Nana

[masakres]

Skipping the storyline and going straight into the fucking part..

[melissax777]

big and dominant but also gentle and patient with me

[ma0chi77]

wipp

[frenchcoucou]

We share! 🍼

ac: noonrema

translation:

There's a pack with the date on it in the freezer, so thaw it, warm it up in a double boiler, and give it to him. Don't heat it up in the microwave just because it's a hassle! After he finishes eating, make sure to burp him. You know what I mean? Please.

[rissouu]

an eater, I NEED HER

boyfriend!higuruma baby traps you… on accident.

⚚ when higuruma’s boss called him late notice, and told him he had a case that would last twelve days, he nearly ripped his own hair out. how the hell would he survive being away from you for that long? he didn’t even like taking too long using the bathroom for fucks sake, always afraid of missing any word you said.

at some point he started a habit of taking you in there with him, making you sit on the sink and continue your yap sessions while he did what he needed to. part of him seriously thought about stuffing you in his briefcase to come along whenever work called.

many of your friends were concerned with how clingy he was.. and the amount of aggression he’d show when he couldn’t be, but you quickly waved them off. higuruma just loved you so much! maybe a lot more than the average person should, but you didn’t mind it, which is why you always rushed to his defense.

higuruma was flattered you were so protective of him, but your friends really weren’t wrong to be worried, he was downright obsessed with you. everyone could see it but you.

guilt washed over him constantly— here you were thinking he was the best boyfriend in the world, but mostly the guy was just a selfish over thinker. what if someone tried taking his place beside you while it was empty?

oh helllll no.

“aht keep your hands off baby,” his low voice was soothing but it had a slight sternness to it. your legs wrapped around his waist while you were pinned in a mating press, forced to feel every inch of him.

“if you push me again, ‘m gonna have to spank my princess. y’want that angel? hmm?”

you started drooling when your eyes locked on his droopy ones, he hadn’t stopped staring and it was driving you quite insane. you couldn’t stop your hands that instinctively started pushing him again, “ngh- hiro! n..need you s’bad!”

the smack that followed was loud, and your clit was stinging before you could even process what had happened. “cmonn pretty don’t be bad please, i leave soon. please?”

something about his begging had your walls squeezing him even more. higuruma leaned down, tucking his head into your neck to the point his lips grazed your ear.

you were babbling a bunch of nonsense but it sounded damn near poetic to him. he could listen to you for hours.

“daddy’s gonna miss you soo much princess. s..so much-” his whispers slowly turned into whimpers, every sound only pushed you further over the edge. “w..will you miss me? tell me please, need to hear you..”

“im g..gonna- mm- miss you too! always miss youuu!” you couldn’t believe you were slurring out words like this. and it was even harder to believe that he actually understood them.

his free hand crept down your thigh— only stopping once it got to your foot, kissing the heel before putting your white toes to his lips.

he was silent aside from a few grunts, and when higuruma got quiet it never meant anything good. it meant he was up to something.

the man started thinking about not pulling out. the thought came on a whim and it kept growing the more he looked at your fucked out face.

would you be mad? maybe try to leave him? well, its not like he’d ever let you do a silly thing like that.

he couldn’t have you going anywhere, or ever try to walk out on him. you’d already agreed to be his forever, what’s the harm in a little extra precaution? you did always love nanami’s kids..

“need to m..make you a mama, yeah? get you all filled with my babies, walking ‘round with that belly, showing everybody you’re mine- shit shit.” you nearly cut the circulation off in his shaft when you heard his words.

he chuckled low and rubbed your pudge, imagining all the ways your body would fill in while carrying part of him. “i see my pretty pussy likes the idea… now 'm just waiting on my pretty girl.”

when he slapped your thigh you knew he wanted an answer. in an instant you nodded mindlessly— not caring much about anything besides his tip that brushed against your womb. or the fat thumb that circled your clit with purpose. “ohhh my goshh yes! i want it, want my baby, pleasee!”

eh.. you really shouldn’t have told him that.

©rissouu 2026

masterlist

[ibukji]

boyfie things w/ frat sukuna! - a collection of random texts and ig stories with your bf⋆˚꩜｡ (pics are random!) 🏷️ im so obsessed with making the ig stories sorry if theres 2 many😭 & sorry if its kinda ooc🥹

the minion slippers and lv sandals had me rolling on the floor im sorry i like to think im kinda funny if u cant tell

[xnighten]

[an9els]

𝜗𝜚 toji loves talking you through it, no matter how flustered you get . . .

( mdni. cw: age gap, size kink, fingering, orgasm control, praise kink, light degradation, overstim, squirting, slight humiliation )

you’ve never had a boyfriend before toji.

well, maybe a crush or two, a date here and there, some awkward kisses in the back of someone’s car— but nothing like this. no one’s ever touched you like they wanted you. no one ever spoke to you the way he does, with that raspy tone, filthy mouth and sweet, mocking little smile, like he was built to corrupt girls like you.

he’s got years on you, enough that people can’t help but wonder what someone like you is doing with someone like him. he’s seen more, lived more, and it shows in everything he does, especially in the bedroom.

you’re still learning. still shy and hesitant, too flustered to even say the word “pussy” out loud, let alone tell him what you want. but he’s never once made you feel stupid for it. not really. he teases, sure— calls you a brat when you whine too much, tells you to open wider when your legs start to shake— but it’s only ever to get you to melt a little more for him. to break you down in the softest, most dangerous way.

and right now, you’re already unraveling for him.

his hands— big and warm and rough— have been between your thighs for god knows how long, stroking and pressing and curling just enough to get you close before pulling back again. it’s maddening. it’s mean. especially when he keeps talking to you like that, as if this is some sweet little lesson in anatomy and not the fifth time he’s brought you to the edge and refused to let you cum.

you feel like you’re gonna die. like you’re gonna dissolve straight through the bed. the burn in your tummy hasn’t gone away in what feels like forever and toji’s voice is not helping.

“c’mon, baby,” he murmurs, dragging one thick finger over your slick folds again, teasing your puffy clit with the pad of his thumb. “what kinda face is that? hm? barely even started and you’re already lookin’ like you’re gonna cry.”

a whimper slips out of you, flinching under the weight of his stare, but you still try to push your hips up into his touch. it’s humiliating, how desperate you are for him to keep going, to stop talking and just touch you again.

but he clicks his tongue, other hand sliding up to press against your pelvis and hold you down.

“needy lil thing,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “don’t even realize how fuckin’ pretty you look when you’re squirming for it.”

“t-toji—”

“what, doll?” he coos, voice saccharine and condescending. “you want somethin’? use your words, baby, you know better than that.”

your face burns.

he always does this— makes you ask for it, forces you to say the nastiest shit out loud when you can barely breathe, when your thighs are trembling and your pussy’s already dripping just from his voice alone. it makes you feel so small. so embarrassed.

and he loves every second of it.

“look at you,” he mutters, dragging two fingers through your slit, slow and torturous, watching how your body jolts when he circles your clit. “leaking all over the sheets already… and all i did was talk to you. that’s all it takes, huh?”

you whimper again and instinctively try to close your legs, overwhelmed and worked up beyond belief.

but his hands are faster.

“ah ah,” he scolds, prying them back open with ease. “what did i say last time, baby?”

you blink up at him, lips parted in shock as his thumb presses firmly against your clit again— making your back arch with a sharp moan.

“i-i wasn’t—”

“yes, you were,” he chuckles, low and gravelly. “don’t try n’ hide from me. not when i’m the one makin’ you feel good.”

his voice is calm, patient, but the grin on his face is smug— mean, almost. he knows how deep this goes. he knows how easily you get overstimulated, how your thoughts go fuzzy the second he starts touching you like this. and even worse— he enjoys it.

“don’t go gettin’ shy on me now, pretty girl,” he hums, slipping two thick fingers into your cunt with ease— soaked and open from all the teasing. “you were beggin’ for it ten minutes ago.”

you gasp, eyes going wide as your hips buck instinctively, but he just pins you back down again, huffing a low laugh.

“so sensitive,” he mutters, voice rasping with arousal. “fuck, this pussy’s always so tight for me. can’t believe i’m the only one that’s ever touched you like this.”

“you are,” you whine, teary-eyed, like you’re trying to defend your own innocence.

“mm, i know, baby,” he croons mockingly. “trust me, i know. no one else could ever get you this wet just by talkin’ to you like this. no one else could make you clench around their fingers just from callin’ you their good girl.”

your face burns hotter.

“d-don’t say it like that,” you mumble, turning your head to the side, trying to shield your face from his stare.

but he’s not having it.

“say what, baby?” he says, leaning in closer. “you don’t like when i talk about how good your pussy feels?”

you choke on a moan when he curls his fingers inside you— grinding against that soft, tender spot over and over and over again until your hips are shaking and your thighs are twitching around his wrist.

“feels good, huh?” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your temple. “you’re bein’ so good for me, baby. so fuckin’ pretty like this.”

and it makes your heart ache.

because no one’s ever made you like this before, not even close, and the way he talks, the way he praises and teases and knows your body better than you do… it’s all too much. it makes you feel good but it also makes you feel insecure, makes you worry you’re too slow, too sensitive, too—

“hey.”

his voice softens.

you’re trembling. blinking up at him with watery eyes and bitten lips, flushed and overwhelmed and scared you’re not doing something right. but he leans in, strokes your cheek with his free hand, kisses your jaw so gently it almost makes you cry.

“you okay, baby?”

you nod, but your bottom lip wobbles.

“hey,” he says again, gentler this time. “you’re doin’ perfect, pretty girl. i got you. not gonna let anything happen to you, ‘kay?”

“okay,” you whisper.

he smiles. warm and slow.

“good girl.”

and then he goes straight back to ruining you.

your head drops back against the pillow as his fingers move faster, messier, his palm now rubbing up against your clit just enough to have your legs shaking again.

“there she goes,” he mutters, grinning like the devil. “gonna make a mess, huh?”

“i-i think—” you gasp, suddenly clenching hard around his fingers, eyes wide and panicked. “toji i- something’s happening i—”

“it’s okay,” he says, voice hoarse. “lemme guess, you feel like you gotta pee, right?”

you nod desperately, hips twitching, but he just keeps going.

“that’s not pee, baby,” he murmurs, licking his lips. “that’s you about to fuckin’ squirt.”

your face crumples in embarrassment.

“what?!”

but he ignores you, curling his fingers just right again and hitting that spot over and over until—

“toji!!”

it hits like a shockwave, your back arches, a cry spills from your throat, and suddenly there’s wetness everywhere.

you freeze.

he freezes.

then he bursts out laughing.

“fuck,” he grins, staring down at your dripping thighs like they’re a holy relic. “baby, you just squirted all over my fuckin’ hand. holy shit.”

your face is on fire.

“shut up,” you mumble, weak and breathless, squirming in embarrassment. “d-don’t say it like that…”

but he’s still smiling like he just won the damn lottery.

“nah, c’mon, baby,” he chuckles, leaning over you with a kiss. “that was the hottest fuckin’ thing i’ve ever seen.”

“stop laughing at me…”

“not laughin’ at you, doll,” he says, brushing your hair back sweetly. “just proud of you. and maybe a little impressed. you got me soaked.”

“you’re the worst,” you whimper, burying your face in your hands.

“yeah, yeah,” he hums, licking his fingers clean with a groan. “and you’re my cute lil squirter now. ‘s gonna be your new name in my phone.”

“toji!”

he winks.

“c’mere, baby. let me kiss it better.”

[reignpage]

In which farm hand!reader does her usual round with Silk worm hybrid!Gojo ;)

Silk worm hybrid!Gojo is a dramatic little fella with a few different preferences he will not budge on, starting with wanting to be silk-milked by one person and one person only: you. He refuses to let anyone else take him to the extraction room. And he will throw a fuss if someone else even tries. Since he’s the farm’s most valued hybrid, you have no choice but to acquiesce every demand.

Silk worm hybrid!Gojo likes one method of extraction in particular — you sitting on his face, his tongue buried up your sopping cunt, and your soft hands wringing every web out of him. 

His pretty, pink cock oozes out milky-white pre, which quickly hardens to delicate strings of silk, with every hard tug. Quite often, he gets backed up if the pre clogs, so you have to squeeze his cockhead to encourage movement. And sometimes, rubbing his slit isn’t enough; you have to use your mouth. You wrap your lips around the tip, earning loud moans from him, and suck hard.

“Hngh, fuck! I’m making it h-hard for you, aren’t I, little farmhand? Literally and -mm- figuratively,” he says, chuckling onto your clit, which he thumbs absentmindedly. “Maybe I do it on purpose so you’d give me special attention — we’ll never know, will we?”

Silk worm hybrid!Gojo hates when you pull out a particular tool for assistance. It’s a long, thin rod with a rounded hook at the end. Only used when a clot is too far down or too stubborn to be sucked out. He claims it’s painful, but you know it’s because he likes it too much.

Coldness presses on his flushed tip. He stills beneath you, halting his obscene slurping of your juices. “Wait…you promised you wouldn’t use that thing again.”

You sigh. “I never said that, and you know I have to. You’ll get an infection if I don’t get the clot out.”

Silk worm hybrid!Gojo can’t protest with your entire body pinning him and the leather restraints keeping him down on the examination table. The rod pushes in through his slit. He gasps. “N-no, no. Wait!”

It stretches his walls out, tickling his insides and building intense pressure inside. A long whimper escapes him, his back arching as high as it can go with his restraints. Meanwhile, you focus on navigating the passage, and once you feel resistance, expertly yank out the clot.

Silk worm hybrid!Gojo’s garbled scream is muffled by your cunt. Cum sprays out like a broken fountain. It splashes on your face and all over his stomach. And just like that, you’ve extracted a week’s worth of silk in one session.

He gets a pat on his head, which he acknowledges with a weak nod and more drool leaving his lips. 

“Clean up on Aisle Gojo,” he mumbles. “I think I peed a little too.”

Baby's first sounding fic >_<

[hoesluvshoko]

wait....i'm into this

[parfaitmq]

Girl math

[lalaleeiillaa]

“yeah i read a lot!”

“oh awesome! What books do you read?”

[ryomeans]

toji’s a little gross… MDNI

when toji says nothing can keep him away from you, he’s not kidding.

morning breath and you haven’t brushed your teeth? he doesn’t care, he’ll kiss you like always and lick the front and back of both rows of your teeth clean.

don’t even try to tell him you can’t kiss him because you’ve gone down with a cold and can’t breathe out of your nose. he’ll suck the snot out himself.

but his favorite?

it’s when you haven’t showered yet.

it’s when you taste and smell like you. no sugary body wash, no minty shampoo, just you.

