✄ I don't write for other people's existing oc,s but if you have a story idea ill create one around it!
✄ I will write nsfw, just no incest or scat, not really my thing.
✄ Im not obligated to answer your ask but i do try to get to all of them! i appreciate everyone sharing their ideas with me but im not always able to get to every ask :(
People are not ready for yanderes that won’t let you have pets or children because they refuse to let anyone else take up a second of your time and affection.
Pets are silently re-homed, they make sure you take your birth control(or slip it into something if you don’t want to take it), and of course you have to stay inside where only they can receive all of your love!
The outside world is dangerous, pets carry diseases, and children would stress their poor darling out far too much! Don’t you understand that they’re just making sure you’re safe?
Aren’t they enough for you?
They better be, because you’ll be spending the rest of your life tucked away with them somewhere safe and cozy, where they can monopolize all of your time and keep you to themself!
Don’t even try to suggest getting a pet or trying for a baby, they’ll sob and ask why you’d ever want anything more than them, asking why they’re not good enough. It works and you avoid asking again, leaving them satisfied.
Thinking about Yandere Gojo who approached you for a bet. Trying to prove he was everyone’s type. Not expecting to fall head over heels in love with you. By the time he realized what he felt he could only hope that you would never find out how your relationship started but those sorts of secrets never stay hidden.
You could never have expected he would hurt you like this. Knowing that your relationship started as a lie made all of it seem hard to believe no matter how much Gojo tried to convince you his feelings for you were real. It was too bad Gojo wouldn’t let you go even if you wanted to leave now.
Wordcount: 7k+
Notes: Not canon-compliant, yandere behaviour, stalking and violence.
"Are you really not gonna come out with us?" Buzzcut asked for the fifth time in a row making Gojo sigh.
"I told you I have no desire to come out and see you get rejected over and over again." Gojo responded making the others snicker and buzzcut turn an ugly shade of red. His narrow eyes flicking to something behind Gojo before his face seemed to take on an odd gleeful expression.
Gojo didn't care what was making buzzcut look like a cat who got the cream, he wouldn't even care if the dude caught fire and fell off a building when you weren't responding to any of his texts. He had sent you 8 messages since this morning hoping to have lunch with you between his classes instead of these doofuses but you were probably too caught up in your studying to respond to your boyfriend. He knew it was just that but he couldn't help but get antsy when he didn't hear back from you, immediately assuming the worst.
"Can't believe you're still with that nerd, you should be out there hitting on girls with us." Buzzcut said, capturing Gojo's attention by mentioning you. Gojo slid his phone in his pocket, finally turning his full attention on the boy who was just begging to be put in his place at this point.
"I have no interest in others, I'm in a relationship and don't call them a nerd again unless you want all your teeth knocked out." Gojo said, gritting his teeth as buzzcut scoffed out an ugly laugh. The others straightening up as they saw Gojo tense, as if ready to intervene whenever Gojo's restraint snapped.
"You call that a relationship? You're only fucking them cause of the bet but I guess their hole must really be something since you decided to stick with them even after winning."
The last thread of Gojo's restraint snapped and he lunged forward, the boy not even having a chance to brace himself before Gojo's fist was connecting with his nose with a highly satisfying crack. Blood spurting out as the bone twisted into a direction that was still an improvement from the way the boy had looked before.
Gojo was nowhere near done, fist smashing into the boy's face over and over until his eyes rolled back into his skull but the sound of your voice through the haze of fury that had consumed him made him freeze. His grip around the boy's collar slackened, blood running cold. Buzzcut slumped to the floor, the others dragging the boy out of Gojo's reach.
"Is what he said true?" You asked from behind him. Voice coloured with hurt making his stomach drop.
"Was I just a bet to you Satoru?" You asked and he forced himself to turn, praying this was just a nightmare and he would wake up any moment.
There you stood, pretty eyes filling with tears as you stared at him with a wounded expression on your face. He felt like the ground slid out from beneath his feet. You were never supposed to find out.
"No baby listen he was just spouting nonsense." Gojo said, taking a step towards you, hands reaching out for you but faltering as you took a step back. Arms coming up to wrap around yourself as though trying to protect yourself.
"Why would he say it if it wasn't true? That doesn't make any sense."
"Cause he's a fucking idiot that wants to mess with me. Please believe me darling, you mean the world to me." Gojo said, trying to reach for you again. Desperate to pull you in close to his chest when you looked so hurt and vulnerable.
"Don't come near me." You said, holding your hand out before you.
"How could you do this to me?" You asked, the first tear dropping from your eyes down your cheek making Gojo feel like his heart was breaking in half. He had made you cry. You, the only person to ever have loved him and wanted to be with him for who he was. Not his looks, not his popularity or his money but just for him, shitty as he was.
He could feel a lump forming at the back of his throat, eyes stinging as tears swelled in his eyes. A cloying desperation to somehow keep you with him and keep you from leaving making it hard to breathe.
"I love you, please don't cry. I was a fucking idiot, I never should have agreed to that dumb bet but other than not telling you about the bet everything else was real. The way I feel about you is real." Gojo said, heart in his throat as he waited for you to respond, uncaring of all the eyes on them from the crowd that had gathered.
"Do you think I would believe a word you say after what you've done? You turned me into a joke." You said, bottom lip beginning to wobble as you tried to hold it in.
Gojo felt like fucking scum for putting that wounded look on your face. You swiped at the tears running down your cheek, glancing over to the side and hunching in on yourself as you saw a crowd had formed around you two. Students whispering amongst themselves as they watched avidly. Gojo wanted to tear them all apart and pull you in to his arms to hide you away from their prying eyes.
"Darling come on let's go somewhere private. We can talk without these assholes watching. Just give me a chance to explain." Gojo said, wanting to shield you from their eyes but knowing you didn't want him touching you right now.
"I'm not going anywhere with you. Don't ever come near me again." You said turning to leave and Gojo couldn't stop himself, body moving automatically to stop you from leaving.
A large hand caught you by the shoulder, turning you back around and Gojo grabbed onto your upper arms to hold you in place. You pushed at his arms, trying to get him to release you.
"Darling please just give me a chance to explain." Gojo begged, pulling you in closer by his hold on you till you were nearly chest to chest. Your struggles nothing in comparison to the strength of the Gojo Satoru.
"Let go of me." You demanded, trying to push away. Finally glancing up to his face to say something more harsh but voice dying in your throat as you caught sight of him. Your heart skipped a beat at the look in those blue eyes. It was a level of desperation you had never witnessed before, a frenzy lighting up his gaze as tears poured down his cheeks making you struggle harder to get away.
It was a relief when Gojo's friends returned and pulled him away from you. It took the combined effort of four burly boys to hold Gojo back as he struggled to get to you. You snatched up your bag that had fallen when Gojo grabbed you and ran off, uncaring who you knocked into in your haste to get away from the most humiliating moment in your life.
You heard days later that Gojo had turned on all of them. Taking out his rage on them until someone called campus security and he was detained by them.
You hadn't seen him around campus when you returned to school after a few days of hiding out in your house too embarrassed to be seen in public, so you guessed the rumours that he had been suspended for his behaviour were true. That didn't mean though that he wasn't trying to contact you.
Gojo had been blowing up your phone with calls and text after text of rambling paragraphs. Filling up your voicemail before you had even gotten home from campus. You had blocked him but then started receiving calls from other numbers. Either he was using his friends phones to call you or the maniac was acquiring different numbers to call you from. Based on how rich you knew his family was, you wouldn't put it past him.
You wondered why he couldn't even do you the decency of leaving you alone now that you knew this had all been just a game to him. While you had been falling head over heels for the boy you thought you saw behind the image of popular boy Gojo Satoru, he had been laughing with his friends about what a fool you were. Probably reporting back to them on how far he had gotten with you, how easy it was to make you fall for him.
The image of them all laughing at you plagued your nightmares. You wanted nothing to do with Gojo. All you wanted was to move on from it all, for people to stop whispering and snickering behind your back at campus. For you to stop finding traces of him as you went about your day. For your heart to stop aching over someone who had been so cruel to you when you had done nothing to deserve it.
The first time you saw him at campus you couldn't help yourself and turned tail and ran. He seemed to have noticed you and chased after you, calling out your name and pleading for you to stop and just listen to what he had to say. You ran as fast as you could but couldn't compete with his freakishly long legs or the advantage he had of the crowd parting to make way when they saw him coming. He caught up with you in an empty corridor or perhaps waited until you reached one before blocking off your path and forcing you to stop running.
"Darling please just listen to what I have to say. I've been trying to get in touch with you for days. You won't respond to any of my calls or texts." Gojo said, hands held out before him as though he wanted to reach out to you but was trying to hold back.
"I don't want to hear anything you have to say. Just stay away from me." You said, firmly as you could while fighting to catch your breath from the impromptu chase.
"I know what I did was wrong. I never should have agreed to that bet. It was cruel and disgusting but I never would have met you without it. It's what brought me you." He said, watching your pretty features contort into disgust telling him you didn't understand what he meant. How could you? He had found his everything through that stupid bet.
There was no guarantee your paths would have crossed without it. You were in a different major, a different year. Had it not been for you being the first person to walk into the campus pub him and his friends had been in debating whether Gojo really was everyone's type, then there was no reason for you two to have become acquainted. One of his friends had challenged him to seduce the next person who walked in to the pub to prove he really was everyone's type as he claimed and that was what had set his sights on you.
You didn't look the type to just abandon your drunk friend you were clearly there to pick up and go home with the first pretty face who offered so Gojo had taken the slow approach with you. Staging a run-in at the university library. Learning your schedule so he could continue to coincidentally run in to you on campus.
You were a tough nut to crack, obviously having heard of his reputation. His friends were so glad you were the one to walk in when weeks passed without you so much as agreeing on a date and the more Gojo got to know you, the more glad he was that it was you too. He had more fun just talking to you whenever he saw you on campus than he had on any of the dates he had been on or talking to those friends he was supposedly doing this for. By the time you finally agreed to date him, Gojo had already fallen for you.
No one had ever been able to look past the rich, popular boy facade to the real him. Not only did you see the real Satoru, but you liked him for who he was. You didn't care for the expensive gifts or the reputation that came with being Gojo Satoru's partner. You were content with just spending time with him. Moreover you actually cared about him when no one ever had before.
He had never realized how empty and meaningless his life had been until he met you. It didn't take long before you became a need for him. He was hooked onto you in a way he had never been hooked onto anything.
He had told his friends the bet was off, that he wanted a real relationship with you. You meant so much more to him than his image, he'd lose everything he had if it meant he would get to keep you. Warning them to never speak of the bet or tell anyone else about it lest you ever hear and question their relationship.
He had thought they would heed his warnings, thinking them sufficiently intimated enough by him to keep their mouths shut. He hadn't anticipated that some of them would be so bitter as to try to sabotage the only good thing he had. Buzzcut had paid dearly for what he had done. Putting him in the hospital hadn't been enough. Gojo had gone to the hospital and broken enough bones until his bloodlust was somewhat quelled, though it wouldn't be fully quenched while that boy breathed or until you forgave him.
That was what had kept him from you for days. He'd been under house arrest, the family lawyers dealing with buzzcut's parents who were threatening to press charges and sue. Eventually they'd caved when offered a fully expensed move abroad where their son's facial reconstruction and schooling would be paid for. Though Gojo thought it was probably more so the understanding that if the Gojos could afford to make such offers it was unlikely much would come out of pressing charges against their son.
His eyes had longed to see you, chest feeling like it was caving in going so long without smelling your scent, hearing your sweet voice or feeling your touch. He had been deprived of your presence and it had turned him into an absolute mess.
Nothing mattered without you. Not food, not sleep, not him. He needed you like he needed air. You had turned him into a person but he didn't know how to be one without you.
"You're telling me you don't regret it? For days I didn't want to leave my apartment because I was too embarrassed to be seen. Even now everywhere I go people point at me and laugh and you can't even muster up a little regret?" You asked, rage making your insides feel like they were shaking.
"No darling that's not what I mean. Of course I regret hurting you, I want to tear myself to shreds for what I did to you but I'm glad I was led to you, regardless of how it was. You showed me how to be human, how to live." Gojo said, grabbing onto your hand and bringing it to his heart.
"You're not human." You said, yanking your hand out of his grasp.
"I can't live without you, please don't make me." He pleaded, getting all too close.
"Is this another bet? To see if you can fool the same idiot twice?" You asked.
"No, no of course not. You have to believe me I called that off the moment I realized what I felt for you." He said, blue eyes earnest and pleading but you had fallen for those eyes before. Believed him when he had been lying to you so you had no reason to trust him now.
"The fact that you ever agreed to do something so terrible disgusts me. I don't believe you but even if what you're saying is true it doesn't change the fact that you're deplorable enough to do such a thing. I want nothing to do with you. Stay away from me Gojo." You said, breaking his heart. This was what he had always feared, that you would want nothing to do with him once you realized what a terrible person he was.
"I can change." He promised desperation colouring his voice.
"Don't leave me. I promise I'll be better. I've changed since I met you and I'll do anything you want me to." Gojo pleaded making you falter at how frantic he seemed to convince you what he was saying was true. It didn't make any sense why he was acting like his world was ending when someone he had treated like a fool wanted to walk away from him.
When you were dating he would make you promise that you would never leave him, make you say it over and over again that you were his and you two would be together forever. It had seemed sweet to you then, thinking your boyfriend loved you so much he wanted to be with you forever.
You didn't know much about his childhood but knew his parents had never been very present. More the type to throw money into childcare and keeping their children entertained than actually try to parent. You had assumed that was what fueled the clinginess, the constant need for your reassurance and attention. Now you didn't know what was real and what just an act to make you fall for him.
"All I want is for you to leave me alone." You said going to walk away but he wrapped his arms around your waist, dropping to his knees before you making you falter.
Gojo hugged you tightly to keep you from leaving, burying his face in your stomach muttering something that got muffled against your skin so you couldn't make it out.
"Gojo get off of me." You said, pushing at his broad shoulders to get him to release you. He turned his face up towards you, eyes glassy and red rimmed with tears, tip of his nose pinkening.
"Don't leave me, I'll die without you." Gojo said making your heart clench at seeing the boy you had cared so much about looking so heartbroken. But the reality was he had done this, he had hurt you and you had no reason to believe him. For all you knew this could be an act too and even if it wasn't you couldn't trust him anymore.
"You'll be fine, onto the next bet in no time." You responded.
