years and you still remember just how awful eating it was. Leo doesn’t seem to mind your look of disgust, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “And two sodas for the both of us. I ordered your favorite.”

The look he was giving you in this moment paired with his current mannerisms reminded you so much of the Leo you first started dating, the Leo before the possessive and obsessive nature ran rampant. Maybe it was always there, hiding just below the surface, but no matter what the situation, it was now here to stay. You shift in the seat uncomfortably. You hated when he looked like this. It was too close to reeling you back in, to making you forget the hurt and pain that came with being in his arms. It made you forget the chains he locked around your ankles and the pills he forced down your throat. It was an evil look, one of deceit and arrogance. You refused to let it hook you in again.

“Thank you.” You manage to say, keeping your tone even as to not make the simple phrase seem like an insult. You didn’t want to anger him while he was doing this for you. While you hated being out with him, you loved the new freedom. Being outside was something to be cherished, being in a proper restaurant was something to be treasured.

Leo nods, his attention being overtaken by the young yōkai that seemed to be your waiter. The owl yokai stumbles forward, his clawed talons clicking on the floor as he walks. With a flourish of his arm, he sets the dish on your table, the drinks following close behind. He nods and Leo and winks at you. You hang your head slightly, mumbling a thanks as you try to grab a pizza before Leo can do anything. The scowl on his face made it perfectly clear he saw it too.

“The nerve of some people, why I oughta…” His hands seem to curve together, as if he was smashing the air between his hands into a ball. His eyes glint red, his mood thoroughly soured. You mentally curse the waiter for what he did, knowing it would be much harder to keep him calm once he was set off like this. At least you weren’t the focus of his anger this time though.

Leo frowns, taking a slice from his half of the pizza and takes a bite. The worms that decorate the top seem to almost scream, desperately trying to escape being eaten. You grimace, looking away from the gross display while you chew on your own food.

“I can’t blame him I guess,” He muses, still grumpy from the waiter's supposed show of affection. As you watch him interact with the other patrons, you doubted it truly was a flirt. He seemed to be overly exaggerated with everyone else too. Leo continues, setting his pizza down on the plates provided, taking a sip from his drink. “You’re the best thing here. Still, If he does that again, I’m going to break his beak. He doesn’t get to mess with what’s mine.”

You nod, seemingly agreeing with Leo while you chew on your slice of pizza. If you were eating, he wouldn't expect you to talk. Manners, and all that jazz. You glance over at the owl server as he ducks back into the kitchen, your heart bleeding for the young man. His life didn’t need to be ruined over Leo’s recent temper. You take a long drink from your glass while Leo pokes boredly at his food, trying to wrap your head around Leo as a whole. He was never quick to anger, and he still wasn’t when it came to you. But when others messed with you, or caused you some form of harm? It was like all that learned patience disappeared, his temper flaring quicker and quicker with each incident that happened.

“So,” You start, staring at the pizza in your hand as if it were an ancient artifact you just discovered. “Why take me here?”

Leo looks up, his foot nudging your shin from under the table. “Do you not like it here?”

You shrug, finishing off your slice before dusting your hands off to the side of you. “Just curious. It’s a fine place, just not what I expected when you mentioned taking me out.”

Leo rolls his eyes, grinning cheekily at you. “What, expecting a topside five-star restaurant?”

You roll your eyes, scowling at the blue turtle. “No, just didn’t think you’d take me somewhere with so many people.”

Leo hums, placing another slice of cheese pizza on your plate while eating his own. You glance down at the slice and sigh. It was clear he wanted you to eat. After going on a hunger strike the first three months he took you, he was always paranoid about you and food.

“I thought you’d like it here better. This was the place of our first date after all.”

You sigh and nod again. It was the best response to anything he said. The safest. Leo eyes your face for a moment before grunting, pushing himself back from the table and standing up. You watch him, confusion clouding your eyes as you make to stand too, assuming he wanted to leave after your comments.

“Sit back down, I just need to use the restroom.” Leo says softly, pushing you back into your chair. “Stay here and keep your eyes down. I don’t want you talking to anyone.”

You nod, watching him with doe-eyes and a frightened look. Despite the terror and pain he brought, you didn’t want him to leave. Leo leaving you alone was an unknown, a scenario you hadn’t accounted for. You nod dumbly, furrowing your eyebrows. This was either a trap, or the perfect chance to escape. Did you want to risk it?

Leo’s hand clamps down on your shoulder, directing your gaze to him once more. He squeezes firmly, his voice stern and leaving no room for complaints.

“Don’t talk to anyone. I mean it.”

Leo disappears a moment later, walking across the open room and entering a door to the side. You sit there, uncertain what to do. Would asking for help be worth it? What if he was watching?

You shake your head, your stomach in knots at the opportunity you were letting slip by. It was best to stay put and keep him nice. If this was a test, the better you passed, the more chances you would get to actually run.

You nearly fall out of your chair when you feel a feathered hand on your shoulder, your eyes bugging out of your head. You looked up at the perpetrator, your heart not slowing down despite the non-danger you were in. It was only the waiter, his beak twisted in a nervous smile.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. You’re just the first human I’ve seen.”

You nod, breathless. You start to open your mouth to respond, but Leo’s warning comes flooding back. You lock your lips and shake your head, trying to shoo the man away. You didn’t care if you came off as rude or standoffish in the moment. The closer he was to you, the more danger you were both in.