“toji, i’m sweaty and i haven’t showered,” you protested, although your words fall on deaf ears as he pulls your shorts and underwear down in one go.

he takes one long look at the marvelous sight in front of him, feeling his mouth water at your glistening cunt. his tongue runs over his lips, then the rough scar just adjacent to it.

toji doesn’t waste any time — diving into your slick folds nose-first and taking a deep breath in. your thoughts melt into a puddle every time his nose rubs against your clit and teases your entrance.

a guttural groan rumbles in his chest, arms wrapping around your thighs to bury his face deeper into your cunt.

the moment his tongue darts out to lick a long stripe against your slit, gathering your sweetness onto his tastebuds, he’s a goner.

he doesn’t stop, no — he doesn’t even think about it. not even after you’ve lost count of your orgasms; not even after you’ve squirted heaps onto him that he looked like he had just come out of the shower.

his boxers were soaked from him coming after rutting his dick against the edge of the bed, senses heightened from the pleasure he was giving you.

toji’s definitely a little gross, but you love it.

© ryomeans -> do not copy, translate, or reupload my works.

[alygator77]

mine to see—oh baby, you can't hide from me

✗ pairing. invisible man! satoru x fem! reader

he said he’d protect you. promised he’d keep you safe. but is it love… or obsession? because there’s blood on the floor, shadows at your door—and as the past claws through the cracks of your new life, you realize: oh. some things never change.

✗ tags/warnings. DARK CONTENT!! nsfw 18+, obsessive/yandere gojo - he's literally so down bad for you. cocky nerdy/scientist gojo. psychological horror. stalking. voyeurism. masturbation. unsafe sex. somnophilia. dubcon elements. invisibility kink. past domestic abuse and emotional manipulation (with suguru). creampie. breeding kink with a hint of baby trapping? degradation and praise. belly bulging. blood/gore. murder. mentions of body disposal. bit of humor and angst too.

✗ a/n. this story is inspired by the psychological horror movie, the invisible man. but if you've seen the movie don't fret! satoru isn't toxicly abusive in this. he is entirely unhinged in the best ways tho, lol. anyways, enjoy this crazy ass fic! 🙂‍↕️

also, pls check out more fics from kiss me killer! here - hosted by my wonderful moots @joemama-2 and @gojosoups !

✗ w.c. 9k

‘You ever leave me, and I swear to fucking god… I’ll destroy everything you love.’

The words have lived in your head for years—stitched between every thought, every gesture, every quiet thing you do to keep the peace. They hum under your skin when the house settles, rattle in your skull with each tick of the grandfather clock down the hall—a metronome for your hesitation.

Because you told yourself you’d move from this bed an hour ago. And yet, a stillness drapes over your skin, creeping up your throat with icy hands, seeping into your chest, curling between your ribs—waiting.

What the fuck are you waiting for? Just follow everything exactly as planned. You’ve rehearsed this in your head. Six nights in a row. You can do this…

Right?

With a shuddering breath, you carefully turn your head to the side, taking in the sight of him—dark hair spilling across the pillow, lips parted in slow, measured breaths. His arm’s draped over your stomach like a claim, cradling you against the mattress.

Like you’re his to love. His to keep.

But you know better.

Peace is never peace with Suguru Geto.

A car passes outside, headlights sliding across the curtains, bleaching the room in white, and you can hear your pulse in your ears, nausea coiling tight in your gut. Because, shit—

…are you really doing this?

‘Aww… wanna test me? Okay, fine. Do you want your sister to lose her fingers, or her eyes first? It’s your call, babygirl.’

There were sirens that night. He swore he hadn’t meant to go that far—that it was your fault for making him prove himself.

And maybe, part of you still believes that. After all, you’re the one who whispered your plans of leaving him—dragging her into this.

…but what else is left to take?

Move.

Carefully, so carefully, you inch toward the edge, hip by inching hip. Every treacherous creak of the frame is a scream in the dark—because one wrong move, one wrong breath, and you’re done for. Right back at the beginning.

“Mmm…”

His voice stirs like a ghost—making you freeze. Hands trembling. Static building under your skin.

‘Try it… I’ll drag you home by your hair you little bitch. No one loves you more than I do, understand?’

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck—

You try to swallow down the knot in your throat, and gathering your courage, your feet welcome the floorboards with a final sweep of your hip.

Cold air hits your skin as the sheet slides from your waist. The wood creaks as you rise, splinters whispering under your soles. And with fumbling fingers, you grasp for your salvation. A duffel—buried, hidden underneath the frame.

This is it.

Right. You can do this. It’s just as Satoru told you—exactly as planned. It carries the weight of everything you prearranged with him. You’re counting down the seconds to freedom, hoisting the strap earnestly over your shoulder until—

Thud!

Contents spill out from where the zipper was undone—shoes, clothes, toiletries—

Nonononono—shit.

You drop to your knees, snatching at everything like it’s a confession, heart pounding, eyes burning. The zipper catches, fabric snagging until you desperately tug it closed. That voice echoes again—

‘Let’s see… for every second you’re gone, how about I take another thing you love, hm?’

Creak!

The house stops breathing with you. Your body trembles, cautiously peering from the corner of your eye, where a shadow moves—stretching against the sheets, sighing through teeth as he stirs back to sleep.

…it’s fine. You’re fine. God, relax. The pills—god, the pills. You crushed them into his drink. You watched him swallow it hours ago. He should be out cold… should be.

But as he stirs again, the bed creaking underneath him, even you don’t trust chemistry. Not with Suguru Geto. So, you don’t waste another second—repositioning the duffle’s strap as you slip through the bedroom door.

Silence hums like an exposed wire—the strap biting into your skin, burning like his grip used to while you maneuver the estate. And now, you run. The hallway stretches like a tunnel as your feet scurry towards the stairs—one hand on the rail, heart hammering in your chest.

You slide through the kitchen, faint light glowing under the range hood; past the study, where the window welcomes sight of the property’s guest house.

That house…

Satoru’s house.

It comes into view as you stumble outside, just as the night hits you in full. And chasing the ghost of freedom, you run, run , run—the bag thudding against your back, crickets hissing like static, damp grass clutching at your ankles.

Freedom.

But why does the lawn between the two houses stretch longer than you remember? It’s an endless, open vein of darkness. Close. Yet so far. You’re panting, tears building, threatening to spill—because if you can just make it to that guest house—to him—the ghosts will finally leave you alone.

With clouded breaths, you climb the steps—towards the warmth of the porch light glowing, left on. For you. The deck creaks as you approach the door, and with chattering teeth, you knock. Fast. Frantic.

…

Silence.

Shit. What's taking so long? Where is he? What if he’s not here?

You glance over your shoulder, knocking again.

Does Suguru know? Fuck—what if he’s known all along? Did he get to Satoru? Is he playing you? Is he—

Click!

Your thoughts are interrupted as the hinge creaks; a wash of light spilling from inside the hall. And there he is—leaning in the entryway, one hand braced above his head. He’s like an angel. Your savior, your whole heart. Beautiful. Draped in nothing but low-slung sweatpants and sleep.

“Hey, sweetheart…” Satoru says quietly, jaw clenching. “You’re late.”

His hair’s a tousled mess—snow-white strands falling into the irises of his eyes—impossibly blue eyes that find you instantly. They glimmer, reflecting in the moonlight, tracing every inch of you; from your bare feet, to the bruise blooming on your collarbone.

Despite how his brows furrow, there’s a tenderness flickering beneath the exhaustion, etched in his expression. A reluctant sigh puffs into the cold air as he straightens, hands burrowing into his pockets. And your heart stutters the moment his lips part, finally asking the question you’ve been forever dreading:

“Guess I have no choice… ready to die tonight?”

ONE YEAR LATER

“Run sequence 3B again. Let’s overlay the thermal thresholds from yesterday’s test.”

Satoru exhales through his nose, fingers already moving. “Really?” he mutters, removing his glasses. As he flicks them off carelessly, his cerulean eyes narrow, hardening with disbelief. 

“It’s only been a day," he continues. "The last suit malfunctioned on thermal, I need more time, brother. It’s going to fail. Do you want it invisible, or just expensive?”

Behind him, Suguru’s footsteps echo on the lab’s vinyl floor. “You’re the genius brother, aren’t you?” he chides, smooth and smug. “So… make it both.”

Of course, both. It’s always both—with Suguru.

And Satoru, for all his brilliance, had never learned how to tell him no.

With swift, long fingers, Satoru repositions his glasses to the bridge of his nose, before clicking against the keyboard. The screen bleeds blue light against the tired lines of his face, with code spilling across the console—but Satoru doesn’t bother to look up. He knows the system better than he knows himself.

“Engaging phase shift,” he mutters. And a low hum fills the lab as he clicks multiple switches upward. “Thermal overlay in three… two…”

The chamber crackles. There's a mannequin centered in the testing alcove, and Suguru’s grin curls deviously as light bends, shimmering in waves through woven filament mesh.

“Matrix holding at 91.7 percent…”

With the hum deepening, the mannequin flickers—fading briefly. Suguru steps closer to the glass. “More,” he demands, and Satoru sighs, turning the intensity up. “92.1…”

Engines echo, and you can hear it now—a faint ticking, the scent of burning fabric. “92.7…” But there’s a strain in the core, glowing too bright. Veins pulse beneath the mannequin until—

Snap!

The crack is earsplitting, ricocheting through the lab. It's followed by a burst of white static and a flare exploding at the chest rig. With an inevitable break, the mannequin lurches in the harness, smoke curling toward the vents. And just as anticipated—

“Failed…” Satoru sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “I told you…” he mutters, already typing the diagnostic across the keys. “It’s a thermal bleed. The matrix destabilizes past ninety-two percent transparency and—”

“Excuses,” Suguru says, circling the test bay. His reflection ghosts across the glass as he stalks, footsteps echoing. “You’re telling me that you spend all this time chasing science, but the second something burns, it’s inevitable?”

Satoru purses his lips. “That’s how experimentation works, Suguru,” he says tightly. “Trial, error, and—”

“Failure,” Suguru finishes, almost gently. He stops beside him, peering down with a tilt of the head. “You mean failure, brother. And you know I don’t approve of failure. It’s been a year, how long is this suit going to take?”

His tone is light, but warning simmers beneath it. Satoru’s head lifts, the lab light striking his face at a harsh angle, catching the electric blue of his irises—turning them near-silver.

…this is how it’s always been.

There’s always a lesson tucked beneath Suguru’s words—a threat. Some cruel, invisible line he dares Satoru to cross, just to see if he will. And Satoru, no matter how many lines he’s drawn, has never managed to walk away from any of them.

“I’m building physics…” he says evenly. “Not fantasies.”

At that, Suguru shifts, turning toward the chamber. The scorched mannequin hangs limp in its cradle, the suit’s chest plate still aglow with fading heat.

His hand lists, fingers brushing the glass. “You call it fantasy…” Suguru murmurs, almost to himself. “But this suit—it isn’t fantasy, brother. It’s my… inevitability.”

Satoru tenses—he already knows where this is going.

“Brother…”

“This project—” Suguru turns, a chilling smile curling up his lips. “It’s proof that what’s unseen… can still exist. Just like her.”

With an exasperated groan, Satoru flicks off his glasses again. “Suguru…” he exhales, blue eyes swimming with grief, almost pleading. “Not this again… she’s dead. Do you not recall how I spent weeks keeping your name out of a homicide investigation? You need to accept it. Please.”

But Suguru only laughs—soft, joyless.

“Dead?” the violet hue of his eyes darkens. And with a tilt of his head, he studies Satoru—considering. “Let’s see… why was I drugged then, hm? And if she really died that night… why do I still dream of her?”

It's a conversation they'd had many times. An eerie silence settles between the brothers during their standoff, but Satoru remains composed, brows furrowing in faux desperation. Then, with a turn of his heel, Suguru returns to the glass.

“She’s out there. Hiding…” he murmurs, breath fogging as he leans in, gaze locked on the mannequin. “And when I find her…?”

The smile returns. Quiet. Terrible.

“I’ll still be here. Watching.”

‘LOCAL WOMAN DIES IN ESTATE FIRE.’

Satoru skims the headline glowing on his phone—an article he could recite by heart. The body was unrecognizable—charred to a crisp, too damaged for the naked eye. But the dental records matched, and so did the blood type.

News traveled fast. The coroner claimed it a tragedy. Suguru alleged it accidental. Authorities called it heartbreaking. But Satoru? He called it… convincing. And that was all it had to be.

Exhaling through his nose, his gaze scans the lab.

No signs of anyone…?

Perfect.

His thumb swipes to a different tab—a live video feed blinking into view. It’s a secret window he holds, peering into a secluded cabin swallowed by forest. And there you are. Peaceful. Curled on the bed.

His baby blues flick to the data below the video—biometric vitals synced from the surveillance system.

Pulse: 82. Breath: 14/min. Body temp: Normal.

No signs of elevated stress.

“Good girl…” he rasps, already palming himself through his slacks.

The feed reflects in the lenses of his glasses as you move across the screen. Once you reach for the hem of your shirt—

Oh.

He's leaning forward, ocean eyes darkening at the plush spill of your breasts. They jiggle as you tug the fabric off, with cold air hitting your perky, pebbling nipples.

“Mmm… lucky me,” Satoru whispers, pressing harder into the bulge beneath his belt.

God, you’re perfect.

He’s watched you like this a hundred times. Long before your “death.” Back when Suguru still called you his. At dinners. At parties. Within the walls of that sprawling, suffocating estate.

Satoru saw it all. Heard it all.

And he’d jerk off to it more times than he could count—your sweet, breathy moans. He’d be in his room, panting, groaning, sliding his slick hand all over his throbbing length. Emptying his load, spurting messy streaks of creamy cum to the thought of you, again and again—picturing your mouth around his dick. Picturing tearing Suguru’s throat out with his bare hands.

Oh. Shit. Maybe not that last one?

…maybe.

The office chair creaks as he leans back, stroking lazily over his pants while you stand. When you bend over, your shorts slide down your ass, dropping to the floor, and he swallows hard, throat bobbing.

Fuck.

There they are—those sweet, lacy panties.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he groans, unbuckling his belt with a trembling hand. “Now I have to…” The clink is loud. Risky. But his cock is already out—thick, flushed, jutting straight up, oozing a glimmering string of precum just from the sight of you.

And he’s playing a very… dangerous game right now—doing this in the lab.

But someone has to keep you safe. Someone has to watch. He wants to protect you.

His fingers curl around his shaft. “Ahhh… what are you up to… hm?” and he's entranced—groaning from the jiggle of your tits, the sway of your hips. He strokes from base to tip, shuddering as more spurts of creamy pre dribble down his swollen head, coating his knuckles in slick.

You’re his favorite fucking pastime.

Maybe… it’s become less about protection, and more about possession.

“My sweet girl… mnh…” with loud wet schlicks, Satoru's ragged breaths echo through the lab. He leans further back in the chair, pretty lips dropped in an 'O', captivated by you while he faps faster—like a horny pervert.