"No there will never be anyone else. Only you." Gojo said, uttering the words like a promise.
"Get off Gojo." You demanded, pushing with as much strength as you could muster. Not even caring if you hurt him at this point with how badly you wanted to get away before his words could melt your resolve.
"Stop calling me that, it's Toru to you." Gojo mumbled, tightening his hold on you and nuzzling his face against your stomach.
"Hey what do you two think you're doing?" A gruff voice called making you jump and Gojo's grip falter slightly. You took the opportunity to push away from him.
"This is a place of education, you can't be doing such things here." The professor said, walking towards both of you just as Gojo grabbed onto your wrist.
"Let go of them them right this instant." The professor ordered but Gojo only stared stubbornly at the man, holding your wrist so tightly it was beginning to ache.
"Let go before I call security." The man demanded.
"Gojo let go, you're hurting me." You said making him turn to you, finally releasing your wrist as he saw the pained expression on your face.
As soon as you were released you ducked past the professor to leave, walking as fast as you could without breaking out into another run. Hearing the professor ask Gojo where he thought he was going and glancing back as you turned the corner to see him blocking Gojo's way.
You went out through the first exit you could find, knowing the professor wouldn't be able to hold Gojo for long and he would come after you again the moment he could. Your classes of the day weren't as important to you as ensuring you didn't run into Gojo again so you went straight home.
You had already put in a request to transfer to another university when the next semester started. There was only a couple weeks before exams left in this one and you could get by without attending lectures. Not only was it humiliating to be seen when word of what had happened had spread all across campus, there was also the threat of running into Gojo who seemed to have decided he wasn't done with you yet.
Gojo spent the next couple of days waiting outside your classes hoping to see you again so he could talk to you but it seemed you had stopped coming to school. Your friends hadn't seen you either when he asked and neither had any of your classmates. It was driving him insane to not see you. You wouldn't answer any texts or calls and had hung up as soon as you heard his voice when he convinced one of your friends to let him use their phone to call you.
You were backing him into a corner. He had to see you, he was dying without you. It felt like he couldn't breathe, no amount of alcohol could make him stop thinking of you. His friends had tried to convince him to forget you, getting black eyes for daring to say you were nothing special.
Even his parents had noticed. His mother taking the time from her busy day to tell him his dark circles were getting out of hand. Suggesting he stop smoking so much, he was starting to smell like an ash tray. Luckily she hadn't waited for a response since if pressed he wouldn't have given a particularly appropriate one.
You left him no choice but to wait outside your apartment. You may not be going to school but you had to leave at some point and then maybe he could talk to you where no one would interrupt the both of you. He knew how kindhearted you were, you had to forgive him. You couldn't just walk away from what you both had like it was nothing. Couldn't leave him when you had promised to stay with him forever.
It was ridiculous to be holed up in your apartment to avoid running into your ex but Gojo had left you no choice. Apparently not even your friends could be trusted since they had let Gojo use their phone to call you. You could avoid going out to see them and even not go to your last couple classes before exams but eventually you had to go grocery shopping.
You followed after the herd of people filing out of the elevator towards the door, glad you had decided to live off campus so at least no one here stared at you or whispered about you within hearing range. You thought you were imagining it when you saw a mop of white hair outside through the large group of people ahead of you but a guy like him didn't exactly blend in. Even leant back against the wall he was still taller than everyone else around, standing out like a beacon amongst all the ordinary folk.
You ducked behind a wall, getting a couple curious glances thrown at you but seeming odd was the least of your worries when your ex-boyfriend was actively stalking you. Your first instinct was to call the police but standing outside an apartment building wasn't a crime and the most they would do when showed all the texts is tell him to stop contacting you. Nothing would come out of a complaint other than taking up your valuable study time with finals right around the corner.
It was fortunate your building had another exit in case of emergencies. People usually stood around there smoking too so you could probably be let in once you got back though you might have to wait a couple minutes. That was preferable to Gojo making a scene in front of all the building residents.
You were practically out of everything since you had been avoiding leaving the house as long as you could. You got everything on the list you had made for yourself, constantly looking over your shoulder to ensure Gojo hadn't followed you there.
It would be a struggle to carry it all back but it was fortunate the supermarket was so close to your house. Though you normally would have stuck to the main roads, how heavy all the bags were made you cut across the industrial area that was like a ghost town on the weekends.
You had been walking while cursing to yourself for not thinking of getting a taxi even if it was a short walk when your arms felt like they were breaking off. Falling quiet when you heard the sound of footsteps behind you. You turned quickly to check but couldn't see anyone, a cold sweat breaking out on your body as it now sounded like the footsteps were on the other side making you whirl around to face forward again.
Your heart was pounding in your chest as you hurried through all the buildings, all too aware of how many places someone could hide and jump out from. It had been incredibly stupid to take the shortcut when you knew no one would be here. You couldn't shake the feeling of being watched but tried to convince yourself it was just paranoia, a scream escaping you when you heard a door slam startling a group of crows nearby.
They cawed at you in vexation and for a moment you felt quite foolish. Clearly someone was still working there, maybe maintenance or cleaning since you had heard a door. It was slightly reassuring to know you weren't alone and it wasn't just because someone was prowling after you.
You could see the bend in the street coming up and hastened your pace, eager to get back on the main road. A door opened behind you but you didn't glance back, too focused on getting out of there as fast as you could.
A hand wrapped over the lower half of your face making you jolt as you were tugged back into a broad chest. The hand muffling your scream as you were dragged backwards. You dropped the grocery bags you held to claw at the hand over your mouth but it was no use. Your strength was no match for your assailant's. They managed to drag you into the nearest building despite your struggles to stay rooted and throw off the arm they had wound around your waist.
You were slammed back against a wall as the door shut with a bang behind you both. Your hair strewn across your face in your struggles mixed with the poor lighting in the building as the door blocked off any of the outside light making you unable to see your attacker.
You pushed and shoved at them blindly, nails catching on skin and tearing until they took their hand off your mouth to catch your wrists. Pinning them both next to your head. Your eyes adjusted slowly as you panted for air, bringing into focus red-rimmed bright blue eyes taking in every part of your face like a man soaking in the sun after being left in the dark for too long.
It was Gojo but he was almost unrecognizable. A mad glint in his eyes, dark circles beneath them so pronounced it looked like he hadn't slept since you last saw him. Cheeks hollow as though he hadn't been eating, hair a floppy mess like he had been running his hands through it as you know he was prone to do when stressed. Red lines slashed across his temple to his nose where your nails seemed to have caught him.
You turned your face away as you caught the stench of cigarettes and booze. He hadn't been in good shape when you had seen him at university but now he looked like a mad man. The Gojo Satoru you had known was nowhere to be seen.
For the first time you felt truly afraid of him but tried to push down the fear. Convincing yourself he was just a boy from university and you could handle him.
"Gojo what do you think you're doing?" You asked, trying to keep your voice from shaking.
"Don't call me that." He said making anger boil up from your core giving you a bit of courage.
"This is insane Gojo, let me go right now or I swear to god I will scream." You threatened.
"You can scream all you want darling but no one is going to hear you. There's no one here." Gojo said making your heart sink. You knew he was right, no one came here on the weekend and no one would hear you on the streets nearby screaming from within a building.
"Let go." You demanded again, fighting with all your might to get out of his hold. Not caring if you bruised your wrists, arching up off the wall to try to push against him but he leaned his weight onto you. Keeping you pinned in place with his whole body pressed against you leaving you not even an inch of space to try to weasel out.
You turned your face away in disgust as he pressed his cheek against yours. Burying his face in your hair and inhaling your scent greedily as you trembled against him. The reality of your situation settling in.
Gojo was both much larger than you and much stronger. If he tried to hold you down there was no chance of you getting away. Your only hope was to get him to release you himself.
"G-Gojo you're scaring me." You muttered, hoping that would make him back off.
"I asked you not to call me that." He responded, nuzzling his nose along the line of your jaw to your temple.
"Satoru please let go of me." You relented.
"So you can run away again?" He asked and you shook your head quickly, forcing yourself to turn your face back towards him. Gulping at how close it put both of you, his nose nearly brushing against yours when you faced him. His eyes dropping to your lips.
"I won't, I promise. We can talk, just please let go. You're hurting me." You said and he looked up into your eyes. You tried your best to hold his gaze, trying to keep the fear off your expression so he would believe you.
"Fine." He said, easing off of you and releasing your wrists. You rubbed at each of them, watching him warily. Trying not to look towards the door since you knew with him standing right in front of you there was no chance of you outrunning him and it wouldn't do to put him more on guard than he already was.
"Sit." He said, dragging over a little stool. You took his momentary distraction to take a quick look around. This seemed like a factory of sorts and you could see there was one more door at the other end of the building, though you couldn't tell from here if it led outside or to stairs. You sat down as he glanced back at you, leaning away when he got down on his knees before you, taking your hands in his own.
"I'm sorry we have to talk in a place like this but you gave me no choice. It's a lucky thing I recognized you walking down the street. Can't believe you'd go so far as to leave through the fire exit to avoid your own boyfriend." He muttered.
"We're not dating anymore." You reminded him carefully, regretting it when he clenched his jaw in anger. Eyes narrowed down at your hands in his.
"I know I made a mistake darling and I'm sorry. I never should have agreed to that bet but I can't change the fact that I was an asshole before I met you. The thing is, you changed me. You made me want to be better. I swear I'll spend my life making it up to you." Gojo said, glancing up at you and you tried to hide the unease on your face.
"Satoru why don't we go talk at my house? This isn't really a great place to have this conversation." You said, hoping he would agree. If you could just get him to let you out of here you'd start screaming the moment you got to the main road. This was beyond time to involve the police.
"No." He protested loudly making you flinch.
"I know what you're trying to do, I'm not an idiot." He continued.
"I'm not trying anything. We can go to my place and talk things out there." You offered, forcing yourself to lean towards him and hold his gaze with your own imploring one.
"You really think I'm stupid enough to fall for that? You've been avoiding me for weeks and suddenly now you want to talk at your house? Why don't you hear me out here? I'm trying to talk to you but you're not even listening." Gojo said.
"I'm only saying that because you're bleeding. I didn't know it was you, I didn't mean to scratch you so hard." You said, pulling your hand out of his and trying to keep it from noticeably trembling as you brought it to his face. Cupping your cheek in his hand, running your thumb gently under the scratch marks. He froze for a moment at the feel of your touch after so long before melting into it, nuzzling his face into your hand. Seeming to loose some of his steam as he gazed up at you with hope filled eyes.
"Come on, let's go to my place. I can put some ointment on for you Toru." You cajoled. He slumped forward against you, going boneless at hearing your old nickname for him.
"Fine, let's go. This place isn't suitable for you anyway. It's all cold and dark but promise me you're not just saying this to try to get away again?" Gojo asked, perking up to look you in the eye.
"I'm not, it's cold here and we need to dress that." You said, nodding at his scratches.
It seemed to work as he got up on his feet, holding his hand out to you and you placed your hand within his, letting him pull you up. Holding your breath as he led you out, near faint with relief once you were finally out of that dark, dank building where no one would have even heard you scream.
"Actually let's go to mine, my folks aren't home so we can talk there. I'm parked just on the other side." Gojo said just as you caught sight of a woman wearing a grey uniform loading some trash bags into a van.
Your breath caught in your throat and Gojo seemed to notice your reaction, turning his head to look at you but before he could do anything you dragged in a breath. Already having made up your mind.
"Help." You screamed loud as you could, ripping your hand from Gojo's and breaking out into a run. You didn't even get more than a couple steps away before Gojo was pulling you back roughly into his arms.
Slamming his hand over your mouth, he dragged you into the space shadowed between the two buildings. Your heart pounding in your chest as you prayed fervently that the woman would investigate the screams for help.
You struggled against Gojo, leaning out so you could see around the corner, catching sight of the women holding out a headphone, glancing around. Your screams now muffled by Gojo's palm. You tried to kick back to make some noise but he spun you both so you were pressed into the wall. His body pinning you in place.
Your screams died in your throat as you heard the distinct sound of a car door slamming shut, the rumbling of an engine starting up and the van driving off. You sobbed into Gojo's hand, slumping against the wall in defeat. You had ruined your best bet at getting away by getting too antsy. If you had just waited till you were on the main street then you could have been saved.
"Didn't I tell you not to try anything?" Gojo whispered gruffly into your ear.
"You can't get away from me darling. I won't let anyone get between us. It's a lucky thing she didn't hear you, if she had I would have had to kill her." He said making you cry even harder.
Sobs shuddering through you and he removed his hand from your face, running his hands down the length of your hair as though trying to soothe you though his words were doing anything but.
"I can't believe you would lie to me like that. I trusted you, now I know better." He said, twisting you around in his arms so he could see your face. He swiped at the tears running down your cheeks and you weakly pushed at his chest, trying to get him off of you but knowing you stood no chance.
"I hate you, get off of me." You sobbed, no longer thinking clearly or you would have known that was the worst thing to say to him in that moment.
He grabbed your face in his hands suddenly, forcing you to turn your face up to his.
"Don't you fucking say that. You don't hate me, you love me. You said so yourself. You're just mad but you'll get over it. You're such a kindhearted person, you'll forgive me." Gojo said, swooping down and crashing his lips over yours. Your outraged cry was muffled by his mouth, you tried to turn your head but were unable to while caught in his grasp. His lips moved against yours as he tried to deepen the kiss, wanting you to open your mouth so he could get a proper taste of you as he had been dying to.
You bit down on his lip, left with no other choice. The metallic taste of his blood flooding into your mouth before he pulled back. Not releasing you entirely, instead pressing biting kisses down your throat. Mumbling mine over and over again in a crazed frenzy. The sticky, tacky feeling of his blood and saliva cooling on the skin of your throat making you so disgusted you felt like you would throw up.
"Let go." You screamed, pushing at him. You brought your knee up, hitting him squarely between his thighs making his grip on you falter and you took the opportunity to slip out from beneath him.
You ran as hard as you could, not bothering to call for help when you doubted anyone would be able to hear you. You could hear footsteps behind you making your heart feel like it would pound its way out of your chest in fear knowing he was already giving chase.
You made the foolish mistake of glancing back, your toe jamming into the ground and nearly making you trip but you were able to right yourself. The few seconds costing you most of the distance you had put between the both of you. You turned to face forward again, trying to force your legs to go faster.
A hand grazed your shoulder making your heart skip a beat. You ducked out of the way, unfortunately having to switch directions from towards the road to another building in order to evade his grasp.
