Warning: virtually everything here is nsfw and involves noncon/rape.
OTHER LINKS
As tumblr posts apparently stop functioning properly if they contain over 100 links, Iâm having to add extra posts for additional content and link them here. These will take you to extensions of the masterlist.
PROFILES/MISCELLANEOUS
(the yandere profiles + unorganized dump of misc posts)
OTHER MEDIA
(media that isnât genshin)
âââââââââââ-
ALSO, please look at art that was made by very very talented followers!!!
Kaeya (by @obsessivealice)
Bennett (by @screenbaby)
Crepus (and a second one!) (by @hornygirlinthehood)
Modern!Xiao (by @minteasketches)
Modern!Xiao from the camgirl saga and also Modern!Albedo from the idol girl saga both by @dovesgraveâ
Albedo from Verschlimmbessern by @junnimoonâ
Albedo from an anonymous userâ
Childe from an anonymous user
Xingqiuâs sister by @sevenny07
Lambgirl by @sevendeadlyvirtuesâ
I have a separate tag for user @mewostaâ who has drawn a lot of great stuff for me! You can find the tag for and see it all here.
Here is Razor art I commissioned from @/_Haruka_078 on twitter.
âââââââââââ-
And much thanks to everyone who has volunteered to translate for me! @yuki-moti, @naankowalski, @irenedewainwright, @purpleflyfrog
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TAGS
the full incest tag! Unfortunately tumblr wonât let you search the word so you can access all incest tagged posts from here. This contains all incest except for momson that I have recently only started using itâs own tag for, so there will still be momson further back.
Specifically the momcon tag
The Scaramouche lambgirl darling (origin post) (origin post 2)
The Xiao camgirl darling (origin post), (origin post pt 2)
The Kaeya/Diluc meimei/little sister darling (tw: pseudo-incest)
The Albedoâs Creator/Rhinedottir darling (origin fic)
The Albedo idol girl darling (origin post)
Modern AU tag
Male majority AUÂ
AU wherein there is a gender imbalance of roughly 20 males for every female. Misogyny warning for this entire AU and all its posts.
Please check out the work that was gifted to me for this AU!! By TheRandomAnon (their ao3 username as they chose to remain on anon on tumblr)
Please also look at the art that was done for this by @dovesgrave
Yan.txt tag
^This is a tag/page I use for prompts/ideas/short drabbles that I have, sometimes non-fandom specific.
Modern AU - Toxic Boyfriends going through your phone
Modern AU - breaking up
Modern AU - Cleanliness
Toxic boyfriend behaviors
Gore/Violence
(These are generally non-sexual or only somewhat sexual and the main component is murder, violence, gore, etc. The harm is being done to third parties unless otherwise noted. Some contain allusions to cannibalism. You can see all posts with this theme here.)
Rival/enemy Corpse Disposal methods (tw: gore, mentions of cannibalism)
Compilation (Razor, Albedo, Childe, Kaeya)
Compilation 2 (Scaramouche, Xiao, Thoma)
Animal instincts and violent tendencies (Gorou, Xiao, Razor)
Childe and violence
Razor being desensitized to violence
Kemonomimi
â çŁčł â - âAnimal ears.â This is a series about animal-human hybrid darlings (such as catgirls and doggirls).
Part One (Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Xiao, Venti, Bennett, Chongyun, Xingqiu, Razor, Scaramouche)
Part Two (Ayato, Thoma, Gorou, Kazuha, Aether)
Part Three (Dainsleif, Dottore, Childe, Itto)
Scaraâs lambgirl
Tighnariâs Fennec Foxgirl
Possumgirl (yes really)
Incest
All incest-related posts. Obvious TW.
Son - Childe (tw: mother/son incest)
Big Brother Childe (tw: big brother/little sister incest)
Dad Childe (tw: father/daughter incest)
Sons - Kaeya, Diluc (tw: mother/son incest)
Little sister/meimei slave - Kaeya, Diluc
Big brother Aether vs Little brother Aether (tw: incest)
Big brother Xiao
Little brother Xiao (modern AU)
Sonbedo⢠(tw: mother/son incest)
Big Brother Diluc (tw: big brother/little sister incest)
Dad Diluc (tw: father/daughter incest)
Dad Kaeya (Incest warning)
Fluff
Some more lighthearted/soft posts.
Kissing HCs
Pregnancy HCs
Sleeping HCs
Handwriting
Drunk/Alcohol HCs
Annoying Habits
OC
This is only for one post, but I made an OC in my Early 90â˛s AU (link).
cw: breeding kink, dubcon to noncon, primal play obvs, degradation, really dark gojo here
he gently but forcefully guided you outside to the backyard of his parents' mansion, bringing you to a edge of the garden where the pristinely mowed grass turns into dangerous vines. a few metres ahead of you begins a forest, with large dark trees and a plethora of unknown creatures.
you, wearing only gojo's shirt and some tracksuit pants, turn to look at him.
"i-it's too cold for this, toru. let's just go back inside."
"oh, don't be a baby. you'll warm up as soon as you start runnin'." you can tell he's excited from the way his body practically bounces up and down, and how he keeps clapping his hands together, as if preparing for an olympic sprint.
he had this sudden idea to play tag, where he got to chase you through the woods. you weren't stupid, you knew he was gonna fuck you when he found you. the idea did sound enticing, but not on a freezing friday night.
"b-but i don't wanna get hurt or get all muddy. can't we do this inside?"
"but that's not as fun, baby. i really wanna be able to catch you properly."
"i don't even have shoes on-"
your words are cut off when gojo steps forward and grabs your neck firmly. his eyes are almost predatory, wide and focused on every micro-movement of your face.
"you're gonna run, and i'm gonna catch you, and there's nothing you can do about it." he releases your neck and steps back, only to begin counting down from 30. he wears a subtle smile on his face, and you know there's no deterring him.
in a panic, you quickly turn around and start sprinting into the forest. the branches hurt beneath your feet and every cold gust of wind shatters your teeth, but the adrenaline runs so intensely through your veins that you don't think to stop.
you make good distance, stopping behind a tree to catch your sputtering breath. it's definitely been at least a minute by now. the thought of gojo, walking carefully through the woods with you being his target ensues a mix of excitement and genuine fear.
you start walking again, careful to avoid snapping anymore branches and to keep your breathing as quiet as possible. as you look around, you realise how deep you've gone, and an uneasy feeling hits you.
was this just another joke? a facade of a game to get you to run into the forest like an idiot? oh, you can just imagine gojo texting all his friends about how much of a crazy bitch you are, listening to whatever he says.
you're about to turn back when you suddenly hear him call out.
"i know you're around here honey! i'm gonna find you!"
the adrenaline rushes through you again and you begin to rush for more distance, ignoring the mud on your feet and sounds of insects all around you.
"just cm'here, and everything will be okay." he says. you can hear him panting slightly, the sentence seeming to have a slight growl at the end of it.
you breathe softly as you creep through the nature, smiling to yourself at your success. idiot, he would never catch you if you continued on like this. you can smell your victory when suddenly you hear the sound of running behind you.
you glance back and see gojo running at full speed through the trees, his ghastly white hair standing out, along with his animalistic eyes.
"i found you!" he calls out, and you finally get your body to move. sprinting without a care to all the sound you're making, you do your best to outrun him, but it's not enough. his heavy footsteps catch up quickly, and soon you feel him grasp the back of your (his) shirt.
"you're, pant, you're mine now, bunny." he says, firmly pushing you to the ground. you try to push him away, but he simply gathers your wrists and pins them to your chest.
"you, you really ran hard, huh?" he says, tugging down your pants with one hand.
"n-no, toru, it's dirty out here-"
"shut up. i caught you, i get to have you." he huffs as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out some kind of bondage device.
"w-what is that?" you ask.
"just a something new." gojo fits the device over your head and around your neck, before fitting your hands into the straps coming from it.
"there, we, go." gojo says, tightening it. "now my little bunny can't get away."
you squirm in the ties that confine your hands to your neck, to which gojo laughs.
"don't worry, i won't hurt you. i just wanna have some fun." he returns his attention back down to your pants, bringing down your underwear as well and throwing both behind him. his cold hands spread the lips of your pussy, before he spits right onto it.
you shiver as gojo begins to lap at your cunt, pushing your thighs to your belly. after a while, when you're all needy and squirmy, he pulls back. but he looks a little, different.
"you want a baby, bunny? yeah, i bet you do." he says, undoing his belt and bringing down his pants. your brows furrow as he takes out his weeping cock, but doesn't accomapny it with a condom. he shuffles forward to position himself, eyes practically eminating with lust.
"w-wait, toru. where's the condom?"
"shhhhh baby, bunnies don't talk." he says, not even looking up at you. instead, he pushes one of your thighs back to your stomach whilst his other hand begins to push in the tip of his cock, every so slowly.
"no, no! stop! we can't, we can't!" you yell, trying to squirm away from him. gojo's eyes flash with anger and he drags you back to him, pinning your thighs on top of his as he begins to push into you again.
"toru, please. i, i don't wanna do this." you cry, struggling with both his girth and his relentless state.
"you, do want this. your little pussy is so wet you couldn't not want this." he says, eyes focused on how his cock is now half buried inside you. "i think you're just a little scared." he whispers.
"please, ahh-"
"scared to have my baby, yeah? is that it?"
"i'm not having your b-baby, satoru-"
"hmm, i think you are. i think, seeing your belly all big, waddling around with only me to rely on. i think that's a pretty good sight." he shoves his cock all the way in, forcing a moan out of you as your eyes roll back. you try to squirm again, but his grip on your thighs holds firm.
"your parents would be soooo mad, wouldn't they? to find out their precious little daughter has been fucking around, presenting her pussy for men like to me release into. silly little cumdump."
you fight against the restraints, but it's no use. they render your hands completely useless as gojo begins to force his cock into you over and over again.
"i mean, it's not like you're great at school either. just another average, in every sense of the word."
your tears fall heavy now, your begging turned to whimpers and pleads.
"shh, it's okay. i'll make you the best mother there ever was." he says, leaning down to wipe your tears.
ę° summary : satoru gojo has a terrible habit of ruining the things she finds pretty.
ę° content warnings :Â mdni. fem!gojo x fem!reader, toxic yuri, college au, rich mean girl gojo, bullying, panty stealing, hate sex, jealousy, humiliation, degradation, marking, bruising, biting, rough sex, strap-on, fingering, fingers in mouth, corruption kink. word count 1.9k art creds @cakkezzz on x
fem!satoru!gojo is a bitch, a heinous bitch, some might even say. her family is ridiculously rich. sheâs beautiful with snowy white hair, glossy and shining, cut into long layered strands that always look effortlessly messyâbut the kind of messy thatâs sexy, not unkempt. her eyes are an alluring cyan blue, like uncharted oceans, varying in icy hues and depths, cold enough to make anyone freeze beneath her stare. her skin is a vast expanse of milky porcelain, supple and smooth, utterly flawless without a single blemish.
fem!satoru!gojo is beautiful, feared, and sought after by everyone⌠yet sheâs too busy staring at the shy, quiet girl who rarely speaks, face buried in her phone, earbuds always plugged inâa perfect target for satoru, a new fixation for her.
so wherever you go, satoru follows. annoyingly bitchy as ever and a complete bully, purposely causing you to trip and spill your papers right outside chemâstacks of white sheets scattering across the hallwayâjust so she has a reason to bend down and help you gather them, sneaking a glance at your soft, dewy tits in that pretty shirtâway too revealing for her liking. i mean, seriously, the guys around here are pigs. sheâs just looking out for you.
which is exactly why, during gym next period, she shoves the top you left in your lockerâcompletely unknowing of her malicious plansâas she steals it and shoves it into her bag with every intention of burning it once she gets home⌠or maybe rubbing it against her aching cunt first. either way, sheâs getting rid of it.
fem!satoru!gojo wouldâve never expected the effect you have on her, though. so easy to bend to her will, so soft for her, so easy to rile upâyet somehow liking such dirty things, liking when she uses you, leaves you all pretty with marks from her teeth and lips :( cute, really. donât let that fool you though, youâll get bitchy with her from time to time, bratty in ways that have her sighing through a nasty grin. satoru just knows how to smack it right off you, in the only way sheâs good at.
fem!satoru!gojo who bullies and ridicules you daily.
every time the professor assigns partners, itâs the same thingâpapers rustling, names being called, and then her chair scraping back like she already knew. sometimes you think she pays the professor just to partner you together. that, or she has annoying, absurd luck.
âstupid girl,â she mutters as she sits down beside you, not even bothering to look at your face yet, already flipping the assignment over with rough, careless fingers, annoyance clear in her tone. âyou really canât do anything right. you know thatâs why weâre always partnered together.â
your skin hums with nerves, tension tightening under the strain in her voice. she notices, like a predator hunting preyâher eyes narrowing on you with something sharp and eerily similar to bloodlust, with her need to ruin you. sheâd never admit it, but seeing you all scared and nervous makes her clit tingle with anticipation for when she has you fucked dumb and squirming beneath her, fingers shoved in your mouth as you drool around them like a dumb slut.
a lazy sigh escapes her pretty, glossed lips that always carry a faint sheen of glimmer. her voice is loud enough to carry across the room despite it being merely a lackluster sigh.
âaw, câmon,â she drawls, leaning back in her chair, long limbs stretching out like she owns the space, nearly kicking the person sitting in front of her. âyouâre really gonna stick me with her again, teach?â she rolls her eyes, pointing at your frame as her lips form a bored pout.
people whisper to their respective groups, snickering cascading down the rows of students, disdain reaching your ears. their voices are shrill as they laugh without restraint, full of imprudence and ignorance. not surprising, thoughâlaughter always follows when satoru speaks, even the stupidest of things; everyone here kisses the ground she walks on.
she tilts her head toward the professor, all faux annoyance and boredom, like this is some personal stain to her name.
âsheâs just too stupid, really. itâs a shame sheâs unteachable, bottom of the barrel, the lowest of them all,â she says casually, like itâs obvious to anyone with eyes. then she glances back at you, a smile formingâshifting into something sharp, vampire-like in the catch of the light, canines pearly white, the grin stretching long and wide, curling into something almost sinister, a full cheshire grinââisnât that why you always stick her with me so she can copy whatever the smartest one does and get an A? pfft. thatâs low even for you, y/n.â
âdonât worry, though,â she says absentmindedly toward the professor, already leaning in, her perfume cloying and sweet, smelling like something sugary, almost like whipped vanilla and tart berries. sweet yet bitter, perfectly emasculating her sweet tooth, and the sourness that coats her tongue and lingers in her words, her breath skittering down your warm flesh in its feverish wakeâspoken like a warningâbefore she finishes her sentence: âiâll handle her, professor.â
fem!satoru!gojo who gets meaner when sheâs jealous. someone glances at you too long, and sheâs already thereâcutting in with that lazy smile that never reaches her low, dead-set eyes.
âdonât,â she says simply, like itâs obvious youâre her pet. she should really get you a collarâmaybe bedazzle it. sheâs thinking a fifteen-carat flawless white diamond set into a pastel leather leash, only the best for her baby. she lets out a small snicker to herself, then pausesânah⌠thatâs too much.
she canât stand when another person even throws a glance your way. last time a guy hit on you, she got him expelled. surprisingly easy when you have her money, status, and a last name professors practically bow to.
fem!satoru!gojo leaves bruises where her fingers dig into your flesh, teeth sinking in and puncturing skin in her wake. make her jealous, and it becomes your punishment.
fem!satoru!gojo sees you as something she can have whenever she wantsâsomething she can use, take, ruin. corrupt under her gaze, her fingers knead into your soft doughy skin, as she pulls you into some secluded room, your skin sick with need, goosebumps crawling up your arms. sheâs not even bothering to be gentle as she strips you bare.
her touch is confident; she knows sheâs in control as her fingers skitter across the skin between your inner thighs, coming to a halt at your clothed core, fingers slipping through and working through your cunt, aware of all your sweet spots, your pussy swallowing her slender digits down to the knuckle as she curls and pumps into your heated core.
and you donât fight it.
if anything, your body leans into her. chasing her touch.
this weird, hostile, hate-fueled thing between you and satoru is something you willingly take part in. you hate herâher attitude, the way sheâs rude, snobby, so stuck-up it makes your blood boilâbut sheâs also the only one who can fuck three orgasms out of you back-to-back and leave your thighs clenching just from the sight of her sharp, smug grin, too cocky, and all teeth.
and donât even get started when she pulls out the strap.
sheâs mean about itâruthless, sadistic.
your face is shoved deep into the pillow, barely able to breathe between shallow gasps as her hips snap forward again and again, the brutal force knocking the air from your lungs. the plastic cock drives deep inside you, your panties shoved to the side, your body already sensitive from the way her long fingers teased your clit beforehand. this position sheâs got you inâshe knows exactly what sheâs doingâlets her hit that spot perfectly, every thrust dragging a scraped, broken sound out of you.
the room fills with it. the soft, wet, obscene squelching sound, the constant echo of your greedy cunt taking everything she gives.
âpathetic,â she mutters, voice low and mocking. âgoing dumb over my cock like this.â
she really believes it, too. she talks like itâs hers, like itâs real, like if she wanted, she could come inside you and leave you completely ruined, full of her seed, leaking with it. god, what a nerd, you think.