He shouldn’t be doing this. Not here. Not now.

If Suguru knew…

But Satoru groans, curling his palm over his fat head, squeezing it, rolling it. Maybe that’s what makes this better. He loves defying Suguru.

This has been his prison for years—watching, hiding, lying under his brother’s nose. Because really, that’s the only freedom Satoru has—isn’t it?

Scowling, Satoru lifts his hand, spitting into it before he drops it back down to his flushed, twitching cock. Suguru’s the only family he has, and he controls everything. Who they hire. Where the money goes. Whose names are signed in ink.

Hell, even who Satoru’s allowed to fuck.

“Fuck… that's it… mnh…” he whines, balls jiggling with every stroke as he watches you. God, he wants to fuck you so bad. Suguru didn’t treat you right—always controlling you, controlling Satoru—just as he does to all things that bastard claims to “love.”

Sometimes—he wants to put a bullet in his brother’s skull.

Fuck. No. Wait. He’s not a killer. He’s not like Suguru.

…right?

The thought fades as you slip into a familiar satin nightgown; the one he sent you, anonymously. “S-Shiiit…” he’s whimpering, body tensing, thumb rolling across his weeping head is lazy circles.

Oh, you naughty thing.

You know, don’t you? Know it came from him. You must. That’s why you wear it for him. And that thought makes his heart full and his dick even harder. You want him too, don’t you?

‘Satoru…’ you looked up at him with pleading eyes that night—the night he helped you fake your death.

You were so delicate; trembling, lip quivering. He wanted to kiss away every tear that fell onto your pretty face.

‘This is goodbye…’ you choked out, brows furrowing in sorrow. ‘I can’t thank you enough… what you’ve done for me. So… please. If you’ve ever cared for me, let me go. Suguru can’t know. I can’t see you again… it’s too risky.”

He bites his bottom lip in desperation, holding back more pathetic sounds, fapping harder—because… 

It’s not fair.

He does care.

He loves you.

That’s why he’s risked everything. Why he doctored the data. Lied through his fucking teeth. Why he’s told Suguru, countless times, the suit is failing—too volatile—when in truth, it’s ready. Hidden. Safe. The prototype is in the guesthouse, locked away and waiting for its first trial run.

“Mine..." he growls, pumping hard. "My sweet, pretty girl… you’re mine…” and the wet slick of his gliding hand rises as his release builds—filthy, obscene sounds echoing off the sterile lab walls. 

He's gonna bust.

"T-That's it baby..." he’s whimpering as you stretch, the gown clinging to your curves. "Sucha good girl... m'almost... fuck—fuuuck—" and with stuttering hips, he's thrusting up into his fist, chasing it, chasing you until—

Cum spills everywhere, erupting from his pulsing tip, shooting hot and creamy ropes that stripe across his clenched fist, his wrist, even the edge of the console. He's groaning through every spurt, and the lab lights buzz softly overhead, video feed flickering for a heartbeat before steadying again.

Utterly spent, Satoru slumps in his chair, chest heaving, hand twitching. Eyes fixed to the screen. To you.

And here’s the thing—

You said, you can’t see him ever again…

But… that doesn’t necessarily mean he can’t see you. 

Right?

He has to.

It’s a suit that erases presence. That sees without being seen. And he plans to use it. To make sure you stay safe. To make sure you stay his.

Oh. Maybe… obsession runs in the bloodline.

knock. knock!

The sound barely breaks through the hum of morning—birds chattering, leaves rustling against the cabin’s side. You’re groaning in bed, tangled under a slew of sheets. One arm is slung over your face as another sharp knock! follows, and with a tired whine, you fumble for your phone on the nightstand.

5:53 a.m.

God. Too early for anyone normal.

But clearly not for Jake.

knock, knock, knock!

Reluctantly, you drag yourself out of bed. The sheet slips off your thighs as you shuffle toward the door, still half-asleep and wearing the navy nightie Satoru gave you. Rubbing your eyes, the handle clicks open only to see—

“Good morninggg!!!”

Your UPS driver, grinning wide—too wide—practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. You blink, startled—not because it’s him (he’s the only person who ever shows up out here), but because no one should be that chipper during this ungodly hour.

“Special delivery~” he sing-songs, holding up a small parcel. His gaze flicks from your face… then somewhere lower. “Did I wake ya sleepin’ beauty?”

Wake you?

You blink at him, deadpan. Your hair’s a mess, your legs are cold, and your nipples are basically waving hello, pebbling from the morning breeze.

“Um… yeah,” you squint, lifting a hand to shield your eyes from the glare. “You realize it’s like… six a.m., right?”

“Yup!” he chirps. “Just figured I’d get a head start.” And when he hands you the box, your fingers brush—his lingering just a second too long. “Pluuus… didn’t want this one sittin’ in the truck all day. Says it’s fragile.”

…fragile?

Looking down, you glance at the label.

Vitamins.

…

“Uh-huh…” your brow lifts, skeptical. It’s not exactly a ticking time bomb. But he just flashes a knowing grin—like it might sell the excuse—and hums,

“Fragile stuff.”

You’re tucking the box under your arm, shivering from the crisp breeze. And his eyes are still on you… or more accurately, on the thin satin clinging to your chest.

Oh.

Suddenly, you feel bare—acutely aware of the way it presses into every dip and curve. You wish you’d grabbed a damn sweater.

“Right… well…” you shift, subtly angling your body, the box becoming a shield.  “Thanks. But next time, you can just leave it, yeah?”

As if on cue, the thin strap of your nightie slips down, exposing more skin. His eyes follow, throat bobbing.

“Sure…” he murmurs, lips curling slow. “I just… uh, figured it’s important to make sure everything’s okay out here. You’re pretty far from town, y’know? What gives?”

Tilting your head, your spine straightens. Okay… he’s giving you the creeps now. You don’t need anyone inquiring why you’re so far off the grid. Suguru’s still out there somewhere.

So, your polite smile sharpens at the edges.

“I manage fine,” you say sternly, tugging the strap back into place. But he doesn’t look away, doesn’t back off. “Yeah?” he hums, inching closer. “Betcha do…”

There’s something different in his tone now—lower, slower, like he’s savoring the words. His boot echoes on the wooden patio. Then another. Shifting instinctively, your back brushes the edge of the doorway.

“Must get reeeeeal quiet out here,” he continues, voice dipping like it’s some shared secret. And cradling the box tightly against your ribs, your fingers curl hard around its edge.

“…I like the quiet.”

“Yeah, sure,” he chuckles, taking a final step. When he stills, his eyes flick down your body, slow. “But it’s gotta get a little… y’know. Lonely.” With a smirk, his hands shove into his pockets, drawling. “S’pose a pretty girl like you’s gotta get creative now and then… keep yourself company… jus’ sayin, I wouldn’t mind—”

CRACK!

Without warning, the sound explodes like a gunshot—making you flinch, making a bird's wings flutter sharply, taking off in a nearby tree. Jake whips around, eyes wide, landing on his truck. And the shock melts into confusion.

Because there—nestled in the center of his spider-webbed windshield—is a fist-sized rock, glinting in the center of the shattered glass.

“W-What…” he breathes, stumbling back a step. “What the fuck—?!” and staring at the wreckage, you’re both momentarily speechless.

The forest stills; silence ringing loud, birds quieting, wind whispering—a sense of unease creeping through the space, curling up your spine. Because…

Do rocks fall from the sky?

“D-Did y’see that?!” Jake turns toward you again, mouth agape. “Was that—was that some kinda animal? Or... fuck—” he’s already descending the porch steps in a rush, one foot after the other in a clumsy half-sprint, muttering—

“Shitshitshit—my boss is gonna fucking kill me—what do I—”

whump!

Before he can finish, he’s going down. Hard. And the impact is ugly—face-first into gravel, blood smearing across his palms in a desperate effort to catch himself—groaning.

You shift the box in your arms. “Uh… you okay?” and Jake pushes himself up with a grunt. “Yeah… fuck… I just…”

But he doesn’t finish. Doesn’t meet your eye. There’s a beat of silence. The air feels… heavier. Still. Leaves rustling in the wind.

“…Jake?”

Turning his head, it’s like he’s listening for something—watching the trees, holding his breath. Then, shaking it off, he stumbles the rest of the way to his truck, half-limping, fingers fumbling for the door handle.

“Anyways, just—uh—lemme know if you need anything,” he mutters. “See ya around...”

And you nod as he slams the door—engine growling to life. The tires crunch over gravel, and you watch the truck until the taillights vanish into the trees. Gone.

Satoru saw red. He wanted to take that rock and slam it right across ‘Jake’s’ skull.

He’d fantasized about it the second he saw that shitty little truck roll up that gravel road. The second he heard his voice rise up from the porch, polite and chipper—like this man, this filth—had the right to even look at you.

Because, the gall?? The fucking audacity?!

‘Aren’t you lonely…?’

The words gnawed at him. Crawled in under his skin.

…maybe you were. Fuck—were you?

That thought—that truth—made something dark and wet unfurl inside him. He's watched you for the past year... and you don't touch yourself much.

From where he stood now, silent and invisible in the cabin’s corner, he could see you. Watched as you set the box on the counter. Poured yourself a glass of water with shaking hands. Rubbed at your arms like the chill had settled beneath your skin.

You looked so… delicate. So soft. So goddamn pretty.

And that nightie…

He swallows down a growl, trying not to let you hear as he palms at his growing cock through the suit. God, it’s not fair. He shouldn’t even be this painfully hard, not after how hard he’d already cum earlier, before arriving—fisting himself to the sound of your pretty voice on a random voicemail you left him years ago.

You moved across the cabin with a sleepy grace, padding across the wooden floors until you dropped on the bed, pulling your laptop open. The screen glow washed your skin in soft, pale blue. And Satoru could see your reflection in it—your brow furrowed; lips pursed in thought as you typed.

He tilts his head, a lazy, dangerous smile pulling at his mouth.

…what are you typing pretty girl? Why do you look so serious?

But as he creeped closer, the words on your screen came into focus and—

Google: vibrators for beginners

Satoru nearly choked on his own spit.

Oh.

Oh, baby.

He swallowed another groan, shuddering with restraint to just pin you to the bed, rip your clothes off and fuck you raw—right now.

Because you think a fucking toy is going to help? That some cheap little silicon thing could even come close to what he could do to you? Shit. The idea that you were in here, Googling how to fuck yourself?

Great. That asshole was right.

You were lonely. You were aching.

You’re navigating through the sex site, and just as the mouse hovers over 'Check out,' your hand moves—quick and dismissive—slamming the laptop shut with a groan as you bury your face in your hands, flustered.

Oh…. you poor, sweet thing.

God, it almost made him scowl. Because the thought of you curled up in bed, alone, fingers trembling as you tried to fill that sweet little cunt with something plastic and cold, something that wasn’t him.

No.

He’d make you feel so much better. Make you cry for it. Beg for it.

Taking a step closer, the air bends around his breath as he watches you, unseen—observing you tuck yourself under the blankets, trying to disappear from sheer embarrassment.

“Ridiculous…” you whine, muffling your face in the pillows, feet kicking against the mattress. “Ughhh… what am I even doing…?”

And something raw flickers in Satoru’s chest. Something protective, something…

Feral.

You deserved to feel good.

Miraculously, Jake never showed up at your doorstep again.

You’d love to think he finally learned how to just leave the damn package without ringing the bell at the ass crack of dawn—but more likely? His route changed. Or maybe he finally picked up on your extremely subtle cue of: not interested.

Still… it’s weird.

Because right around the time he vanished, you finally worked up the courage to order yourself a sex toy. Something small. Non-threatening. Beginner-friendly. A modest step toward reclaiming your sanity—one quiet, battery-powered orgasm at a time. Just a little pink peace offering from the gods of pleasure. But every time your inbox cheerfully announces:

Re: Thanks for shopping with us! Your delivery has arrived!

Nothing.

Just a sad, empty porch.

…what the hell?

The first time, you brushed it off (okay… maybe it’s delayed?) The second time, you thought, porch pirate?(Wait… porch pirates? Where? In these woods? Pfft. Unless the deer unionized, who the fuck is stealing your silicone rabbit?)

Ugh. By the third, it started to feel personal. Like the cosmos slapped a divine chastity lock on your fucking doorstep, tossing the key into the void.

C’mon now… it’s not fair. You weren’t asking for much. Right?!

So, you reached out to customer service (…bless their underpaid souls). They were sweet. Apologetic. Sent a replacement. Then another. Tossed in a free packet of lube for your troubles, which somehow made everything worse. (Cool. Now you had the lube… and nothing to lube.)

No package. No toy.

Poof. Vanished. Every goddamn time.

Fuck. At this point, you’re starting to think Jake’s out there somewhere, laughing his little UPS ass off with a growing collection of sex toys—holding them hostage like a pervy Santa Claus in the seventh circle of postal hell.

Is he that petty? Did he see “PleasureTech LLC” printed on the label and decided you don’t deserve happiness?

God. Clearly—clearly—the universe has decided you don’t get to cum.

Which is rude, honestly. But what’s weirder? It’s not just the mail.

Lately, things have been… off.

It’s little things. Doors creaking open even when you know you closed them. Furniture shifting—chairs nudged a few inches left, cabinet doors half-cracked open. There was a blanket you swear you left folded on the couch, and it’s now draped over the armrest. Plus, a coffee mug’s sitting in the sink that you don’t remember using.

But clearly, it’s nothing. Cabin brain. Isolation hallucinations. The natural byproduct of living in the woods for a year with no one but your anxiety, your leftover trauma for company, and the lack of a mind-shattering orgasm.

Hell, you’re so horny, sometimes you imagine hearing Satoru’s voice… hearing his pretty moans…

Yeah, you’re losing it.

Satoru’s not here. He agreed you’d never see him again. He helped you vanish. Gave you everything: a new name, a remote cabin in the woods, an untraceable phone, and enough prepaid cards to keep you fed and clothed until you die of boredom.

Your brows furrow.

God… you miss him. Miss him so much, that apparently, you’re hearing him in your head. Surely, you need to get out more… and you could leave, sure. No one’s stopping you. Except the fact that out there in the real world, Suguru still exists. And if he finds you?

No thanks. You’d rather take your chances with horniness and a haunted cabin.

Which says a lot. Probably too much.

A vibrator would’ve helped though. Just sayin’.

Satoru feels like an asshole for denying you your toys. He knows it’s selfish. Knows you’ve spent hours refreshing that 'delivery confirmed' email, wondering where the fuck they could’ve gone.

And look. It’s not like he wants to be the villain in your personal pleasure saga, but god—it’s the principle. Okay?! He just… can’t let you have that. Can’t stand the idea of something buzzing between your thighs, making you sigh, making you arch, making you cum—without it being him.

It’s pathetic. Cruel, even.