"You can't outrun me darling." Gojo yelled from behind you, not even slightly out of breath though you felt like you were already panting for air.
You ignored him, trying to see if there was a way you could run between the buildings and get out onto the road but they seemed to be fenced in on the other side. You wouldn't make it back to the street the supermarket was on before he caught you, his footsteps were getting closer with every second that passed.
You whirled around before you could have a chance to think it over, ducking beneath his arm that swept out to grab you and running past him back towards the road. For a moment you couldn't hear footsteps behind you.
You didn't dare look back, focused on getting off this street and to the main road where there would be other people who could help you. There was only two more large buildings before you hit the bend that led to the main road. You pumped your legs even harder with your target so close by, just about to turn past the last building when out of your peripheral you saw a shadow, something slamming into your temple before you could turn to look.
Your head was whipped over to the other side and you went down instantly. Unable to feel the pain as your vision blurred, white sneakers in your line of vision. You felt hands grabbing you from beneath your arms, dragging you up and clutching your body against something warm. You blinked sluggishly to try to keep the blood out of your eye, fighting to hold onto consciousness as your head spun.
"I'm so sorry darling but I had to do this. We need to go away from all these people trying to keep us apart and you're just so angry you won't listen. You left me no choice." You heard him say, making your hands twitch as you realized it was him holding you but you didn't have the strength left to try to push him away.
You could only mumble out a soft protest that was hushed cooingly. A large trembling hand brushing back your hair that was plastered against your face in blood.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of you. You'll see, we're going to be so happy." Gojo muttered, lifting you up into his arms and starting to head for his car, trying not to jostle you too much. He faded in and out of focus as the darkness threatened to consume you.
"Just us, no one to get between us. Together, forever like you promised."
His words were the last things you heard before you lost the battle to stay awake and the darkness pulled you under.
inspired from that one scene from the film The House That Jack Built (tho reader gets a better outcome, all things considered)
Kishibe x female!reader
Warnings: noncon, smut, fingering, groping, kidnapping, captivity, sexual harassment, mentions of gore, mentions of death
Word Count: 13.9k
The bar that you worked at just so happened to be situated close to the main office of the devil hunters, and as a result, a fair amount of your clientele were those same people who worked in Public Safety, usually the ones that were just getting off work and were in desperate need of a drink after spending a work shift witnessing countless horrors.
Despite your job as a bartender not coming close in terms of what they went through, you saw a lot just from witnessing the state they were in when you served them: the exhaustion that had seeped into their bones after they would sit down and the far-off gazes as they relived whatever fresh hell they'd been through before downing the rest of their drinks before calling you for another. Sometimes there were even entrails that covered them which you needed to clean up; it was only possible to do so once you held a spare rag up to your mouth and nose while keeping the dustpan as far away from you as possible before you deposited the remains in the dumpster at the back, after which you would quickly scurry away, eager to escape the awful smell.
It'd be easy to be annoyed with them for things like that, but you kept yourself in line by reminding yourself that they were the ones killing the devils so people like you could live in relative safety. If the price for that was sometimes needing to clean up something gross, you could live with that.
And certainly the last thing the exhausted hunters needed was someone nagging at them about a mess.
You got used to the changing faces, of those who either left or those who had died in the line of duty. More often than not, they simply stopped coming in with no explanation, which was a good indication that they were dead, as the ones who would quit usually ended up telling you their life story: why they got into devil hunting, what had happened since that point and why they now wanted to leave. You would listen – they didn't really want much engagement from you, just for someone to hear them out. At the end of it, the hunter would usually slam down their glass and declare that they were going to quit before heading out the door and you never saw them again.
Though there were often times when they would softly put down their empty glass and decide that they needed to keep with it despite the hardship. The irony that followed was that sometimes those hunters who decided to keep going didn't come in after that.
Even though you could make a good guess as to what had likely happened, you preferred to tell yourself that they had changed their mind immediately after and decided to quit after all. Even if it was a lie you were telling yourself, it was nicer to imagine a happy outcome for them, a future that they could – and should – have had.
And the faces at the bar continued to change.
Except for one.
Kishibe.
During the entirety of your year and a half of working at the bar, the biggest constant was the man who called himself the strongest devil hunter and who always, always came in for a drink once his shift had finally ended.
He was an odd one, to say the least. In terms of looks, he stood out almost immediately from the other devils hunters in large part due to his blonde hair and the recognizable scar that ran from the corner of his mouth and across his left cheek. And in terms of what he was like as a person, from what you could see, his monotone way of speaking and his quiet demeanor was deemed to be unsettling to most who interacted with him. He was also constantly drinking, as on more than one occasion you saw him take a swig of that flask he always carried around right as he entered the bar and then again when he left. That, combined with how much he drank at what became his designated seat at the bar, left you thinking that the fact that his liver was still functioning at his age was nothing short of a miracle.
Speaking to him had been weird at first. You had assumed that he would be like the other hunters who came in on their own, the ones who were in a bad place and were trying to drown out the turbulent feelings inside of them by way of harsh liquor. Those ones didn't want to talk; they just wanted a drink and for you to leave them alone until they needed a refill. With your experience with other hunters and the general vibe that surrounded Kishibe, it seemed like the safest choice to keep your distance from him.
But despite your attempts at creating that space, Kishibe turned out to be eager for a chat whenever you were around.
Though the topics the two of you could discuss were limited, you slowly found yourself warming up to the veteran hunter the more you spoke with him. While it was hard to tell what Kishibe was feeling in general, the fact that he continued to seek out your company told you that, at the very least, he found you to be tolerable. Tolerable enough to ask you questions that were guaranteed to get him boring answers. You doubted that he cared much about what your day had been like before you arrived for your shift or what the results of your off-day shopping trips were; he must have just wanted to hear something about how the average person's normal day went, one that was free of hunting and killing.
Until he told you to stop or he didn't bother to ask anymore, you were happy to oblige.
At that moment, Kishibe was on his third drink, staring down at the dark liquid within the glass with the same blank expression that was always on his face. Just like the other devil hunters that were currently in the bar, he was finished for the day and was getting a few drinks before he'd head home. Though with Kishibe it definitely wouldn't be just a few, and it wouldn't end with whatever he got at the bar.
It was relatively quiet at the moment with the small bits of chatter throughout the room being contained to the tables where the other patrons sat, so there was no need to raise your voice when you spoke to him.
“Kill a lot of devils today?” you asked.
Kishibe glanced up at you before returning his gaze to the glass.
“No, nothing like that today,” he said.
“Oh? Then were you training new recruits again?”
“Some of that,” he answered plainly, “but today I was mostly dealing with paperwork.”
“Ah.”
While you weren't inclined to say paperwork was the worst thing to deal with considering that the man killed monsters for a living, you could easily see how trudging through documents and filling out papers could be an exceptionally mind numbing experience.
“I guess it's too bad that being the best devil hunter doesn't exempt you from the boring parts of the job,” you said.
He shrugged.
“It's something that inevitably comes with any sort of job,” Kishibe told you, raising the glass to his lips after.
You leaned your elbow on the surface of the bar as you asked “did the training with your students go well at least?”
“No,” he answered bluntly.
“Oh. Why not?”
Kishibe waited to reply as he took another swig of his drink before saying “they're motivated by money, which is the worst reason to join Public Safety. Not only that, but they're hopelessly weak as well, which makes training them even more of a waste of time.”
“But the point of training them is to make them stronger, right?” you asked.
“There's no point because they're not cut out for it.”
“Is that you saying that they're not crazy enough?”
“It is.”
“Ah.”
You'd heard him say that before. About how the only people who can make it as devil hunters are the crazy ones and anyone who was too sane was little more than cannon fodder. His words.
Whether or not what he was saying was correct wasn't something you could really judge, but considering how long he'd been at that job, it was possible that there just might be some truth to what he was saying, though you doubted anyone else at Public Safety would be willing to agree with his statement out loud.
“Well,” you began, “maybe they'll surprise you. Maybe they just need a bit more time.”
“Doubtful. You either are cut out for devil hunting or you aren't. And these ones aren't,” said Kishibe.
He took a cursory glance across the room before he added “they'd be more suitable for a job like this one.”
Then he looked back to you as he asked “you need any new workers?”
You shook your head.
“Unfortunately we're all good on staff, so I don't think we can take any of them,” you answered jokingly.
“I see.”
He brought the glass back up to his lips as he said “then I guess they'll be dead soon enough.”
Kishibe spoke those words in that same monotone voice, while part of you wanted to believe that he was just a fan of dark humor, you knew him well enough by now to know that he meant what he said. Whoever these students were, they must have been massively under-performing for his opinion of them to be so low.
“Have you tried talking to them about that?” you then asked.
“I have. They just see it as motivation to prove me wrong,” he said, “I'm not going to bother if all it does it encourage stupid behavior.”
“And you can't speak to anyone higher up about your concerns?”
“Very few apply to work at Public Safety in general, so they'll accept anyone without question.”
“They're that desperate for hunters?”
Kishibe nodded.
You smiled, taking the opportunity to joke as you said “maybe I should apply then, especially if they don't care much about someone's background. It'd probably pay better than what I get from this place.”
In response to that, Kishibe gave you a long, hard look, his glass held in midair as he stared at you. Though his expression remained neutral, you got the sense that he wasn't amused.
“…. I was joking,” you said, “I know that I'm not up for killing devils.”
Just like that, the slight bit of tension that had fallen on the two of you dissipated. and the air felt light once again.
“That's good,” he told you, bringing the glass to his lips before saying “you're smart in knowing your limits.”
“Unlike your students?”
“Yeah.”
With one last swig, he drained what was in the glass. The veteran devil hunter then set it down closer to you, silently asking you for a refill. You obliged, grabbing the nearby bottle you had opened for him earlier and filling up the glass until it reached the brim.
As you put the bottle back on the shelf and while he lifted the glass to his lips once again, you commented “it is nice that you're trying to look out for them.”
He stopped what he was doing, raising an eyebrow in question.
“Even though what you're saying doesn't seem all that kind, you must really be worried about them if you're that insistent that they need to quit,” you clarified, “I can only imagine how tired you are of seeing those white grave markers multiplying every time you go to that graveyard.”
The expression on his face remained blank after you said that, which, of course, made it hard to read just how he felt about your statement. But when he averted his gaze and took that sip of his newly poured drink, you took it to mean that you were correct.
Kishibe was pretty open, after all. If you were wrong, he would have said so. You felt certain of that.
“But maybe don't give up on them just yet,” you added, “like I said, they might surprise you.”
“….. I'll consider it.”
You smiled at that. That was as big of a win that you could get when it came to Kishibe, who no doubt had an issue of being stubborn due to age.
You really hoped those students would be able to prove him wrong.
There wasn't any more time to dwell on the matter, however, as a few more men walked in at that moment and took their seats at the bar, waiting to be served. The small moment that you had to chat with your most regular customer had come to a close, at least for now. Even if Kishibe spent a lot when he visited the bar, you would get in trouble if you ignored other customers in favor of speaking with him.
Even if this wasn't the greatest job in the world, you didn't want to face the terror of unemployment.
…. Was there such a thing as an unemployment devil? You'd need to ask Kishibe later, if you remembered.
It picked up quite a bit after that, with a more steady stream of patrons filling the seats and orders for drinks flowing in. As such, you were too busy to continue any form of conversation with Kishibe; the most words that were shared between the two of you were your affirmations when he called you over to refill his glass. And the hours would manage to pass in that way.
It was the same way it usually went. Another busy night where your feet would definitely be aching by the time you got back home.
It was near the end of your shift when Kishibe called you over to ask for his bill, settling up before he headed out for the night, presumably to wherever it was he called 'home'. The time he did so was as usual, as was the rather high bill he had racked up during the hours he'd spent chugging down drinks. He barely reacted to the high amount you had printed out for him, his face staying as blank as always as he fished out the amount needed from his wallet.
“Heading home?” you asked him.
“In a bit,” he said, “need to take care of something first.”
“I hope it's not work related; I doubt you'd be in any condition for late night devil murdering.”
“Even if it was, I'd be fine.”
You raised your eyebrows at that, but otherwise said nothing to disagree with him. If he noticed that reaction of yours, he chose not to comment on it as he handed you what he owed.
“You get off soon, don't you?” he then asked.
“Yeah, why?” you asked back absentmindedly as you placed the money in the register.
“Did you walk or drive here?”
“Oh, I usually walk,” you answered, “my place isn't too far away.”
“Will you be alright heading home by yourself at this hour?”
You smiled as you nodded at him, answering “I'll be fine. I've walked that route dozens of times and I've never had any issues. Plus, there's hardly anyone around this time of night.”
Kishibe nodded slowly once you answered, and while he spoke again just to say “that's good, then”, he said it more to himself than to you.
Shutting the register, you looked back to him as you asked “but what about you? Are you walking? I feel like it'd be dangerous if you got behind the wheel of a car right now.”
“I usually walk, too,” he told you, “both the business I need to take care of and my place are close enough.”
“I see. Well, I hope you have a good rest of your night.”
“Same to you.”
With nothing else to be said, Kishibe began to make his way out of the bar, remaining surprisingly steady as he walked to the door. You weren't sure if his tolerance for alcohol was something else, or if he was just really really good at pretending to be sober.
As he walked out, you noted the reactions of the other devil hunters as he passed them by. A majority of the ones who were still present stiffened when he did so, conversations turning quiet until he was out of earshot. Some were clearly nervous with him being so close. And then there were others who looked at him, trying to make eye contact so they could have some small bit of a good interaction in wishing him well for the night by way of a brief farewell.
Kishibe didn't pay attention to any of them, and when the door shut behind him, the visible tension in the nervous hunters lessened instantly, a collective sigh of relief hitting them.
Seeing that sort of reaction was another thing that had felt weird at first.
Despite the fact that he was constantly drinking, none of the other devil hunters regarded Kishibe as being an old drunken fool as you might have expected. Conversations would quiet down once he walked through the doors, anyone who had begun to get a little too rowdy cutting it out the moment they realized he was there. Kishibe wasn't interested in interacting with any of them, however. Once he had sat down, his only focus was on downing the many drinks he would order while he made conversation with you.
Those sorts of reactions were probably due to the respect that the other devil hunters felt for him. But it was respect mixed with something else:
Fear.
As you only ever saw Kishibe within the small space of the bar, you had no idea what he was truly like when he was out hunting devils. While you could make a guess of how strong he was based on his general aura and the way the others regarded him, you were limited to him when he was in that seat chugging down drinks like no tomorrow.