âfucking slut for this cock, arenât you?â
you grip the sheets, nails digging into the fabric, your voice muffled into the pillow. ânghâfuck, sâtoru, itâs too much⌠i hate you.â
sheâs got a crooked smile, teeth dragging over her bottom lip, all need. ânah, baby, your pussyâs telling me different. sheâs a real bigggg talker, you know.â
satoru slowly eases the baby blue strap from your tight heat, and your cunt clingsâdesperate, greedy, almost rotten in the way it sucks her back in. when she finally pulls out, the ridges are coated, slick with your creamy release.
âmm.â she hums, satisfied, a little amused. âsee that? youâre painting my shit.â
something shifts in her at the sightâsomething sharper, more carnivorousâand suddenly sheâs rutting into you harder, faster, pushing you up the bed with the force of it. then she slows, dragging it out, letting you feel every inch as your pussy clamps down around her.
she flips you over without warning, forcing you onto your back so you have to look at her.
her white hair is messy, pushed back, strands sticking from sweat. her eyeliner is smudged, lashes pale and catching the light, her expression wrecked in a way sheâd never admit youâre the cause of.
her voice comes out rough as she leans in, thumb pressing against your lips before pushing inside your mouth, forcing past your teeth. the second you feel her, you bite down hard, leaving behind tooth-marked petals.
something dark flashes through her sky-kissed eyesâsheâs quick with her movements. her hand snaps across your face, sharp and sudden, a sting that burns hot against your skin without quite tipping into real pain.
you just grin at her like a crazy woman. your eyes are glassy, wet with tears pooling along your lashes, your cheeks flushed and overheated from everything sheâs dragged out of you. your bodyâs still trembling, ruined from the way sheâs pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you, damp strands of hair clinging to your skin, mascara faintly smeared beneath your eyes.
âcocky, arenât we,â she murmurs.
her fingers shove deeper into your mouth this time, pressing against your tongue, pushing far enough to make you choke, your eyes watering as tears finally spill over. at the same time, her other hand slides down your body, dragging along your slit before slipping your lace panties off completely.
she brings them up, pressing the soft lace to her face, inhaling slow.
âmm⌠yeah. think iâm gonna keep these,â she says, almost casually. âyou donât mind, do you?â she bats her eyelashes at you, long white lashes fluttering softly, deceptively sweet. yeah, you donât mind. even if you did, itâs not like you could say anything when sheâs looking at you like thatâso sickly saccharine itâs almost suffocating.
she doesnât wait for an answerâjust tucks them into her bra like theyâre hers now, just like you are, already looking back down at you with that same awful, knowing smirk. yet you catch the way it frays at the edges, faltering beneath your held gaze.
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First thing first: young Satoru isnât evil. Heâs good at his core. But he genuinely, sincerely, fundamentally believes heâs the protagonist of reality and everyone else is background sound design. NPC chatter. Ambient noise. People donât exist to him unless theyâre useful, entertaining, or threatening.
The only person he registers as real-real is Suguru. Thatâs his equal.
Heâs also introverted as hell in the way rich, gifted, isolated kids are introverted â not shy, just⌠emotionally illiterate. He doesnât know how to attach. He doesnât know how to bond. He doesnât know how to want someone without immediately turning it into possession, curiosity, or dominance. His childhood trained him to be worshipped, feared, or obeyed. Nobody ever taught him how to be liked. Nobody ever taught him what mutual feels like.
So yeah, stereotype or not, the reason he notices you is because you donât give a shit.
You donât stare.
You donât whisper.
You donât orbit.
You donât flinch when he walks past.
You act like heâs not there.
And at first? He thinks itâs funny. Cute, even. Like watching a glitch in the matrix. Everyone else reacts to him â you donât. Youâre either brave or stupid or lying, and he wants to figure out which. He doesnât see you as a person yet. Youâre a puzzle. A game. A boredom cure.
So he starts trying to get close.
Not in a creepy way. Not yet. Casual. Lazy charm. Smile, hands in pockets, sunglasses tilt. âHey, wanna hang out with me sometime?â
And you straight up reject him.
Not politely.
Not quietly.
Not gently.
You laugh.
Out loud.
In public.
In front of people.
You mock him. Make a joke out of him. You say something like, âWhy the hell would I want to hang out with you?â like itâs obvious. Like he just asked something insane. Like heâs embarrassing himself by even opening his mouth.
And thatâs the first time something cracks.
Not rage â not yet â but ego injury. The kind that feels like heat under the ribs. The kind that feels like humiliation but sharper. Because in his head, he didnât just invite you. He offered you something. His time. His presence. Access to his inner circle. In his world, thatâs a privilege. Thatâs charity.
And you didnât just decline.
You rejected him loudly on purpose.
In front of everyone.
That doesnât compute.
So first he ignores you.
Not calmly â performatively. He makes a point of not looking at you. But he does look. Constantly. Just in reflections. Windows. Glass doors. He checks if youâre checking. You never are. You move through the world like he doesnât exist.
And that makes something in his chest start to itch.
You donât look bitter.
You donât look hurt.
You donât look impressed.
You look⌠normal.
And he hates that more than anything.
Suguru and Shoko notice. Of course they do. They start teasing him. Light stuff at first. âDamn, rejected already?â âDid someone bruise the ego?â âShe really said no, huh?â
Normally heâd laugh it off.
He doesnât.
He snaps.
Likeâactually snaps.
Tells them to shut up. Tells them to mind their business. His voice is sharp in a way theyâre not used to. No playful edge. No teasing rhythm. Just irritation.
Thatâs when they realize somethingâs off.
Because Satoru usually laughs at everything.
After that, the behavior changes.
It starts small.
He bumps into you in the hallway. Harder than necessary. Doesnât apologize. Just mutters, âWatch where youâre going, bitch.â
You donât react.
You donât glare.
You donât snap back.
You donât even slow down.
You keep walking like he didnât just exist behind you.
And that makes his stomach drop.
Not because he hurt you.
Because he didnât matter.
So he escalates.
Pulls your hair when no oneâs watching. Shoves your shoulder. Corners you against walls and leans too close, voice low, breath hot, eyes bright and mean. Tells you youâre useless. Tells you you donât belong here. Tells you you should go back to wherever the fuck you crawled out of.
And he does it in front of people too.
Especially Suguru.
Especially Shoko.
Like he needs witnesses.
Like he needs to prove something.
He degrades you out loud. Calls you names. Laughs at you. Makes you the punchline of conversations youâre not even part of. He turns your existence into a public inconvenience. A joke. A stain.
And the fucked up part?
You still donât react.
You donât cry.
You donât beg.
You donât explode.
You just⌠exist around it.
Which drives him insane.
Because he wants impact. He wants reaction. He wants proof that he can reach you. Hurt you. Move you. Make you feel anything about him. And youâre giving him nothing. Heâs pouring gasoline on concrete and wondering why it wonât burn.
So it gets physical.
Not brutal â not yet â but invasive. Smacking you into walls under the guise of âaccidents.â Twisting your wrist too hard when you try to walk away. Leaning over you until youâre cornered and whispering shit like, âYou think youâre special? Youâre nothing.â
And the whole time, his eyes are too alive.
Bright.
Focused.
Wrong.
Like heâs trying to scrape something out of you.
Suguru and Shoko get worried.
Not about you â at first â but about him. Because this isnât normal. This isnât playful. This isnât teasing. This is fixation. This is obsession wearing the mask of hatred.
They call him out.
Tell him heâs acting weird. Tell him heâs overdoing it. Tell him he needs to chill the fuck out.
He laughs too fast.
Too loud.
âAs if. I just hate her. Thatâs it.â
But his eyes are wide when he says it. Focused. Like heâs trying to convince a jury that doesnât exist.
He keeps talking. Keeps explaining. Keeps justifying.
âShe thinks sheâs special. Sheâs not. Sheâs just annoying.â
But nobody even asked.
And thatâs the part thatâs unsettling.
His words come out like heâs arguing with himself.
Like heâs trying to convince someone invisible.
And the truth is, he is.
Because he doesnât hate you.
Heâs obsessed with you.
But his brain doesnât have a category for that. He doesnât know what attachment feels like unless itâs rivalry or worship or possession. He doesnât know how to want something without wanting to own it, dominate it, break it, or bend it until it fits into something familiar.
So his mind rewrites the narrative.
Youâre obsessed with him.
Yeah. That makes more sense.
Youâre just playing hard to get.
Youâre just pretending not to care.
Youâre just trying to get his attention in some fucked up way.
That must be it.
Because the alternative â that you genuinely donât care â is unbearable.
So he builds this whole story in his head.
That you stare at him when heâs not looking.
That you listen when he talks.
That you flinch when heâs close because youâre nervous, not scared.
That you ignore him because you want him to chase you.
And every time you donât react, he rewrites it as restraint.
Every time you walk away, he rewrites it as longing.
Every time you donât speak, he rewrites it as shyness.
He decides youâre in love with him.
Deeply.
Desperately.
Pathetically.
And that youâre just bad at showing it.
And thatâs when it gets really bad.
Because now, in his head, youâre not a person anymore.
Youâre a narrative.
A character in a story where he is still the protagonist and youâre the love interest who doesnât know her place yet.
So the abuse shifts.
He stops trying to humiliate you publicly.
Not because he feels bad.
Because, in his head, âWhy would he hurt someone who loves him?â
Now itâs quieter.
More private.
More controlled.
He corners you alone. Lowers his voice. Gets closer. Talks softer but more threatening. Tells you things like, âYou donât have to pretend around me.â âI know what youâre doing.â âYou donât have to play dumb.â
And when you look at him like you donât understand what the fuck heâs talking about, his expression doesnât change â but something in his eyes tightens.
Because that doesnât fit the script.
So he decides youâre lying.
And lying means manipulation.
And manipulation means youâre dangerous.
Which justifies everything.
He starts monitoring you.
Not consciously at first. Just noticing where you sit. Who you talk to. How long you laugh. Whether your smile looks real or fake. He memorizes your schedule without meaning to. Knows when you leave rooms before you do. Knows when youâre alone. Knows when youâre vulnerable.
And anytime someone else talks to you?
His mood tanks.
Not visibly. Not explosively. Just⌠colder. Sharper. Meaner. He gets snippy with Suguru. Short with Shoko. Aggressive with strangers. Like his nervous system is on fire and he doesnât know why.
Because in his head, youâre his.
Not officially. Not verbally. Not consensually.
But narratively.
And seeing you interact with other people feels like cheating.
Which pisses him off.
But he canât confront you about that â because youâre âplaying hard to get,â remember? So instead, he punishes you indirectly. He escalates the bullying again. Gets rougher. Crueler. More invasive. Tells you youâre trash. Tells you no one actually likes you. Tells you everyone just tolerates you. Tells you you should be grateful he even looks at you.
And then five minutes later, heâll be standing too close, voice low, tone almost gentle, saying, âWhy do you always look like that around me?â âYou donât have to be scared.â âIâm not gonna hurt you.â
While actively hurting you.
And the scariest part?
He genuinely believes both versions of himself.
He believes he hates you.
He believes you love him.
He believes heâs the victim.
He believes youâre provoking him.
He believes heâs responding, not initiating.
So when Suguru finally snaps and tells him to leave you the fuck alone?
Satoru laughs.
Like actually laughs.
âBro,â he says, âsheâs obsessed with me.â
Suguru blinks. âWhat?â
âSheâs just pretending she hates me,â he says casually. âItâs obvious.â
âObvious how?â
âShe never reacts,â he says. âShe watches me when she thinks Iâm not looking. She acts all cold but thatâs just because she doesnât know how to talk to me.â
None of that is true.
But he says it like it is.
Like itâs a fact.
Like itâs common sense.
Like everyone else is stupid for not seeing it.
And when Suguru tells him that sounds insane?
Satoru gets defensive again.
Not angry â insulted.
Like how dare you question the narrative in his head.
âYou donât get it,â he says. âYouâre not there when she looks at me.â
âShe doesnât look at you,â Suguru says.
Satoru stares at him.
Long.
Flat.
Wrong.
âYeah,â he says slowly. âShe does.â
And from that point on, reality stops mattering.
Everything you do becomes evidence.
If you ignore him â youâre playing games.
If you avoid him â youâre shy.
If you flinch â youâre nervous because you like him.
If you get angry â youâre emotional because you care.
If you tell him to leave you alone â youâre lying to yourself.
There is no action you can take that doesnât reinforce his delusion.
Youâre trapped in a narrative you didnât consent to.
And he starts acting like it.
He stops degrading you publicly, but he becomes territorial privately. Interrupts your conversations. Stands too close to people youâre talking to. Inserts himself physically between you and others. Smiles while doing it. Casual. Friendly. Possessive in a way that feels accidental until it doesnât.
And when you call him out?
He looks genuinely confused.
âWhat?â he says. âIâm just talking.â
âYouâre always near me,â you say.
He tilts his head. âWeâre in the same building.â
âYou touch me,â you say.
He shrugs. âAccidents happen.â
âYou wonât leave me alone,â you say.
And thatâs when his smile drops just enough to show teeth.
âI am leaving you alone.â
Which is terrifying, because he genuinely believes it.
Meanwhile, his internal world is rotting.
He thinks about you constantly.
Not in a romantic way â not soft â but compulsive. Intrusive. Like an itch in his skull. He replays your expressions. Your tone. The way your mouth twists when youâre annoyed. The way your eyes narrow when youâre tired. He memorizes micro-expressions he pretends not to notice.
He imagines conversations with you.
Arguments.
Confessions.
Moments where you finally break and admit you like him.
He doesnât fantasize about kissing you.
He fantasizes about you snapping.
About you yelling at him. Crying. Losing control. Finally reacting. Finally cracking. Finally proving he exists to you.
Thatâs what he wants.
Impact.
Reaction.
Proof.
And when he doesnât get it, he gets meaner.
Not louder.
Sharper.
Colder.
More surgical.
He starts isolating you without realizing thatâs what heâs doing. Interrupts friendships. Sows doubt. Makes people uncomfortable around you by association. Says shit casually like, âYou know she talks shit about you, right?â then denies it when confronted. Makes you look unstable. Difficult. Dramatic. The problem.
Because if no one else wants you, then obviously youâll turn to him.
Which, again, makes sense in his head.
And the entire time, he keeps telling himself:
âI hate her.â
âI canât stand her.â
âSheâs annoying.â
âSheâs nothing.â
âSheâs beneath me.â
âSheâs irrelevant.â
But he knows what time you leave.
He knows who you talk to.
He knows what mood youâre in before you speak.
He knows when youâre tired.
He knows when youâre lying.
He knows when youâre alone.
And when he sees you laughing with someone else?
Something in him goes cold and bright and violent.
Not outwardly.
Internally.
Like glass snapping under pressure.
He starts seeing everyone else as threats.
Not rivals.
Threats.
Like theyâre stealing something from him.
Not affection â ownership.
And thatâs when the thoughts shift from harassment to control.
Not âHow do I get her attention?â
But âHow do I make her stop leaving?â
Not âHow do I make her look at me?â
But âHow do I make her stay?â
And the scariest part?
He doesnât think of it as trapping you.
He thinks of it as protecting you.
Because in his head, the world is cruel to you. People misunderstand you. No one sees you the way he does. No one knows the âreal youâ like he does. Everyone else treats you like youâre nothing â he treats you like youâre important.
He thinks heâs the only one being honest with you.
The only one seeing you clearly.
The only one who understands you.
Which is insane, because he doesnât know you at all.
He knows the version of you he invented.
And that version loves him.
So when you finally lose it â when you scream at him to leave you alone, when you tell him he scares you, when you tell him you hate him â
He doesnât get angry.
He gets soft.
Genuinely soft.
Like, voice low. Calm. Almost gentle.
âYou donât mean that,â he says.
And when you tell him you absolutely do?
He smiles.
Not cruel.
Not mocking.
Fond.
Like youâre adorable for thinking that.
âNo,â he says. âYou don't.â
And thatâs when you realize:
There is nothing you can say that will reach him.
There is no reaction you can have that he wonât reinterpret.
There is no version of reality where youâre allowed to just not want him.
Because in his head, your rejection isnât rejection.
Itâs denial.
And denial means he just needs to push harder.
Be closer.
Stay longer.
Wear you down.
Not violently.
Not loudly.
Just⌠persistently.
Relentlessly.
Like gravity.
And the fucked up thing?
He still thinks he hates you.
He still tells people he hates you.
He still calls you annoying. Useless. A waste of space.
But he watches you like youâre oxygen.
Like youâre weather.
Like youâre gravity.
Like youâre something that exists whether he wants you to or not â and now that you do, he doesnât know how to survive without orbiting.
And heâll never call it love.
Heâll never call it obsession.
Heâll never call it possession.
Heâll call it:
âI just canât stand her.â
While memorizing the sound of your breathing when youâre tired.
While tracking your movements without thinking.
While rewriting reality to make you his.
While genuinely believing youâre in love with him.
While slowly, quietly, methodically erasing every version of your life that doesnât include him.
Š vvvchu 2026. do not copy, plagiarize, modify, or translate my work to other platforms. do not feed my work to any form of ai.