Because it’s not like he can fuck you either. Not when you don’t even know he’s here. Not when you can’t seehim. Touching you while invisible?! Shit. Even he has a line, and that would shatter whatever thin, flickering morality he’s still pretending he has left.

So no—he doesn’t touch you.

But himself? Oh, that’s fair game.

Which is why his zipper’s undone, cock bobbing, hanging heavy from his suit. (And of course he designed the prototype this way—why wouldn’t he? He’s nothing if not a man of incredible foresight and terrible self-control.)

He tells Suguru he’s running diagnostics. That the suit’s overheating. That the quantum lattice needs recalibration. (It doesn’t.)

What he really does is sneak off into the woods, fire up the prototype, and find you—every day.

Now, wet schlicks echo in the dark cabin while he’s looming over your sleeping form like some, horny, panting ghost. Only his dick is visible while he languidly strokes it—imagining your lips stretched wide, drool slipping down your chin as you choke so sweetly on him.

“My good girl…” he croons, hips twitching as he inches closer. “Wanna stuff that pretty mouth full of cock…” his thumb smears the weeping tip, groaning. “Fuck your throat ‘til you're crying all over me… mnh…”

And you’d look so perfect—eyes wide and glassy, drool slicking down your chin as you gag on every prodding inch. He’d shove all of it down, feeling your muffled moans against his shaft while he devours you equally—tongue buried in your sweet little cunt, slurping and lapping at your folds.

While his hand moves faster, your lips part in a sleepy sigh, and he's biting back every filthy groan threatening to spill from his lips, because it's so fucking unfair.

It would be easy—so easy, to kneel over you, weight dipping into the mattress as he slaps and rubs his cock all over your pretty face—guiding that sweet mouth open and finally letting you choke on it. He's lost in that fantasy until—

"N-No..." you sob in your sleep, making his hand still mid-stroke. With furrowing brows, you whimper, "P-Please... don't... Suguru..."

And it's like a bucket of ice dumps over him at the sound of that name. Satoru heaves, eyes wide, taking in the sight of your trembling form, of the small, broken sounds escaping your lips. It guts him because—

That asshole…

He hates seeing you like this, so he's immediately dropping to his knees, whispering reassurance. "Hey, hey..." and cradling your face, his thumb brushes your cheek reverently. "Baby... sweetheart, what's wrong? Hm? You okay?"

But you’re whimpering, head turning, hands clutching the blanket tighter as if fighting off something only you can see. And when Satoru sees the tears sliding down your temple—that’s it. He’s immediately rising.

“Shhh…” the mattress dips under his invisible weight as he crawls in behind you. “Hey, hey, hey now…" he murmurs, voice breaking. "What’s goin’ on, love?” 

But you just keep trembling. Keep choking out broken pleas of “Stop…” and “No…”

And damnit… 

Satoru hesitates for a long moment before finally deciding—

Fuck it.

Finding the seam of his suit's mask, he's tugging it off, letting cool air flood his damp skin when he rips it away—thrown aside like it never mattered.

Vivid blue eyes drink you in. Your body curled and shaking. Your breath ragged. He's equally wrecked, sweat clinging to snowy hair, plastered to his forehead. But without another thought, he pulls you into him.

At first, your body jerks from the contact—but he gathers you gently against his chest, arms wrapping around your middle, one leg between yours, his face burying into your hair. And the tremors ease as he's cooing. 

"Shhh... you're okay... please don't cry..." with soft lips, tracing shushing kisses along your shoulder. "M'here... s'okay. It's a dream, baby. Just a dream..."

God... you smell so good. He's missed feeling you. And as your heartbeat slows, your breath evening—his chest aches with longing, because… 

You really are so, alone.

And despite how much you’ve suffered, still—your being here is proof. You keep fighting, don’t you?

He loves you so much.

Your breath slows, stabilizing. "That's it..." Thumbs rub your hips, fabric bunching beneath his fingers. His breath shudders before pressing a reverent kiss below your ear. "That's my good girl..." he rasps, all honey and ache, placing another at the slope of your shoulder. 

But the second you sigh, soft and slurred... 

“Satoru…”

It stops his breath cold.

Because your voice—sleepy, trembling—saying his name like a secret, like it belongs to you??

His dick gives an encouraging jerk in response, oozing against the curve of your ass, making him choke on air.

Oh. Shit.

He didn’t even think. His dick’s still out—bare, visible—hardening once again, just from the sound of you, the press of you. He needs to move, but—

You're moving first. A soft moan slips from your lips as you shimmy back, ass wiggling perfectly against his cock. And he grits, "Oh, ffffuck..." forehead dipping to your shoulder with a shudder.

Panting, blue eyes flick down, at the sight of his fat cock jutting against your perfectly plush ass, with gooey precum dripping from his slit… making a puddle all over your thin, lacy panties. The sight makes him shake.

This is bad. Real bad.

He’s gripping your hips, trying to find his morality. “Wait… fuck…” he whispers a whine, voice cracking with restraint. “You’re killin’ me baby. I can’t—can’t do this…”

But even as his brain begs him to stop, his hips jerk forward in a slow rolling push. Ok… so, maybe, just one thrust? He thinks. Mnn... one more? And the bed’s creaking beneath you as he ruts against the soft give of your body, entranced in the way your ass molds to him, burying his cock in the enticing fat.

It’s addicting.

“Mnnh… yesss...” he hisses, eyes fluttering shut. You’re sleeping peacefully while he humps you like a sinner—biting his lip to keep quiet, holding your hips steady. “M-m'sorry.… so sorry... feel s’good…”

And soon, each lazy grind turns harder, needier. He’s leaking all over your panties because he can’t stop imagining it—how your cunt would feel if he just slipped inside, if he filled you up raw, if you woke up while he was already balls-deep, flooding you with cum.

But nonono—get it together! 

Control yourself, Satoru!! 

Just as he stills, heaving, swallowing, finally gathering what's left of his sanity—you shift again, and now he's trapped. Because oh, you... you naughty thing. 

His drooling dick becomes sandwiched between your plush thighs, feeling your hot, slick dripping from your soaked little cunt, drenching your panties, drenching him and—

Satoru Gojo sees stars.

"Oh god, s-sweetheart..." he chokes out, voice strangled. "Y-you're not helping... nngh..." and giving in, his hands push underneath your nightie, exploring—groping your tits as he cups them greedily.

Soft, sleepy moans leave your lips as his thumbs brush your nipples, his face burying into your neck while he grinds against your clothed clit. 

He’s fighting every urge to break you on his dick, because it’s so pretty, those sweet, desperate sounds. He knows. You poor, poor thing… you need it so badly, don’t you? Even in your dreams.

“Oh baby…” he nips gently at your neck, hips twitching, dick jerking, spurting more dribbles of precum. “Fuck, I can’t stay away from you…”

“Want…” the words escape you in a whimpering slur, eyes still closed, brows furrowing. “Mnh… S-Satoru…” 

And that does it. Something snaps within him. 

It’s something primal. Something dark. Something… filthy.

He’s yanking your panties to the side like they’re in the way of salvation. “Oh, babygirl… m’right here—fuck—right here…” and as his blue eyes take in your puffy little cunt, wet and hot and waiting—he’s gone. 

Fingers run through your glistening folds, and the sweet little mews slipping from those dreamy lips fill him with smug satisfaction.

“Awh… my needy girl…” he hums against your ear, low, taunting. “What’s this… hm?” and with shuffling sheets, his dick lines up to your pussy. “It was so… mean of me to hide your toys…” he groans, circling his head around your tiny hole. “B-but… I’ll make it up to you… yeah? J-just lemme… mnnnh—"

The words are breaking into filthy moans as the swollen tip of his dick stretches into the tight, suctioning heat of your soaked pussy—just the tip, barely an inch. Because right as he’s doing it, he realizes what he’s doing.

Fuck—what the fuck is he doing?!

This is the line he said he wouldn’t cross. But now your sopping cunt is dripping all over him, clenching like it already knows him—and every ounce of reason goes straight to his dick.

No… he has to stop. It’s not right. Despite how much he wants to take you, claim you, ruin you on every thick, aching inch of him.

But before he can retreat, you’re already stirring against him, mumbling whimpers—and now, panic rolls in.

Oh fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.

He’s realized now—you wake up? He’s fucked. Utterly fucked. Because his mask—

He left his mask off.

Great. He didn’t mean to go this far. He just wanted to comfort you, stop you from crying. But now, his face is visible, his cock is out, and you’re waking up with your legs spread while he’s here, shooting precum into your tiny hole.

Abort!

“Mmm… w-wha—” you murmur, lashes fluttering. And Satoru holds his breath while you blink down, disoriented, freezing at the sight of—

…a dick?

Nestled between your legs? Flushed, thick, twitching? You can feel it pulsing there, throbbing faintly, radiating heat against the mess slicking your folds, breaching an inch in your velvety walls.

There’s nothing else.

No body. No shadow. Because Satoru’s face is buried where you can’t see it, and the rest of his body remains invisible. Your brows furrow in sleepy confusion, and in your horny, half-lucid mind, the only explanation that makes sense is—

Oh.

The universe finally decided you get to cum.

A miracle. A gift from the gods. A manifestation of divine will sent straight to your pussy.

“It’s here…” you gasp, grinding slightly, testing the weight, the stretch, and Satoru chokes, hands gripping your hips like a lifeline. 

Don’t do that. God don’t do that. He’s gonna lose it.

“Anhh…” but as you slide down to the hilt, his body jolts, biting his lip, muffling his moans. Your cunt swallows him whole, and rocking your hips, you breathlessly moan: 

“F-Fuck… it came…” squelches echo as your sweet juices coat him. “M-my toy finally came…” 

Toy?

Satoru snarls; now you’re asking for it.

Driving forward, he grips your hips bruisingly, and he’s gone. Thrusting into you like a man possessed, pounding you like you’re his toy.

“Bad fuckin’ girl—ahhh—fuck, baby…” he pants, unhinged, bullying your touch-starved cunt. “You want your…mnh.. t-toy? Naughty slut… this what you want? Ugnn…”

The bed creaks, headboard slamming the wall as his cock pistons in and out of you, wet and obscene. And you’re a mess—gasping, whining, pliant beneath him. Every thrust rocks through you, your tits bouncing, ass clapping back against him.

“Ffffuck… look at you,” he groans, watching where he rams into you, hungry eyes admiring your jiggling ass. “Needy little thing—take it—take it like that, that’s it…”

You don’t know what’s happening—something unseen fucking you senseless, and clearly, you’re loopy, conjuring Satoru’s voice. Whatever it is, you’re just thanking the universe for granting you with the privilege of finally being fucked.

Satoru’s cock pistons in and out of your soaked, trembling heat, and he can’t stop watching. Watching the way your belly bulges, watches the way your pussy drips, squelching with each thrust. It’s like you were made for him to hump into, made for him to breed. His balls are slapping against you, churning with a thick load that he’s aching to release. Because the image of you—

Round and pregnant? 

Perfect.

You’d be his, forever.

He doubles up. “Gonna fuckin’ fill you up, baby,” and rasping, his thrusts grow sharper, meaner. “And you’re gonna fuckin’ take it, right? Gonna—mmnh—put a baby in y-you…”

The bed is shaking, and an invisible pressure pins you still—grasping your tit with one hand, rubbing tight circles along your clit with another. You moan, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each brutal roll of his hips, and finally—finally—release crashes through you.

“F-Fuck—fuck—I’m—cumming—”

While your cunt sucks him, he bites your neck, snapping into you relentlessly as your body convulses. Slick pours out of your tiny hole, creamy and hot, coating his cock in a white ring—and Satoru shudders, laughing breathlessly into your throat.

“Ahhh—there it is—there’s my angel… fuckin’ milk me—yeah, good fuckin’ girl—”

Nonsense is babbling out of your overstimulated and wrecked mind, but Satoru keeps going. Panting, grunting, whimpering. “Shit—s-shiiit—" He’s chasing his own release, cock pistoning wildly inside your spasming cunt until he chokes out—

“M’gonna—fffuck yes—take it—!"

And then it hits—thick spurts of hot cum flooding your cunt, filling you to the brim. He’s groaning through gritted teeth, spilling deep, holding you still as his body convulses with each pulse—warm, messy, claiming.

When he stills, the bed creaks, the sound of your combined panting filling the air. An oozing warmth spreads between your legs, and blinking down at your abused little hole, that dick is buried inside you—creamy cum leaking, pushing out from the sheer amount, dribbing down the slowly softening shaft.

Oh.

Do toys… cum?

The invisible weight pressing against your body begins to release—but… the sound, the feel of panting breath, it’s warm and real—ghosting the side of your throat. And turning your head slowly, that’s when you see them.

Vivid, electric blue eyes, half lidded, staring back at you.

Oh shit.

Maybe you have lost it. Conjuring the head—and the dick—of the man you love out of thin air? You really do need to get out more.

But when he stammers, “U-Uh… I-I…” snowy lashes fluttering, caught between guilt and disbelief. You realize you might not be as crazy as you believed.

“Hi sweetheart…” he whispers, brows softening in tenderness. “Please don’t panic. I—uh… I can explain?”

A storm of emotions unraveled after reuniting with Satoru—relief, disbelief, confusion, and something darker. Twisted. Addictive.

Because yes, a part of you knew you should be concerned. The man had been watching you, shadowing your every move, hiding in plain sight. He’d stolen your sex toys, scared off your UPS driver, sabotaged your pleasure, and lived like a ghost in your home.

But the other part of you—the part that still flinches at the memory of Suguru’s voice, the bruising grip of his fingers, the way he made you question your own sanity?

Nah. You’re not afraid of Satoru.

Compared to Suguru, Satoru’s an angel. He would never hurt you. He’d go to hell and back for you—tear down the world with his bare hands if it meant keeping you safe. He already has.

And Suguru…?

Well, after your “death,” Satoru filled you in on the aftermath. How Suguru’s been spiraling—dangerous, volatile, unraveling. And for once, you were grateful for the isolation. Grateful you’d laid low. But as fear crept in… along with worries that Suguru would catch out, Satoru only pulled you closer, whispering promises like a prayer.

‘He won’t find you. I’ll make sure of it. You’re safe… I promise.’

And you trust him. 

It’s risky, this game you’re both playing. But you’re not mad… not really. You’ve yearned for him too. If anything, you’re flattered.

And, truthfully? A little turned on.

So now, there’s a delicious thrill you feel every time he leaves the cabin. You feel a bit… bolder. Because let’s be honest—he deprived you. Stole your orgasms, left your toys malfunctioning and useless, all while he could’ve been inside you. Ruining you properly. Marking you as his.

So yeah… maybe he deserves to suffer a little. Juuust enough to make him squirm.

And you do make him squirm.

It becomes a game—stretching naked in the cabin, fingers dancing up your thighs, moaning his name like a challenge. You know he’s watching. You know he’s listening.

And he is unforgiving.