He places his hand back on your shoulder, trying to comfort you in a way. “Hey, I’m really sorry if I scared you. I just thought you were really cute and uh…”

You glare at the yōkai, willing him to leave. He chuckles nervously, the feathers around his neck brustling slightly. He seemed to be unaware of the danger nor the social awkwardness he just subjected you both to. If Leo was actually your boyfriend, you’d be chewing his ear off about how rude this was.

You sit there and sweat as he continues to ramble on, complimenting you while his feathers continue to bristle and puff as he avoids your gaze. He seemed completely enamored, but you doubted it was from anything that he had seen through your and Leo’s interaction. He most likely just saw a human with a mutant and was trying to shoot his chance. It’s not like humans were a common occurrence after all.

The reasoning behind his borderline pathetic ramble didn’t excuse it though, and you were quickly growing tired of his words. You muster a displeased look on your face and try to shove him back, hoping it would signal to him that he needed to go. It didn’t however, the shove only made him shift his stance. It wasn’t until Leo grabbed him by the neck and threw him down that his talking stopped. A small scream leaves you as you watch Leo hold himself back from ripping the yōkai apart there and then. He turns back to you, not minding the eyes watching you both from the incident.

“Get up. We’re leaving.” He hisses, taking your arm and dragging you up from your seat. He shoves a couple bills on the table to pay for the meal, shoving you through a portal before you can even blink.

You land on the plus mattress Leo had, your knees quickly moving to your chest as you scramble to your feet while Leo enters the room as well. His gaze was dark as he glared down at you, his hands balled into tight fists at his side.

“What was that?!” He demands, making you flinch from the tone of his voice. You take a shaky breath, hoping he would give you enough time to explain.

“He just came up and started rambling! I didn’t want him there, but he wouldn’t leave!”

“Oh please, you didn’t even tell him to stop or go away! You liked their attention.”

You bristle at his words, your face scrunching up as you scowl. “You told me not to talk to anyone!”

“Don’t make me hit you.”

You pause at the growl in his tone and the severity of his words. Your jaw shuts with a quiet click of your teeth, Leo towering over you while you sit on the bed. He huffs slightly, clearly wanting to do something, but fighting with his own loose morals. He curses and shoves you down, grabbing the chain that lived on the wall and attaching it to your ankle. He backs up, his hands still shaking as he tries to even his breathing.

“I’ll be back. Don’t try anything stupid.”

With a flash of blue, he’s gone. You stare at the spot he last was, millions of thoughts running through your mind and each one being about how completely screwed you were. You lay on the bed for hours, your hands twitching and mind reeling from the fear of the unknown. You hoped he would be more calm when he returned. Your leg was still weak from the last time he snapped it.

You weren’t sure how long had passed before Leo waltzed back into the room through a flash of blue, his green skin painted in dark red. The smell of iron and death immediately hits you, your nostrils burning at the scent. He looks at you, smiling softly down. He leans close, but doesn’t touch you, his terrifying presence alone being enough to keep your eyes on his.

“I got rid of your little friend,” He hums, his voice back to its usual smooth tone. He looks proud of himself, his hands dripping with the blood of someone taken far too early. Tears spring in your eyes, your breathing becoming erratic. Leo stands up fully once more, rolling his eyes. “I’m going to go wash off. When I get back, I expect you to be calm. You’ll need to be still when I punish you for your transgression.”

He doesn’t let you respond before he’s out the door, leaving your whimpering person behind. You curl into yourself, trying to control your breathing as you attempt to decode his sentence. You were certain you were about to gain a broken limb. Or worse, lose one.

Leo returns all too soon, his skin still damp and his person void of his wrappings. His mask was gone two, the crescents that suddenly looked way too close to blood standing bright and proud. He strides over to you, leaning down to meet you. His eyes are dark, the shower doing little to better his mood.

“Since you can’t seem to remember who you belong to,” Leo hisses, grabbing your jaw and bringing your face unnervingly close to his own. The red marks on his face seem to be dimly glowing, his eyes boring into your own as he sneers down at you. Your heart was thudding in your chest, your body vibrating from the force of the life-giving organ. ��I’ll give you something that will never let you forget again.”

He reaches into the pouch on his belt, pulling out a sharp kunai knife. You eye the blade, starting to squirm and cry. He shifts his hand so it’s over your mouth and muffling your cries, his hand quickly being wet by your tears. He shifts himself on top of you, pinning your arm with one knee and your torso with the other. You were stuck, immobilized by Leo and your own fear. Your screams increase tenfold as the knife starts to dig into the inner meat of your forearm, the cuts going from your elbow crease to your wrist. It takes a few minutes, but the agony stretches the short amount of time into hours for you, tears flooding your cheeks and screams running your throat raw.

You’re shaking when he moves off of you, not moving in fear of irritating the bloody wounds and making it hurt even more. Leo digs through his drawers for bandages and cleaning supplies, but you don’t care as he starts to treat the wounds he caused. Every press of the hydrogen peroxide soaked cotton balls set your arm aflame once more, making your sobs and screams start to be molded together into one. Leo’s eyes glance at your face, his looks softening ever so slightly.

“This was your fault.” He mumbles, eye muscles furrowed as he continues to clean your arm. You don’t care to hear him nor listen, only focused on the pain radiating from your arm. You try to move away, but Leo holds firm. He was determined to play doctor now that he caused the wound.

Right before he starts to wrap the bandage, you catch a glimpse of your arm. Your flesh was torn up in jagged strokes despite how careful Leo tried to be. Nothing could save you from the image that would be burned into your mind, the forever scars that would mark you as his. “Leonardo” was now carved into your arm, the blood bubbling up making it stand out against your skin. You turn your head to the side and vomit off the bed, unable to take the sight of it.

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