There was only time where you had gotten an inkling as to what he was capable of, and you hadn't even been around to witness it.
A while back and on a rare night where Kishibe was absent, a devil hunter who was relatively new to the job and had only recently started going to the bar with his colleagues made an impulsive decision when he was tipsy and had smacked you on the ass as you were walking by his table. The hit had been so hard and unexpected that you ended up dropping a tray full of drinks, and the glasses you'd been carrying shattered on the floor alongside the spilled liquor.
When you told the guy to get out he scoffed at you, and at that moment there wasn't much you could do other than clean up the mess while one of your coworkers got a refill for the orders that had spilled. By the time all of that was done, the group the guy had been with had left, one of the others paying for their bill while the guy snickered at you. That, along with the way your boss had berated you after for spilling the drinks despite your explanation, had caused that night to be a bad one for you. It was bad enough that it was still affecting you the next day, leaving you somber through your shift.
Kishibe noticed your mood almost immediately, and after some prying on his part, you told him what had happened. After getting the full story, his expression stayed level as it always did, and it made you sad as you thought that he didn't care about what had happened to you.
But then he asked you for a description of the man who had hit you as well as the ones who had accompanied him. That had surprised you, but you still gave him the information he wanted. Kishibe left soon after and much earlier in the night than he usually did.
Truthfully, you hadn't expected much to come from any of it. Maybe at most the bar owner would receive a letter of apology and some small bit of compensation for the spilled drinks as well as the group promising to be on better behavior. And even then, you weren't really interested in any of that. All you had really wanted was for someone to agree that the entire situation was unfair for you. Kishibe hadn't even done that, so your somber mood remained even after your shift ended.
You weren't expecting to see the guy who'd hit you so soon after that.
A few days later, shortly after you had come in, the devil hunter who had so brazenly smacked you entered the bar and gave you a formal apology, promising that he would never bother you again. The entire thing was very short, as he didn't bother making any excuses or tried to blame his actions on the alcohol. He simply apologized, left an envelope full of money as compensation for what you had dropped and then exited the bar.
Despite his apology to you, he couldn't look you in the face, and there was a distinct haunted look in his gaze as he stared at anything other than you, as though he was terrified of making direct eye contact with you.
Neither that man or the group he had been with ever entered the bar again, and when Kishibe came in that same evening, he didn't mention anything. You didn't ask about it, either. Whatever it was that he had done to get that result, you decided that you didn't want to know just in case the answer was something that would keep you up at night. Even if it wasn't something gruesome or morally questionable, it was simply easier to pretend that the incident hadn't happened.
At least those previously rowdy devil hunters were a bit more well-behaved from that point onward.
Late on the next Tuesday night, you found yourself alone as you were the last one clocking out, and therefore the one who needed to do the final clean up and shutting down of the bar. Luckily for you, Tuesdays were always slow and there was never much of a mess to take care of, so despite the late hour you were in good spirits as you exited the building, locking the door at the back while you thought of what you were going to do from here.
Your thoughts went to a new video game you had bought, having only had enough time to play a little bit before you had started your shift that day. While normally you may have felt the current time was too late for something like that, you had tomorrow off, so it didn't feel like a horrible idea to stay up late on your computer. It was very likely that all of your day off would be dedicated to playing the game.
But you were jumping too far ahead. You hadn't even gotten to tomorrow yet, you told yourself. Focus on getting home right now.
You walked along quiet streets as you did just that, at one point zipping your hoodie fully up as the chill of the night air was more uncomfortable than you were expecting. At least you wouldn't need to be out here long, though you still bemoaned the fact that you had forgotten to bring your gloves with you. The only solution you had was stuffing your hands into your pockets in an effort to keep them warm.
As was expected for how late it was, the street you were walking on was virtually abandoned. Any people that you did catch sight of could only be seen on adjacent streets that you passed, all of whom were minding their own business as they hastily made their way to wherever they needed to be. You were in the same camp as they were, and your pace increased as all you wanted in that moment was to get home where you'd be able to relax and unwind.
One walkway you passed by was particularly loud, and you caught sight of a group of businessmen who were chatting with one another. From what you could see, they had been out drinking. Socializing for work, more than likely.
So it wasn't a surprise when you rounded the corner of a turn you needed to make and you saw what at first appeared to be another businessman in the distance, moving about oddly as he walked towards you. With the distance between the two of you and the fact that you had only spared him a brief glance at first, you assumed that he was one with that group, making his way back for one reason or another.
But as the person was walking in your direction, you were compelled to look up at him as he came closer.
It wasn't a businessman at all.
And as the picture before you became clearer as the person continued walking towards you, your pace slowed before you came to a stop as recognition turned to confusion upon realizing just who it was on the path before you.
Your most loyal regular at the bar, Kishibe, was out on the sidewalk by himself. His height, hair and the scar on his face made it easy to identify him. That he was out at night wasn't much of a surprise, but what made you confused was the fact that he was stumbling, barely able to keep himself upright as he went forward. The only explanation for him to move in such a way was that he was drunk.
You were in disbelief. How was that even possible? You'd seen that man consume enough alcohol that it should've been fatal and it had never affected him, yet now he wasn't even able to walk in a straight line – just how fucking much did he have to drink to get that way?
When he nearly fell to the pavement was when you snapped out of your stupor.
Holy fuck
“Kishibe!”
You ran over to where he was leaning against an adjacent wall, lightly placing your hand on his back as a way to help steady him while you asked “are you alright?”
He turned his head to look at you, and after a moment, he shook his head.
“Let me lean on you,” he mumbled.
Taking hold of one of his arms, you did your best to keep him standing as he got his feet firmly beneath him.
“Do you need to go to the hospital? I can call an ambulance,” you said.
“Hospital? No,” he answered, “just get me back to my apartment.”
“I don't know where that is.”
By that point he had his arm over your shoulder, though he was swaying far more than you were comfortable with. Still shaken by how he had nearly fallen moments ago and worried that he could still end up tumbling onto the pavement, you ended up grabbing ahold of his waist in an attempt to keep him steady. Although if he was really going to fall, you had a bad feeling that he would just end up taking you down with him.
You really hoped that wouldn't happen; ending your night by having one or both of you getting a concussion was something you wanted to avoid.
Kishibe had reached a hand into his pocket and had pulled out his cellphone, his fingers seemingly not cooperating when he attempted to put in his passcode. After a few failed attempts at unlocking it, the screen turned brighter as he got in and within a few moments, he had typed in an address and held it in front you.
Your mind blanked before you took the phone from him with an “okay.”
Looking at the screen, you found that the location put in was only fifteen minutes away from where you currently stood. That wasn't too bad, but as you glanced over again to Kishibe and the state he was in, you worried that the short walk would be too much for him right now. If he lost his balance again you didn't think you had the strength to keep him up on your own, and if he passed out there was no way you'd be able to drag him to his apartment. Plus if he hurt himself you'd probably need to call an ambulance, which would be a whole other mess that would likely see you waiting in the hospital for hours.
“Are you sure you want to walk there? With how you're doing right now, I think it might be better if we call a ride for you,” you told him.
“No.”
“But the idea of you walking seems dangerous.”
“You really think anyone will let me into their car with how I am now?” he countered.
Ah. That was true. Kishibe was only still standing up right now because you were supporting him. And not only was he unsteady, but he also reeked of alcohol. Any driver would see him and refuse to let him in out of fear that they'd need to clean his vomit out of their car afterwards.
So the only option was to walk him back?
….. This sucks.
It was late, you'd been on your feet for hours, your fingers were still numb from the cold and you were tired. You'd been looking forward to your plans for when you got back and yet you needed to be the one to deal with this?
Despite saying none of that out loud, Kishibe seemed perceptive to what you were thinking as he said “I know it's inconvenient, but I'd appreciate it if you would help me out.”
“…..”
…. Well now you felt like an asshole.
Kishibe needed help and you were trying to get out of it, and now he was aware that you were trying to get out of it. The fact that he needed to push to get you to help him wasn't good at all. And all of it was just so you could go home and play a video game?
Why were you like this?
With that, you forced a smile onto your face as you said “of course. It's only a short walk, right?”
He nodded.
Readjusting the hold you had on him, you kept the smile on your face as you continued with “plus, maybe the walking will help you feel better.”
“Maybe.”
As the you began to walk him back, heading in the direction that was directly opposite of your apartment, you told yourself that this could always be worse. Kishibe wasn't being loud or aggressive, which you appreciated. While you were stuck with his arm around you and the pace at which you traveled was painfully slow, it would have been a lot worse if he'd insisted that you help him while also being belligerent about it.
At least he was a pretty chill drunk, even if the way he wobbled in your grip still made your stress levels rise every time it felt like he was about to lose his balance.
“If you need to stop to rest a little, we can do that. Just let me know, okay?”
He nodded after you told him that, but with the vacant stare in his eye, you wondered how much he had really heard.
Oh well.
As the two of you went by the path you had passed previously which was full of the businessmen, you found that it was empty now. Either they were getting more drinks somewhere else or they were going home. Though as you took one last glance in that general area, you caught sight of a tiny bit of movement at the base of the building, your eyebrows furrowing until you realized what you were looking at.
“Gross,” you commented.
“Hm?”
“Cockroach.”
Kishibe hummed in response.
“I'm surprised it's still alive in this weather,” you said, “I would've thought the cold would have gotten to it.”
“They're good at finding ways to survive.”
It was good that he was speaking to you. As you were still worried at the thought of him passing out while in the middle of the way home, you figured that continuing to speak would probably be best; whatever you could think of as long as he stayed lucid enough to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
With the sight of the bug from moments ago, at least there was an easy topic of conversation to have.
“Is there a cockroach devil?” you asked.
He closed his eyes as he nodded slowly.
“We don't have control of it, though,” he then told you.
“Good thing I'm not afraid of cockroaches, then. Wouldn't want to make your enemies stronger,” you said.
You paused as you readjusted the grip you had around his waist before you added “I am pretty scared of spiders, though. Is that an issue?”
“Public Safety has control of the spider devil. If anything, I would encourage you to be more afraid of spiders. That way she'll be stronger,” answered Kishibe.
“Okay,” you answered, laughing a little as you said “though maybe I don't want to be too afraid of them. It'd be a different kind of issue if she became too tough and decided to run off to do her own thing, right?”
He shook his head.
“That's impossible.”
“Why's that?”
“Because if she tried that, I'd hunt her down and take her out,” he said simply.
“You're sure you'd be successful with that?” you asked.
“Of course. I'm the strongest devil hunter there is,” Kishibe told you.
“That might be true,” you said, “but if a devil were to come for you as you are right now, I'm worried you wouldn't be able to do much.”
“I'd handle it.”
“…. You can't even walk on your own.”
“I'd handle it,” he insisted.
Despite his tone, you were skeptical. After all, you were the only one keeping him upright at that moment. Still, it was better to let it go. Just treat it like you're at work, you told yourself. Work that you wouldn't be getting paid for, but work nonetheless. Even though this wasn't the way you wanted your night to end, reminding yourself that you had the day off tomorrow helped in making you feel better about it.
Walking to Kishibe's apartment took about an extra eight minutes due to his slow pace, and there was only so much you could do to get him to move faster while still being polite about it. If only you had the strength to pick him up and carry him, it could've gone so much faster.
At the very least it would have made for a funny scene, at least from an outsider's perspective.
You did your best to stay positive, and you continued to ask him questions as a way to make sure he was still conscious as you escorted him back home. Though after your conversation about the spider devil, Kishibe only answered in grunts or hums, but at least he was still able to answer you. That was a good thing, at least. As long as he was conscious and able to continue walking, that was good.
When you caught sight of Kishibe's apartment building and noted the tall flights of stairs that decorated the sides, you frowned. And when you asked him which floor you needed to get him too, you groaned internally when he answered that his unit was on the fourth floor.
Of course you needed to get him up several flights of stairs.
You didn't want to think about just how long it took the two of you to get up the stairs, nor did you want to think about the times you needed to help him lift up his own feet so he could ascend those stairs with you. By the time you reached the door of his unit, you felt well and truly exhausted from the ordeal, and you wanted nothing more than for him to unlock the door and go inside so you could go back home.
Except Kishibe handed you the key to his door.
Of course it couldn't be that simple.
You couldn't even get him to go in on his own, as when you turned the handle and opened the door to his unit, his weight suddenly bore down on you, pushing you into the darkened apartment with him following after and only managing to regain his footing once he was inside. Even then he stumbled backwards after, his arm hitting the open door and forcing it back shut when he fell against it.
“Are you okay?!”
All you heard in response to your worried question was a grunt that seemed like he was trying to indicate 'yes', which lessened your panic a little, though it'd be nicer to be able to see him. In the pitch dark of the apartment, you reached for a nearby wall as you searched for a light switch. After several moments of blindly pressing your hand all over the surface of the wall, you found it, and you needed to shut your eyes once the overhead light turned on as you needed to adjust to the sudden brightness.
Once you were able to see, what greeted you was what appeared to be a sparsely decorated apartment that only seemed rather ominous as the rest of the lights within the space had also been left off. From what you were able to see in your current position, you caught sight of a darkened living room area, and beyond that, a sliding door that opened up to small balcony. There was a couch in the living room, right? You could just leave him there, couldn't you?
Please let me leave now, you silently begged.
“Could you get me to the bedroom?”
Despite how he mumbled his words, you heard him clearly. Looking back to where you'd left him, you were dismayed to find that he was still drunk out of his mind. He still had his back leaning against the surface of the door, and it seemed that was all that was keeping him upright. With the way he was blocking the way out, it meant you'd need to move him, and more than likely you'd need to escort him further, this time to his bedroom.
Once you saw him at your next shift at the bar, you'd need to ask what exactly he'd done to get himself that fucked up. That, or maybe he could just give you a really nice tip for all of the effort spent getting him home safe.
But you made yourself smile at him as you said “sure. Just hang on for a second, okay? I'm gonna turn on some lights so the two of us aren't stumbling around in the dark. I'll be right back.”
A pair of hazy looking dark eyes glanced in your direction after you spoke, and he nodded in understanding. With that, you placed both his phone and the keys to the apartment on a small table that sat in the small hallway before slipping off your shoes and making your way further into his unit. It took a few tries, more than a few moments of turning on light switches before you hastily turned them off once you saw that you had entered a room that you didn't need, but not long after you found what you were looking for: the bed Kishibe needed to pass out on top of.