Sometimes you feel him before you see him—warm breath at your neck when you’re alone by the window. A door left ajar. The air shimmering behind the wardrobe.

Other times, he’s punishing.

Shoving you to your knees in the hallway, fist tangled in your hair as he fucks your throat. Or bending you over the kitchen table, plates clattering as he pounds into you from behind, growling filth against your ear.

“Bad fuckin’ girl… teasing me…” he snarls, hand cracking against your ass. “You wanna act like a slut? I’ll treat you like one.”

And you love it.

You’ve become his obsession, his punishment, his sanctuary.

And he’s become yours.

Even in his absence, you ache for him. He clings to you like static—like smoke—like the phantom touch you can never shake.

So tonight, you wait. Sitting by the fireplace, curled on the couch as rain beats heavy outside, rattling the windows. The clock ticks slow, and he’s late. Longer than usual. But… he’s always busy. Always overworked. Always pushing himself too hard for your sake.

Despite that reality being nothing new, you still can help but think—

It’s not… fair.

He’s given you freedom. Protected you. 

And surely… he deserves that freedom too. Doesn’t he?

You sigh, tracing idle circles on your knee. And that’s when the door creaks open, making your lips curve into a smile. Because finally—finally—he’s here.

“’toruuuu…” you croon, tilting your head back against the couch. “Took you long enough. I missed you…”

…

Silence.

There’s only silence as the fire pops sharply beside you, a log splitting open with a hiss. The rain seems louder now—thicker, heavier against the windowpane.

But you wait.

“…Satoru?” you call again, a little louder, lighthearted. “C’mon, I—” you force a laugh, shaking your head. “I—um… really just need you to hold me tonight. Please?”

Nothing.

Glancing at the door, it’s open—barely. A thin gust of wind pushes through, rustling the curtains. And your brows furrow… because there’s no shimmer of light, no distortion in the air, none of the subtle static you’ve learned to recognize when he’s cloaked and near.

Just… quiet.

A kind that makes your skin prickle, that makes a chill crawl up your spine as you straighten in your seat—eyes scanning the shadows of the room.

And that’s when you see it. Near the door, water drips. A soft, steady beat on the wooden floor. A puddle, spreading. Rain trailing in thick ribbons from the threshold.

Ah. He is here. 

He must be soaked from the rain.

But why is he fucking with you tonight? Usually, when you tell him you’re not in the mood, that’s all it takes for him to stop.

“…‘toru?” you murmur, rising to your feet, stepping closer. “God… there you are. You could’ve—”

BANG!

The door slams shut, rattling the frame and you jump. Your heart’s in your throat as the wooden floor creaks, heavy footsteps echoing closer.

And then a voice—low, taunting. Familiar but off. Like it’s, twisted.

“Missed me, sweets?”

Everything goes downhill from there. You swear you’re going to die. Not quickly. Not painlessly. Not even violently.

But slowly—like a rot that starts in your mind and eats its way out, strip by strip, until nothing’s left but a girl you don’t even recognize anymore.

“Awhh… see?” Suguru croons, like this is some warm reunion and not a fucking home invasion, “I’m right, aren’t I? You did miss me.”

The coffee table crashes into your leg as your feet scramble back, slipping on the rug. The force makes your mug shatter—porcelain and tea and panic all over the floor while your heart beats through your ribs.

“D-Don’t—don’t come any closer—” you cry, arms raised. “Go away, Suguru. P-Please, just… leave me alone.”

But begging never worked on him. Not when it counted. And you know—deep down—you’ve never been safe from him.

“Oh, babygirl…” he clicks his tongue, mock disappointment curling across his smile. “What’s this, hmmm?” his boots thud, slow and steady. “You’ve gotten so jumpy. Satoru should’ve known…” he drawls, though there’s a sour twist to his voice now. “Hiding you wouldn’t work forever.”

The footsteps stop, and you freeze—breath caught, eyes darting around the room—measuring distance, weighing your options.

A lamp. The drawer with the scissors. A window. The door.

It’s quiet. Still.

Too quiet.

Then he lunges.

With desperation, you shove the coffee table toward him, glass sliding and crashing. He catches it mid-motion—snarling, sending it skidding aside as you bolt for the counter.

A weapon. You need a weapon.

Fingers fumble for something, anything. A bottle, a plate, god, you don’t care—anything to use. But he’s fast. Too fast. Because he grabs your hair, pulling you down, making you cry out. And you’re fighting like your life depends on it—screaming, kicking, flailing in an attempt to find him, to push him away.

“Fucking brat…” he hisses, dragging your body by your hair across the floor. “Thought you could get away from me? Why do you keep making me have to do this?”

You twist, flail, your hands clawing at the floorboards—anything to slow him down. And with sheer luck, your elbow slams backward, landing square against his gut. He grunts, loosens for just a breath—

And you run.

Adrenaline carries you, bare feet slapping against wood as you pant, sprinting down the hallway. You don’t look back. You can’t. Hell, you don’t even know if he’s right behind you or not. But as you throw yourself into the bedroom, slamming the door shut with force, his boot wedges into the frame right before it closes.

“Fucking bitch!” he roars, hurling his body at the door as you press your entire weight against it, sobbing, bracing with your shoulder and palms, shaking like a leaf. “I’ve loved you!! I’ve always fucking loved you!!”

The doorknob rattles violently. The hinges shriek—and you try, desperately, pushing back with everything you have.

“Come onnnn, sweetheart~” he croons through the narrow slit, voice syrupy and warped. “You know you can’t hide from me forever. I just wanna talk—just wanna see you, that’s all.”

You’re going to die.

“Stop! Please—just stop!” you sob, voice cracking. “You fucking did this,” he snarls, and the door lurches open, inch by inch, fingers slipping through—because he’s strong. Too damn strong. You brace for it to give way completely until—

Gurgling. 

Wet. Deep. A choking sound, followed by a staggered breath—then—

Stillness.

The pressure against the door falters, and you freeze—hands trembling on the knob as a series of dull, meaty thuds echo from the other side of the wood.

Again… then again… then again…

Something thumps. Slides. A final, wheezing exhale—and then—

…

Quiet.

A silence so complete, it roars in your ears—broken only by the relentless hammering of rain on the roof, the thundering pulse in your ears, and the soft, squelching noise of something being dragged across the floor.

You don’t breathe. Don’t move.

Because who—what—is on the other side?

Please… let it be—

With a shuddering breath, you reach—turning the lock. The door creaks open slowly, inch by inch, hinges groaning in protest as you peer into the hallway—eyes wide, bracing for the worst, bracing for him to lunge again. But instead—

Satoru.

He stands just beyond the threshold, drenched in rain and blood. Hair plastered to his forehead, white strands dripping crimson. His chest heaves and his eyes are wide—wild—but focused. Crystal blue and sharp enough to cut.

At his feet, the invisibility suit lies, half-shattered, wires sparking weakly across Suguru’s twisted body. A knife glints faintly in Satoru’s hand, flicking under the hallway light.

You’re stumbling forward. “S-Satoru…” voice quivering. A relieved exhale quakes out of you, and the knife slips from his hand, clattering to the floor. “H-Hey,” he rasps, voice raw, torn. “It’s… it’s me.”

Before you can think, you’re moving—crashing into his chest. He catches you like instinct, like gravity itself, his arms wrapping around you so tightly it almost hurts. You feel the tremor in him, the way his own breath shudders. 

“I thought—” your voice breaks. “I know.” His lips press to your temple. Fingers weave into your hair as he holds you close. “I’m sorry. So sorry… I tried to come sooner.”

Shaking your head, you press your face further into his soaked shirt, clinging to him like he’s the only thing tethering you to this earth.

His grip tightens. “I… didn’t mean for this to happen,” he whispers, voice unsteady. “But I couldn’t let him have you. Not again.”

As the words rumble against you, your breath trembles—and pulling back, your eyes flicker down to Suguru’s lifeless body. The color draining from his face.

A man that made your life a living hell. Dead.

You’re… free?

And Satoru—both of you.

Free.

“…what do we do with him?” you whisper. 

Satoru doesn’t answer at first. Rain drips from his jaw, tracing down the curve of his throat, pooling where blood still clings to his collar. His shoulders rise and fall slowly, like he’s remembering how to breathe.

And when he finally—finally speaks—the simplicity of the words, the truth of the words… make you blink.

“Oh… it’s fine…” he murmurs softly. “I’ll just… uh. Bury him next to Jake. Yeah?”

a/n. thanks for checking out this crazy ass fic! this was a real challenge for me. like... way, WAAAY out of my comfort zone, aha. but it's fun to try something new and somno is like... my guilty pleasure 🙂‍↕️ don't be judging meeee 😭 happy kinktober ya'll. also, m'sorry to my suguru girlies with this one 💕

[lilacxquartz]

UNSHACKLED, part 2;

younger jinichi zenin x f!reader (x toji)

plot: forced to marry into the zenin clan to escape poverty, you get involved in something far more sinister instead.

a/n: finally managed to complete this!! this was a fun one to write! thank you to the anon who requested it — cw: nothing for this chapter, but the previous one has some upsetting themes • based on this ask • previous chapter • masterlist • on ao3

It only took you becoming trapped again to realise that the only choice left was to move forward. You simply didn’t have the option to wait around for a second longer—not with how things were heading, anyway.

No, you had to figure out how to get away from Jinichi once and for all—before he took his obsession with keeping you safe to a whole new, dangerous level—potentially risking your life. After all, that’s how such things would often go, right? A person who was committed to violence would rarely make an exception, and if they did, then it risked potentially becoming worse as time went on.

However, with your social status fully restored, you had selective freedom again. For example, you still had to attend the clan meetings, as did Jinichi, but if it was truly up to him, he wouldn’t let you leave the home at all. It was the clan elders demanded it, though, so that everyone was up to date. Jinichi only didn’t argue with this measure, because he was determined to keep the peace. That was it, nothing more.

Upon arriving at the clan hall to oversee the latest meeting, it seemed different that time. It felt charged, as if something wasn’t quite right about it. There was more tension in the air than normal. Usually, a clan meeting would involve bringing about minor changes or approving someone’s companion status or resolving petty familial politics, but this seemed closer to a trial. Not for you, thank god, but someone from within the family itself—a Zenin—was under investigation.

The details as to what he had done were unclear, but even Jinichi seemed to be frustrated on the matter. He had his arms crossed as he watched on with a narrowed stare, tapping his foot in annoyance. You didn’t say anything, but he did, letting slip of a “Damn it, Toji,” from under this breath.

Your head tilted as you listened in, going as far as to lean in closer. Something about a Zenin being ostracised was an attention-grabber for you, because if they were potentially being banished—as it was discussed—then that could also mean a way out for you, right?

That much surely wasn’t too big of a pipe dream, was it? You deserved to make your own choices in life—especially because this marriage alone was fixed from the start. Any window to love Jinichi back had long closed, because if he wanted genuine affection, then he should never have raised a hand at you.

As the trial went on, you learned more about Toji. You learned that not only was he Jinichi’s younger brother, but also that he couldn’t use cursed energy—just like you. As a result, he was seen as the family burden even as a child. This mention alone caused any remaining hope for your offspring to dwindle, because what kind of a future was that, to be outcasted in your own home?

Though, as your focus became too centred, you had to look away before Jinichi caught on. He was a horrendously jealous man, after all, and that made him dangerous. The safety of carrying your pregnancy out to full term was a mere fraction of the obsession that he felt for you, but otherwise, his fixation was closer to keeping you in line. This was demonstrated heavily in how you presented yourself. He would make comments specifically on your looks, your potential naivety, and on how your existence alone could be construed as lustful. All in all, it felt like you had to walk on eggshells to exist with him, and even then, it was barely like living at all.

You learned to stay quiet and stare at the ground for most matters, and became an expert on telling people apart by the natural lean of their gait instead—through the confidence of their strides. You learned how to smile and nod but never question or challenge another man, save for your assigned midwife, when it came to talking to anyone else, and even then, it was only a matter of time before your child was born, and she, too, would disappear.

Under that notion, however, a new idea sprang into mind. The meeting had just ended, and Jinichi was being held up with another man. Toji, in the meantime, had managed to slip away just out of sight, but you saw exactly where he went. Just after a minute or so had passed, you had the initiative to try and seek permission to cross into the servant’s quarters, to where your midwife likely was, to hopefully catch the attention of your potential way out.

“It isn’t anything to concern yourself over,” you replied to Jinichi, upon him asking you for your reasoning to leave his sight. You kept your voice controlled so as not to let slip anything other than just a mundane check-up. “Just a couple of questions to see if there’s anything I should be doing. Is that so bad?”

Jinichi narrowed his eyes, unable to keep himself from being sceptical, but his combined concern—both for you as well as the baby’s—ultimately won out in the end. His shoulders drooped, but his fists clenched. “Go then,” he allowed, “but you will be back as soon as you have what you need to know – don’t you dare make me worry.”

You nodded and offered him a short, curt smile, and before he could change his mind, you were out of the door and across the estate, charging into the quarters before slipping out of the back. You saw the outcast—Toji—lurking around nearby and knew that you had to somehow get his attention, but the idea of doing so made you freeze up. This was a man who potentially held the key to your escape, and yet the idea of approaching him gave you pause. He was a Zenin, right? What if his intentions were the same as everyone else who lived here? Then again, if he truly hated the systematic oppression of the clan as much as he had claimed—given his stance in the interrogation—then it shouldn’t be that difficult an ask.

After all, he joked a little too much about being the deadweight of the clan, so he must have been at the very least, aware of his position. Somehow, such self-reflection built up trust within you, and you found yourself drawn to him in a way that rivalled Jinichi. A surge of guilt washed through you at that thought, though, because Jinichi, as cold and violent as he was, was far from the worst here. He was stoic, strict, and firm, but he seemed to love you. Though he also hit you. Your mind wandered some more. Would Toji be the same?

Your breath caught again. What was with this unrequited fantasising? Were you that starved of intimacy that a man whom you hadn’t even spoken to yet was who you were pining after? Someone who dared to offer the bare minimum? Was that how low you had fallen?

Though you supposed that sort of crush could be allowed. It was just another thing to keep you sane in the end.

Just as suddenly as you lost yourself to your thoughts, however, you were startled out of them. The voice came in deep, but soft, laced with light concern. “You okay there? Lost?”

You flinched, gasping out as you took a step back. “N-no, I’m just—” you tried to reply, but months of being conditioned not to talk back to men had you second-guessing yourself. You hated the feeling. “I—” you tried once more, but found yourself clutching at your stomach, bracing for a potential impact.

The voice scoffed. “Seriously?”

You allowed yourself to blink up, sighing but also gulping that it was the person you tried to get in contact with. You tried to say something again, but it all fell short, leaving you choking on empty silence. This seemed to annoy him.

“Alright,” he continued, giving you a second to breathe. “What unlucky fuck are you wed to?” he asked, glancing over the ring on your finger.