â minors dni, bully! stsg x reader, dubcon, exhibitionism, Ăłral [ m. receiving ], cĂłckwarming, facefĂşcking, pet names (princess, sweetheart, pet)
getoâs cock rests warm and heavy on your tongue, sprinkling the salty taste of precum onto your tastebuds. he shifts again in his seat, tilting his hips to shove his length a little further down your throat again, knowing itâs going to make you chokeâand it does. the tip pushes further towards the back of your throat, nearly forcing a gag to spring free, but you just manage to swallow it down. his other hand rubs a gentle thumb over your cheekâa wordless âgood petâ for remaining so quiet.
though youâre not exactly sucking him off, geto is perfectly content sitting with you like this, in the heated embrace of your mouth. he finds it a little comfy, to be honest. the library is chilly, and he prefers the warmth inside you over anything his clothes could provide. not to mention, heâs just getting your mouth ready, so there is an actual purpose to you being down there.
that reason would be entirely unknown to you, however. in your mind, this is just the average day of suguru geto being an asshole, cornering you and stuffing you beneath the most secluded desk and basically forcing you into things you didnât plan on doing. if you were somewhere else, in any other setting, you would have told him to get fucked and leave you alone because he has no right to be making demands like this. but youâre in public, and a library, of all places. thereâs too many people around, and itâs too quiet. someone like geto has surefire ways to have you raising your voice in less than a minute, and you do not need the entire building to know heâs trying to have you cockwarm him under the table. itâs easier to just deal with it; comply and hope he doesnât plan on using you for too long.
so, yes, you are doing this âwillinglyâ, in the loosest of terms. and it pisses you off that while youâre down here on bruised knees and getting fucking carpet burn, geto is leaned back as casually as he can, still reading through the pages of a book as your jaw grows sore. heâs been still besides the few purposeful thrusts of his hips to get you to chokeâasshole.
something catches his attention, and suddenly geto is slipping himself from your lips, tucking his length into his pants. youâre confused, but before you can maneuver yourself out of the cramped underside of the desk, there is someone else sliding into the chairâsomeone worse.
âheya, princess!â, gojo whispers a little too loudly, with beads of sweat rolling down his face. âcomfy down there?â
both your mouth and brows droop down into a scowl, the pair of men plainly amused at your cute, little expression.
âopen up, sweetheart,â gojo commands. heâs quick to undo his belt and pants, tugging his cock free from its confines. itâs stiff and throbbing already, leaking absurd amounts of pre down the length to drip onto his hand, where gojo gives himself slow, teasing pumps.
he doesnât give you time to prepare before heâs shoving his tip past your lips, rubbing himself over the wet insides of your mouth.
âyou ran through campus with a boner?â, geto snickers over his head, watchful eyes glancing between gojoâs manhandling of you and the vacant library to keep a lookout.
his snowy-haired other half is loud, making things way more obvious than geto did. not that he isnât aware, no, gojo simply doesnât give a fuck. heâs good at a lot of things, but practicing restraint is not one of them, and he damn sure isnât about to start now. especially not with you.
gojo darts a pink tongue out to wet his lips, messily clearing away locks of your hair to get a nice view of your pretty face as he thrusts sloppily into your mouth. âi câcouldnât, fuâck, help it. did you expect me toâ to take my time after you sent me that?â
his best friend only gives a low, delighted chuckle in reply. you catch getoâs gaze as he gives you a long stare, and then palms over the bulge in his pants.
âfuck, suguru got you all nice and loose for me.â, gojo pants, licking away a dewdrop of drool at the corner of his lips. he lets out a low groan, and you see getoâs head snap up to give someone a very menacing glare. âlook at him makinâ this nice and easy for us. thank him after iâm through, yeah?â
you donât respond, canât respond when gojoâs tip incessantly prods at the back of your throat. gags and chokes are ripped from your throat, muffled and low but surely noticeable by anyone nearby. you expect to be caught and kicked out any minute now, forced to do the walk of shame with these two dumbasses.
gojo slams you down on his cock, and he holds you there. your chest stutters, body heaves as you struggle for any breath of air through the fabric of his shirt pressed against your nose, or the white hairs at his base tickling your face.
just as quickly, heâs pulling you away, and you barely breathe in a single gasp before gojo is shooting ropes of cum to paint your face. you squeeze an eye shut as he almost spurts into your eye, him giggling childishly as he thumbs it away and pokes the same finger into your mouth for you to suck clean.
gojo tosses his head back to catch his own breath. he shoves his cock back into his boxers, straightening out his clothes before rubbing his hands through your ruffled hair.
â âkay, letâs go.â, he says proudly, grabbing you by the upper arm to pull you to your feet. â up, now, weâre going to your dorm.â
youâre puzzled. apparently, theyâre not done with you. ââŚwhy?â
⥠TW: noncon, toxic relationship, misogyny, chauvinism, possessiveness, controlling behaviour, other toxic traits, sorta spineless reader, but not really
⥠FEM reader
⥠PS: sorry to anyone named Franny or Carrie. The story required a couple of girl names.
You're on your way home in the dark.Â
It rained while you were at the club, having power-washed the asphalt now glittering under the moonlight. It's pretty when it's like this, but as a woman you can't help but feel a little on edge.Â
Your heart isn't entirely in your throat, but itâs definitely somewhere up there. Heels moving hurriedly, unbothered about splashing in shallow puddles as you stomp decidedly in a pathway straight home.
Drunken groups loiter around as the clubs all close up for the night, some hollering about grabbing a bite, others about grabbing some ass, and all you can think is hopefully, not your ass.
You could have gone home with a friend insteadâit would have been smarter maybe, and by smarter you mean saferâbut youâre getting older and the older you get the more the urge to sleep in your own bed at night becomes a necessity more than a preference.
Footsteps are all over the place, walking in different directions. Pat, pat, pat, pittering just like the rain. Aside from a few icky stares thrown your way and a handful of catcalls youâre not sure were for you or for some other poor girl, youâre starting to rest easy, knowing youâre nearly there.Â
But then you single out a pair. Pat, pat, pat, just behind you.
You cast a glance over your shoulder. Heart, now definitively, in your throat, with shudders running through you at the sight of the hooded figure at your back.
You walk a little faster. Eyes skittering around to see if there are any others around to witness the worst of your fears. Seeing youâre alone, you pick up the pace even more. Any faster now and youâd be jogging. Yet, you donât want to be too presumptuous. After all, you donât know if the guyâs even following you. It would be rude to treat him like heâs already committed a crime, when he isnât guilty of anything other than walking home. And so, out of courtesy, you give him the benefit of the doubt and stick to power-walking.Â
Gratefully, you make it to your outergate. Keys already in your hands. You're happy to find the keyhole on your first try. Even so, with thoughts regarding the worst still unpleasantly lingering in the back of your head, when you pull the door to yourself, you make sure to crack it open just wide enough for only you to slip through. Wanting it to close behind you quickly, so that the automatic lock could do its job and shut out whoever it was that might be following you.Â
You skip along, through the passage leading to the inner-yard, paranoid with a simultaneous feeling of being silly for feeling paranoid, side-eying the gate again before you turn the cornerâutterly horrified upon what you catch in your peripheral.Â
Shit, fuck-fuck-fuck, he made it inside. It's official then, heâs definitely fucking following you.Â
This time you skip jogging and go straight to running to reach the door to your block. Hands shaking a little too much to make it on the first try this time, but somehow you manage in your scramble, making sure to pull the door closed behind you, hearing it click in place, signalling that itâs been locked tight. Despite it, just in case you still straight jump up the stairs, two at a time to reach your flat.
You canât see it, but you hear itâhow he makes it through the second door.
Feeling a mix of terror and confusion all at once. You donât understand, youâre certain you heard the door lock, but somehow now itâs open again. Your keys jingle as you steady them to open your door in a panic. Listening to the stranger climb the stairs. Once itâs open you nearly tumble inside your apartment, all but slamming it shut to lock itâonly⌠along with your keys, thereâs another pair jingling in the staircase.
That's when you realize. Heâs not following you. He lives here. Heâs your fucking neighbour.Â
He lives in the apartment under you. He lives in the apartment under you and youâd clearly just treated him like some sort of a criminal. Heâs your neighbor and youâd all but slammed two doors in his face and sprinted away from him.
Embarrassment takes the place of your fear, filling it with regret and guilt. âShit.â
But can he blame you though? Dressed like that? Dark hood hiding his face, like some sort of thief in the night. What were you supposed to do? Hold the door open for him and say âHeya there, mysterious stranger, you wanna come join me for a nightcap?â
âShit,â you repeat to no one but yourself. Now youâre just being sarcastic because you feel bad.Â
You sigh, then decide youâll apologize next time you see him. A most dreaded and most-certainly awkward event which turns out to be as soon as the next day.
âOh! Hey!â Newly awoken from your drunken slumber, youâd just stepped out after a failed mission to find some breakfast in your fridgeâhaving found it completely empty except for a couple of expired tubes of condiments. âHey, you!â
You rush down the steps, seeing the guy from last night lurking outside his apartment door, keys in hand like heâs just locking up to go as well. He pulls out his earphones once he sees you, a little taken aback by the sight of you panting, all out of breath in front of him.
Jeez, you need to start taking the gym more seriously, you think to yourself as you catch your breath. âHey, listen, Iâm realâ sorry âbout the other night. That was so rude and uncalled for,â you apologize. Face all riddled with embarrassment and guilt, smiling at him in the awkward hope of his understanding forgiveness.
The only problem is, heâs got no idea who you are or âWhatâre you on about?â
Oh, you pause, maybe he hadnât noticed you? Still, you start explaining, âLast night, or well, this morning I guess, we came home at the same time. I was sorta⌠nearly, kinda running away from you? I was drunk and paranoidâI didnât know you live hereâI should have held the door open. Anyway, I just wanted to say sorry.â
His chin tilts up in recognition after that, âAh, right, yeah,â then waves his hand, saying, âNo worries. I know how it is. Dressed the way you were, I'd have been scared too. Hardly recognized you without that little dress you had on.â
You look down at yourself, all covered up in baggy sweatpants and a hoodieâa far cry from yesterdayâs get-upânow make-up free, not to mention your hair in a messy updo. No wonder he didnât put two and two together.
âRight,â you giggle then, suddenly feeling embarrassed for a whole other reason. You were just going to pop in and out to the storeâyou hadnât exactly accounted for anyone to see you. âYeah, I was just gonna grab some breakfast. Morninâ after and all thatâneed something fatty, you know?â
He returns your smile, way cooler than you, eyeing you like heâs amused before offering, only with a small pause, âHow âbout we go to the bakery around the corner? I'll forgive you for yesterday if you pay.â
It stuns you. Thinking, thatâs brazenâa little impressed by his forwardness. Your smile gets brighter with another laugh. This was not the morning you were expecting. But heck, why not?
âAâright, sure,â you agree, before putting up your pointer, jokingly stating, âBut then we better be square.â
He whistles, âSounds good to me.â
And thatâs how you end up having breakfast with your downstairs neighbour.
And as you sit there, opposite each other, you let your eyes wander because holy cow, heâs absolutely massive. Youâd noticed when you were standing inside as well, but youâd been too busy making your awkward apology to really have taken him in.
No wonder your female heart was cowering in your chest last night, it must have sensed the size of the guy from the sound of his footsteps. You're completely flabbergasted how youâve never seen him before. Two meters easily, big broad shoulders with a back you could build a house on and two gigantic arms that could easily lift it straight above his head and toss it across a football field if he wanted to.
He's a cop, you learn over breakfast. He hits the gym early and comes home during the day or works the late shift and comes home in the morning, which explains why youâve never run into him except last night. Heâs a bit of a routine junkie, he admits.Â
And, well, though he doesnât come clean about it, itâs not hard to tell how heâs also a bit of a flirt.
âI gotta be honest, I thought youâd lost your pants or something,â he chuckles, smirking at you playfully from atop his coffee cup, forcing a permanent heat in your cheeks as well as a cramp from the bashful smile youâre unable to make settle through all his teasing.
âQuit bullying my dress!â you nearly whine. âItâs cute. You canât deny itâs cute.â
He gives a canât-argue-with-that type of shrug. âI mean, yeah, I've just never seen such a thing besides on film,â he says, then inquires, âWhat were you up to anyway?â
âOh, you knowâŚâ You pluck the last blueberry off your plate, wondering if you should order more pancakes. âJustâ at the club with some friends. Dancinâ.âÂ
Popping the berry in your mouth, you decide against another round as you suck the cream off your digitsâthinking you should show some restraint in front of the gym-freak across from you. You wouldn't want to come across as a complete glutton either.
Besides, just looking at him is a meal enough on its own, and you can tell heâs enjoying you the same way. And so, you lay it on extra thick for him. âIt gets hot in there, so the less you wear the better.â
He scoffs, âOh, really?â brows raised, grinning at your display. âYou sure it ainât got nothinâ to do with makinâ people look?â
You make a show out of getting offended with a fake gasp, before bringing forth your wrists. Your voice thick with sardonic theatrics, speaking your words through a pout, âWell, arrest me, officer. I didnât know that was a crime.â
Shaking his head, he chuckles some more at you. âNah, youâre good. But maybe I should come along to chaperone you next timeâyou know, make sure you get home all safe and sound.â
He takes another sip of coffee while watching his words and how they affect you. Yeah, he knows exactly what heâs doing, the scoundrelâyou know he knows, shamelessly making you gush like this.Â
You bite your lipâitâs all you can do to keep yourself from kicking your feet. A man hasnât flirted with you in broad daylight like this in some time, you donât even know how long, and youâre not going to lie, itâs making you weak.
âYou donât have work?â you askâperhaps a little too eager.
But he doesnât seem to think so, answering with charm, âI get time off just like everyone else.â
You bite your lip, trying to force yourself into acting casual even though youâre squealing on the inside, âOkay, sure, why not? But you gotta promise you wonât be all police-like and stuff though.â
He chuckles again. âDonât worry. Iâll leave my gun at home.â
Yeah⌠You end up dating.Â
In fact, you make pasta together and fuck that very same night. Multiple times, multiple positions, multiple rooms, and, most important of all, multiple orgasms.Â
Youâve never been with a guy like him, outside of your fantasies. A monster truck of a man, heâs practically herculeanâhe could literally carry you on his back up a mountain if he wanted to. So of course the sex is amazing. He puts you in all kinds of crazy states youâve never been in beforeâfull-nelson, pile-driver, standing missionaryâhe fucking rails you like a jack hammer until your positively destroyed.
Honestly you werenât too sure you liked muscle freaks who could manhandle you any way they want, but now you can say youâve been fully baptised into the church of size difference and youâre afraid there will be no going back.Â
Not only is he built for it, but heâs good at it too. He knows how to foreplay, how to get you going, how to tease and make you all hot and bothered and desperate for it. Not just sexy, but playful. Always joking when knocking on your doorâsaying FBI open up while posted there in his uniformâroleplaying with it, frisking you after putting you under arrest with real handcuffs, even using his gun sometimesâunloaded, of course.
Outside of sex, heâs a real gentleman too. Takes you out for datesâdinners, parks, movies. Tells you that you look good and wraps you in his jacket when youâre looking chillyâor when he spots other guys leering.
Heâs just a really good guy overall. You actually really like him. And thatâs saying a lot, given how many shitty dating situationships youâve had over the past years. This might be something real.
Is what you thought until, wellâŚÂ
After a few weeks, it's revealed he doesn't like it when you go out by yourself.
Itâs nothing, at firstânot something you pay much mind to. Heâs just a bit protective, is allâany decent man who cares for his girlfriend will show some instinct regarding her safety when heâs not around. Itâs normal.Â
Still though, you canât help that it rubs you the wrong way just a bit.
Itâs dangerous, heâll argue, and you canât really disagree when you've already admitted to being scared going home alone. But even though you know it comes from a good placeâthat heâs just looking out for youâitâs still a little⌠you donât know. Patronizing?Â
At least, thatâs what it feels likeâŚ
Then again, he doesnât strike you as very traditional. Heâs supportive of your studies, comfortable watching chick flicks with you, doesnât care when you dress like a slob, joins you shopping, cooks for you, he even goes down on you. Like you said, heâs a good guy. And you really like him.
But shit⌠this increasing need of his to chaperone your every move? Youâre not going to lie, itâs getting a little annoying.
âGoing somewhere?â he stops you on your way out.
Youâd given one another the keys to each otherâs apartment some time ago now, and heâd taken it as an invitation to come by anytime he wanted. You thought it was sweet at first, and you still doâyour schedules donât always line up, so itâs nice to keep it easy-access. Itâs just, you already told him youâd be busy today.
âYeah, just out with some girlfriends,â you repeat, sitting down to put on the pair of strappy black heels youâd just bought, excited to hear what the girls will sayâalready hearing them go silly with cat-calls, howling compliments at you.
âLike that?â he questions, standing with his shoulder leaning against the wall and arms crossed over his chest.
You get up and do a spin, wearing a tight but classy black cocktail dress. âWhatâs wrong with this?â
He throws his brows up, scratching the back of his neck while stepping closer. âNothinâ.â He releases a sigh, dwarfing your waist in his hands, pulling you flush against him. âYou donât think it's a little dressy for a girlâs night?â
You pout, placing your chin on his chest, batting your lashes with puppy-dog eyes looking up at him. âI like looking nice, is that so bad?â
His hands travel, over the small of your back, down the dome of your ass, swaying with you in his arms. âNo. Of course not.â He sighs again, squeezing you tight. âI'm just jealous of whoeverâs gonna get to look at you all night.â
You smile, thinking, despite how it gets on your nerves just a bit, itâs still kind of cute how needy he is.