The bedroom matched the apartment in that it looked rather plain, almost like Kishibe didn't spend a lot of time here. It made sense; with how much he must have on his plate as a devil hunter he probably didn't have the time to decorate his living space. He just needed some place where he could eat, clean himself and then sleep soundly at the end of each day before he returned to his work.
The queen sized bed did look – and feel – rather nice, you felt compelled to note. He must have spent a lot on that to have a good night's sleep.
With your goal of finding where you needed to take him achieved, you returned to the main hallway to retrieve Kishibe. He was where you left him, once more looking dazed as he stared down at the floor beneath his feet. Your gaze traveled down as well, and when you saw the tied up laces of his shoes, you came to a realization.
“Are you going to be able to untie those?” you asked, pointing down at them.
“Probably not.”
At this point you weren't able to be annoyed; it wasn't entirely unexpected given his current state. Just another thing you needed to take care of for him, but at least it wouldn't be as difficult as helping him stumble his way up the stairs.
Do a few things more to help him and then you can go home.
Kneeling down on the surface of the entryway, you reached for the laces of one of his shoes. He didn't say anything as you undid the knots. When you asked him to lift his foot up once they were loosened, he did as you told him and you pulled the shoe off of him, placing it down and out of the way before repeating the process with the other. Again, he said nothing, but you felt those blank brown eyes staring down at you the entire time.
After getting his shoes off, you gently grabbed him by his shoulder and moved him away from the door. Immediately he was back to leaning on you, this time with his nose in your hair. You could feel his breath on your head, followed by the sound of his voice as he let out a content hum.
This was so fucking awkward. He definitely owed you after this.
“Kishibe,” you began, “just a little more walking and then you can rest, okay?”
He grunted again as you once again led him while his weight bore down on you.
With his face still in your hair, you heard the moment when, in the middle of making your way to the bedroom, he inhaled deeply. The sound of that and the feeling forced you to come to a stop.
And after letting out a short breath, you continued to walk with him.
He's drunk, you told yourself. Extremely shit-faced, over the top blackout drunk. He probably wouldn't remember any of this come tomorrow, and while you weren't enjoying this, it'd be better to keep your relationship with him positive. You didn't need to mention any of the creepy parts; just how much you had done to help him.
He'd better be appreciative.
A feeling relief washed over you when you finally got him into the bedroom, the bed only a few feet away.
Pulling forward, you saw this as the final hurdle. Just get him onto the bed. That was all you needed to do, and then you could go home and collapse onto your own not-as-comfortable mattress that had been all you could afford.
You tried to move him so he would lay down on his back, and then you could gently let him go. You didn't really want to bother trying to get him actually into the bed; that seemed like it would take even more time and would be even more of a hassle. No, just getting him on there was enough.
“Alright, here we go.”
Kishibe was supposed to let go as you maneuvered him in front of you. Once he felt the edge of the mattress against the back of his legs, he should've understood that he was safe to fall backwards and that he needed to let you go.
But the arm he had wrapped around your back stayed in place, and when gravity finally won the battle and began to pull him down, you were brought down with him.
A short cry escaped your lips as you ended up on the bed with him, pressed tightly to his chest with your lower half hanging off the mattress.
Goddammit
“I'm sorry,” you began, “I didn't mean for that to happen.”
“Hm.”
You weren't sure of what to make of the way he hummed when you said that, largely because all you wanted in that moment was to get off of him. Bracing your arm on the mattress, you pushed your weight onto it as you tried to get off of him and escape the awkward situation.
Only the arm he had around you wasn't budging.
When a few moments passed with you desperately trying to leave the bed only to have your efforts thwarted by the surprisingly strong grip he had on you, you looked back to him as you asked “Kishibe, could you let me go? I can't get up.”
“Why do you want to get up?” he asked.
“Um, because I need to go home?” you said, surprised that you even needed to clarify that.
“It's late; you should spend the night here.”
“That's okay. I'm sure your couch is comfortable, but I'd really rather sleep in my own bed,” you told him.
“Who said anything about you sleeping on the couch?”
His question made you blink.
“I…. Where else would I…..”
Your question trailed off as you glanced at the mattress you were currently on top of, and a sick feeling began to form in your stomach. A feeling that grew stronger with every moment that passed with his arm still wrapped around you.
“Kishibe, please let go of me,” you said.
“Why?”
“Because I don't like this and I want to go home.”
Again you tried to pull yourself up, and again, Kishibe kept you pressed to his chest.
“Please,” you said again, “I don't want to spend the night-”
You were cut off when you felt his other hand move. Instead of joining the one wrapped around your back, his free hand went down to cup your ass as he blatantly groped you.
Shock and revulsion shot through you and when you struggled again against the grip he had on you, it was with far more force and desperation.
“Let go of me,” you said, “now!”
Again, he only hummed in response.
But that time he actually did let you go, removing his arms and letting them fall to the mattress.
You pulled off immediately, getting to your feet and taking a few steps back in record time, breathing heavily as the brief burst of adrenaline was still running through you. Kishibe remained splayed out on the bed with his legs still hanging off the side. He was still staring at you, however.
After taking in another deep breath, you spoke.
“Rest up and get sober,” you began, “and then when we see each other next, I'd appreciate it if you could come to the bar with an apology.”
You then turned and walked out the door, deciding to leave it at that. Though you noted to yourself that he may very well not remember what you had said or what had happened. As you had told yourself earlier, he was drunk. But even then you didn't intend to back down on this. Even if he didn't remember, at the very least you deserved some form of the word 'sorry' for how he had held you down and tried to coerce you into sleeping with him. Regardless of if his actions were caused by the alcohol, you needed that after he had ignored you the first few times you had told him to let you go.
As long as you could get that, you'd be happy to go back to how your relationship was before, with him as a customer and with the solid surface of the bar separating the two of you.
Returning to the entryway, you quickly collected your shoes and slipped them back on before you prepared yourself for the walk back home. It was late, but you'd probably be okay as long as you hurried back. You probably didn't have the energy for your game, as you'd thought before, so it'd be straight to bed for you once you returned.
As long as you could get a good night's sleep, that was enough.
With that thought in mind, you stood before the front door as you reached for the handle, turned and then pulled it.
The door didn't budge.
“Huh?”
You tried again, turning it again and pulling, just to have the same thing happen.
Maybe I'm turning the handle wrong, you briefly thought, only for your brows to furrow when your attempts to turn the handle upwards resulted in nothing. That wasn't right. Clearly the way you had been trying was correct.
So why wasn't the door opening?
Taking your gaze away from the handle, you noticed something that you had missed earlier: in place of a bolt or a chain on the upper part of the door, there was instead a lock which required a key to open it. Was that really what was keeping you in here?
… It's okay, you told yourself. You left the keys on the table right behind you. One of those would open it.
Your attempts to quell the bad feeling brewing within you were unsuccessful, as when you turned to reach for the keys that you had placed only minutes earlier, you found that they were gone.
….. Were they still there when you had gone back to get Kishibe after turning on the lights? You couldn't remember.
Speaking of Kishibe, he would be the reason why they were gone, right? Thinking back to when you had been searching for the bedroom, that would have given him more than enough time to take the keys and then lock the door. When else would he have been able to do that?
But why would he do that?
“What exactly am I supposed to apologize for?”
Hearing his voice made you jump, and you turned your gaze towards where Kishibe had emerged from as he strolled out into the hallway at a leisurely pace, ending with him leaning against the wall. His large black coat was gone, leaving him clad in his white shirt, black pants and his tie that he had loosened during the time that you had left him alone. In one hand he held his flask, and he unscrewed it to take a long gulp of whatever was in there before he looked back to you, those same blank eyes staring straight at you as he waited for an answer to his question.
He didn't seem quite so inebriated now. He was walking just fine and his gaze was zeroed in on you.
“…. Kishibe, why is the door locked?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing as you stood still within the entryway.
“Because I locked it,” he answered plainly.
“Wh-why?”
“Because I don't want you going out.”
The veteran hunter took another swig from his flask before adding “it's dangerous out there, especially at night. You're much safer inside with me.”
“That's….. That's nice, but I'd really rather go home,” you said.
“Why? Is your cheap apartment really that great?”
His comment made you blink in surprise – you'd never mentioned it, so how in the world did he know anything about your apartment?
“I'd feel a lot more comfortable if I could go back there, yeah,” you told him, “so could you please unlock the door? I don't want to be here any longer.”
Kishibe hummed.
“That's too bad. Because I've decided that you'll be staying here from now on,” he declared.
“….. You can't do that.”
“I just did.”
Kishibe stood to his full height, and that was enough to make you back away until you found yourself pressed against the door, holding your hands to your chest as your heart rate increased. What was happening? Why was this happening? He seemed fine now, despite the state he'd been in – had all of that been a ruse just to get you into his apartment?
Why?
“I don't understand.”
Your words came out hushed, barely able to come out around the blockage in your throat.
“You don't? I would've thought understanding it would be pretty simple,” he said.
He stepped forward, closing the distance between you swiftly and with ease as he told you “you're not leaving. I'm keeping you here so you'll be safe.”
“Safe? From what?”
“Everything.”
Kishibe was standing directly before you now, looming over you as he continued with “humans, devils and whatever else; you won't need to fear them anymore. Nothing will come for you as long as you have me.”
He reached a hand up in a move that looked as though he intended to cup your cheek as he said “all I ask in return is that you do as I say.”
The rough skin of his hands made contact with your cheek as you said nothing in response.
You needed this to be a joke.
You needed to him to take a few more moments for comedic effect before he revealed that he wasn't being serious, be that in the form of the words “just kidding” or “gotcha” or something that told you that the reality of the situation wasn't what you thought it was. Even though this entire scenario was completely abnormal for Kishibe, a man who always seemed serious, you needed him to tell you that it was just a fucked up prank, that he just wanted to mess with you.
It didn't feel in line with the man you had grown to know, but you needed that to be the case.
Except Kishibe never said such a thing to you, instead keeping his hand on your cheek and softly rubbing against your skin, his calloused touch feeling surprisingly gentle.
His thumb then moved across your bottom lip and that sent a jolt down your spine.
You pushed his hand away as you said “this isn't funny.”
“It's not supposed to be,” he told you.
You shook your head.
“You're being weird and you're playing a prank or something stupid like that, but I don't like this and I want to leave.”
Kishibe only hummed at that, which only left you feeling worse.
“Stop this, please,” you said, desperation tinting your voice as you said “the joke has gone on long enough and I want you to let me out.”
But he still didn't say anything further. All he did was stare down at you with a look on his face that you couldn't read while his presence was quickly becoming overwhelming.
Seconds were ticking by and nothing was happening. Kishibe was still standing over you. He wasn't backing away like you wanted. He wasn't agreeing with your assessment that this entire thing was a joke, like you wanted. And he wasn't producing the key and letting you out of what had become a deeply uncomfortable and unsettling scene with him.
The longer it went on, the harder it became for you to breathe, all the while the sick feeling that surrounded you only grew more intense as you were slowly forced to accept the reality of the situation:
He wasn't joking.
And you were helpless.
How long of a period had passed before he spoke again, you had no idea. Too wrapped up in your thoughts and growing fear, it easily could have been minutes or seconds. But you were snapped out of your thoughts instantly when you heard his low voice once more.
“You didn't answer my question earlier: what am I supposed to apologize for?” he asked again.
“For…… For touching me. Grabbing me like you did in the bedroom,” you hesitantly answered.
“I don't see why I should apologize for that.”
Kishibe tilted his head slightly as he continued with “you belong to me now. Why shouldn't I be able to do whatever I want with you?”
His words settled in your mind, your pulse beating rapidly as your mind raced.
Then you screamed.
As loud and as hard as your vocal chords were capable of, you screamed for help as he continued to loom over you. It wasn't brave or noble, but there was nothing else you could do to fight him off. You were too weak for anything like that.
Screaming was all you could do.
The screams for help that tore out of your throat come out with such ferocity that you managed to be surprised initially. Never in your life could you remember the volume of your own voice reaching such levels, but you'd also never been in a situation like this one. You turned away from him in order to pound at the door as you continue to call for help, hoping that the extra noise will help to get someone's attention – be it of one of his neighbors or a passerby on the street – just as long as it's someone who'll call the police. If you can just get one person to inform the authorities that something's wrong, then you'll get out of this.
Just one person with a phone and an idea of where you were. And maybe, just maybe, a group of well-intentioned people who might be brave enough to burst down the door to get to you. Even if Kishibe was strong, he could only take so many opponents at once, right?
Your throat was aching and the way you slammed your hand against the door was became weaker as the pain that shot through your hand was beginning to become too much, but you kept up with it. You needed help. You needed someone to know what was happening before Kishibe shut you up.
…. Before he shut you up?
It hit you then: through all that time of you desperately making a racket and being as loud as possible, Kishibe hadn't once made any effort to keep you quiet.
He still wasn't.
With tears still rolling down your cheeks and your hand still balled up in a fist on the door, the cries that had so forcefully come from your mouth came to an end as you glanced back at him.
He was taking another swig from that flask. Completely at ease and unbothered at your desperate attempt to seek help. You watched in disbelief as his Adam's apple bobbed as the harsh liquor ran down his throat before he pulled the flask away from his lips, just as leisurely screwing the cap back on before the metal container once again disappeared into his pocket.
Kishibe looked at you.
Then he glanced up at the ceiling.
You followed his gaze, and while you didn't see anything odd with the plain white surface above you two, you noticed that something was amiss:
Someone above you was blasting music loud enough that you could almost make out the lyrics of the song that was playing.
…. It hadn't been that way when you first entered the apartment. Nor had it been the case when you had first tried to leave. You would have heard that, would have noted something like that immediately. Which only meant…..
The realization sank in as you looked up to the ceiling in horror, coming to the conclusion that in the middle of your screaming and banging, the person directly above you had heard, and made the decision to play the loud music in an attempt to drown you out so they didn't need to listen anymore.
They didn't want to help you.
“It doesn't sound like they're going to do anything,” Kishibe said to you, drawing your attention back to him.
“Doesn't seem like anyone else is going to bother, either,” he added, reaching back up with his hand so he could place it on the door by your head as he leaned in closer.
“You're alone in this.”
The cold words he spoke sent a shudder through you, and you shook your head as if denying what he had just told you would somehow change the way things were going.
“Why?” you asked, your voice wavering as you continued “why won't anyone help me?”