“J-Jinichi?” you almost whimpered out.

Another scoff escaped his lips, but his annoyed stare softened into concern. “Unlucky girl,” he murmured, “not the worst, but not the best either. Wait,” he then caught, “you’re the chick he got into trouble for, right?”

Your eyes widened slightly as you looked away. “Y-yes…”

“Interesting, interesting,” Toji nodded along, taking a deep breath. He looked around himself, looking equally cautious. Maybe it was that he didn’t want to cause any unnecessary trouble, especially given that he wasn’t on the greatest of terms with his clan. “I’ll keep it short then. Why are you following me?”

“I’m not—” you backpedaled.

“—You must be,” he quickly corrected you, “because otherwise you wouldn’t be here, now would you?” he asked. “Now spill it, what do you want from me? Did Jinichi put you up to this? He want something before I fuck off forever? If it’s money, then he’s just as shit out of luck as I am.”

You shook your head. “N-no!” you blurted out, trying to save face. “I-I… It’s different. It’s actually maybe silly now that I think about it, but..”

As you trailed off, steeling yourself for the question that you were so desperate to ask, Toji took the liberty to look around and ensure that nobody else was eavesdropping. You could tell from the slight huff and tick of his lip—from his crossed arms—that he found the way you took forever to get your point as annoying. Then again, he was also acting very patient. So maybe he understood your predicament perfectly well.

Finally, you got the question out. “You’re going to be banished, right?”

Toji smiled, flashing his teeth at you. “Nah, I’m voluntarily leaving, or at least that’s what I said a month ago,” he replied, “they held me up since then, telling me they’ll exile me next, but only under their terms. Fucking clan poltiics and its easily wounded pride. They just couldn’t handle me retaining my ego. I’ll be better off without all of this bullshit.”

“C-can you take me with you?” you asked flat out, or rather, blurted.

The question hung in the air for longer than you would have liked as Toji paused, trying to determine if you were being genuine or not.

“Take you with me?” he repeated in a quiet mumble. He considered it for a second, taking in the sight of your pregnancy-swollen stomach. Technically, he could. The more people that leave this forsaken place, the better. “How soon are you due?” he then asked in a more level tone.

“In about… two or three months?” you guesstimated. “Is it doable?”

Toji clicked his tongue and shrugged, not outright denying you, but trying to keep realistic at the same time. “Anything’s doable, and I can’t blame ya for wanting to get out. Knowing my stingy brother, he probably doesn’t let you do anything, huh?”

You reluctantly nodded. “Y-yeah, I mean, he thinks I’m talking to our midwife right now, so it’ll be any second that he realises that I’m not there…”

Toji’s cheek then twitched as if expecting him to round in on him around the corner, but luckily, such a confrontation wasn’t in his cards just yet. He did, however, know that he had to be quick before something of the sort became a reality. He wanted to help you—to save an unknowing life from being born into this whole mess, but time was of the essence. If either of you wanted to do it right, then it had to be immediate. “What a miserable man he’s become…” he trailed off, concluding his thoughts, “he wasn’t always like this, but this place just does something to you.”

You were about to open your mouth to ask if he was going to help you, but then Toji spoke again.

“He’s a deep sleeper, as you’ve probably noticed,” he considered, “his technique is all brute strength, so he sleeps like a rock.”

“Right,” you replied.

“Yeah, so you should be able to sneak out at night,” Toji suggested. “Meet me right here at around midnight, and I’ll get you out.”

“Wait, really?” you asked, but then you heard a set of another set of footsteps rapidly closing in on your position. You heard your name being called out and stiffened as you registered it as the sound of Jinichi’s accusing voice in the distance. It was very likely that the midwife hadn’t covered for you, since her life was just as much on the line as yours was.

You turned around to meet with your husband, looking behind to warn Toji, but he had already vanished from view. Just as you were about to think of another excuse, however, Jinichi wrapped his hand tightly around your wrist, yanking you towards him. His eyes glinted with anger, but also a hint of madness. Just like you, he had become a shell of who he once was. He no longer acted like the man who once yearned for you, turning into the very sort of person that he despised, but was too blind to see it.

“What were you doing?” he asked. “And who were you talking to?”

Your mind raced as you tried to form a believable excuse. You went with whatever popped into mind first. “I-I just needed some fresh air–some space, I promise it was just that,” you replied, trying to keep your voice calm, “it was just so stuffy in there before, I just needed to breathe. I tried to do so out of everyone’s way, though. I was just feeling… so faint… I’m sorry—”

Then he cut you off. “—You were feeling faint?”

You nodded, tensing just in case you made it worse for yourself.

However, all Jinichi did was let go of your wrist. He sighed deeply as if trying to bring himself down from his initial anger, clenching his fists at his sides instead. He then took another deep breath. It was clear that he was trying his best not to hurt you in vain.

“I… see,” he replied in a strained voice, “I suppose that much is acceptable, but let's not do it again. Tell me when you’re feeling umwell next time, and I’ll make sure you get the space you want. Just… don’t put yourself at risk again.”