âWhereâ you going?â he asks, chin atop your crown, still keeping you close, as though charging himself up, knowing heâs going to be without you for the evening.
âJust the lounge down by the pier.â
He groans then, hauling you off by your forearms to give you a stern look. âYou know I don't like when you drink when I'm not around.â
You tilt your head and return his look with a softly patronizing one of your own, silently trying to tell him heâs being childish again like the two of youâd spoken about. Because you had told himâhow unreasonable it was. And as mentioned, you were beginning to get a little sick of having to tell him off about it.
When he doesnât say anything, you roll your eyes and show him enough sympathy to reassure him of how âItâs just gonna be a glass of wine.â
âMhâŚâ he hums, looking at you, not fully convinced. âGive me five minutes and I'll join you.â
âNo.â It slips before you give it much thought. And yet, even after having said it, despite it having been a bit rude, you still donât regret it or make any proceedings to take it back.
âNo?â he echoes. A little affrontedâto be expected.
Still, you donât let it deter you. âWell, itâs a girlâs night. You knowâŚâ you explain, hoping to appeal to his sense of reason. âIt would be rude if I brought you when the rest of the girls have left their man at home.â
It doesn't seem to persuade him. His face just scrunches, as though the entire idea of a girlâs night is absurd in and of itself, arguing, âTell âem to invite them then. Problem solved. None of you should be out on your own anyway.â
And itâs comments like that that really upset you. You bite your lip, trying to think of the most disarming responseânot wanting to fight it out right now, thinking you could bring it up later at a better time.
âI'll be home before ten. I'll only have one glass of wine. I'll take a taxi home. AndâŚâ You give him a playful smile as you wrap your arms around his neck and give the locks on his nape a light tug. âI'll make it up to you all night long.â
You feel his frame tense up at the offer, enticed by your words until he, at long last, finally grumbles out a defeated, âFine.âÂ
He releases you then, but doesnât leave you alone for too long before grabbing your chin.Â
âNo need for a Taxi, I'll come pick you up,â he says firmly, laying it forth like a condition to his allowing you to go. âStand ready outside at ten oâclock sharp.âÂ
Giving you a small kiss, he continues before you can voice any complaint.Â
âOr else I really will have to spend all night long punishing you.â
It gives you goosebumps. And yet, because you donât entirely hate the sound of it, you decide to treat it like a joke, and against reading all that deep into itâeven though youâre aware there might be some small truth behind the warning.Â
You know if your friends were to have heard it, theyâd probably disapprove, but come on⌠Being threatened with sex is harmless enough.Â
And so, you brush it off and play along, answering him with a bright and bushy-tailed, âYesâsir.â
To which he proudly smiles, âAttaâ girl.â
Despite promises made, that first glass of wine disappears quickly.Â
You never were much of a slow drinker. Not that youâre an alcoholic either, of course, itâs just⌠itâs hard pacing yourself when youâre in good company. And your girls? Well⌠letâs just say they know how to bring the party.
âAnother round of wine?â Franny declares more than asks.
You shrink back a little in your chair. Not only not wanting to be a bummer, but also fearing how theyâd most likely see right through it not being your decision, then actively begin to judge you for letting yourself be governed by your boyfriend.Â
Still, you shake your head and hope they might not catch on. âI shouldn'tââ
âWhat? Why?â Franny immediately boos, all but gawking at you from across the table like youâd just declared you were becoming a nun or something else equally baffling.
Carrie, on the other hand, doesn't seem surprised at all, throwing the rest of her wine back before mumbling, âOr else Mr. Officer will put her under arrest.â
Frannyâs head snaps to her at that, again, gasping, âWhat? Really?â
Carrie throws up a brow, cool like a mean-girl about it, âOh, you havenât heard?â before cocking her head back at you, putting you on the spot, âTell her then. Go on.â
You pout at her judgementalness, knowing you wonât be able to hide it either if she decides to pushâwhich she most certainly will. âCome on, heâs not that bad...â
Thatâs when her cool demeanor takes a twist, all but banging her glass on the table with her outburst, âGirl, be so real! Manâs a total chauvinist, you gotta break up with him.â
You werenât in the dark about her attitude regarding your relationship, so it doesnât exactly come as a big shock to hear her criticize it to your face. It wouldn't kill her to learn some tact though. Even so, youâre willing to forgive her, given you know her tolerance to be rather low and her need to be candid evidently very high.
âI like him,â you defend under her disapproving glare and Frannyâs wide-eyed stare, the both of them awaiting something more persuasive.
âBesidesâŚâ you drift, feeling the wine in your system forcing you to be a little more honest with both them and yourself. âHeâs my neighbour, you know⌠If I break up with him I'll still have to run into him.â
Carrie deadpans at that. Looking at your square in the eye with dull ones of her own, her mouth catching flies, back to being as suave as always while stating in a more-than-obvious manner, âStart looking for places to move.â
You sigh, pouting even more while you whine, âBut I like my apartment.â
Thereâs a moment of silence, as though in solidarity of your situation, letting you come to terms with what you have to do.
Franny lifts her glass after a moment. A sympathetic quirk on her lips, repeating, now suggestively in comfort, âAnother round of wine?â
You look at her, then at Carrie, who just shrugs, also with her glass in handâtone equally suggestive, âWe wonât snitch.âÂ
You bite your lip, letting their mischief rub off on you like you do so well. Smiling. âOh, fine. You win.â
The three of you chat more about each otherâs hopeless love pursuits, how no men are perfect, how friendship is so much more reliable, and how being alone might just be the only reasonable thing for any one of you.
You like him, but you can see Carrieâs point. Youâve had the same concerns yourself, despite not wording them as harshly as her. Of course you donât enjoy having to argue about going out with your friends or dressing the way you want.Â
Having to ask permission for such things doesnât make sense to you, and it never will. Youâre a grown woman who pays her own bills. You donât have to run your decisions by anyone. And even if you did feel the need, it would be out of pure considerationâsimply to keep the other person in the loop, and not something to be discussedâat the very least not something to be prohibited. Youâre not a prisoner, and youâre certainly no child either.
Shit, you donât know⌠maybe dating the guy in your building wasnât the brightest decision after all.
âI said ten,â he admonishes as you step towards the parking lot.Â
Itâs just gotten dark. Youâd hadnât seen him yet and so the sudden sound of his voice spooks you, making you slap a hand over your pulse with a gasp.
If he notices, he doesnât seem to mind. Not offering you an apology. Rather the opposite. Standing there, posted against his squad car with his arms folded upon his chestâstaring at you like some criminal, awaiting your confession.
âSorry, it took some time figuring out the billââ
âYou're drunk,â he cuts you off, shaking his head in disapproval as he goes to grab your purse in one hand and your upper arm in the other.
âNo,â you argue sharply, saying âI'm not drunk.â because you most certainly are not. In fact, between two glasses of wine and a whole meal, you wouldn't even describe it as being tipsy.
He ignores you while opening the door to the passenger seat, ushering you inside with a strict, âGet in the car.â
You have to roll your eyes. Sarcastically thanking him for not going so far as to place you in the back like an actual arrestee, muttering, âYes, sir.â under your breath.
He then even leans across you to put on your seatbelt, prompting you to almost push him off. Saying, âDude, chill. I had two glasses of wine. Like, howââ
âWe agreed on one,â he cuts you off again, making it very clear how little interest he had in hearing any of it.
Again, like his previous comments, it upsets you. In fact, itâs the last straw. âYeah? Well, youâre not the boss of me. If I want another glass of wine, itâs in my rights to fucking have one.â
You donât scream it, and yet, he acts like you do. Scolding you like youâre some child throwing a tantrum, nearly growling at you in return, âLower your voice. I'm not having this discussion with you if youâre going to be yelling.â
You can only scoff, completely flabbergasted by him and his behaviour. âUgh, youâre so infuriating sometimes,â you nearly shriek, though he shuts the door in your face before hearing it.
He gets in the driverâs seat, snaps his belt in place, and veers out of the lot in one swift movement. In any other circumstance, youâd find his capabilities assuringâmaybe even a little arousing. But, right now it only serves to piss you off.
The rest of the drive is silent. You keep your gaze fixed out of the window, not even acknowledging the way his wrist go white wringing the wheelâprobably sitting there waiting for you to beg his forgiveness or something stupid.
You donât know what to say. All you know is that youâre going home by yourself.Â
âGive me my purse,â you demand once youâre outside his apartment. Your hand stretched out, waiting for him to hand it to you. Youâd abandon it if it weren't for the unfortunate fact that your keys and your phone were both confiscated within it.
âYouâll get it once weâre inside,â he sighs, his entire back bulking with the action, standing with it facing you as he unlocks the door. Again, flat-out ignoring you as if you had no say in the matter.
âNo,â you protest, insisting, âI'm going to my own apartment, so give me my purse.â
With his hand once again around your upper arm, he tugs on you despite you planting your feet and pulling back. âDonât be difficult.â
You grab his wrist, trying to twist it off, but failing. âI donât need you to baby meâIâm not a fucking child.â
âOh yeah? You could have fooled me, standing here throwing a fit for everyone to hear.â He only tightens his grip, tugging you harderâso hard youâre forced off balance and nearly fall straight into him. âNow get your butt inside before I throw you over my shoulder.â
He doesnât give you any time or room to refuse, all but dragging you inside and placing you on the couch with a mean and very nearly brutal shove. âSit down.â
He then gets down on one knee in front of you. Hands lifting your foot onto his thigh as he begins undoing the straps to your heels.
âI can do that myselfââ you try to pry it away from him, but he only pulls it back into place.
âJust sit.â
You donât know what to do at that point. Eyeing him and the way he was positively radiating annoyance. Youâre equally frustrated, and still, you canât help but be struck with this sensation that it doesnât matter much when heâs more equipped in enacting his will.Â
In the end, you just sit there like heâd commanded, at a loss for what you could do or sayâand only getting more frustrated by it.
âNow this,â he declares once done, gesturing to your dress as he gets up, fingers clawing under the hem, beginning to pull it up.
âStop it already. I said I can do it myself!â Your hands are on his chest then, having had enoughâthis time officially. âUgh, just get off, Iâm going home!â
You donât know what happened, but something instinctual must have kicked in once it was clear he wouldnât listen, because suddenly, without warning, you kicked him in the shin in order to get him off.
But little good it does you...
In fact, it only makes the following events that much worse.
âWhat's gotten into you, huh? Acting so fuckinâ brattyââÂ
His hand is atop your mouth like a piece of duct tape, trapping all unwanted noise beneath it. Heâs got you lying on your back now, himself on top of you. Your dress balled up in his other fist, this time opting to rip it off rather than tug you out of it.Â
âI swear, nothing good ever comes from letting you women yap amongst yourselvesâyou always come back with so much attitude and dumb ideas I gottâa straighten out.âÂ
Your struggles seem to mean nothing to himâall efforts to thwart him, easily ignored.Â
âYou can bet your ass this is the last time I let you go anywhere with those sluts. I mean, just look at youâdressed like a fucking whore. A shitty fucking influence the lot of âem.âÂ
He succeeds in tearing the dress, throwing it across the floor like trashâpassing little consideration to the way it has you squirming beneath him with fat tears now streaming down your cheeks, soaking his fingers in a way that should have been enough to reconsider.
And yet, his eyes seem more concerned with your other articles.Â
âYou even wear pretty underwear for âemâfuckâs that about, huh?â Clicking his tongue, the frown on his face is enough to make your stomach churnâfully terrified of what he meant to do next.Â
âWhatâs left for me?â His eyes meet yours, demanding an answer from you even though your lips were sealed under his grip. âIf you go parading around for the entire fucking world to see, whatâs left?âÂ
His other hand balls up into a fist, then bangs against the back cushion to the side of your face, hard enough to make the entire couch skirt just a bit, making you let out a muffled scream, followed by a whimper as you shut your eyes hard and start praying.
âIâm the only one whoâs supposed to see you like this. Itâs supposed to be my fucking privilege. Something special for me to cherish.âÂ
You feel his touch return to you, and you tremble receiving it, despite it only softly stroking your skin in ticklish touches, down your chest and belly until stopping at the lace of your panties.Â
Thereâs a heavy sigh, loud enough for the pursuing silence to feel deafening.
âBut I guess⌠if youâre gonna act like a cheap whore, I might as well treat you like one.â
The quickening beat of your heart makes it hard to breathe while your eyes blow open wide at the feel of him tearing at the lace. Your sobbing turns more violent, while your hands fly to keep the flimsy garment in place.Â
âNo? You donât want that?â he mocks without humor, and you try your best to shake your head under his hold, every thought begging him to stop.Â
Teeth grit, he continues, âThen quit being difficult and start doing what I say. Can you do that?â
You peel your eyes open, now nearly choking on the tears clogging your nose. Sniveling as you give him pitiful nods, hoping it will suffice.
âGood,â he affirms.Â
His hold relents after that, just enough for you to be able to suck in a breath. Sill though, calming down takes you a moment, and even then you never fully manage completelyâjust enough to turn your sobbing into softer bleating.
He allows you the time to recover, before getting up and demanding the same of you.Â
âCome on. Bathroom.â
His handâs on your nape, guiding you like a leash and collar. You keep your head bowed, feeling exposed as you shuffle along just in front of him. Regarding him like a beast on your heels.
You enter the bathroom, where he positions you in front of the sink.
âLetâs get all this clown shit off.âÂ
His actions are gentler now, but they still feel anything but. Still making you sniffle as you stand there, knees wobbly, stuck in shock as he proceeds to find your makeup remover.
Your breaths are wintry as you stand there, both hands shaking, holding onto the white marble, staring into the drain, terrified to meet his reflection in the mirror above as he starts to drag a wet wipe over your cheeks and lips, rubbing your no-doubt ruined make-up off.Â
You watch as each cotton-cloth is discarded one after the other in the basin below, flecked with black mascara streaks and pink rouge, the latest one cleaner than the first few.
âThere she isâthatâs better,â he coos once done. Caressing your face in his hand as he lifts it up to look straight ahead.Â
You donât want to, but the way his fingers all rub against your jugular, is enough for you to take as a warning. Seeing yourselfâyour eyes puffy, lashes gathered in wet wisps, bottom lip trembling.Â
âMy pretty girl.â
He sags forward, lowering his mouth to your neck, kissing you there in slow but heavy mouthfuls. His other hand, the one not holding you by the throat, is snaked around your midriff with his arm across your body, pushing you against him and the way he angles his hips against your ass and grinds into you from the back.
âIâm sorry for getting upset,â he murmurs with a groan then, but itâs not an effective apology. âItâs just so frustrating, you know? To be here, worrying about you out thereâepsecially when you donât take any safety precautions. You justâŚâ His mouth reaches your ear, nuzzling the shell, his breath making it burn. âYou drive me fucking nuts.â
You donât dare reply. You donât dare do anything. You just keep clutching onto the sink, as though letting go would result in him pulling you away somewhere more dangerous.
âYouâre so cruelâalways leaving me with my dick in my hand.â His hands fall to your hips, his grip bruising as he kneads you against him and the hard thing jabbing itself against your ass.
âIâm sorryââ comes out of your mouth before you can think.
To which he releases a pent-up chuckle. âThatâs okayâŚâÂ
He rests his chin on his shoulder, mouth perfectly level with your ear with words holding onto something utterly horrid, saying, âItâs like you saidâyou can make it up to me.â
(warnings: yandere(?), mei mei being weird, gojo fantasizes about killing her TT, dubcon but not rlly)
Satoru knew she shouldnât have invited you.
Not because of you. There is nothing wrong with you. Sheâs so happy you made it to her birthday party, no matter how nonchalant she acts. There isnât anything wrong with her either, at least, not anymore. These days, sheâs gotten good at hiding the lump in her throat every time she sees you. She can ignore the jolt in her heart every time she hears your laugh. She can catch herself from staring at you like sheâs inâ
So, no, Satoru shouldnât have invited you because of you. Satoru shouldnât have invited you because she knew you would bring Mei Mei.
âYouâre glaring, again.â Suguru comments.
Satoru works her jaw, but she can't seem to rip her gaze off you two. You were giggling at something Mei said that could not possibly be that funny. Mei's hand had not left your hip since the beginning of the evening.
âIâm not,â Satoru says.
âYouâre glowering, actually.â Shoko corrects and Satoruâs pretty sure sheâs only here for the free booze. Shoko could hardly care about the expensive restaurant Satoru rented out for the night or anything else she set up. She came to drink and judge.
âIâm not,â Satoru hisses, but even she can hear the venom in her tone. Itâs thick, the kind that sticks to the top of her mouth. She clicks her tongue, like sheâs trying to roll back the poison.
âI just donât get whatâs so great about her.â She starts as you laugh at yet another joke Mei made. If sheâs so funny, she should consider a career in comedy.
âCan you stop thirsting over my enemyâs boobs, please?â Satoru tried not to look down at her nearly non-existent pair.
They werenât even that big, anyway. Mei probably padded them. Or they were fake. Besides, Satoru was sure you didnât care about looks or how big her tits were. You go for personality. Satoru has a great personality.