“Because nothing bad is happening to them, so they don't care,” he answered plainly, “maybe if they knew you, it might bother them. But bad things happen to complete strangers everyday; just because this time it's a bit closer in proximity doesn't make them care any more or any less.”
His other hand reached up to play with your hair, almost absentmindedly running his fingers through the strands as he continued to speak.
“As long as they're in the clear at the end of the day, that's all that matters to them,” he said.
“That's…. That's not true,” you sniffled, “someone out there wants to help me. They need to.”
Kishibe shrugged.
“Maybe some would,” he said, “but clearly those people aren't in earshot right now.”
The callousness of his words sent your emotions into a frenzy once again. Tears began running down your cheeks again while you sobbed. Only you weren't screaming this time, nor were you banging against the door. What was the point? If no one would help you even after hearing that, then why bother?
All you could do was cry about it like the pathetic weakling you were.
With your forehead pressed against the door, you weren't able to see any of what Kishibe was doing. You knew he was still behind you – it was hard to ignore how closely he was looming over you – but he had yet to do anything to you.
Would he even do anything?
As soon as you thought that, you remembered how he had groped you in the bedroom, how he had held you down against him even when you told him to let you go. In that same moment, you felt one of his hands around your waist and his fingers slipping beneath the layers of your hoodie and shirt so he could caress your skin directly. His other hand found its way to your jaw so he could direct your attention towards him once again.
Of course he'd do something further. Why had you even considered that he might not?
The blank brown eyes you had grown to know met yours, and despite the futility of the situation, you still made yourself put out one last plea. Even if he was odd, he was still human at the end of the day, and therefore, he needed to have some sort of empathy, right?
“I won't go to the police – I won't say anything about this to anyone,” you told him, “so please, reconsider.”
“No.”
His answer to your request was swift; he didn't think twice about it nor was he moved in any way.
Kishibe had made up his mind and there was no changing it.
Just as swiftly as his answer, he then angled your jaw upward so he could claim your lips in a kiss.
The taste on his tongue was harsh, a cocktail of the liquor he'd consumed over the course of the evening. The strongest remnant of alcohol that flooded your senses was most likely whatever he had just gulped down from his flask. The stubble around his lips brushed against your skin and the sensation made you jump, though with the hand he still had on your jaw, you again were unable to escape his grasp. There was nowhere for you to go; he had you pressed firmly between the front door and himself. The only bit of freedom he allowed you were the ways in which you trembled beneath his grasp, how you shook and shivered while his free hand continued to caress the skin beneath your shirt.
The whimpers you made in response to his touch were swallowed up by his mouth as he prolonged what was certainly a show of mockery for an action that was meant to be tender.
Did he really need to torment you in this way?
When he pulled away from the kiss he did so with a clear plan in mind, as his hands immediately went to the zipper of your hoodie and forced it down before pulling the entire piece of clothing off of you, taking your bag with it. Both items were tossed behind him and he quickly placed his hands on you once again, moving them all over as he explored your body through your clothes. Even through your clothing at acted as a sort of barrier, the feeling of his calloused palms stroking up your sides and down your spine were enough to make you jolt in place and force whimpers out of your mouth.
He moved in closer, pressing up directly behind you which allowed you to feel the growing bulge in his pants.
When he shifted his focus in order to grope your breasts through the material of your shirt, you placed your head so it was pressed against the door again, still sobbing. All you wanted in that moment was to become one with the door; merge into it so he couldn't do this to you anymore. You didn't care what happened to you, just as long as this would stop.
Instead of that mercy, Kishibe continued to toy with your chest. Then he began to speak.
“I'm a bit surprised you let it get as far as what happened in the bedroom,” he told you, “you really had no issue going into a man's apartment that you'd never been to before? There was nothing that raised any alarm for you until I had you on top of me?”
You whimpered.
“You're too naive; that's why you won't be leaving. If I don't step in you'll get yourself killed.”
His thumb and pointer finger found your nipple through your clothes, and when he began to focus on that by pinching it between his fingers, a strangled noise emerged from your throat.
Kishibe felt the need to comment on that.
“Do you like being played with from behind? You're more responsive to this than I was expecting,” he said.
“N-no….”
Your shirt remained as it was only for a few more moments before he decided that he wanted to feel your bare skin, resulting in him ripping your shirt down the neckline and pulling your bra down with it. With skin now on skin, it was instantly noticeable when the shrieks that left your mouth as his fingers tweaked your nipples sounded less horrified and more wanton.
“You really do like this,” Kishibe said, a hint of pleasure in his voice.
“No,” you said again.
Instead of acknowledging your denial, his hot breath hit your ear as he said “I was thinking it'd probably take a little bit to get you wet enough so fucking you would be a bit more comfortable, but I probably don't need to wait all that long, do I? If those noises of yours are any indication, I bet I could slide into you right now.”
“No!”
Even with you raising your voice, he still wasn't listening.
His hands crept around your waist again before they found the zipper of your pants. The sound of it zipping open seemed loud within the space of your head, but it didn't compare to the feeling of his thumbs slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear before he shoved your panties down past your thighs, taking your pants with them.
With your most intimate area now exposed, you shuddered as the chill air attacked your flesh. When Kishibe began to palm and knead your ass, you whimpered. Your lower half was then pulled away from the door and he moved his knee between your thighs so he could spread your legs wider. You could feel how heavy his gaze was on your cunt. Heat filled your cheeks while you bit down on your lip, the tears that were still flowing now a bit more angry.
It was humiliating. He had you pressed against the surface of the door, your palms laying flat against it while your ass was sticking out. You didn't want to merge with the door anymore; you wanted to curl up and die.
But even that wasn't an option for you.
A pair of thick fingers found their way to your cunt, caressing your folds in a way that felt experimental before his middle finger slipped between them, the tip shallowly ghosting along your heated entrance which caused you to shudder. The wetness that was beginning to drip out of you easily coated his fingertip, much to his amusement.
“Thought so,” he said.
“No.”
It wasn't true. You weren't enjoying this; just because he forced such a reaction out of you didn't mean that you wanted it. He knew that but he was just insisting on being as horrible as possible. How could you have not realized what he was really like until now?
“Hard to argue when I have the evidence smeared on my fingers, don't you think?” Kishibe asked you. He pushed his digits into your folds for emphasis, and the squelching sounds of him dipping into your wet heat only made you more ashamed. His free hand then returned to your chest while he fingered your cunt.
His fingers were sliding along your walls easier than you would have liked, and the feeling of his blunt nails inside of you as he stretched you out caused several shudders to run through your body, becoming intense enough that you needed to bite down hard on your lip to try and keep down the shameful whining noises that wanted to emerge because of it.
He must have noticed the way you were trying to keep it in as he way he was fingering you suddenly became rougher, with him curling his fingers while searching for the sensitive spots inside of you. He moved in closer as well, breathing huskily into your ear as he spoke to you.
“I wish I'd done this sooner,” Kishibe whispered, “if I had known how eager you would be for me, I wouldn't have wasted so much time before.”
No insults or retorts left your mouth that time; you were too busy trying to be as quiet as possible as all you could focus on was the awful affect he was having on you while his fingers continued to slide in and out. He was being rougher now because he wanted to humiliate you even more – that was the only explanation. To have you moan like you were enjoying this as a way to torment you further. As if the way your wetness was dripping down the inside of your thighs wasn't enough, turning cold once it hit the open air and sending more shudders running through you.
When his other hand came down to toy with your clit, you ended up biting your lip hard enough to draw blood. You hated how it felt good. How the feeling of his fingers rubbing hard circles against that nub had your legs shaking and your insides burning. Kishibe intended for you to cum on his fingers, and you hated that he would more than likely be successful in that goal.
Why aren't you stopping him?
…..It hit you that you hadn't really tried much to get away from him. Aside from the way you ordered him to let go and how you pushed his hand away, there was very little in terms of actual resistance on your part.
But what could you even do? How would a civilian fight off an expert devil hunter?
Even though you couldn't imagine any scenario where you on your own managed to get away from him, maybe the way you had done nothing other than cry through your assault had been enough to reaffirm in his mind that you needed to be kept away from the world. For your safety, he said.
You wondered if he was actually delusional enough to believe that excuse.
That train of thought was derailed completely when you felt Kishibe's fingers brush against a spot within you in tandem with the fingers on your clit, and your vision whited out as he forced out the reaction he'd been looking for.
You came on his fingers.
Your face and ears were burning and you could taste iron from your bleeding lip as you tried your hardest to keep in those awful moans.
Mercifully, he didn't continue fingering you when you came. Instead he seemed to savor the way you were clenching down around him as you heard him let out a breathy sigh into your ear. When you had finished, he stayed like that, his chest pressed against your back and the fingers on your clit giving you one last stroke before he pulled away.
After another moment, he pulled his fingers out of you, his hands finally leaving those sensitive, intimate areas. A new wave of anxiety washed over you as you had a horrible idea of what was going to follow.
You heard his belt being undone. And then his zipper, which was hastily followed by the sound of his pants being shoved down.
And then his hands were back around your waist, pulling you back into the position he had forced you into earlier that you had unconsciously moved from as your body unintentionally moved back to press against the door, still trying to escape him even though you knew there was no point.
He spread open the lips of your pussy, guiding his cock to your entrance after. Your breath hitched when you felt him rub the tip against your folds, gathering up your wetness on the end of his length just as he'd done with his fingers earlier.
He shoved himself in.
And once he was inside of you, he only took a brief moment to savor it, letting out a small sigh of contentment as he finally got to experience the feeling of the walls of your cunt clamping down on his dick.
“Good girl,” Kishibe mumbled.
Your heart was in your throat, however, as despite knowing where things would be heading once he had begun kissing and groping you earlier, the feeling of his dick being sheathed halfway into you just cemented that this was real: he'd locked you in his apartment and claimed you as his own. And if he continued to get his way from this point, then this would be the rest of your life, one spent as a plaything to Kishibe's whims.
Only for a moment was that thought able to run through your head, however, because soon after he began to fuck you in earnest. Despite your successful resistance before, you weren't able to keep quiet once you felt him moving against you, his cock plugging up your hole again and again as his hips thrust hard against your ass. The sobs that were mixed with your moans bounced against the surface of the door, filling up the small, empty space of the entryway.
If only you were loud enough to drown out the noises Kishibe was making.
For a man who was normally so quiet, there was no attempt on his part to keep in his own groans and grunts. Still positioned with his mouth by your ear as he kept you close to him, you heard everything. His own harsh breathing mixed with small curses that left his lips in time with the cock that was slamming into you. Swears that were changed out for praise of you when his fingers returned to your clit to stimulate you further, causing your sensitive walls to quiver around him.
The words “good girl” were said to you many times during that period.
Your back quickly became sticky with sweat, your own body heat combined with that of Kishibe making it get to the point that it was becoming too much. The feeling of cold from when you had been outside was forgotten as it felt like every part of you was burning up while his body was engulfing your own as he used you to chase his pleasure. You wanted him away from you, just a little bit.
With a shaking hand, you pressed it against his chest as best you could with the awkward position, silently trying to communicate that want of yours.
Kishibe grabbed your wrist and forced it back against the doorway, keeping his hand gripped firmly around your arm and refusing to let go even when you tried to wiggle out of it. Eventually you were forced to give up on getting what you wanted.
Just like everything else tonight.
With the brute strength he was displaying as he pounded into your pussy and how sensitive you still were from your previous orgasm, you found yourself cumming much faster the second time. Your pussy walls clenched hard around him once again, but this time Kishibe made the choice to fuck you through it.
That only prolonged your orgasm, and the longer it went on, the more strained your moans became as your throat was thoroughly raw by that point.
Once your pleasure faded, you were left waiting for Kishibe to finish. Something you didn't need to wait long for as soon enough you felt him stiffen within you, and then his swollen cock erupted, long white streams of cum painting your insides as he kept himself pressed close, wanting to be as deep within you as possible. He groaned loudly as he did so, and his hand returned to your breast to knead the soft flesh once more as his own orgasm began to ebb away, his cock still twitching in the aftermath.
The entryway was now filled with the breathless gasps of the both of you and the scent of sweat and sex.
Once his cock had softened, Kishibe released the grip he had on you and pulled his dick out of your pussy, and finally, he stepped away from you.
Immediately you slumped down, exhausted, your front half still pressed against the door while you sat in the entryway, your pants still around your ankles and Kishibe's cum and your own release dripping down your thighs and onto the floor beneath you. You still had tears to shed, apparently, as the sight had you going back to sobbing. Your throat hurt and your nose was stuffy, but all you could think about was how you wished you hadn't made the choice to help Kishibe earlier.
If only you had decided to go with your own selfish instincts, you wouldn't be here right now. By now you probably would've been asleep, safe and sound in your own bed in your own apartment, and the only danger you would be facing would be the possibility of your next door neighbor's children running wild again and slamming doors so hard that the walls would shake.
Being reminded of your day off that you had planned out had you crying harder as you realized you couldn't ever go back to days like that.
God how you wished you could redo your actions from tonight.
You were reminded of Kishibe's presence when you felt his hand run down your back, his knuckles grazing you lightly and with a touch so soft that it felt out of place when you thought of what you had just experienced at his hands.
He wasn't trying to comfort you, was he?
With robotic movements, you turned your head once again so you could see him, see the face of the man who had hurt you so horribly. Unsurprisingly, there was no real emotion to be gleaned from his expression as it was as blank as it always was. Though when you looked at his eyes, you found that there was a hint of something there. Something more intense and obsessive than you had ever witnessed from anyone, much less Kishibe.
“You did good,” he told you.
“Fuck you,” you weakly hissed in response.
“Mm, not right now. Maybe in the morning.”
He moved his hand to your upper arm, squeezing you in what seemed to be an encouraging manner as he said “it's late now. We should get some rest.”
“Can you walk, or should I carry you?” Kishibe then asked.
You didn't respond. Instead you shrugged off his hand and turned your head to face the door, not wanting to look at him any longer.
“Alright then.”
Within a moment, you were scooped up off of the floor and into his arms with surprising ease, and while you were feeling disoriented from the way you were moved about like that, Kishibe had turned and walked away from the door with you held firmly against his chest.
It shouldn't have been too much of a shock that it was this easy for him to pick you up, and yet…..
“You could have just forcibly taken me if you wanted,” you mumbled.
“I could have,” he said.
The way he so readily agreed with you turned your emotions to anger once again.
“So why bother with all that bullshit?” you snapped.
“Because I thought the way you doted on me was nice,” Kishibe said.