You shuddered out a sigh of relief, thankful that he was being understanding, or trying to be. “Of course,” you said, “it won’t happen again. I’ll let you know the next time.”

~~~

Come the arrival of nightfall, you felt as if you were performing a role rather than acting naturally. You had a believable excuse, at least. You claimed that you were simply just acting strange because you were either craving things that he might judge you for, or just generalised anxiety surrounding the prospect of childbirth. To his credit, Jinichi tried to walk you through all of these things. Such an effort left you feeling guilty for what you were about to do, but not enough to make you stay.

He would have to turn into a different person entirely for you to reconsider.

It didn’t take Jinichi too long to fall asleep when it was time to do so. Your body language only mimicked his, drooping your eyelids in a rehearsed manner but not succumbing to it. You had to be up often anyway to use the bathroom, so slipping out from the moment his breathing evened out wasn’t that uncommon. He likely expected it by now, so his arm fell away from your side with ease.

However, the creaky floor was what almost gave you away as you advanced towards the front door. You dressed lightly for the occasion, tossing on a light robe that would keep you decent. Everything else was to be left behind. Material possessions hardly mattered to you—not when your life was potentially at stake. Everything else could be replaced given enough time, even if it wouldn’t match the brief taste of luxury that you had been exposed to.

Hunger was also one of those looming concerns that weighed heavily on you, but it wouldn’t be the worst fate to be subjected to. Not when the future you had here was closer to being a prisoner than anything else—an incubator at best. You shuddered to imagine what would become of you when you were old.

Still, you successfully managed to bridge the distance from the bed to the front door without as much as a single snort from your husband, meeting with the cold night air. Somehow, though, sneaking around the estate at night, all alone, seemed to be the more difficult task at hand. You weren’t sure who else you were to potentially run into while out here—but Toji was right where he promised to be.

He took one look at you as he met with you. “That’s all you're taking?” he asked, noticing your empty hands.

You shrugged, not seeing the point of taking more than you could carry. “It would just hold me back, right?”

Toji smiled tightly. He wanted you to at least grab some jewellery or something so that you could pawn it off to give yourself a chance, but he dropped the issue before it even started. “Fair enough,” he supposed, “come along then.”

You followed after him, hardly daring to breathe as slowly but surely, he guided you through the dark paths of the Zenin estate. Every step you took felt like it echoed the wrong way, and you felt so heavy in your movements—though that much could have just been from the bloat of your condition. Your anxiety was at an all-time high, though, no matter how much you tried to keep it down—gasping and flinching at every crack and snap beneath your feet.

“Calm down,” Toji muttered as he walked in front of you. There was that same hint of annoyance colouring his tone, but he didn’t sound angry with you, at least not in the same way that Jinichi could ever be.

You swallowed hard, trying to level your breathing, but it didn’t work as well as you hoped. Somehow, it just made you even more aware of everything that you did. Your heartbeat drummed loudly in your ears, masking your train of thought, causing you to overthink more than you had to.

You were escaping him, weren’t you? Besides that point, this was also your only shot. You couldn’t let your fear of being caught cloud your judgment, because then it would all have been for nothing.

Toji tried to bring you down to earth again. “You know, if I can hear you freaking out, then so can everyone else,” he pointed out, “especially Jinichi; he has this uncanny sixth sense for that sort of thing. So do us both a favour and take a deep breath. You’re fine. Seriously.”

Finally, you heeded his words and tried to listen to him. You weren’t being loud, you could tell that now. It was actually impossible to be so with how carefully you were walking, so it truly was all in your head. You mirrored his breathing, going as far as stepping where he did to keep yourself grounded until finally, you weren’t at the estate anymore. Thick trees hugged the area, making it difficult to make anything out in the dark without the overhead moon and stars. Toji remained close to you the whole time, but keeping in step with him was starting to become a challenge. While he moved gracefully, every other place your foot landed, near-risked you twisting your ankle.

Just before you were to take a step further, however, Toji’s hand shot out to stop you. “Easy, we’re here,” he muttered out. “You can get in if you’d like.”

You looked around, unable to see what he was talking about.

“Where?”

He tapped the roof of a car, the sound of metal startling you slightly. “In here,” he said before yanking off what sounded like a tarp from around the vehicle, brushing off any scattered branches. “I highly doubt you could help me roll this thing out, even if you weren’t pregnant.”

“Wait, you have a car out here?” you asked. “You were planning this for that long?”

Toji shrugged and swung the door open, helping you settle into the passenger seat. He cranked down the window for you, propping the palm of his hand through the open space, sandwiching the roof between his hands before pushing it slowly along a slope. “Yup,” he hummed as he walked the car slowly through the path he cleared just months before, “I was going to do this much earlier, but then they found out that I wanted to leave. Their version of banishment wouldn’t be without beating me up a little, though,” he laughed as he explained, throwing you off slightly, “hell, I’m still supposed to be in holding. Jokes on them, right? They’ll wake up to both of us gone. Paints quite the picture.”

You remained quiet for the time being, not immediately catching onto his implication, thinking everything else over. It didn’t take him too long to navigate the car over to a road, even if it was an old, underused one. For the most part, you tried to erase as much of your presence as possible to avoid being detected if someone was tailing you, but it seemed to be going smoothly. Another thought entered your mind at that, wondering just how furious Jinichi either was now, soon, or later on…

Toji then slipped into the driver’s seat and started up the car, cursing under his breath as the engine sputtered a good few times. “Piece of shit,” he muttered, “why wont it fucking—” he paused as a smooth purr evened out, leaning back and clapping his hands once in approval, “there we go.”

And as you both drove away, your mind wandered again, and again, and again. It all kept going back and forth to Jinichi and how he would react, and if there was a slim chance that you were in the wrong for leaving him so abruptly. After all, this was sudden. You put your trust into a stranger who was leaving, just so that you could take your leave. It was out of pure luck that he turned out to be a decent person, because what if he wasn’t?

“Are you thinking about him?” Toji asked, making you jolt from the question. His voice was somehow sharp as it cut through.

You tried to deny it right away, even if the look on your face said it all. “N-no… I could be thinking about anything else.”

He scoffed. “Yeah? I can see it in your eyes.”

“Fine, it’s just…” you trailed off, feeling weird for talking about this with someone who was his younger brother, unsure why he felt so much more trustworthy than a person you had been married to for a while now. “I’m conflicted. There were times recently when he has been nice to me…”

Toji huffed a breath of laughter. “You think that means he cares?”

You didn’t immediately reply.

He drew out a long sigh. He likely thought you were brainwashed at this point, but he couldn’t blame you. “He’s probably trying to be sweet so that you won’t get cold feet. If he’s been an asshole throughout most of it, then you probably did something to make him doubt himself.”

“Well, that much would have been when he caught me wandering around on my own after our initial talk,” you considered.

Toji tapped the wheel of the car. “Then that’ll be it. Probably thought you couldn’t stand him anymore,” his tone was blunt but it wasn’t cruel as he continued, “look, I know my brother. He’s stubborn and he won’t change no matter how he convincing he might be. He’s just too tied down to that place.”

“I suppose you’re right…” you replied, leaning your head on the now-closed window.

Toji took note of your sudden resigned demeanour. “Look, I’m not judging you or anything, alright? Half of the outsiders they bring into such a place to marry never had a choice either. It’s not your fault. It’s just how people are in there.”

Your heart dropped without meaning to.

Something ate away at you.

He was still a Zenin, right?

“Why are you helping me leave then?” you barked out, unable to mask the hostility in your voice. “Like, truly, why?”

“Why not?” Toji was quick to respond. “I might as well do some good if I’m leaving, right? Besides, it’s unlikely that he’s going to wake up and change by some miracle into a better person, so you’re better off away from him.”

You shuddered out a breath but didn’t press the matter further, closing your eyes for a moment and just listening to the road. Toji was right, no matter how much your mind denied it. Jinichi was only ever going to get worse the longer that he stayed in that place and you highly doubted that he was ever going to leave. You had to be realistic. A daughter, as you were aware, would grow up to be a prisoner or a second class citizen in her own home. A son might grow up into becoming the very sort of person you’re afraid of.

So, overall, it was better to move away, even if this was his baby, too.

Eventually, the trees started to blur past as he hit the main road, illuminating the area a bit better. You could tell that you were far enough away for the clan to not be able to catch up right away. This gave you enough room to let your mind wander, feeling a surge of guilt yet again where it was taking you. The old feelings resurfaced, making you see this man in particular, in a different light again.

Just for practicing the bare minimum.

Toji wasn’t blind to this, and he caught you out as you were trying to make your staring not so obvious—but it was. Abundantly so, in fact. His lips anchored into a frown as he considered what you must have been feeling, not quite blaming you for going in that direction, but not wanting to lead you on at the same time.

“Quit that,” he lightly scolded.

You straightened up your posture and tried to act natural. “What?”

“Looking at me like that,” he replied. “I’m not as good of a guy as you think. I’m helping you, yes, but I’m not reliable… or likeable for that matter. So just… don’t.”

You pouted without meaning to, crossing your arms. Pregnancy was messing with your hormones. You wanted to complain instead, perhaps, and Toji was driving you away anyway, so you went with it. “Who’s going to want a young mother who’s all on her own otherwise?”

He narrowed his eyes as he quickly glanced you over. “God, that place has poisoned you so much. A chick having a kid from a previous relationship doesn’t define her worth.”

You didn’t say anything, realising he had a point.

“Besides,” he continued, still sounding irritated from your question, “the right person won’t care, alright?”

“D-do…” you began, seeing an opening. “Do you care?”

Toji turned his head away. “No,” he admitted, “but I’m not that much better.”

“You helped me when I asked,” you insisted, “that’s something, right? You could have just turned me away, but you didn’t…”

Toji didn’t reply to that sentiment, extending a hand to tinker with the radio instead. A rock song came into play from the static, forcing you to sit and stew away as he tapped along the wheel, on occasion singing along to the lyrics.

Your mind began to wander again. You were starting to resent yourself. “Do you think—“ you started, stopping yourself to wet your lips and to refine your question. “Do you think they’ll come looking for me?”

Toji didn’t reply right away, but when he did, there was a long drawn out sigh. “I mean, there’s a chance. Especially since you’re pregnant, which makes this whole situation a lot more complicated.”

“I-it does?” you fussed.

“It’s not my view,” Toji replied, “but essentially you’re property carrying property right now, so they might not take it lightly that you’re gone is all I’m saying.

“What happens if I’m ever found?” you hesitantly asked.

Toji huffed out more air as he considered it. He almost didn’t want to tell you. “Probably the same thing as what would happen to me if they found me. I bounced before they let me, right? So the punishment for that would be death.”

You were quiet for a bit.

“I-isn’t that a bit extreme?” you stammered.

Toji shook his head as he made a turn on the road. “Nah, it’s on par. Maintaining an image is everything to a Zenin, so they’ll punish you accordingly to the crime you’ve committed. I tainted their pride, so they won’t be too happy. You not only did that, but took something from them too,” he said, flicking his eyes to your stomach.

“W-wait—“ you started to panic, but he cut you off before you could get far.

“—That’s if they care that much, though,” he caught you, “I don’t know much about you, but if Jinichi had already gotten himself in trouble for you and you’re causing yet even more shit by leaving, then there’s a chance that you’re a burden that they’re happy to be free from.”

“I’m a burden?” you pouted, though, you tried to turn your tone playful.

Toji just laughed. “They like it when women don’t ask questions and when they do as they’re told. You didn’t exactly do that, did you?”

“I didn’t,” you replied, allowing your pout to smooth into something genuine, “but I tried to…”

He simply just nodded, glad that you seemed to be getting his point. You were surprisingly easy to talk to, all things considered.

“I started to do so because it did beat being poor and hungry. I feel like I set myself back by going back to that—“ you said, but stopped yourself. You didn’t want to make it seem that you were guilting him.

However, Toji didn’t mind. If you were easy to get along with, then he could help you out for a bit longer. A part of him would feel too bad if he left you all alone anyway. A sheltered, heavily pregnant woman with no home didn’t look too good.

“You can stay with me,” he offered, “until you figure out a better plan, that is.”

You blinked. “Wait, really?”

Toji continued, drifting his car off onto a busier road. “Yeah, but only until you find something better,” he allowed, taking the route instead to where he had a place, but nothing fancy. It was just enough to keep a roof over both of your heads, but not much else. He glanced at you next, unable to resist making a jab. “No falling in love with me though.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Pardon?”

“I’m not kidding,” he said, splitting his lips into a grin. “I’ve got enough problems without you falling for me.”

You studied him for a second and then crossed your arms, falling back into your seat. Somehow you fed right into the sort of chemistry that he enjoyed.

“Yeah, right,” you half laughed, “I take it all back. You can get over yourself now.”

The silence was somehow loud as you both fell quiet, but then you said something that got his attention without meaning to.

“Besides, you’ll probably fall in love first.”

Toji didn’t reply to that, keeping his jaw set tight as he couldn’t deny that there was something in the air. The drive hadn’t been too long, maybe close to an hour or two by now, but he was having fun and that both excited him, as well we made him sad. Excited because you were fun to talk to, and it would only get better as you warmed up further, but sad that the place you were tied down to made you lose that spark.

After a moment more, he finally let a laugh slip out of him. “God,” he snorted, shaking his head, “you’re such a pain in the ass.”

Though, the way he said it wasn’t scolding. It was warm, and the silence that followed wasn’t resentful anymore, nor was it awkward. It felt comfortable, even, as if you had both seemed to reach a mutual understanding.

It finally felt like things weren’t so pointless or linear anymore, and maybe, even, that you were going to be just fine.

You made it out, didn’t you?

So you could get through whatever else was up ahead, too.

[gojosbf]

posting this as tradition, the only day you can reblog this

[kamitv]

▷ Friday the 13th

Synopsis . In which your playful jokes about getting fucked by a serial killer during a camping trip to Crystal Lake with your friends quickly manifests into something real. Pairing . jason voorhees!gojo x slightly bimbo!reader / Content . afab!reader, porn with little plot, dubcon (blackmail), rough sex, filth, fear play, getting chased through the woods, hint of knife/blade play, the ripping of clothing, dirty talk, biting, edging but make it life-threatening (lol), covering of the mouth, finger sucking, machoism, sadism, choking, gojo is insane, implications of character death, implications of stalking, he’s a serial killer and reader does NOT gaf since hes hot, possessiveness, gojo is feral, creampie, etc. / wc 5.4k

A/N: I'm a simple woman, I see Gojo fanart on TikTok (banner art by them, ofc), I get to writing. Hope you enjoy! Barely proof-read, sorry for errors. Also IGNORE how I didn't post this on Friday.... I'll change the date later. (Kinktober Masterlist.) [MDNI]

"Damn, I really hope a six-foot-tall serial killer with a hockey mask and a machete doesn’t come out of that lake, rip all my clothes off, and fuck me… that would suck."

You were joking, of course. It was broad daylight outside, and you had your phone held high in your hand, having only said that crazy set of dialogue because of a trend you’d seen on TikTok.

With you were your two friends who’d dragged you out here, Utahime and Shoko, who laughed as soon as you finished recording that video of yours. You never planned to post it or anything like that, just filmed it to earn some giggles from your two closest friends.

You didn’t expect your little joke to turn into something real later that night…

————

Camping with Shoko and Utahime is something you don’t care much for. You’re not the biggest fan of bugs, can’t really stand being miles out from your nearest… well, anything, and you mostly mull over the fact that there’s little to no service.

That, and the woods give you the creeps. Especially after they’d taunted you by telling you there’s a killer lingering about—though they claim for some reason said killer has never bothered them.

Currently, the three of you are sitting around a crackling fire that’d been loosely put together by Shoko—who’s presently tending to a rather drunk Utahime on a log not too far away from you—and you all had been laughing about how your recently assembled tents for the night look like shit.

Even so, the woods around Crystal Lake are darker than you thought they’d been—scarier than even the movies depicted. Every little sound felt like it was ten times louder; a twig snap like a scream from the void of night, the rustling wind through leaves rivaling a howling wolf, and the distant sound of water from the lake’s shore similar to that of large beach waves.

Of course, most of this was just you and your fears playing tricks on your mind but still. It was creepy as fuck.

And at some point between the alcohol and giggled conversations, the air around you just started to feel heavy. As if you were being watched or something stupid like that.

When Shoko noticed your constant awkward looks off into the dark forest that enveloped your surroundings, she comforted you with that weary smile of hers, “Ms. Paranoid’s back at it again,” She’d teased, the little nickname something her and Utahime started calling you earlier that day after you expressed your list of worries regarding this weekend trip.

It was only Friday and yet you just wouldn’t shut up about the dangers of three women camping out in the forest alone like this—especially with a killer on the loose. Now, they both knew you had your points but if you really didn’t want to come with them then they know you wouldn’t be here right now, hence why they’ve been teasing you.

Utahime lifts her head up from Shoko’s shoulder and lets out a drunken belch before lifting a hand to rub her eyes, “Oh my God, for the millionth time, we come out here every other weekend. Everything's gonna’ be-, hic, f-fineee..” She mumbles over to you.

You were about to give in and finally listen to them but the sound of a twig snapping distantly makes you flinch like you’d just been stabbed.

The dramatics of your jumpiness makes both of them burst out into a fit of laughter, to which you send them a harmless glare, “Hey, that’s not funny, I know you both heard that.” You scoff softly.

Though, you will admit, it was a little humorous how jittery you’d been all day. Even earlier you screamed because a deer had unintentionally jumpscared you.

Shoko shakes her head a bit, lighting the cigarette that’s prettily perched between her glossed lips, “It’s probably just another animal, babes.” She hums before taking a slow drag and then sighing heavily, plucking the cig from her mouth and pointing at you with it, “We’re in the middle of the forest, remember?”

You stare pointedly, “Okay, but what if it’s not…”

To which, she deems this a perfect time to mess with you even more. Shoko tosses some of her hair over her shoulder before looking at Utahime to make sure the poor girl’s not about to slump forward due to her current lack of a clear head. After which, she smirks slightly and glances at you again, “You want me to go check it out for ya’?”

“No!” You say quickly enough to incite her desire to spook you, “I-I mean, no, you don’t have to go anywhere…” Your voice softens again and you look off into the woods again, “That’s like, the quickest way people die in horror movies.”

The sound of her standing up could be heard and your head whirls back around to see what the hell she’s doing now. After making sure Utahime is steady, she turns and makes her way over to you, leaning down to your ear just to whisper, “Good thing this isn’t a horror movie then, yeah?” and then brushing past you casually, “I’ll be right back—I’ve gotta piss anyway.”

“Go piss girl,” Utahime murmurs dazedly, snickering at her own joke afterwards.

Shoko steps over the log you’re sitting at and just before she could avoid it, your fingers come clinging onto the edge of her shirt to tug her back towards you. Peering up at her all pleadingly, you frown, “Shoko, please don’t leave me. ‘Hime’s drunk and–”

“Y’know,” She cuts off almost sensually. Her hands come to your wrist and she carefully plucks your hand away from her shirt before crouching down to where you’re seated, brown eyes pouring into yours for a moment. Then you watch that sly smirk of hers spread across her lips before her voice lowers into something teasing again, “For a girl who watches sooo many horror movies and constantly talks about how she wants the killers in them to fuck her… You’re one big scaredy cat.”

You swallow thickly and almost feel yourself shrinking under the intensity of her eyes on you, “I-I’m not-”