âWhat are you talking about? Your personality is shit,â Suguru tells her.
âSo is Meiâs.â Satoru argues.
âSomehow, sheâs slightly less arrogant than you are.â Shoko takes a sip of her drink. âYou two would make a perfect couple, honestly.â
Satoru wrinkles her nose. âEugh, donât even joke about that. Iâm pretty sure sheâs likeâŚa distant cousin, or something.â
Maybe a family friend, she isnât sure. Sheâs known Mei Mei since she was a kid. Her family was on the outskirts of the Gojoâs for as long as she can remember. She used to call those types of people leeches, the kind that try to mooch off of her family and wealth and status, eager for a morsel of what she is.
âIf you hate her so much, then why did you invite her?â Suguru asks.
âI didnât.â Satoru groans.
She invited you and then you invited your girlfriend because, of course you did. Itâs not like Satoru could say no, either. Technically she knew Mei longer than she knew you. Itâd be weird if she invited her acquaintanceâs girlfriend and not the acquaintance.
âIâm just saying I could beâŚâ Toru trails off.
âBetter?â Suguru finishes her sentence.
Satoru gives a helpless shrug, but yeah, she did think she was better than Mei. Sheâd never ask directly, but sheâs heard rumors of your relationship. Apparently Mei insisted on you paying, even though she came from old money herself. Satoru also heard that Mei forced you into an open relationship where she gets to go out on weekends while you have to stay home alone.
If youâd chosen her, Satoru would never dare make you take out your wallet. She would never leave you alone at night. Satoru may have been a pretty shit girlfriend in her previous relationships, but she knows with you sheâd be different. Being with you would change her. Youâd make her softer and less guarded. You might even convince her to get the therapy she and the rest of the Gojo family line desperately needed. Youâd fix whatever was wrong with her. She knows it.
If only youâd chosen her.
Shoko steps on her foot. Satoru hisses.
âYour âone and onlyâ is headed our way,â Shoko tells her.
Sure enough, youâd slipped out of Meiâs grasp, walking up to them with a large smile on your lips. When your eyes meet hers, you give an excited wave. Satoru returns it.
Satoru tries not to fix her hair. She looks amazing. She always looks amazing. People have told her she looks like a model when sheâs practically rolled out of bed. Hell, agencies have practically begged her to model for them. She gets confession letters from strangers every week. She always looks effortlessly amazing. You just have a bad habit of making her want to double check.
âDonât say that.â Satoru mumbles as her eyes cling to your form. âYou act like Iâm obsessed or something.â
âYou are, though.â Suguru reminds her. âTo the point where you ignore every red flag waving in your face.â
Satoru fights the urge to grimace. You have no red flags. Youâre just caught in a really bad relationship right now. Before she can defend you, youâve reached their table.
You greet Shoko and Suguru first. They return your hug just as enthusiastically. Your eyes glimmer when you turn to Satoru. She feels a lump form in the back of her throat.
âThereâs our birthday girl! Toru!â You cheer, swathing Satoru in the tightest hug. She gets a whiff of your perfume. Itâs something light but expensive. She memorizes the scent, breathing you in. She hopes you canât hear the thudding of her heartbeat. Itâs loud in her ears. Almost painful. Being around you is painful.
âHey.â Satoru says, returning your hug. âIâm really glad you made it.â
You lean back, meeting her eyes. Your eyes crinkle in warm affection. The music switches to something a little more upbeat on the dance floor.
âOf course, Toru.â You tell her. âWouldnât miss it for the world.â
Satoruâs stomach flip flops and she tries not to think too much about your words.
âSo.â You lean on her table, tilting your head in her direction. âWhatâs it like finally being 21?â
You reach into your bag, grabbing your over priced lip oil that might be cherry or strawberry flavored. Sheâs always wanted to know, but she canât bring herself to ask. Instead, she watches as you smear it all over your lips. Itâs not even meant to be seductive. You just have that effect on her, sometimesâall the time.
She glances over at her watered down drink. She hates alcohol. Sheâs stuck to soda all night.
âDrinking legally isnât as fun.â
To be honest, she only says that to hear your sweet laugh. It works. You sound like bells in the wind or whatever romantics are supposed to think when theyâre in love. She's not the best with words. You sound beautiful. She loves your laugh.
âThatâs what everyone says.â You tell her like youâre decades apart and not just a couple years older than her.
You act like a mother sometimes. A part of her hates it when you do that. She wishes you could see her as the woman she is instead of the stupid pudgy kid you met all those years ago. She wishes you wouldnât be as coddling or borderline-condescending with your voice and tone.
Another part of her wonders how youâd react if she called you mommy.
âGirls.â On cue, your voice is low and strict. Satoru squeezes her thighs together.
You look at the three disapprovingly.
âWhy are we sitting here instead of the dance floor? Up up up! Letâs go dance!â You urge.
Shoko shrugs and gets to her feet. Suguru follows, but Satoru knows sheâs only going to piss her off. As if to prove that, Suguru lingers by your side, like sheâs trying to get a whiff of your perfume. She gives Satoru a smug look. Satoru tries not to react.
As much as she wants to grind on you, Satoru doesnât move as you drag her friends to the dance floor. Shoko downs the last of her drink. Suguru carries her cup with her.
âIâll be there in a bit.â Satoru gestures to her drink. âLemme finish up.â
You wave her off as you continue tugging on her friends. You had your nails doneâa light pastel pink. Itâs her favorite color. She loves pink. It looks incredible on you.
Your dress is short, ending just below your thigh. If you bent over, she would probably see your ass. The dress hugs your curves so nicely. Itâs a shade of blue. Her shade of blue.
It means nothing. She knows nothing you did tonight meant anything. Your words, your voice, your clothes were all just coincidences she was seeing because she was an idiot who was head over heels in love with someone she couldnât have.
Suguru was right. She was obsessed with you. She thought about you every day. Sometimes she even dreams about you and your smile and she swears she wants to keep her dreams family-friendly but she canât help fantasizing about you in even less clothes.
She canât help but wonder how youâd sound in bed. What sort of noises would you make? Are you loud or are you quiet? She really hoped you were the latter. She really hoped you played hard to get, the type whoâd have to make her work for your moans and whimpers. She wanted to earn pleasure from you.
This isnât healthy. Sheâs not delusional enough to think it is. Her friends are right. She needs to move on, find someone else. Clearly, youâre happy with Mei, you wonât be leaving her anytime soon. She lost hope in that a long time ago. No matter how many times you two broke up and spent time apart, you always ended up finding each other. From the outside, itâs borderline painful to watch.
It would be nice to have a bit of closure, though. Maybe she should tell you about her feelings so she can completely move on? Then she could cut contact and never think about you again.
It would be nice to have closure. A drop. Barely a crumb.
âDrooling over my girlfriend while Iâm right here? Thatâs bold of you.â
Immediately, Satoru wipes her mouth. Shit, she was drooling.
She doesnât turn in Meiâs direction. She already knows her face would be smug and detestable and punchable.
âI was just thinking.â
Mei hums, sliding into Shokoâs seat despite being uninvited. Satoruâs forced to sit in an uncomfortable silence for eons. After a while, she starts to squirm off her seat, eager to join you and her friends. You three seemed to be having way more fun than she was on her birthday. Shokoâs already drunk and laughing, tripping in her heels as you try to hold her up. Youâre laughing too. Youâre so pretty underneath the lights. The shade of the dress really brings out your eyes.
âIâm surprised youâre still carrying a torch. Thought you wouldâve given up by now.â
She knows she should walk away, Mei is always looking to antagonize. Still, she keeps herself planted in her seat.
âMaybe Iâm just waiting for your girlfriend to realize how shitty you are and finally dump you.â
Mei nods along, barely reacting to the bait. It makes Satoru even angrier. She can never get this woman to go lower. Itâs aggravating that she always appears to take the âhigh roadâ even when they both know thatâs not true.
âThat might not happen for a while.â She muses. âWeâre more alike than you think.â She sends Satoru a coy smile through pointed lips, like she is laughing at a joke and Satoruâs the punchline.
Satoru averts her gaze.
âWhy do you care about me anyway?â She prods. âAfraid Iâll steal your girl right under your nose?â
Thatâd probably never happen, not when Toru can see with her own eyes how much you adore Mei and treat her like a little sister. At this point, sheâs saying words for the hell of it.
Mei laughs. It makes Satoru bristle.
âSteal? Youâre a funny one.â Mei assures before contemplating something a bit more.
âHm, maybe for the night. For a hefty sum, of course.â
It took Satoru a minute to understand what Mei insinuated.
Satoruâs face screws up in disgust.
âDonât fucking joke about pimping out your girlfriend.â Satoru hisses as she swallows down the lurch of excitement. She squashes it down, pretending disgust was the only thing she felt at Meiâs words.
She laughs again.
âI wouldnât exactly call it that,â she corrects.
âItâs something a bit tamer.â
âIâm leaving,â Satoru says.
She doesnât move from her seat, as much as she knows she should. She should run and forget about Mei and how creepy she is. She should go to you and tell you how gross your girlfriend is.
Satoru doesnât.
âIâm sure you always wished for closure as you pinned away,â Mei wonders, âwouldnât it be nice to finally get that closure? For just one night?â
What sheâs proposing isnât closure. Closure is something Satoru gets herself. That was the only right answer.
Satoru opens her mouth. Nothing comes out.
Her gaze drifts over to where you wereâ smiling and happy. You look beautiful tonight. She never got the chance to tell you.
âAnything has a price, if youâre desperate enough,â Mei says.
Satoruâs eyes cling to your hips and the way you sway to the music. Her throat feels dry. She can feel her heart right in her mouth. She shouldnât, she really shouldnât.
âHow much?â She finally brings herself to ask.
~
Even now, Satoru knows she could walk away.
Sitting here in Meiâs penthouse, twiddling her thumbs as she waits. The home the two of you shared was nice. Clearly, you decorated most of the living room. The glass coffee table held a tiny porcelain elephant. Soft washes of pastels filled the surrounding paintings. She could sniff out the lingering scent of linen in the air. She canât imagine Mei doing a chore so domestic like laundry. The trace of you is everywhere. It makes her dizzy.
Itâs soâŚcouple-eque. Double. Complete. Every detail screams that she does not belong.
She could walk away. She should walk away. She still can.
Yet, she waits until Mei Mei comes back with a coy smile. Toru tries not to jump up when Mei points to the room sitting innocently behind her.
âAll yours.â She trills sweetly.
Toru watches with a rabbit heartbeat as Mei starts putting on her jacket.
âWhere are you going?â She calls.
âGiving the two of you some alone time.â Mei responds. âSo you can go all out. No need to feel shy.â
Toruâs about to bristle, argue she isnât shy, or maybe sheâs about to leave herself. She doesnât know what sheâs about to do, because Meiâs already gone and the apartment is quiet all over again.
She could still walk away.
Thatâs what Toru repeats to herself over and over again as she slowly makes her way to the bedroom. She hasnât gone too far, yet. She could turn back, forget about whatever she was about to do. Everything would be fine if she turned back right now.
Her hands shake as she turns the golden knob.
Satoruâs heart drops into her stomach the moment she sees you.
Youâre gorgeous, as you always are. In public, you never show that much skin, leaving everything up to the imagination. In your private sanctuary, she can see every curve and roll of soft skin she fantasized about for years. The frilly babydoll you wear perfectly accentuates your tits. Your thighs are open and casually laid out, giving her a hint of lacy blue pantiesâher color. Youâre splayed out on your velvety soft bed, ripe for the taking.
Itâd be perfect, if not for one thing.
You were blindfolded.
âWhere did you go off to?â You ask in a tone Toruâd never heard before, blindly reaching for her.
You thought she was Meiâyour girlfriend.
Satoru wondered how Mei convinced you into playing along. Toru hadnât realized Mei just hadnât. That was just like her to take the easier option in the name of profit. Like she has this entire night, Satoru curses out Meiâs name.
She could still turn back. She hasnât gone too far, yet. Nothingâs been ruined. If she walked out now, everything would be just as it were.
âCome here.â You coo, grabbing onto air again. âIâm getting cold.â Your voice sinks into a sultry whisper.
She follows your voice, helpless to your pleas. When she barely touches the bed, you reach for her, tugging on her hand, bringing her close to you.
She can feel you as she slowly crawls into the bed. Every inch of your shape and form. Toru traces shaky fingers across your neck. You sigh in delight as she touches you, letting her map out every trace of your skin.
âYou feel so nice,â you purr as she cups your face. She wants to say something too, but sheâs too scared of breaking this fantasy sheâs dreamed of for so long. She wants to keep it for just a bit longer.
Your lips are wet with desire. Itâs clearly a trap. Once she does this, thereâs no going back.
She falls for it: hook, line, and sinker.
The kiss is slow and tentative, like sheâs trying not to break you. You kiss her back, melding your lips back into her own. Itâs sweet. She tastes a bit of that cherry lip oil you were teasing her with earlier that night. Itâs just as addicting as your perfume.
Eventually, she canât help herself. Neither can you, from the way you grab her hips, allowing her to straddle you. The kiss turns ravenousâlike you want to devour her just as desperately she wants to devour you.
When you pull away, thereâs a trail of blood on your lips. Itâs not yours.
âSomeoneâs excited.â You giggle before she really needs you to stop talking and make her forget sheâs doing something terrible. She kisses you again, pushing you down into the bed.
You collide into a pile of pillows. She follows. Itâs so easyâyou make things so easy. When you silently tug off her clothes, she canât help but blindly follow. She shrugs off her dress, letting it fumble onto a heap on the floor as she gets back on top of you. At this point, sheâs more naked than youâbarely clothed in her bra and panties. Sheâs more than happy to level the playing field.
Sheâs more eager to tear off your own clothes. You giggle again as she shrugs off the straps of your dress, revealing your perfect tits. The way they bounce is almost pornographic. She freezes as she stares.
As if to guide her, you reach for her, grabbing her by the back of the neck to coax her down. She follows, instinctively opening her mouth just as she meets your plush tits.
Once she starts, itâs like she canât stop. Youâre intoxicating as she latches onto your nipples, feeling at your skin. Her other hand reaches for your other one, not wanting to abandon any part of you as she continues to worship your breasts. Above her, youâre moaning like youâre being paid for it, your sighs and hitches turning into whines and meaningless words.
You encourage her with your hand on the back of her head, delicately carding through her hair as she continues to take your fill. Only when she snaps out of her euphoria and lifts herself up, does she realize her panties have severely dampened.
Sheâs never been this wet in her life.
And apparently, youâre just as greedy.
âHurry up,â you whisper, tugging on her again.
âNeed you.â
âGimme a second, pretty girl,â she desperately wants to say but she keeps quiet because this fantasy is hers and hers only, âso needy.â Not that sheâs complaining.
Youâve already spread your legs by the time sheâs gotten her panties off. She receives a good look at your pussy, barely covered by your thin panties. Her heart is going a mile a minute. She doesnât know if itâs hotter to keep your panties on or if she should just rip them off right now. She doesnât know what she wants to do with you first. Eat you out? Ride you until youâre both screaming?
You make the decision for her.
Firm hands grab her hips, hoisting her down as you straddle her. Your skin is sheen with sweat as you lower your hips onto hers, slightly pushing her back. She can barely compute what youâre doing until your clit kisses hers.
A small âoh fuckâ leaves her lips, before sheâs slapping a hand over her mouth. You barely even registered it, practically mewling as you grind on her pussy. Youâre insatiable, riding her like your life depended on it.
Sex crazed. Needy. Craving everything she could possibly give you and more.
Satoru has to bite her tongue so she doesnât accidentally yell âI love you, I love you, I love youâ in the middle of the greatest fuck of her life.
A terrible thought crosses Satoruâs mind that has her rolling her eyes to the back of her head as yet another bolt of pleasure goes through her.
Is she fucking you better than your girlfriend?
Itâs a terrible thought. A horrible one. But your breathless moans are making her pussy tighten and spasm in ways sheâs never felt before.
You yelp when she grabs your hips, forcing you to go faster than before as you sink into her. Her grip is so tight she knows sheâll leave marks on you tomorrow. Mei Mei might even be the one who finds them.
Mei, you basically pimped you out the moment she knew she had something to gain. Mei, who only cares about money, not the beautiful girlfriend she has at home, whoâs currently making Satoru see stars.
Satoru wants to fuck you better than Mei. She wants you to scream louder than you ever have with her. She wants you to have the best sex of your life before she has to let you go, back to your poor excuse of a girlfriend.
Satoru can treat you better, and she can fuck you better.
If she were Mei, sheâd never even dream of sharing you, no matter how many millions anyone threw at her.
Youâd be hers, until your bodies crumbled into ash and dust, and even in the afterlife sheâd still be fucking you. Sheâd fuck you until the end of time and even then some. No one would be able to pull her away, not even the devil himself. Thereâs no place sheâd rather be than grinding on top of you, feeling your pussy clench against hers. She reaches out to rub at your clit. You whine and you shake above her as you grow closer and closer to the edge.
She comes at the same time as you do. You slump onto her shoulder, too weak to do anything as you both ride out your orgasms in a silent scream. She clings onto you after the last wave has passed and her pussy is still clenching at nothing. You pepper her neck with chaste kisses. She closes her eyes in the aftercare, laying you on the bed right next to her.