“You're a scumbag.”
“Hm.”
Kishibe neither agreed nor disagreed with you, as he stepped into the bedroom with you, taking care to make sure your feet didn't hit the door frame as he carried you in. Once the two of you were fully inside, he stopped and then looked at you.
Having his gaze fully on you once again had that bit of anger die out, as suddenly you felt more vulnerable than you'd ever felt in your life before this point. Your shirt was torn and the majority your legs were still bare as he hadn't bothered to readjust your pants before he'd grabbed you, so you were in his arms with your pants around your ankles.
Not just humiliating, but awkward as well, especially when you moved to cover yourself back up as the way he stared at you had those intense feelings of shame and helplessness running through you once again. Though you knew it wouldn't accomplish much of anything, and especially not when you were at the mercy of Kishibe's whims.
“Did I say you could cover up?”
The sound of his voice made you freeze, and then when you processed his words, you began to shake in his grip. While it seemed that you were out of tears to shed, you were still able to sniffle softly in despair.
That got him to react, and Kishibe leaned in to place a kiss on your forehead before he buried his face into your hair again.
“It'll be hard for now, but it will get better,” he told you.
You only shook harder in his grip.
With a hum against your hair, he spoke again.
“You should be happy. In this world where people's priorities are on themselves and themselves alone, you have someone who's willing to do anything to look out for you.”
And with that, Kishibe used his foot to close the bedroom door firmly behind the both of you.
I just wanted to ask if you’re writing any Ciel x fem!reader fics soon? ❤️
i dont have any in the works currently. I dont really write for ciel/alois anymore but if you have an ask feel free to send one in. I definitely cant promise ill get to it soon as im pretty busy and just lurking rn but its possible i might get a burst of energy and answer an ask or two.
Never be afraid to send an ask in! worst thing that will happen is that i dont answer it 🤷♀️
warnings: yandere, noncon touching, petplay, dehumanization, drugging, f!reader, kidnapping, smut, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, minors do not interact.
Yandere Suguru Geto x Reader
Yandere! Geto, who would play his dutiful role of a safe space, just to collapse those pitiful walls of yours, raising his walls around you even higher. Like a dog being crate trained for the first time. Planting little treats here and there just so you come closer and closer to his awaiting arms.
Yandere! Geto, who thinks it's so cute when you come over to his apartment, crying those big, crocodile wails about some guy. The same excuses that have blended together over the past few months - you got ghosted again, broken up with, cheated on, doesn't matter, because at the end of the day, you're in his arms. Crying into his shoulder. Fists bunched into his shirt.
So, he thought he could handle the fact that you're sleeping around. That you're out flirting and kissing other guys because, really, who is the real winner here? You keep crawling back to him each and every time like a dog with a tail between its legs and a whimper caught in its throat.
Yandere! Geto, thought he could push all those silly thoughts of his aside. Who thought he could handle the idea of his sweet girl going off with different strange men. But it seems his hands act on impulse before his mind can think of the consequences.
Yandere! Geto, who pouts that lower lip of his with a sigh at your rambles, his finger lifting your chin so you're forced to look into his violet eyes while he tilts the last bit of wine in your glass past your lips. His thumbs brush away a stray salty tear or two, taking your mind away from the lingering fizzy taste on your tongue that wasn't there a moment ago. Easily pulling you onto his lap after a few moments, your body already going limp, and your words can't help but mush into something incoherent. His eyes, delicate yet cold, watch as your own go glassy.
Yandere! Geto, who thinks it was worth all the little moments of frustration within himself, dealing with his control issues and all. Letting you have the freedom that you'll never have the luxury to taste again.
Oh, does he delight in finally having your warmth in his arms. The delight in his face when your body is just as reactive as he had thought it would be. He begins to palm your breasts, watching the panic in your eyes subside. His other hand already begins to nudge your limp legs apart, just to get a look at the cute little panties you wore just for him.
"A little bow just for me? You shouldn't have, puppy," He coos sickly sweet against your ear, ignoring the pitiful noise that escapes your throat. "Guess, I'll just take all night exploring underneath these, mm? I don't hear any protests."
His eager hand circles your clit through the patterned cotton, listening to every hitch of your breath. His knowing eyes glancing down at the pool of wetness beginning to form against the fabric, and how he just knows if he didn't put that muscle-relaxant into your drink, he'd have you bucking right into his palm like a bitch in heat.
Yandere! Geto, who pushes away his own feelings to not fuck you dumber than you already are. Who has to remind himself that this is all just the beginning. Just the start of your training for your true purpose in life.
Yandere! Geto, who can't help but breathe a laugh as he carries you to his bedroom and begins to tell you all of his ideas. How he first thought of dating you. Then he thought about hooking up until he got to this moment. But now, with these drugs in your system, with him having you right in his palm. Well, isn't it better if he makes you exactly what he wants you to be?
Yandere! Geto, who gently places you inside the pink metal crate, after a sweet kiss to your lips. Tucking you into the various pink paw print blankets that are nothing but soft against your skin, yet not thick enough to block the bite of the bottom of the crate bars that will soon dig into your skin until he deems you can come out again.
You were never going to be wife or girlfriend material to him. Not even a friend.
No, you were no more than a bitch in heat, and he's here to make you realize exactly what you are.
Finished with my exam and went home to watch JJK 0 (yes finally) and like I always knew it deep down but OMG YUTA OKKOTSU IS SUCH A MANUPILATIVE YANDERE LMAOOOOOO YALL SEE HOW HE MANUPILATES RIKA AND ACTUALLY EVERYONE AROUND HIM AND STILL ENDS UP PLAYING THE VICTIM????????😭😭😭😭😭
Like the way he was all “imma help u wipe out the zenin clan🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰” to Maki which would be so uncharacteristic of him because he’s a wimp and just barely starting to get his self esteem back, and his whole thing is “ooohh I just don’t want ANYONE to get hurt” but he’s gonna hurt zenin clan, while he felt bad about hurting his bullies????
Also remember in the beginning how gojo offered him that he could either join the school or hole himself up inside (because Yuta said he’d rather not hurt anyone again so he’ll just “keep himself locked away”) but when gojo didn’t bother falling for his act and begging him to join the school, HE CHOSE TO COME TO THE SCHOOL HIMSELF AND LITERALLY CONTRAINDICATED HIS GREAT SACRIFICE ABOUT STAYING ALONE.
Or or how he pretended to play dumb when panda indiscreetly asked him about if he’d be into Maki. OR HOW WHEN GETO CAME TO THE SCHOOL TO END HIM, he let all of his friends suffer first and the only thing that came to mind was “hm, is that another earthquake????🤔🤔🤔” WHILE THERES 3 EARTH SHATTERING BLASTS AND CRASHES OUTSIDE, like you’re telling me u can’t see out your window????
Oh and for the grand finale, how he manipulated RIKA, the poor girl, HE PUT A CURSE ON, “baby girl, if u just lend me powers, i swear imma love u like u my princess, imma treat u real good😮💨”
NOT TO MENTION HES A DISTANT RELATIVE OF GOJO, so obv manipulation and power tripping runs in the blood, and you can’t tell me otherwise that he wouldn’t manipulate the HELLLLL OUTTA THE POOR DARLING he’d managed to get his paws on and I can see it- oh he’d use Rika to terrorise you and then try to console you by playing the knight in shining armour, going all “oh well Rika only hurt you because you scared her when you tried to run away/pushed me away/upset me, so technically you should be the one apologising to us both🥰” all while he’s holding ur limp body in his arms, you’re trying to physically and MENTALLY RECOVER YOUR XP while Rika is just low growling at u and this dude is just caressing your cheek and beaming at you.
And you know what, I can also see him being able to convince Maki into being a yandere for you, like “babe, look at her, I just can’t bring myself to leave her to the world. What if she ends up like your sister?💀” and Maki is immediately triggered and she’s even a more cruel yandere than him😭😭😭
Weird, weird, weird pervert who’s got you pinned like in some strange wrestling move. Skirt lifted over your belly with your cunt tipped up to his face.
He’s got his tongue poking into the pillowy part of your panties. Spitting on the pink fabric, making it turn dark. Eyes big and steal-gazing to how it starts to cling to the outline of your cunt—making his cheeks rouge.
He doesn’t peel it to the side, put traces your slit with his fingers, rubbing you through the wet layer, soaking it with more of his tongue until it’s drenched all over and all the way through, making your own self get sticky beneath it.
Finding your hole, he pokes the lace inside it. Fucking it into you, breath shuddering while watching it disappear, getting swallowd and sucked inside.
When he pulls it out again, he puts his mouth back on you—sucking the fabric dry of his spit and your taste.
He keeps it up until you cum.
The crotch of your panties stretched out and thin, looking like a frayed rope, barely covering anything anymore.
That’s when he grips it and pulls it, elastic strings snapping until it rips apart at both your hips.
He then bags them and runs off like a thief in the night.
Imagine getting split up in a haunted house with your friends. It starts off with the typical jumpscares as the actors do their job well.
You're wondering down a smoke filled hall full of flashing led lights. Fake blood is smeared on the walls and cobwebs are on the ceiling. You're still giggling from the way your friend shrieked the moment you all stepped in.
Looking around, you shuddered a little bit as you walked past a guy in clown makeup lying on the floor with a slash across his chest, blood pouring around him. Practical effects are getting so realistic these days, you thought to yourself.
You're so distracted as cheesy horror music still plays in the background that you don't notice a tall figure standing there until you run into them.
Tilting your head back, your eyes go wide as you see a man in a mask towering over you.
"Sorry." You smiled awkwardly as you took a step back to get away, and you see he's wearing black jeans, a white wife beater splattered in red, and holding on to what (you hope) is a fake axe. He easily towers over you.
The man stays silent, making the atmosphere feel more tense. He's tall and muscular, and you can only see his eyes peaking down at you from underneath the mask. He definitely fit the role of a haunt actor.
"Wow." You laughed nervously as you stepped to the side. "You're like, really in character, huh?"
The man stays silent as he turns and watches you rush past him, and you swear you can hear him chuckle as you turn the corner.
Chills ran down your spine as you started to wander around, feeling like someone was watching you, but every time you turned around to check, nobody was there. Frustration started to build up as you hut nothing but dead ends.
Sure, it was fun at first, with the occasional jumpscare popping out at you that would make flinch, then laugh at yourself for letting it get to you. But your phone had no reception and you were losing track of time.
This was getting ridiculous, you thought to yourself as you looked around for someone to ask for help to get out of there. You hoped your friends were having a better time than you were.
Once you reached the next dead end, you nearly screamed in frustration, ready to yank your hair out until you saw the same masked man from the corner of your eye.
"Okay." You sighed as you walked over to him. "Haha, you got me. Can you please help me get out of here now?"
The man stays silent, but his eyes are trained on you as he lowers his head to look down at you.
You rolled your eyes as he stayed in character, watching the blood drip off of the axe he was casually holding onto.
It wasn't until you got closer to him that the heavy metallic scent hit you. A chill ran down your spine, true terror running through your veins as you looked down at his weapon, noticing how sharp it really was. A real weapon, not allowed in haunts like this one.
Suddenly, the fun little jumpscares weren't so fun anymore. This man wasn't a haunt actor at all.
Your face paled as you remembered the dead clown that you'd passed by earlier. The actor that would've been the one to scare you a few times before helping you reunite with your friends at the exit. But he was really dead.
And now you were stuck here with him. An actual killer.
As if reading your thoughts, he grabbed your chin and pulled you against him. You were shaking as he leaned down, lowering his head to whisper in your ear.
"Run." He growled lowly before letting go of your chin and stepping back.
You didn't have to be told twice, immediately running away from him.
Suddenly, the smoke felt too heavy, the music was too loud, the deep red led lights that filled the rooms only added to your terror, and the animatronics they had to jump out at you only made you more overwhelmed.
You were nearly ready to cry as you turned around and saw the masked man casually walking towards you in typical horror movie slasher style.
Then you heard the sound of distant laughter. It sounded like your friends chatting with each other.
A wave of hope went through you as you ran over to the wall and started banging against it, screaming at the top of your lungs.
"Help!" You yelled out as loud as you could as you slapped your hands against the walls. "Please, help! He-"
You shrieked as a hand suddenly grabbed ahold of your hair and pushed you onto the cold ground.
The masked man throws his axe to the side as he climbs on top of you, making you look into his eyes.
He laughs wickedly, pressing himself against you as he tightens his grip on your hair. You screamed and cried, trying to push him off you as you feel his hard on rub against your thigh, cock straining against his jeans.
"Scream all you want." He grinned as he pulled his mask up, feeling his breath fanning against your lips. "Everyone will think it's all part of the show."
It’s hours before he finally returns. Humming amusedly at the sight of you, a smile on his face.
Voice sickly sweet as he asks, “Learned your lesson yet?” Standing above you in appraisal, hands in his pockets.
“Mngh–” you bumble out with a brittle whimper, barely audible, unable to shape the word, shivering on the floor, sweaty and dazed and numb from head to toe as the vibrations continue their rampage inside you, slowly but surely pulling you towards another devastation you can’t afford without feeling like you’re going to die, and yet so out of energy you can only try your best to anchor and brace for impact.
“Aw~” is all the sympathy he has to offer. Laughing as he squats down next to you, petting the gloss of your cheek with a curled digit. “Screamed so much you lost your voice, huh?”
Pulling his hand out of his pocket, he presents the slick black controller, as if teasingly flaunting it for you to see, finger hovering over the off button. Watching the hope and plead swirl within your puffy eyes, and basking in the power-trip it brings him.
“Don’t worry, baby, I got you.” Finally, he shows you mercy and ceases the toy’s incessant drumming, making you let out a long sigh of relief, still just lying there limp as he reaches between your legs and pulls the heavily ribbed toy out with a wet schlick.
And then he just stares at you for a moment, admiring his work with a tender smile. Thinking to himself, how he just can't stay mad at you when you're this adorable.
You thought he might just let you stay there, rest up, maybe sleep it off against the comforting cool floor, but it would seem he had other plans in store.
Grabbing your cuffed ankles, he treads himself through the loop, wearing you around his waist like a hula hoop as he sits criss-cross on the floor with you.
With your arms tied up behind your back, you’re left spread out and paralyzed like something slaughtered, forced to straddle his waist as his hand reaches for your already blaring clit.
“It’s so slippery it’s tough to pinch it. Come on now, little clitty, don’t be shy—come here.”