“Relax, cutie, I’ll only be gone for a sec’,” She purrs sweetly enough to distract you from your own fear for a moment, “And Utahime may look like she’s barely with us right now but I promise if any killer were really out here, I wouldn’t leave you like this.” She claims, letting you know the things her and Utahime told you at the start of this trip were just harmless claims to mess with you. “We know these woods, you’ll be fine. Okay?” 

You bat your lashes and she mocks you with a pout of her lips, hand lifting as she lightly grabs your face into her palm, squeezing your cheeks together between her fingers and her thumb. Then you watch how her gaze dips down to your mouth and the way they were really trembling lightly.

Snickering, “Though, I must say… you’re pretty adorable when you’re scared,” She flirts, to which your face flushes. Shoko leans in and you could smell the taste of cigarettes on her tongue, head tilting, “If there were a killer, I’d see why they’d wanna fuck you instead of killing you—y’know, just like you’d asked for earlier.”

Faster than you can work a response out, she’s pulling away and then skipping off into the dark of the night as if she didn’t just say what she just said. Leaving you huffing out a loud, “Shoko!” and earning a silly wave of her hand.

“I’m just fucking with you!” She shouts back, silhouette slowly disappearing into the night, “‘Be right back.”

You groan and then turn around all frustrated and annoyed because of her constant teasing. One second there were rumors of a killer and the next she was “just joking” with you. It was really messing with your head in a way you didn’t much care for. 

Then there’s Utahime who… 

You look up and notice she isn’t sitting on the log you last remember seeing her at. Hell, if anything, she’s gone completely. 

“Okay, really funny, Utahime.” You say carefully as you shoot up to your feet, hugging your arms to provide yourself with some sense of comfort now that you’re seemingly alone, “I already have to deal with Shoko’s jokes, I don’t need you adding to it again.”

The surrounding woodlands suddenly feel as though they were pressing closer to you with both of your friends gone. You watch the fire eat itself away for a couple seconds longer before whining under your breath.

Refusing to let your anxiety fuck you to death, you don’t waste much time moving to walk around the small campsite you three have been chilling at for the day.

“Utahime?” You call out again, worry evident in your voice, “Please tell me your drunk ass just wandered off behind one of these trees ‘cause this really isn’t funny.”

Groaning as your words go unresponsive, your steps become a bit more determined as you walk over to your bag for a second. You’re cursing both of your friends out under your breath while you fish for your flashlight because part of you knew they were doing this on purpose to scare you.

The fire behind you spits out a low pop of flames and you glance at it for just a second, reconsidering if you’re really about to go out in the woods and look for this girl as if you’re not the main one paranoid about dying out here.

With one soft fuck it, you stand to your feet, step over your log, and finally exit your camping spot to search for Utahime in the woods. The silence around you feels big and invasive, as if each crunch of leaves and muck of wet dirt beneath your shoes were interrupting its brooding stillness.

“You guys are assholes, y’know,” You say out loud, praying they can hear you from wherever the hell they’re hiding. Your light beams through the haunting trees around you and you’re searching for the slightest movement within the shadows. Even spotting a wild animal would be comforting to you right now.

The woods quickly turn out to be one big maze of fogs and grubby bushes, each turn you make mirroring the last. You quickly end up walking farther than you mean to, calling Shoko and Utahime’s names out into the night. Nothing ever answers you aside from the chilly kiss of wind against trees and leaves.

A brand snaps somewhere above you and you immediately swing your light upwards, flashing at nothing but bare twigs.

That feeling in your chest is tighter now. The air around you smells damp and strangely metallic. If you thought about it too much, you’d dizzy yourself with fear because you swear it smells just like fresh bloo–

You catch a shape in between the trees from your peripherals, your head and eyes moving before your flashlight does. You blink and the figure is still there; tall, brooding, and still.

Your gulp is loud enough to be considered comedic. Slowly, your hand lowers and your light is shaking as it aims into that direction to reveal a dark, distant outline of someone standing some yards away from you. The only things you could make out were broad shoulders and something gleaming down by what appeared to be their leg—like something metal.

“Shoko…?” You squeak, though you know damn well it isn’t her.

Then the figure moves.

If anyone thought you were about to let said figure motion any closer to you without you bolting on instinct, they must’ve mistook you for one of those cliche girls from those shitty slasher films. 

You take off so fast into the direction you came from that you accidentally bump into a skinny tree and drop your flashlight, not that you were about to stop and try to pick it up or anything though. Especially not when you swear you hear a scoff somewhere behind you.

Yeah, fuck that.

Luckily for you, with the way the flashlight lands, it aims into the very direction you’re running and gives you enough light to navigate yourself through the woods for a good distance. Branches chip at your arms as you run but you don’t look back, not even once.

You could hear heavy stomps following behind you, all slow and calculated like you’re running was futile to whatever was chasing. Your heart is pounding so hard in your chest that it's consuming the thumping in your ears. You don’t even know where the fuck you’re going anymore.

You’ve no idea if you’re heading toward your campsite or getting further from it until you trip over some stupid ass root and go tumbling forwards—hands bracing yourself in the moist dirt, lungs heaving with panted breaths. You quickly scramble up, brush at your thighs and look forward to see a flicker of oranges and reds through the darkness.

Oh, thank God. The campfire.

You hurriedly break through one last line of trees, relief flooding you so fast you could cry tears of joy. Especially since you see your two friends sitting and giggling exactly where you needed them to be. 

Breathlessly and way too soft to hear, “Shoko! Utahime!” You call out, though it leaves you like a broken whisper more than anything since you’d exhausted your oxygen from all your running.

They don’t move or even look over in reaction considering you’re too far to see and spoke too quietly to hear. The firelight illuminates their casual expressions—making you wonder if they even noticed you disappeared at all—and letting you know you were almost safe, almost free from whatev—

A big, ice-cold gloved hand clamps around your mouth so abruptly you choke before your body is yanked backwards into the dark. You’re tugged back against something sturdy like a tree-, or better yet, a wall of pure steel.

“Scream," A low grumbling voice sears against your ear, "And you die.” The man warns.

Your heart sinks into your feet and you feel as though your very soul took this interaction as its one way ticket to the afterlife with the way it just left your body. Not a single sound leaves you considering the way you notice this stranger from the dark extends a blade out to point at Shoko and Utahime.

Said blade, a machete to be exact, is smothered with crimson red at its edges, the liquid dripping off and onto the soil below. Your eyes widen as you realize exactly what that means. Fresh blood, this man had killed recently and you were likely next if you made any sudden movements or sounds.

Appreciating your quiet and stillness in his grasp, you feel his cold lips quirk up against the skin of your ear before he starts speaking again, tone gravelly, “Atta’ girl," He praises, the words making you melt against him in a mix of fear and subtle excitement. Then, his blade angles a bit as it aims from Shoko to Utahime, "Are those your friends over there?”

You're quick to nod against his hand, feeling his damp yet hulky body press harder against your backside. “M-Mhm!” You chirp in fear.

There's something eerie and disturbing about his voice but, it only makes a wave of heat trickle down your spine as he continues talking into your ear, “Yeah? You love ‘em?” The killer asks, making your thighs clamp together a little. You hated how ridiculously scary yet... arousing this was. Before you can answer with another nod, his hand readjusts from your mouth to your jaw, forcing it up to meet his face, “Uh-uh, look at me.”

And shit, your biggest fear just came true.

The guy who wants to kill your best friends is hot!

Eyes a evocative crystalline blue, face grimy with perfectly placed streaks of dirt and heavy bags of no-sleep underneath his lower lashline, and lips glistened with faint drool that twisted up into a crookedly feral grin--oh it was downright unfair how sexy he was.

This was the typa' attraction that got people killed, literally.

He was nothing like those stories or movies you'd heard about the Crystal Lake killer who was quite the foul sight underneath that signature hockey mask, no, this was Gojo Satoru--a guy who was rumored have gone crazy a few years back before an altercation with someone resulted in him literally getting split in half.

“How much do you love your friends?” Your captor rasps out ravenously, "Hm?" Then his head is cocking to the side in one short motion, mimicking that of something inhumane.

A whimper dances in your throat as you feel yourself diminishing under his piercing gaze, “M-More than anything, please don’t kill me…”

His thick white brows bunch up at the center and you notice how the iconic hockey mask is resting at the right side of his head--splatters of blood noticeable across his pale skin and dingy mask. Then his plump pinkened lips push out into a pout, “Aww, m’not gonna kill you, sweetheart.” He coos way too softly for the situation he has you in, his voice growing weirdly tender with the words that follow, “I just thought you’d want what you asked for earlier.”

Mind blanking completely, you blink, “What I asked for…?”

Gojo smiles wickedly at you, all crooked and sinister like he's never been made aware of how it comes across to people. “Damn, I really hope a six foot tall serial killer with a hockey mask and a machete doesn’t come out of that lake, rip all my clothes off, and fuck me…” He quotes throatily, “Sound familiar to you?”

There's a lump stuck in your throat now, “I was just–”

“Shhh, shhh.” He cuts off, shifting his gloved hand against your face and rubbing the thick pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, “I’ve been itchin’ to kill those two girls over there for the past few weeks ‘n I was finally gonna do it today but then you came along…” He explains slowly, watching the way fear comes and goes in your pupils. “Now I’m thinkin’... I’ll let ‘em live s’long as you give me something in return.”

You're whining all over again, “A-Are you gonna kill me to spare my friends?”

To which he cocks a brow that makes you feel dumb where you stand, “Why the fuck would I do that when you already asked me to do something else to you?" He asks in a demeaning tone.

“What?” You mumble.

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes at you, he instead leans his face down to yours and his thumb glides your lips apart so your mouth could open and his words could pour down into them, “Guess who’s a six foot tall serial killer with a hockey mask and machete, sweetheart.” Gojo points out to you.

Oh.

You've never felt dumber than you did right now. There was no way something you'd said that morning as a joke really came true like this. And the guy behind said manifestation was hotter than you ever could've imagined him to be.

“So, how about it?” His voice intertwines with a crispy husk of need and you could feel your thighs clenching together again. Then Gojo takes his machete and lodges it in a nearby tree for a second to get both of his freezing hands on you.

When they meet your waist and begin to manhandle your frame, you flinch. The killer so easily spins you around and pushes you back against the same tree his blade is housed deep into. Then he sighs, “We’ve already got the chase out the way," He says, picking his weapon out of the bark and redirecting its sharp edge to your shirt, staining the fabric with the blood on it before droning, "M’sure you know what comes next.”

Your voice is a bit steadier now as your back hugs the tree behind you, eyes following the movement of his machete whilst it begins to tear at the flimsy fabric of your shirt, “If… If I don’t do this you’ll...”

“Kill your friends, yeah," He finishes for you, gaze boring into your frightened expression again. To which he fights back a groan. Shoko was right about one thing earlier, you damn sure are adorable when you're scared. “Told’ you I was gonna do it anyway but, I like your little idea better.” Gojo tells you.

It takes a while for you to answer since you're too busy watching and letting him rip the front of your shirt open, the garment falling to the ground and all soiled with blood. Then Gojo thumps closer and your spine stiffens as you bring your eyes up to his and finally utter a gentle, “Okay."

It's immediate the way he lunges forward, hand coming up to grab the back of your neck and tugging your body to his again as if the few minutes of distance were killing him. Talking hotly into your lips as he goes in for a kiss with a harsh utterance of, “Fuckin’ love dumb girls like you..."

The kiss is nasty and loud, dollops of wet saliva smearing in between both of your lips mere seconds after they connect. The chilly material of his black glove slips against your nape and it's not long before you're letting out needy moans against his sloppy lips.

When ever the two of your faces pry away from one another for room to return a breath to your lungs, it only last for a split second to let the strings of drool drip down both of your chins before you're diving right back in. Filthy and raw with primal want on both ends.

Gojo's tongue is heavy and searing against yours, dragging along the center of your pink muscle and lathering something naturally sweet onto your tastebuds.

And his hands-, fuck, his hands...

They're grabby and desperate, tugging at your hips and then flying up to your breasts to snatch your bra off with one loud teaaarrrr of expensive fabric. “Yeahh, let’s get all this shit off ya’,” He huffs in between kisses, plucking away long enough to look down and moan, “Ohhh, she’s even prettier under all those fabrics—what a surprise.”

You're a mess of whines and eager moans, the sound growing increasingly louder as the seconds pass and driving him insane considering your friends weren't too far for how loud you were getting. The killer in front of you is quickly annoyed and stupidly horny, cock swollen forward against his heavy layers of old clothing.

So frustrated that he doesn't even realize how roughly he's snatching your clothes off, quickly leaving them shredded somewhere on the dirt behind him after flinging it all off. And the very second you're bare, thighs soaked with pretty streaks of your own slick, Gojo finds himself moaning at the sight.

Then his whole hunky body, broad shoulders, and haughty torso weighs-, more like slumps, to the side a bit before he's bending down and swooping you up 'n open into his bulky arms faster than you can wrap your mind around.

You barely get to catch your breath as your naked back is pressed against a tree and your legs are left dangling over the arms he had hooked beneath your knees as if you weighed less than anything. His strength alone had your brain in a fuzzy daze and your pussy weeping profoundly around nothing.

Then the bastard grinds his entire frame forward and you moan as if he just pushed inside you. Hell, it damn sure felt like he did with the way that jumping cock of his hauled and then pressed against your syrupy-slicked folds, which merely spread over his bulge as he did so.

Mouth dangling open like some slut, your head thumps back, "Ohmygod..."

Encouraged, the man moves as if possessed and leans back just to glare at you, "Need you to do something, sweetheart." He huffs.

You barely meet eyes with him and raise a brow.

To which he looms forward with drool dangling past his bottom lip, "Pull that fuckin' cock out f'me."

You don't know what jumps first; your body or your cunt in leaky arousal. Either way, you obediently slide a hand in between your bodies and shuffle in between all those clothes he has on, working to free his slobbering length.

It takes a few shuffles and a mix of hot pants before you manage to grab his cock and drag the massive weight free from the restricting confines. Something inside you twitches when you feel how wet it is in your palm before you start angling his bulking tip against your entrance.

He helps you via the movement of his ample hips, nudging the head up against your clit to purposefully draw a loud moan out of you before he quickly sinks past your plush folds, jaw slacking open at the delicate and daubing wetness he’s met with.

The killer was about to toss his head out and allow himself a groan as he smoothly meets the hilt of your warm cavern with only one juicy thrust but, as you cry out all loudly again, he’s easily pissed off.

“Shut the fuck up,” Gojo husks after yet another noisy sound exited your body, quickly adjusting himself so that he could shove two stingy fingers into your mouth. With it, he lurches forward and presses his lips against your ear, “If they catch us like this, m’gonna kill ‘em.” He warns, earning a sudden squelch and sloshed clamp around his vein trickling girth, “Aagh, fuck…" He breathes, flashing an already fucked-out smile, "Did you clench out of real fear or is my dumb slut into that, huh? Y’like a lil’ fear play?”

Without waiting for an answer, his hips and fingers are moving in tandem with one another. The corpulent head of his cock is mashing against your sweetest spot like he’d known the way to it prior to this and his fingertips are ticking the back of your throat just to feel you choke against his digit.

“Ah, who am I kiddin’, of course you do,” He chuckles, pulling back a bit and sliding his digits out of your mouth just to stuff them into his own. “Probably got this-, fuck… wet halfway through our chase…” He mumbles in between his cleaning of his fingers.

Gojo was a obnoxious fuck, hips mean and pounding against your sprawled out legs whilst he occasionally glided your entire frame forward onto his impaling cock. At some point you remember having to put a hand over your mouth to stop your sounds from echoing throughout the forest.

Y’know, as if your cunt wasn’t loud enough with the way she was moaning and crying around the fat dick stretching you out against some random tree.

You’re struggling the whole way through, toes curling tightly every time his tip kisses over your g-spot with saccharine grazes. The way your pussy slobbed around him with the most gorgeous squelches had him pussydrunk and delirious in only a mater of minutes.

Once he starts hearing your whines struggling against your throat again, he knew you were getting close. Hence why his weight sandwiches into yours all of a sudden, your nails scraping at his back whilst yours curves into an arch away from the tree. “Mmmgh, fuck… are you about to cum? So soon?” Gojo taunts, speaking into the taut skin of your neck now as his balls clap heavily against your skin. “Nahhh, fuck that. If you cum on me before I say you can, I’m gonna take that pretty lil’ blade and–”

“O-Okay,” You whisper before he can finish, pussy narrowing around the curvaceous edges he was thrusting into you, “I-I won’t… mmnh… I won’t c-cum,” You attempt to say in one breath. Though, it definitely takes multiple.

Rubbing his initials over your clit and causing your eyes to roll into the back of your skull, Gojo smiles wickedly. “That’s what I like to hear.” He praises lightly, peppering dribbly kisses into your neck, “Pluuus, you wouldn’t want your friends to hear how much of a whore you really are, would you?” He asks in a  slouchingly deep purr.

You shake your head cutely.

Loving the hold and control he’s got on you, a snicker escapes him, the breath from it slapping and sliding down to your collarbones, “Yeah, I didn’t think so. They’ve no idea their best friend likes gettin’ fucked by killers in the woods for real. They thought it was all just jokes, right?”

His pounding is getting faster now, more erratic. And you know he’s doing it on purpose because he wants to see how long you can hold back your orgasm. “M-Mhm-mm..” You stammer out.

“Awww, you poor thing.” Gojo frowns as he lifts his head and looks into your ears, biting his bottom lip at the sight of dainty tears, “Can’t even be yourself around them, can you?”

It quickly becomes too much for you as he starts humping his deliciously vivacious cock in and out of your saturated hole. Your eyes flicker and your mouth is wide open, sweet drool lapping its way down your chin and falling down in between your bodies, “S-S’toru, please… I-I can’t hold-, ah.. I’m gonna—”

“Not yettt,” He whispers as if to convince you, hips rolling rhythmically now just to drive you to the point of edging shivers, “Look, you really wanna die out here just because you couldn’t hold back your own orgasm? That’d be embarrassing, don’tcha think?” He asks playfully.

You shudder and then his thrusts return to something rougher-, needier.

“What you’re gonna instead is cum with me—not before me like the selfish slut you wanna be so bad,” He suggests as his forehead meets yours with a careful tap, your breath mingling. “On the count of three, yeah?” You nod anxiously and as soon as his voice comes out all slow, you feel like you’re really gonna lose your life over this.

“Oneee…” He murmurs.

Your cunt is jolting around his cock, “S-Satoru…”

He swallows down a grunt, “T-Twoooo… c’mon you can do it,” He encourages, though you’re not sure if that’s for him or you.

When his cockhead slaps up against where your insides are most sensitive and stars suddenly coat your vision you choke, “O-Ohgod, I can’t, I can’t–”

“Three,” He breathes out finally.

Your moan echoes out into the air in true pornographic fashion, so loud that both you and Gojo fuzzily sense the way Shoko and Utahime probably looked around a bit. His frosty hand comes slapping over your mouth again before he tugs your body against his once more, moving to groan in your ear, “Thought’ I told you not to be fucking loud.”

Oh shit.

His hand falls down to your neck and he squeezes tight, putting a halt to your easy breathing. “S-Sa-, hahh… Satoru… p-please,” You whine softly, cunt hugging his still spurting cock and gushing a mess of white around where you two connect.

He lets out something raspy before letting go of your neck, grabbing your face, and then forcing your eyes onto his. “You’re s’lucky I’ve taken a liking to you…” He snorts like it’s humorous and then sighs, “That, ‘n I like the way you look when you cum.”

Lashes wet from your tears, you bat them at him, your body all breathless and spent. The most important thing about this whole interaction dawns on your mind again and you gulp as your voice hoarsely leaves you, “D-Does this mean-, mh.. we all get to live?”

Gojo smiles at you, just barely before his head tilts and his hockey mask falls off onto the floor with a soft thud, “For now, sure.”

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[wallsofparadis]

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