She fits against you perfectly, like a jigsaw puzzle. Your head settles in the crook of her neck, leaving love bites on her collarbone. Satoru lets you snake your arms around her waist. She brings you closer to her side, wanting to inhale your comforting scent.
Youâre an addiction. She already knew that. There was no way she could stop at just once. She needed this fix for the rest of her life.
She had to do something about Mei. She knows a few people who could get things done. Sheâd just need an excuse to get it done. An alibi. Then she could pathetically worm her way into your heart when itâs all said and done. Youâd need a shoulder to cry on, right? She could be that shoulder for as long as you need her to be. She could be anything you wantedâ
âOh, and Toru?â
Satoru goes cold. Out of panic, she lifts herself up. Your grip tightens around her waist, keeping her there. Your blindfold is still on. She wonders if itâs all that opaque as she initially thought.
TW: AFAB!Reader, No Curses/College AU, Non/Con, Long-Term Stalking + Harassment, Obsessive Behavior, Consensual Touching, and Social Isolation.
You shouldnât have come to this stupid party.
This was a fundamental truth that you were glaringly, depressingly aware of from the second you stepped through the frat houseâs cheaply painted door. The lights were dimmed in a way that came off as less of an attempt at ambiance thing and more of a tripping hazard. The AC was broken and you were dressed in too many layers for the thick, moist air of a frat party in the tail end of spring. You only knew two people here, including your roommate, and you were only on speaking terms with one of them.
Worst of all, Itadori Yuuji hadnât stopped staring at you in the better part of an hour.
He probably thought he was being subtle. Youâd fled to the front porch shortly after arriving, but even that meager distance did little to help when you could see him out of the corner of your eye, stealing glances at you from the living room couch through the water-stained window as he played some terrible first-person shooter with a couple members of the fraternity. You were making a considerable effort to ignore him, but it was easier said than done. Try as you might, you couldnât seem to concentrate on anything other than the weight of his gaze, the knot of anxiety forming in the pit of your stomach, the memories of his voice calling out to you inâ
âAre you good?â
You blinked. Nobara was squinting at you, her head cocked to the side. Nodding hastily, you rushed to answer before fully processing her question. âYeah, Iâm fine. Just a littleââ You paused, forcing yourself to laugh. âJust zoned out, I guess.â
She hummed, unconvinced. Next to her, the other girl youâd been talking to - Maki - smirked and slung an arm over Nobaraâs shoulders. âBlame your friend. Heâs got a bit of a staring problem.â
She glanced into the living room. âYuuji? Heâs harmless.â And then, to you, âYou know him, right?â
The panic was a ice-cold stake to your chest. You shook your head, moved to tell her that no, really, it was alright, you were just having an off-night, youâd give her all the money in your wallet if she just didnât do this, but it was already too late. Nobara turned to the window, raising a hand, and you watched in frozen horror as she waved to Yuuji, gesturing for him to join you.
He was off the couch and out the door before you could so much as think to make a run for it.
Maki was greeted with a nod, Nobara a hasty fist bump. You were pulled into a hug before you had the chance to object - his smothering physical affection saved for you and you alone. Even when he drew back, it was only far enough to position himself behind you and drape his arms around your waist. You could feel his breath on the dip of your shoulder, the scar at the corner of his lips ghosting over the base of your throat. It felt as if you were about to crawl out of your skin, but if your discomfort was visible, Maki and Nobara were both kind enough to ignore it. The former seemed disinterested while the latter only grinned.
âSo you two do know each other.â
âObviously.â Yuuji couldnât have sounded happier. You felt yourself shrink underneath him. âWe met last semester, in that class I failed.â
Nobara laughed. âSo, like, any class youâve literally ever taken.â
âShut the fuck up.â The words were harsh, but his affection was light, cheery. Nobara brightened. Even Maki cracked a smile. Yuuji had that effect on people. He made them happy. He made them like him.
You werenât sure why it didnât work the same way, for you.
âWe had this project together, andââ His hands dropped lower, falling a little too close to your hips. âDo you want to tell them what you said when I asked for your number, babe?â
âIt wasnât necessary for the assignment,â you recited, flatly.
âI got it anyway, though.â You cringed at the reminder. Youâd changed it, since then, but thatâd only stopped the flood of texts for a few days. All innocent things - questions about your day or pictures of cute dogs on campus. Nothing you could show to anyone else without seeming like you were crazy one for being bothered. âAnd weâve been inseparable ever since.â
He was leaving things out. All the times heâd sat next to you in class, always more than happy to move along with you whenever you decided to switch seats. How often heâd coincidentally show up at the library while you were studying, despite never having reviewed for a test in his life. The hours of sleep youâd lost to dreading the next time youâd see him, the next time heâd stand too close or stare too long or talk about the two of you like you were good friends. You mightâve been able to cope, if you had someone to talk to. Butâ
Makiâs chuckled. She met your eyes, and her grin widened. âThat wouldâve been pretty scary, if itâd been anyone else. Bet youâre glad youâve got the nicest guy on campus for a stalker, huh?â
You wanted to scream.
But everyone loved Yuuji.
You shrugged him off, starting for the front door. âI need toââ
âYouâre right. We should dance.â Immediately, he was in front of you, grabbing your wrist. âCâmon, Togeâs getting the speakers hooked up out back.â
"Iâm good. Maybe later.â
You tried to pull yourself out of his hold. His grip tightened.
âDo you want something to drink? I made sure weâre stocked up on everything you like, justââ
He glanced over his shoulder as he spoke, and you made the mistake of looking up - of looking at him. That was what had made you keep your distance, before the following and the touching and the harassment.
No matter how brightly he was smiling, his eyes were always so, so cold.
"Stop touching me.â
Heads turned in your direction. Nobara whispered something to Maki. Yuujiâs hand vanished from your wrist, as if itâd never been there at all.
Fuck.
Youâd made a scene.
You shouldered past him, trudging into the house proper. Inside, disparate conversations melted into a constant pulse of voices and laughter and noise. You shouldered through bodies packed too tightly together, muttering apologies as drinks were spilled and balance was lost. Yuuji tried to follow, but the crowd was thick and you lost him quickly in the tangle. Hopefully, itâd stay that way until youâd done what you needed to.
It didnât take long for you to find your roommate. Yuuta was in the basement, sprawled out on a well-beaten couch, passing a joint around with a few of his anemic friends. The current holder - a younger guy with spiky black hair and a perpetual frown - offered it to you as you approached, but you shook your head. Any other time, maybe. Right now, there was only one thing you wanted.
âCâmon, Okkotsu.â You reached over the back of the couch, taking him by the shoulder. âWeâre leaving.â
His dark eyes were wide and unfocused. He had to blink a few times before his gaze shifted to you. When he spoke, his speech was on that same type of drawled delay. âAlready?â
Agitation sparked, but you stamped it out. He was high. Youâd been here for less than an hour. Some resistance was fair. âYeah, itâsââ His name got caught in your throat. You did your best to choke it down before going on. âItâs Itadori.â
Of all the people youâd considered confessing your Yuuji-centered issues to, youâd gotten with Yuuta. Youâd lived with him since freshman year. He was always so level-headed, so calm, so sympathetic. When someone spoke, he listened. Youâd always liked that about him. Youâd always trusted him to do the same for you.
Yuuta groaned, clenching his eyes shut and crossing his arms over his face. A knot formed in your chest. You repeated your mantra. Some resistance was fair. You had to believe that this was fair. âAgain?â
âI know itâs early, butââ
âItâs too early. And Itadoriâs not even thatââ He broke off, whining into his sleeves. âHave you tried talking to him?â
The knot tightened.
ââŚitâs not really like that. We donâtââ
âHeâs so nice.â With effort, Yuuta managed to sit up. âAnd sweet. And everybody knows he likes you. Couldnât you justâŚ?â
The insinuation was clear. You felt the knot grow tighter and tighter still before the cord snapped and something deep inside of you unraveled.
Your voice was flat, blank, confusion dulling anger into frigid apathy. âYou want me to shut up and fuck him so you can⌠What? Smoke in his friendâs basement for another twenty minutes?â
Yuuta grimaced. âThatâs not what I said.â
âItâs what you meant, though, right?â
âHeâs nice.â Sulkily, now. As if youâd done something wrong. âIt justâ It wouldnât be the worst thing in the world.â
Your expression hardened. His eyes widened, his mouth falling open as he scrambled to apologize, but it was too late. You were already climbing up the basement stairs. With or without him, you were getting out of here.
Someone had started playing music. You couldnât see any amps, but deep bass blared through the house, loud enough to shake the foundations. People were beginning to dance. Not that any of that mattered to you. You kept to the walls, skirting around the edges, doing what you could to fade into the background. You didnât want attention. You didnât want to make a scene. You just wanted toâ
Two arms, appearing out of nowhere, caging you in on either side. You froze, pressing your back against the drywall. Panic blurred your vision, but you wouldâve had to be blind not to recognize the man in front of you.
Yuuji, obviously.
It was always fucking Yuuji.
He had a drink in his hand. The usual frat part mixer - reddish, brownish, smelling vaguely of Kool-Aid and gasoline. And he was smiling. Of course, he was smiling. You werenât sure he was capable of doing anything else.
You did your best to be blunt, to keep your voice from shaking. âWhat do you want?â
He didnât say anything. Slowly, with the type of care you hadnât thought he was capable of, he held his drink in front of you. For an embarrassingly long second, you stared at it blankly, uncertain if you were supposed to take it or slap it out of his hand. Then, his smile widened, and in one unfaltering movement, he turned his cup over and dumped its contents down the front of your shirt.
The revulsion was hot and instantaneous. You cursed, grabbing at your shirt and pulling it away from your skin. You moved to dart away from Yuuji, but a muscular arm cut off your escape. It was all you could do to bare your teeth, glaring at him as you snarled, âWhat the fuââ
âYo, Itadori.â
You snapped to your left and found Yuuta, the spiky haired kid from the basement trailing after him. He paid Yuuji a nod and a smile before his eyes fell to you, his expression dimming.
You opened your mouth, but Yuuji was faster. âJust a party foul,â he explained, nodding to your ruined shirt. âMind if I borrow your room for the clean-up, Megumi?â
The spiky haired kid - Megumi - looked to you, his bleary eyes suddenly prying, evaluative. For a moment, he seemed to take you in, from the cheap booze dripping down your chest to the rigidity of your posture to the way you were pressed into the wall, clearly scared, clearly trying to keep your distance from a lurking threat. For a moment, you let yourself hope, even if you werenât entirely sure for what. Help, maybe. More realistically, bare-bones acknowledgement, some kind of unspoken sign that he recognized what was happening. That something was wrong and it wasnât your fault.
And then, the moment passed, and your amorphous hopes solidified into familiar disappointment as his gaze slid to Yuuji, softening in an instant. He nodded, and immediately, Yuujiâs fist was cuffed around your wrist, hauling you away. In your peripheral, you watched Yuuta raise a hand and start to say something, only to fall short. Megumiâs lips moved, the words lost underneath the music, gesturing in the direction of the drinksâ table. Yuujiâs grip tightened and you glanced toward him on instinct, finding only disheveled pink hair and the corners of his grin. By the time you looked back over your shoulder, they were gone.
Yuuji weaved seamlessly through the crowd. You were made to stumble up a too-thin staircase, then down a narrow hallway. The floor creaked under your weight as mold-infested carpeting tapered into ancient wooden boards, the music fading into a muted pulsing and the crowd thinning until you were alone save for the handful of lost, inebriated party-goers whoâd wandered farther than they were supposed to. Never pausing to explain himself, Yuuji shouldered open an unmarked door, shutting it again as soon as heâd pulled you across the threshold.
Distantly, you heard a lock click into place, but couldnât bring yourself to care. A little privacy didnât sound all that bad, at the moment.
The room was dark. The walls were a deep, depressing shade of charcoal gray and the sole window was swallowed by a thick, black curtain. The sole source of light came from a lamp on a surprisingly neat desk, its harsh white light almost jarring after wading through the technicolor haze downstairs. You collapsed onto the foot of the bed, burying your head in your hands and groaning into your palms. Even that moment of catharsis was cut short as the mattress dipped beside you, Yuuji settling into place.
âWe should get this off.â His hand curled around the hem of your shirt, tugging gently. âCanât be comfortable, like that.â
You crossed your arms over your chest. âWhy are you doing this?â
An airy laugh. Another tug - more insistent, this time. ââcause weâre friends, obviously.â
âDonât lie to me.â
âAlright.â
It was terrible, how calm his voice was, how little warning were given before his hands were on your shoulders, your back on the bed, his knees planted on either side of your waist. His weight settled onto your stomach - heavier than youâd expected. Of course. Yuuji was an athlete. In the haze of all his other positive accolades, you mustâve forgotten.
And he was staring at you, his eyes as cold as ice.
âDo you remember the day we met? Not the phone number shit. I really couldnât care less if someââ He gestured dismissively, then let his hands fall to your midriff. ââfucking loser doesnât want to talk to me. Afterward. When the lecture let out. Youâd forgotten something, so I called your name. Mustâve caught you off guard, because you turned around and looked at me likeâŚâ
He trailed off, laughing.
âLike I was gonna kill you.â
Again, he caught the hem of your shirt, tugging gently. The air hitched in your throat. ââŚare you going to?â
The corners of his mouth pulled back, baring fangs. He shook his head. Somehow, no relief accompanied the reassurance.
âI really do like you.â In one motion, he tore your shirt up and over your head. Resistance wasnât an option. Fabric tore, and suddenly, you were exposed and unprotected beneath him. Calloused fingertips dragged over your bare skin. He pulled off his own, then let his head dip low, his mouth skirting over the curve of your chest. âTook me a while to realize that. You kept running away, but I never stopped wanting to chase you.â He paused, chuckled. âIâm sorry. That makes me sound like Iâm just in it forâ for this, I guess. Iâm not. I like the way you react to things. Whether youâre pretending not to see me or doing that deer in headlights thing orââ
He broke off suddenly, his lips latching onto your nipple. You cried out involuntarily as his teeth dug into your areola hard enough to break the skin. His tongue lapped hastily over the puncture wounds before he pulled away, grinning from ear to ear. âOr that.â
Hot, humiliating tears were beginning to fog your vision. You could see the door over his shoulder - salvation in the form of a hazy black outline. His hand drifted lower, finding the button of your jeans. Half on purpose, half on reflex, you thrashed. Your nails caught his cheek, something tearing where you made contact. You managed to free one of your legs, to get enough distance between you and him to pitch your heel into his chest. Yuuji jerked back, letting you squirm free. You rolled onto your hands and knees, scrambling for the edge of the mattress. You just had to get your feet underneath you. You just had to get out of this room. You just had toâ
You made it all of a few, pitiful inches before a strong arm curled around your waist, a heavy body draping itself over yours. Anchoring you.
Trapping you.
Yuuji laughed, burying his head in the crook of your neck, pressing an open-mouthed kiss into the side of your throat. You didnât realize that heâd been trying to be gentle until he shoved your jeans down to your knees and palmed at your cunt with all the delicacy of a hacksaw, already in motion. A thumb slid into the waistband of your underwear, the flimsy article torn off with the same haphazard efficiency. You tried to scream, but Yuujiâs mouth was already on yours, swallowing any noise you mightâve been able to get out. At the same time, he forced two fingers into your cunt, the heel of his palm rolling against your clit. A humiliatingly wet noise echoed off the walls of the bedroom - slick and mortifying. Yuuji let out a low whistle, spreading his fingers apart inside of you.
âAnd I thought you hated me.â His breath was hot and smothering against your skin. You shook your head violently, and he laughed. âItâs okay. I love you, too.â
You tried not to react, not to give him what he wanted. You couldnât get away, and so denial was the next best option â letting your mind go blank and dissociating until he lost interest, playing dead until the predator got bored and wandered off in search of more interesting prey. But Yuuji had always made himself difficult to ignore. He held you tight against his chest, pumping his fingers into you with all the delicacy and all the curiosity of a mechanical piston, carrying out its only programmed function. Your cunt clenched and he forced in yet another digit, threatening to split you open. A pained groan slipped through your sealed lips. You were wet, but you didnât want this. It was a fear reaction, not the pleasure heâd been so happy to mistake it for. It was going to take more than his invasive touch, his stifling closeness to make up for that.
âŚand yet, you couldnât seem to swallow back the little, pitchy whines tangling together on your tongue, couldnât seem to stop your legs from twitching underneath you. You bowed your head low, but Yuuji followed you, keeping his chest against your back and his hand lodged in-between your thighs, not allowing for any amount of distance. He was so, so close. You could feel his heart beating against your spine. You could hear him panting in your ear, too reminiscent of some giant, lumbering beast. You could see his face in your peripheral, his gaze locked on your expression. His eyes were cold enough to burn.
You came with a single, miserable moan. Yuujiâs pace slowed as you came down from your unwanted high, eventually stilling inside of you. You hoped beyond hope that heâd stay like that, that youâd get a chance to at least start to recover, but the world wasnât that kind and Yuuji wasnât that patient. Drawing back, his hands found your hips and turned you over â all but throwing you down to the mattress. You heard fabric shift, metal clink. It was all you could do not to look. You wouldâve given anything to never have to put an image to that sound.
If only you had anything left to give.