You would have screamed if you had any voice left, but after the many hours he’d made you suffer through orgasm after orgasm, you’re only able to whimper and cry, and then, painful as it is, his fingers on your tortured little bundle of nerves make you strangle out another.
“You just can't stop cumming, huh? So wet and messy and cute. Don’t forget to now breathe, baby.”
You would take his advice, but it’s not easy. The sensation of burning in your lower abdomen makes you hold your breath before stuttering out an outtake, all the while your heart goes into a frenzy, making it impossible for your lungs to ever catch up. Especially when he brings forth his other hand and kneads his palm into your lower belly, right into that tough spot where a massage was the very last thing you needed.
“Come on, just one more squeeze,” he sneers, voice beyond unhinged as he glares at the sight with a manic smile. “Promise, just one last time, and I'll finally fuck you for real, okay?”
He releases at once when it gives way, watching you lie there twitching and quaking, teary eyes staring into nothing with drool spilling out of your mouth like you’ve really gone all braindead from the pleasure.
He only hums, caressing your waist as he leans forth, nibbling on your chin, listening to the weak little moans that come out, asking you again, quite like he’d done at the start of the day when you’d given him a rather nasty reply, “You want my cock now?”
This time, you seem to have found enough manners to know the right answer, slurring out a broken little, “Ye-yes–”
He grins, kissing down your neck, “Yeah? You want me to put it in?”
You barely move aside from tiny little spasms provoked by his touches, but he thinks he can spot the ever-so-slight nod of your head while you repeat, “Yes-please–”
He chuckles at that, “Good girl…” Continuing to suck bruises into your chest as he pulls himself out and lays the hard length upon the wet bed of your puffy cunt, so overstimulated you jerk upon the contact, flinching prettily and moaning all weakly as he slides it down to your weepy entrance.
“Here you go, right there,” he croons while easing in. Holding your hips in a tight grip as he pulls you closer up on his lap, sinking in until he’s all the way inside.
He groans as it settles, face mushed against the soft fat of your tit, voice becoming breathy and heated, “You’re trembling on the inside.”
Slipping his arms underneath you, he gathers and pulls you upright, letting you sit, draped against him, all soft and exhausted as he boosts your butt with both arms and bounces you.
“This is all I wanted, baby—” he continues, even though he’s not sure you’re even able to hear him, as unresponsive as you are. He thinks you might have actually passed out, but he doesn’t mind.
Yandere! Housemate who's lowkey rich and you're confused as to why he needs to rent out part of his apartment to you. Why would a rich guy want to share his space for such a cheap price? Until you realise that he's actually a creep and wants to sniff your LAUNDRY!!!!
"What on earth are you doing?"
"Ah... Oops."
He's standing by the laundry, his dick in one hand with your underwear in the other, pressed insistently against his face. You think he's sullied your laundry more than once already because why are you seeing some weird substance on your shirt that's on the floor? Did he actually dig through your laundry to jerk off?
"Dude, are you serious right now?"
Of course, you're appalled by him and his depraved actions. Using your dirty laundry to get off??? Hello sir, that's absolutely disgusting! I mean at least he washes it right? But then again, your clothes have been slowly going missing (yes, you've noticed) so maybe he doesn't even wash them and just steals it for himself after getting off on the smell.
Meanwhile your housemate lowers the hand pressing your underwear to his nose, eyes focused on your furrowed face. God you're adorable. He could cum right now just staring at that scorn.
His cock twitches in his hand, more pre leaking out of the tip as his lips pull into a lazy grin. He didn't even bother getting his pants off all the way, they're just tugged down enough to expose his voluptuous ass and a slither of his thigh.
"What am I doing? Is it not obvious, babe?"
He turns to face you fully, shirt soaked with sweat, hair sticking to his forehead as he continues holding his dick with his hand.
"I'm jerking off to you."
His hand squeezes his cock, a little moan escaping his throat. He slowly strokes the sensitive flesh, eyes fluttering shut for a brief second. Fuck, you're so attractive it hurts. Would it be wrong to just ask you to degrade him while he gets himself off?
"Wha- You're gross!"
"Gross is an understatement."
A deep chuckle leaves his mouth, his hands rubbing the shaft of his cock as he glances down. How many times has he cum today? Three? That's way too little, maybe you can help him?
Your housemate glances up at you, noting your reaction through thick lashes and a cloud of lust. Hm... You're clearly disgusted, in the end it looks like it'll be just him and his trusty hand.
"I'll... Return this once I'm done."
He mumbles, facing away as he goes back to his imaginary daydreams. Ah, in his dreams you'd be smitten by his obsession and would willingly want to help. If only that were reality, how cool that would be.
"Return? Dude you're the one who's been stealing my shit! I want you to give them all back!"
"Ah... Yeah I want you too..."
Unfortunately he seems to be in a daze, registering only what he wants to hear and discarding the rest. You clench your fists, eyes narrowing even as your heart races. Fuck, is he seriously still masturbating to your scent?
That's so... Gross!
"Would you like it if I stole your stuff?"
You throw him a rhetorical question, stomping over as you force him to look you in the eyes. Yeah, that'll show him how you feel!
"...If you stole my stuff..."
He pauses, eyes drifting upwards as he purses his lips. His cock twitches at the thought , a smirk making its way into his lips. Your hand is on his shoulder, body getting closer to his with every passing second.
"I think I would be even more obsessed with you than I am now."
He looks at you for your response, a twinkle in his eye as he suddenly pulls his hand away from his cock. He's keeping himself on the edge, wouldn't want him to cum now that you're here. What if that cum could've gone inside you?
"You-"
"Me?"
He leans down to maintain eye contact with you, not at all caring that you were basically pressed up against each other. Let you feel how hard he is for you, how desperately he needs to be buried in you.
"Come on, you can't say you're not the least but interested. Doesn't seeing me jerk off to you stroke your ego, even just a little?"
His breath tickles your face and you swallow nervously. You have to admit, some weird twisted thing in the back of your mind is a little bit satisfied. You couldn't have imagined someone being so infatuated with your scent that they'd go to such depravity.
But you shake your head, forcing those thoughts back into your mind.
"No! Not at all!"
That tiny little waver in your voice gives him all he needs to know.
"You're lying."
He mumbles softly, both hands now grasping at your face before he presses a kiss against your temple, then your cheeks, and finally on your nose. What he'd give to worship your body like a temple...
"Unfortunately, my dick is hard and I'm a horny bastard. Can we fuck?"
He grinds his hips against yours, his pre cum staining your clothes. You grimace at the sight, wanting nothing more than to tell him to get his disgusting hands off of you. He hasn't even washed them and he touched your face! That's filthy!
"Fine, whatever. I'm dirty anyway, night as well get a good fuck before showering and scolding you for being a creep."
You think your answer shocked your housemate because why is he just staring at you now. Did his dick get harder too? Why did it just bob up and down?
"Hah... Haha..."
He stumbles on his words, eyes wide before he presses a kiss against your lips. His touch is surprisingly gentle for how needy his cock seems to be.
"You have no idea how happy you've made me."
In an instant, your pants have been tugged down to your mid thighs, his cock pressing insistently against your crotch. His lips trail down your neck, hands leaving fleeting touches down your body.
"I've been wishing for this moment for months."
He moans, not even penetrating you as he ruts against your covered sex. The air between the two of you is heavy, loud moans and desperate pants fill the air while he chases his high together with you.
"Oh f-fuck... You feel so good... So much better than my hand..."
His voice rumbles against the crook of your neck, his dick leaking against your underwear. It's messy, filthy, unplanned and in the laundry room no less, but something about it makes you want to let him have his way with you.
"God, just get your dick in me already..."
"Ngh... Later..."
Right now, he's too busy appreciating the beauty of humping against your body. Such a simple act, but it's got his dick harder than it's ever been in years.
You on the other hand, suddenly found interest in his disgusting habit of using your scent to get off.
"Why were you even stroking your dick to my scent? It would've made sense if it was a picture but my dirty underwear that's probably a few days old?"
He pauses momentarily, his hips stilling before he laughs breathlessly, eyeing you with a sheepish expression.
"You smell good to me. Plus, what's more romantic than stealing your housemate's underwear? The longer it marinates, the better."
You sigh, knowing that he was probably being honest. Smell good, huh? He has a musk kink? It makes sense you suppose, he's a creep and a weirdo who hovers around you a little too often... Yeah it definitely checks out.
He suddenly moans into your neck, lips nipping at the sensitive flesh as he continues rutting against you. Fuck, his orgasm is approaching, and he hasn't even told you how much he loves you.
"You, hah... Like gifts, don't you?"
You grumble softly, cheeks flushing a faint red as you feel yourself on the verge of climaxing as well. Shit, you never expected to get this turned on by some mere grinding! Who knew his dick game was this strong?
"Yeah, what? You have a gift for me?"
He nods, burying his face into your neck once more. Your hands run through his hair, tugging and losing yourself in pleasure.
"It's my fucked up, pathetic, disgusting love," He moans into your neck, eyes hazy with lust and obsession. "And I give it all to you."
Dabi loves to see you cry. He hates being the one to make you cry. He'd rather burn up a hospital than intentionally make you cry. But when you look at him with tears rolling down your cheeks and your puffy eyes look up at him begging for him to fix whatever is wrong, he can't help it.
That's why when you come home with a frown on your face and wobbly eyes, his cock gets hard. He stands up to greet you, taking you in his arms, muttering comforting words. He guides you to the bedroom, lying you down, whispering something like ‘It's over now, I'll help you forget it’. He slides your pants off, kissing your stomach as his hands rake up and down your body. One hand grips your nipple, rubbing it between his fingers as you moan, arching your back up to meet his hand. The other dips down, circling your clit lightly
He brings his other hand down from your breast to your thigh, pushing it up to your stomach so he can push his fingers in your cunt. Dabi pumps his fingers in and out, watching as your face contorts in pleasure. He can see some stray tears fall from your eyes, making him push his fingers in deeper.
“I can't take it any more, ba. I need that pussy.” You can only register what he says for a second before he's pushing his cock inside of your plush cunt. Dabi almost cums right there as he feels you fluttering around him. He wasted no time and started pumping in and out of you, feeling the way your nails rake down his back in pleasure. He brings his hand to your clit, loving the way you scream out his name.
You feel that familiar coil in your stomach as you grip onto Dabi. Letting out a loud, shaking moan, you cum, eyes rolling into the back of your head. Dabi keeps on going, kissing your neck as he keeps feverishly rutting into you.
“ts too much,” you say into his ear, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from the overstimulation. “Just a bit longer, please, princess”, he whispers. You clench around him, reaching your second orgasm with choked moans slipping from your lips. Gripping your shoulders and burying his face in your neck, he cums with a loud groan, keeping himself deep inside as he flips you over to lie on top of him. You try to move off of him or move him out of you, but he just holds you to his chest.
✄ I know very little about hypnosis, but I did what I could based on what I read on the internet, so I'm sorry if it's not amazing. I KNOW IM SO BEHIND IM SORRY
Your foot taps on the ground anxiously as you wipe your hands on your pants. Your lack of sleep has been getting the better of you, despite your efforts. Doctors, prescribed medications, over-the-counter medications, massage therapists, mental health therapists, all that couldn't help you. So, when a friend recommended hypnosis, you sighed but asked for their contact. Might as well give it a shot; it could be the thing that works for you.
You're snapped out of your thoughts by the receptionist calling your name. She points her pen to the door next to her desk without even looking up from her computer. “The doctor will see you now. It's the door on the right. One on the left is the bathroom if you need it.”
Taking a deep sigh, you push the door open and trek down the hallway. Standing in front of the door, you contemplate knocking or just going in when the door swings open, startling you. The handsome man in front of you lets out a throaty chuckle. “Sorry to startle you there, doll. Come on in.”
Dr. Geto, or Suguru as he asked you to call him, is polite and very handsome. It's hard to focus on his words when his muscles flex under his white shirt, when his arm moves, or when he licks his lips in between sentences. You briefly hear him describing the benefits of hypnosis for insomnia, but you’re not really paying attention. You snap out of it when Suguru calls your name, tilting his head with a smile. “I'm so sorry, I was lost in my head…” You chuckle, rubbing the back of your nape
“That's alright, y/n. I was just explaining that hypnosis helps lead you to a calmer state of mind, which in turn helps you drift off into sleep more easily. Now, the only obstacle there might be is your subconscious blocking the hypnotic effects because it believes that hypnosis won't work. Do you have faith that this will help?” Suguru smiles as you let out an eager nod. You're right where he wants you to be.
“That's great, y/n. I'm going to guide you through a meditation that will put your mind into a pliable position, so I can then tell your subconscious that when you, for instance, put on your pajamas, your mind goes into a state of relaxation. When I snap my fingers, you will come out of this state of relaxation.”
With that, you lie down, close your eyes, and listen as Suguru guides you through the meditation. He maps up and down your body, instructing you when to tense what muscles and when to release them. There are times when you accidentally get into your head, and you and Suguru have to restart, but he doesn’t make you feel bad about it. He gives you a light tap on your thigh and lets you know it's normal to have a hard time meditating in an uncomfortable place. After some trial and error, though, you're finally able to slip into that deep state of relaxation.
Suguru leans back in his chair with a sigh, taking your relaxed form. It took him a while to get you here. I mean, it's crazy how no one picked up on the fact that the ‘melatonin’ you were taking was caffeine pills. The friend who recommended you to him was taken in by him and hypnotized solely for them to bring you to him. He switches from his chair to sitting next to your legs, running his hand up and down your thigh, getting closer to your clothed cunt every time.
You shift slightly when you feel Suguru prod at your clit through your pants. He stops his assault, giving you time to settle. He peppers light kisses on your neck and collarbone as his hand snakes down your pants, finding his way to your clit. He starts circling the bud, light and gentle, so as not to disturb you, before he slowly slips one of his digits into your cunt. He shivers at the warmth, taking a minute to feel how you naturally clench around him.
He starts pumping his finger in and out as he trails down your chest, freeing one of your breasts from your shirt. He takes the nipple into his mouth. Swirling around with his tongue, watching as your hips grind against his fingers, and your mouth lets out little mewls of pleasure. He can feel you cum around his fingers with a breathless moan, chest rising and falling quickly as your body relaxes again. “You need to come see me again. Whenever you touch yourself at night, you think of me”, Suguru says in your ear.
He fixes your clothes and pats your hair down before snapping you out of your trance. When you wake, you feel disoriented and sore. Suguru said it was normal; your mind is going through some serious reconditioning.