âSorry we couldnât do this somewhere moreâ more special.â He fit his body between your legs. You felt something blunt and searing press against your entrance. âNext time. I promise, Iâll make it more romantic, next time.â
You opened your mouth, but it was too late. He was already thrusting into you. In a single motion, you were split open on his cock, left bare and exposed and at his mercy. Yuuji groaned, falling against you. His lips found yours, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, lapping into you. You were minded uncannily of the way wolves licked each othersâ mouths, all instinct without the care.
He was smiling, when he pulled back. For the time, you thought it mightâve reached his eyes.
synopsis: you've spent years being bullied by the pretty, white-haired princess the rest of your boarding school adores. who would have thought that whole time she was secretly crushing on you? or catfishing you?
pairing: yandere fem!gojo x loser!reader
wc: 7.1k
content: mdni, angst and smut mostly, DUBCON, fem!gojo referred to as toru, basically k-drama style bullying lmfao, catfishing, fem!toru roping suguru into her schemes to catfish reader, sending risque photos and videos, pining, obsession, stalking, isolation, fem!toru is down so bad it's FILTHY, betrayal, emotional hurt, reader lowk about to have a mental breakdown, fem!toru is delusional and in love, confessions, sorta blackmail, conflicting feelings, hotel room hookup, kissing, groping, fingering, degradation, fem!toru is GETTING her wife girlfriend
a/n: art by @/rezijellyfish !! this was a commission for my sweet angel @sadlittlecucumber !!
âAre you staring at my tits?âÂ
You werenât. Seriously. But when she was dramatically huffing and bouncing like that, your stare did flicker down for a fraction of a second and that was enough to secure a haughty scoff from your tormenter.Â
âGod, do you ever stop checking me out?â Toru haughtily huffed at you, the edge of a freshly manicured nail scraping against your chin as she forced your head up. Careful not to let her fingers actually touch you, as if you had some disgusting disease she could touch if your skin brushed against yours. âMy eyes are up here.âÂ
Painfully blue. So intense they seemed to sear through you, shrink you down into something small enough for her to pick up and play with like a toy she enjoyed torturing.Â
Staring at you like you were something to devour.Â
From the very first day you started at this stupid all-girls school and had the misfortune of accidentally dropping one of your bags on her foot in the hallway while you moved into your dorm, she had decided you were the object of her animosity.Â
And despite how much time had passed, how many times you tried to clear the air and stay as fucking far as possible from her, she always seemed to find and remind you of just how much power she had here. Over you. Â
âIâm just trying to go back to my dorm,â you muttered, averting your stare as you stepped back, attempting to walk around her â and through the forming crowd of gossiping onlookers eager for some fresh rumor to sink their teeth into.Â
Toru would be happy to give it to them.Â
Tossing her soft, white hair over her shoulder, loose waves bouncing as she haughtily laughed and looked back at all the people surrounding the two of you. Any one of them ready and willing to support her when you were standing there practically as proof of what happened when you pissed her off.Â
âWhat? Sneak any shots up my skirt today to add to your perverted shrine?â She accused, your face flushing at the absurd insinuation.Â
Despite her frequent assertions otherwise, you were neither a lesbian nor hopelessly in love with her.Â
Her ego was just so huge, it was probably just inconceivable to her that someone could exist without wanting her.Â
But no matter how many times you swore you werenât secretly obsessed with her and that there was no fucking shrine hidden in your closet or under your bed, sheâd been saying the same shit long enough that no one believed you.Â
âCan you just leave me alone?â You frowned, forcing your way through the crowd to get past her as she called out some other teasing remark about you going to rub one out.Â
Loathing couldnât quite suffice for just how much you couldnât stand her.
Hate boiling and burning beneath your skin every time she hurled a new taunt your way, when sheâd find you eating lunch in a single bathroom stall just to make your meals hell too, mocking you with glossy lips and a glittering smile while the rest of your class treated her like an angel even when her antics annoyed them.Â
And when the girl that could do no wrong wished the worst for you, well, it seemed the worst was all you got.Â
The rest of the student body had started treating you like shit too. Sneering and scolding you for staring, everyone convinced you had to be some sort of predator just because she said you liked girls.Â
People didnât grin at you in the hallways.Â
Just glared.Â
Your room had been ransacked a few times, clothes tattered and wrecked with staff that didnât care to scold them. Your lunches knocked out of your hand. Stupid notes stuck to your back during class.Â
There wasnât a single person in this fucking place that wanted to be your friend.Â
But you guessed it didnât matter.Â
You didnât have that much longer left stuck here.Â
Graduation was coming up soon â and despite the hell boarding school had been, the scholarship youâd been granted to attend had set you up for a pretty nice looking future. One without Toru.Â
You locked the door to your room behind you, dropping your bag to the ground before collapsing onto your bed. Exhaling as your eyes shut, a migraine budding behind them from spending another day attempting to avoid her and failing miserably.Â
Rolling over to pluck your phone from your pocket, your mouth reflexively curled up into a smile at the name on the screen. The one bright light in the midst of this pit of misery filled with pretty girls who thought you were pining after them and tried to punish you for it.Â
All of them absolutely clueless that you were already taken.Â
By a man they would definitely be desperate to call theirs too.Â
Youâd been seeing Satoshi for two years.Â
Sorta.Â
You hadnât officially met him yet. Not when you started talking through a dating app. Back then, youâd been craving any company so much you had caved and downloaded a bunch. And you had lucked out to land an equally lonely person.Â
Your relationship had been fairly casual at first, late night conversations where you stayed up until your eyes were sore and you nearly fell asleep sitting up in half your classes. Things had picked up this past year, the photos that used to be half your face or whatever you were doing escalating to moreâŚintimate images. His questions turned more personal too, picking apart your brain until he knew probably more about you than anyone youâd ever met before.Â
Sure, it wasnât conventional. But he had sent plenty of his own questionable pictures and voice messages to quell any of your suspicions. He never asked for money either, instead showering you with attention and sending you expensive gifts (although everyone on your floor was convinced you were spending what little money you had sending them to yourself). He was wearing a uniform from an all-boys boarding school not all that far away in a lot of them â but between sports and classes and busy schedules, neither of you had been able to arrange a proper meet up.Â
Until this weekend.Â
Finally, youâd be able to do something other than giggle and grin at the photos of his pretty washboard abs and replay his thick, groggy good morning messages.Â
He made reservations at a fancy hotel nearby, promising that heâd be waiting for you there with the biggest bouquet he could buy and wearing his best outfit in blue, sending you sweet messages about how badly he was aching to be yours in person instead of just online.Â
Most people would think you made him up.Â
And honestly, at first, when you tried to dispel the rumors and whispers about you being a lesbian by protesting and bringing up that you literally had a boyfriend, but when he actually went to another school, no one would believe you.Â
Eventually, you gave up. Stopped seeing a point in swearing the truth when everyone else would always prefer the lie.Â
It gave them someone lower on the totem pole to push around.Â
Kept them safe from Toruâs reign of terror.Â
Why would they listen?Â
You told yourself that you were almost free. So fucking close to being out of her reach.Â
They could all worship at her feet and follow her around like the lost puppies they were. You werenât going to be a loser lingering in her shadow forever. Not when you still had your support in Satoshi.Â
A new notification buzzed on your phone, breath catching in your throat in anticipation as you clicked on it too fast, before you could even read it.Â
You shouldâve looked.Â
An unknown number and a nasty word stared back at you, your fingers automatically moving to block the number and delete it with a frown.Â
Immediately re-opening your messages with Satoshi as you sniffled a little, too exhausted to keep the swirling emotions inside you at bay as you sent a short message, biting your lip until you tasted the blood on your tongue.Â
Can you talk right now?
ÎľâżĐˇ
âPlease, please, please, please-âÂ
âGod, do you ever shut up?â Suguru groaned, rubbing his temple while Toru thrusted the phone in his face.Â
âBut I need your help,â she whined, pouting harder as he squinted at the messages.Â
âYou said youâd tell your girlfriend last month,â he annoyingly reminded her, brows knitting together in irritation as he reluctantly took the phone anyway, readjusting on his bed after she unceremoniously burst into his room after getting a ride all the way to their rival boarding school. âDonât particularly feel like doing this for two more years.âÂ
God, what good was a best friend if they wouldnât help in a time of need? Wasnât he supposed to be a wingman?
âIâm telling her this weekend,â Toru frowned back, folding her arms across her chest as she glanced around his dorm room. It was honestly cleaner than hers, in shades of gray and green instead of the soft blue she was used to. Books actually neatly stacked on his desk instead of scattered haphazardly on every surface. âI wanna make it romantic. Like, book a hotel room and everything.â Â
Buy you flowers, maybe an expensive set of lingerie, have them scatter rose petals over the bed and leave champagne on the table. Book a couples massage and take you out to a fancy dinner? Sure, sheâd probably have to apologize for being a bit of a bitch to you over the years, but once you saw how serious she was about being in a relationship with you, couldnât you just let bygones by bygones?Â
Suguru arched one of those thin eyebrows, giving her one of those irksome looks that implied he didnât think it was a good idea.Â
But he was a man.Â
What did they know?Â
âYou think sheâs going to take it well?â He tentatively asked, and she couldnât help scoff.Â
âShe likes Satoshi. Satoshi is me,â she simply said, gesturing with her hands as if it should be obvious. âBesides, shouldnât she be grateful for my attention? Anyone would be.â
Suguru laughed, like it was a joke.Â
But she just scowled back at him, completely serious as she tried to get what he didnât get about the whole thing.Â
Whoever got to be with her was the lucky one.Â
Toru was beyond beautiful. Wealthy. Wore the best clothes and went to all the best vacation spots every year. Who wouldnât want to be hers?Â
It was just common sense.Â
Sheâd been worshipped from the day she was born. It wasnât like she was expecting you to do the same. She just wanted you to see how fortunate you were to have her favor.Â
God, any girl would die to be in your shoes. Guys too, actually, beg for her attention and crawl on their knees for the tiniest slice of the attention she gave you.Â
Sure, maybe she wasnât always good at getting it across verbally, but she couldnât risk someone else sneaking in and stealing your attention! Besides, her mouth seemed to always speak for itself around you, never saying exactly what she intended to when all her brain could think of was the shape of your lips and how your uniform clung to your tits since sheâd bribed the office to keep sending you the size down.Â
She could admit that she could be a little aggressive, but she just wanted you to finally fucking admit that you wanted her too. Not just play hard to get and avoid her all the damn time.
âSheâs probably just going to complain about you,â Suguru warned her, jealousy flaring up in her chest as she ran her fingers through her hair.Â
What the hell did he know?Â
At least you were talking about her.Â
Toru would rather your thoughts revolve around her than to be nothing to you at all.Â
âShe was definitely checking out my tits today,â she defensively argued, even though Suguru was still making an annoying face at her. So what if he didnât believe her?Â
You had, hadnât you? This wasnât just totally in her head?Â
Maybe you didnât even realize youâd done it. Toru had been trying her hardest to get you to see that you were obviously a lesbian like her, that the two of you were clearly compatible.
âUh-huh,â he mumbled, and she wanted to yank the pillow out from underneath his head and smother him with it.Â
âAre you going to call her or not?â She pouted, returning to the point as he slowly scrolled through the messages.
She imagined you back in your own bed, maybe biting your pretty lips until they were swollen, breaking the skin as you waited for a response. Would you let Toru lick the blood off if you knew it was her on the other end?Â
âFor fifty bucks,â he exhaled, and she once again contemplated suffocating him.Â
But she was still shrugging down her purse, digging through its messy contents to pull out a hundred and toss it at him.Â
âYouâre such a dick,â she derisively huffed, even though she had started this whole arrangement by promising to pay him a couple years ago. Begging him to let her use his photos to catfish you, and despite his initial moral protests that it was wrong, blah blah blah, he eventually caved in.Â
It wasnât ever supposed to last this long.Â
She meant to tell you months ago. But there were always pesky little flies buzzing around every time she tried to talk to you at school, and she couldnât get the correct words to leave her lips when everyone was always watching the two of you together.Â
God, even when she tried to talk to you in the bathroom when you ate your lunch in there alone, people still fucking followed her.Â
âYou better pull your pants down a little and snap a pic if Iâm paying you,â she hissed at her only actual friend, just for Suguru to roll his eyes at her again from his lazy position on the bed.Â
God, did she have to do everything herself?
She climbed on top, grabbing his slacks by the hips and wiggling it down as low as she could without revealing his disgusting dick. She didn't really understand what you could possibly find appealing about the obviously inferior gender, but maybe it was just because you didn't know better yet. Hadn't seen what her pretty tits looked like without her uniform covering them or properly experienced a womanâs touch.Â
âAre you serious-âÂ
Toru ignored Suguru, tugging his shirt up too and snagging the phone back, carefully angling it to snap a photo that captured his dark happy trail, the defined muscles and ridges of his abs and hitting send.Â
It was almost instantly marked as seen.Â
She stared at the screen, willing your response, wishing for something in return and grinning wildly when you sent an image back.Â
Your uniform removed to reveal your gorgeous tits pressed together in a pretty white bra. Had you picked it out for her? Or well, Satoshi? Your face wasnât in it, but she could imagine what expression you were making. How your lashes might flutter, how your bottom lip might push out.Â
Were you touching yourself?Â
âDo you still want me to call her or do you wanna go rub one out?â Suguru sarcastically asked, his voice thick with sleep from the nap she ârudelyâ interrupted.Â
âAsk her to send a video of her doing that,â she demanded, holding the phone back out while he let out a low exhale, shutting his eyes like he hadnât meant to sign up for that.
âDo I at least get to watch the video if she sends it?â He grumbled, and Toru glared back at him, folding her arms across her chest as she gritted her teeth.Â
âFine,â she begrudgingly accepted.Â
It was only natural, she supposed. She spent almost every day bragging to him about how gorgeous you were, rambling about all the cute faces you made and funny things youâd said. Of course, heâd want to experience the little pieces of you Toru was generous enough to share.Â
He took the phone, hitting the call button as Toru gestured for him to put in on speaker while it rang. He did, and you only took a second to answer.Â
âHi,â your soft voice breathed on the other end, and a jolt of excitement shot through Toru.Â
You sounded so adorable. She just wanted to take a bite. Sink her teeth into you so deep youâd be stuck with the bite marks for the rest of your life.Â
âHey, pretty girl,â Suguru greeted, keeping a straight face while Toru suppressed actually giggling at the light sound of your pretty laughter through the phone.Â
âWhat are you doing?â You asked, all sweet and sincere.Â
âJust thinkinâ about you,â Suguru smoothly replied. Toru couldnât help rolling her eyes at him, having a hard time believing any girl could actually be stupid enough to-
âReally?âÂ
Nevermind.Â
This was exactly why you needed Toru. Sure, Suguru was her best friend, but moronic men like him would never be able to take care of you like she could!Â
âI liked that photo you sent me,â he murmured into the phone, pitching his voice down while Toruâs nails bit into her palm, imprinting half-circles into them as she heard your breathing hitch on the other end.Â
âY-yeah?â You stuttered a little bit, as precious as always. A little awkward, too, but that was part of what made you so addicting. What made Toru so desperate to be the one you were stammering and stumbling over your words for. âI liked yours.âÂ
âYou wanna show me just how much?â Suguru spoke slowly, leaving the implication up in the air for you to jump to your own conclusion.Â
To decide just how badly you wanted to please Satoshi.Â
âYou want another photo?â You asked after a moment, temptation teetering there. Toru was dying to touch you. Be there in your bed as she heard your sheets rustling underneath your body through the grainy line. Replaying all the pretty expressions youâd worn in the hall earlier, imagining how different the one you had on now was.Â
âI want more, angel,â Suguru replied, immediately reminding Toru that you still didnât know you were hers yet, still enveloped in this boy version of her that she and Suguru fabricated. âAre you touching yourself for me?âÂ
âMaybe,â you shyly said, close enough to a confession.Â
âThink you could record it for me, sweetheart?â He hummed, careful not to sound demanding, just issuing a little dare she knew you would take out of fear of disappointing him.
âIf you really want me to,â you hesitantly replied, all light and airy. Barely needing to be nudged to agree to send a video of your breathy moans, one where your fingers would slip underneath your matching panties as you cried out after someone that never really existed.Â
âGood girl.âÂ
You didnât even ask him not to show anyone else.Â
Just blindly trusted him.Â
Would you still feel the same when you knew it was really her? Follow her lead and stay on her leash?Â
Sometimes, you sorta reminded Toru of a lost little lamb. One she had to shepherd back into place. It wasnât like she was trying to put the crook around your neck, to pull you close, but sheâd do what she had to just to have you.Â
ÎľâżĐˇ
Be there in five. Canât wait for you to finally be mine. Â
âCan I help you, miss?â A hotel employee startled you, blinking hard a few times in surprise as you swallowed hard and shook your head.
âIâm, um, just waiting on someone,â you answered with a tight smile, grateful when they seemed to accept that answer, nodding politely and walking away as you rested against the wall rather than taking a seat on one of the stiff couches clustered together by coffee tables nearby.Â
You were too anxious to sit.Â
Nerves racing under your skin as you continuously checked the time, smoothing out the skirt you picked out and glancing down at the revealing shirt youâd chosen after he made a comment about how much he was looking forward to burying his face against your breasts.Â
But as minute five came and passed, you still hadnât spotted a single sign of him.Â
You felt like an idiot, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you kept scanning the lobby for a glimpse of blue like he promised. Pulling up your phone to read and reread his latest message for comfort.Â
Fingers tapping the keyboard, typing out a message to ask if he was close only to delete it and try to reword it, wasting another few minutes struggling to come up with something not totally desperate to say only to come up empty.Â
A familiar giggle made your blood run cold.Â
In a single instant, your mood was spoiled, rotten, head snapping in trepidation as you saw the blue you were searching for at the receptionistâs desk. Just on the wrong person.Â
A tight blue dress clinging to the hips of your least favorite person, pushing her boobs up and riding high on her thighs as she turned towards you, eyes locking onto yours like she already knew youâd be here.Â
The receptionist passed her two keycards, and she had to readjust the huge bouquet of flowers in her hand to grab it before she started walking towards you, her tall heels clicking against the tiled lobby.Â
âDonât you look adorable?â She smiled at you. Smiled. You were pretty sure your brain short-circuited. Overwhelmed by the fact a compliment had left her lips with not a hint of cruelty. Perhaps a sliver of condescension, but unless your stare was suddenly deceiving you (and you so badly wished it was) she actually appeared genuine.Â
âW-what are you-â You started stammering, heat rushing up to your face as she stepped even closer, looking down at you with amusement glittering in her pretty eyes as she pushed the flowers into your arms.
âI'm Satoshi, silly,â she hummed, her mouth curling up in a smirk that just screamed she was proud of her scheme.Â
âNo, no,â you bluntly said, struggling to breathe when her words threatened to unravel years of a relationship youâd been clinging to, counting on to keep your sanity intact. âHe called me. Sent me voice messages, photos-âÂ
âI had to get my friend Suguru to help,â she admitted, fake sympathy in her practiced smile as she reached out and touched your cheek. Caressed it with her soft fingers while you stood there in too much shock to recoil. âBut all the conversations were me, sweetheart.âÂ
Sweetheart.Â
The word had never made you feel so fucking sick before.Â
Satoshi had called you that all the time. But he was apparently her, and the realization that all your raw vulnerabilities, all the times you poured your heart and soul out just for Toru to be on the receiving end. All those reassurances youâd hung onto, the pretty words you copied down into diaries and woven into your brain, they all belonged to her.Â
Betrayal burning through you as you tried to process the depth of their deception. How many layers to it were there? How much time had she spent just to keep up this charade? Pretending to be a fucking man to what? Â
Humiliate you even more than she did on a daily basis?Â
âAm I just a sick joke to you?â You asked, voice thick with hurt you couldn't hide anymore. She tormented you for years. What the hell else were you supposed to think?Â
âYou're my girlfriend?â She retorted, tilting her head to the side as if she couldn't understand what you were confused about.Â
âYou hate me,â you pointed out, mentally replaying every mean word out of her mouth from the day you met. All the times she accused you of wanting to have sex with her and basically being a lovesick loser.Â
âI like you,â she corrected you, and you got the distinct impression this wasn't exactly the reaction she'd been expecting from you.Â
And in the next thick pause, the silence where you stared at her with an open mouth, you realized that perhaps she'd been projecting.Â
That maybe the obsessed one had been her all along.Â
You stepped back, shaking your head as you heard yourself scoff.Â
âDo you just want me to say sorry?â Toru asked, her glittery lip gloss catching the light as she dramatically pouted. âI am, you know, I just get so excited when I see you, itâs hard to hold it in.âÂ
You blinked.Â
Her eyes shifted down to your chest, openly ogling you as pink bloomed against her pretty cheeks, her fingers slipping back into your hair like you were a couple.Â
As if, in any universe, this could be considered normal.Â
You wanted to scream.Â
To storm off and slam the glass door behind you.Â
Go back to your room and cry into the pillow after you scrubbed every stupid photo and video you ever saved of Satoshi from your phone.Â
This wasnât supposed to happen. You were supposed to graduate and get as far from Toru as possible, find a place with your boyfriend and start a new life where you could forget about the past few years youâd spent here.Â
âWhat did I do to ever deserve you doing this to me?â You breathed, a hot lump forming in your throat as you tried to hold back the sob that wanted to break out. Hyper aware of how hard you tried on your makeup this morning, how much time youâd spent picking out what to wear and how to style your hair, desperate to impress someone who apparently didnât even exist.Â
The tears were welling up anyway, heavy in your lashes and collecting in the corners of your eyes as you felt the stares of people passing by. The whispering youâd gotten used to whenever you were around Toru.Â
Her face scrunched up, her annoyingly pretty mouth parting as she moved her hand to drag her thumb underneath your eyes. Wiping away your tears while she tilted her head to the side, loose waves bouncing in time with her huff, âAre you seriously crying?âÂ
âYou catfished me,â you said, hating how crushed you sounded. But you were. In a handful of seconds, she had decimated any ounce of your confidence you had left. Reduced you to rubble under her stupid red-bottomed heels and then rubbed it into the glossy tiles you were standing on. âYouâve been calling me a lesbian for years, but you-âÂ
âThatâs because you are one,â she said, perfectly plucked brows knitting together tightly as she took a small step closer. Almost enough for both your chests to touch, her eyes drifting back down for what felt like the twentieth time at your shirt. âI mean, I am too, was it not obvious?âÂ
No, it absolutely wasnât fucking obvious, but the way she said it was enough to make you freeze.Â
Honestly, if anything, you thought she was a little homophobic before this, but you didnât know how sheâd take that.Â
âCome on, you can just admit that you were crushing on me, you donât have to keep-â You made some sound at her insane statement, pure disgust mixing with the scoff that escaped.Â
âI hate you,â you half-whispered. Loathing burning in those three short words as you tried to find the strength to move. But she didnât flinch. Just pursed her lips together as she batted her soft, white lashes at you.Â
âYou told Satoshi you loved him last night,â she so unhelpfully reminded you, speaking slowly as if she was giving you time to think between her words. âThat means you love me.âÂ
âI-âÂ
You couldnât even get out what you wanted to say when she started twirling a loose strand of your hair around one of her long fingers.Â
Was she actually trying to seduce you?Â
Her chest pressed against yours, not sparing so much as a glance to anyone else in the lobby despite how much attention she had to know she was drawing as you felt her tits through her thin dress rubbing against yours like you were playing the starring role in a cheap porno.Â
âThink about all those late nights we stayed up together,â she purred, looking down at you the same way she always did, and you wondered how you ever could have missed the hunger in them before.Â
Well, that wasnât quite true. Youâd seen it.Â
You just hadnât realized what she was starving for.Â
âAll those times we talked about our families and our lives and what we wanted to do with them. All the stuff we wanted to do together,â Toru hummed, her nose nearly brushing against yours now too. You were struggling to wrap your head around the idea of her being the one you spilled everything too. Fuck, how many times had you complained to her about her?Â
âI didnât know-â You started, but she made a soft shushing sound that somehow shut you up.Â
âWe can still do all of it,â she promised, like you had any interest in any of it now that you knew what a fool youâd been for putting your trust in someone you never actually knew. In her. âMe and you.âÂ
You got the impression in your already flustered brain that she was trying to be romantic.Â
That this was all supposed to be some grand gesture to show you that her feelings were genuine.Â
But it just felt like fresh embarrassment.Â
Your heart slamming against your rib cage while your thoughts ran in the same panicked circles, falling apart in front of a room full of strangers.
It sort of felt like you were being proposed to in public. Forced to say yes to not seem like a total asshole when everyone else was probably convinced she was earnestly confessing to you.Â
And after years of being around her, you already had the experience to know the universe would always side with her.Â
âWhat do you expect me to say?â You finally spoke, flat-out dumbfounded as your voice trembled. Her treachery was already twisting into something else in your stomach, your body attempting to turn it into something flattering just so you could cope with it. The intoxicating scent of her perfume stuffing your nostrils and clouding your thinking as you struggled to sort out all the different emotions rattling around inside you.Â
The hurt and the heartache and the conflicting feelings of loss and longing for someone that wasnât there. The scariest part was that some sliver of you was starting to consider Toru.Â
Starting to want her.Â
Acknowledging that you couldnât actually have Satoshi, and coming to the conclusion that she was the closest fucking thing you had.Â
The thought itself was incredibly depressing.Â
âI love you, Toru?â She offered, doing her own impression of your voice.Â
âI donât,â you argued, although you werenât sure how convincing it actually came out when her proximity left your voice quivering.Â
âWhat? You only loved me as a boy then?â She grinded her sharp canines, not quite glaring, but clearly unhappy as her blue eyes bored into yours.Â
âHow was I supposed to know my boyfriend was you?âÂ
Other than the fact he was obviously too good to be true. A guy like that would never be interested in you. No, the only person who was, apparently, was your insane classmate whoâd been pretending to be a man for two years just to get you to fall for her. Â
You almost wished this was simply blackmail. That she just wanted to hold your humiliation over your head.
This felt so much worse. So much ickier.Â
Especially when your body was beginning to betray your mind just with her touch, her scent, warping what your senses with her cruel fingers and soft skin.Â
âA girlfriend is way better than a boyfriend,â she huffed at you, rolling her eyes like you should already know that.Â
âYou want to be my girlfriend?â You asked, meant to be rhetorical rather than serious. But her eyes lit up, lips lifting up into a blinding smile as she nodded.Â
âDuh.âÂ
No. No. No.Â
This could not be-
âLetâs go check out our room,â she hummed, effortlessly changing the subject as she backed off only to grab your wrist. Throwing an annoyed look over her shoulder at all the passerbys who had not-so-subtly paused to watch whatever was happening between both of you. âSo annoying how people are always obsessed with me.âÂ
Too blind to see how much of a hypocrite she was being.
You were too stunned to stop her. Feet uselessly following after her as her pale fingertips dug deeper into your skin, dragging you around like you were just an accessory on her arm.Â
Feeling almost like you were floating along, trying to tell yourself that this was all just some fucked-up dream youâd wake up from before you got there.Â
But you didnât.Â
Just standing there like an idiot when she was holding the keycard up to the door, glancing down to realize you were still holding the flowers in your other limp hand.Â
The saddest part was you were pretty sure no one else would give you anything as remotely nice as these.Â
âI wasnât trying to ask you to be-â You tried one more time, but she was already opening the door and pulling you in.Â
âYou know, youâre kinda being ungrateful,â she huffed, shutting the door with a heavy thud as she dropped her designer purse on the floor. You didnât even think she knew how much it cost. Probably just purchased it without considering how many meals that much money couldâve bought someone else.Â
âIâm ungrateful?â You echoed, hurt coiling hot in your core as you stared in disbelief at her in front of you. You wanted it to be hurt, at least, forcing yourself to look away only to find rose petals all over the floor.Â
She reached around to start pulling down the zipper of her dress, stepping out of her heels without pausing before shimmying her clothes off.Â
Shit.Â
She wasnât wearing a fucking shred underneath.Â
You werenât a lesbian. At least, you were pretty sure you werenât a lesbian. But something was fluttering inside you against your will at the subtle bounce of her breasts when she bent over to pick up a rose petal and pinch it between her fingers, pouting like she was disappointed by the color of them.Â
âI mean, you have me in front of you, and youâre not even appreciating it,â she complained.Â
âIf youâre expecting me to beg for you-â you started, awkwardly turning to place the flowers on the closest table, but that only gave her the opportunity to move closer. To bridge the gap between you.Â
âIâm not,â she argued back, but the mischievous little grin on her face was enough to cast doubt. âBut you will anyway.âÂ
Your mouth fell open, and it felt like she had your heart in her fist, squeezing it to watch the blood slowly drip out.Â
âIâve seen how pretty you look begging,â she murmured, and that heat simmering inside you just creeped higher, flooding your face as you realized what she meant. Remembered all those videos youâd sent her thinking Satoshi was seeing them. âWanna hear it for myself.âÂ
And before you could even deal with the notion that Toru had a plethora of videos of you masturbating stashed away, that she probably had fingered herself to you, she was kissing you.Â
She tasted like candy.Â
Sugary sweet gloss melting onto your lips as her mouth messily collided with yours. You froze for a few moments, but your lips started to kiss her back. Parting to let her tongue slip in as you were torn between telling her to stop and letting this continue.Â
What could you do?Â
What should you do?Â
If she sent those videos to anyone, your life would be fucking ruined. But you didnât want to just be Toruâs pet, something she doted on in secret and embarrassed in public.Â
And at the same time, your body was reacting to hers almost instinctively, leaning forward instead of pulling away, despite your arms falling to your side, unsure if you could even touch her back.Â
Toru, on the other hand, was grabbing a handful of your ass â and one of your tits too. Groping and squeezing while her tongue explored your mouth like she owned it all.Â
Maybe if you gave into her now, if you let her have this, have you this once, you could still just leave anyway after graduation. Change your number when you changed cities, fuck, maybe changed countries if it meant getting away from the war she was waging between your head and heart.Â
âYouâre such a bitch,â you breathed when she broke the kiss, knowing that if she kissed you again, you werenât going to stop her either.Â
She laughed. At that, or maybe just at you.Â
And then she was grabbing your hips, twisting you around and guiding you back to the bed, pushing you down on it hard enough to knock the air from your chest.Â
âDonât be a brat,â she pouted, pushing her glossy lips out as she easily rolled up your little skirt around your hips. Grinning at the sight of your lacy little panties, the pure white shade that came a little too close to her hair that she quickly pulled down around your thighs next.
âIâm not a-âÂ
Your words died in your throat as she slipped a delicate finger inside your warmth before you could protest what exactly you were. No better than a bitch in heat when just an experimental circle had a broken gasp escaping your mouth.Â
She smiled at you again, pride and amusement shining like stars in her blue stare. You supposed sheâd just found a new way to play with her favorite toy.Â
âYouâre so cute,â she complimented, climbing on top of you, her knee nudging your thighs further apart as her other hand trailed underneath your shirt.Â
You swallowed hard. You knew you should say something else.Â
Tell her to fuck off.Â
But nothing came out.Â
All the words dried up as she dragged her finger even deeper inside you.Â
And then added another digit. Slowly getting to work stretching you open, feeling the way your walls started to squeeze down reflexively as she held your stare hostage.Â
âYou wanna tell me just how much you donât like me?â She condescendingly hummed, daring you to disagree with her.Â
âDo you hate me?â You asked instead, still struggling to wrap your head around the fact this was happening, no longer confident in something you had been certain of an hour ago. That somehow, you were proving her right. That just by being underneath her like this, with the taste of her candied lip gloss on your mouth and her fingers stuffing you full, you had become exactly what she said you were.Â
A loser in love with her.Â
You tried to tell yourself again that you werenât.Â
âIâm literally, like, in love with you,â she pouted, a hint of a familiar whine in it like she was sick of saying the same thing in different ways. âWhat do I have to do to make you see that, hm, pretty?âÂ
Probably erase the past few years from your memory, but you had a feeling she might engineer something like a car accident if it had the chance to cause retrograde amnesia â and force you to let her take care of you.Â
And then her thumb drifted over your clit, and you forgot what you were thinking anyway with the soft pressure she applied.Â
âDoesnât it feel good?â She hummed, begging to rub careful circles over it, your body tensing as your chest tightened at the sensation. Your overheating core threatened to send shivers down your spine as her fingertips prodded deeper, faster.Â
âT-Toru-â You didnât know what you were even trying to say, brows knitting together as sweat started to drip down your forehead, everything inside you quickly grew all fuzzy.Â
âYou know, no one else could make you feel this good, sweetheart,â she said, teasing you as her thumb pressed that sensitive bud between your thighs like it was a goddamn button.Â
Activating an embarrassingly primal part of your brain as you felt the pleasure build closer towards a climax you couldnât believe you might be having.Â
âNo one else will ever know you like I do,â Toru continued, and you loathed that she might be correct. You told her everything. Every thought. Every secret. Every dream. You didnât think youâd ever be able to trust anyone else like that again. âLove you like I do.âÂ
You wanted to hate this as much as you hated her.Â
But her fingers were longer than yours, hitting spots you couldn't on your own as she slipped a third one in, swirling it around to tease you with that pretty, lilting laugh of hers.Â
âLook at you,â she cooed, still mocking you even when you were in her hotel bed. âSoaked on my fingers like a slut.âÂ
You were.
Shaking and squirming as her fingers pumped in and out of you, whimpering weakly as she played you like a goddamn instrument. You knew you were going to cum.Â
Knew that sheâd won.Â
Toru had made a mess of you. Unravelled you into a million little pieces that probably would never be put back together again.Â
âThatâs it, my pretty little lamb,â she cooed, and you wished your head was a little clearer to understand what she giggled about next. Your thighs trembling when she finally crooked her fingers just right, her thumb dragging over your clit with the perfect amount of pressure to finally make you cum for her.Â
Your eyes drifting down to her bare body over you, her perfect tits, her flawless skin, the shape of her hips and thighs as her fingers worked in and out of you, her thumb working you through your orgasm as you broke.Â
Bent into something unrecognizable under her pressure, her presence, blinking as your brain basically stopped functioning when she filled it with just thoughts of her.Â
Watching numbly when she stood up and walked to her bag and back, white hair spilling over her shoulder as she tilted her head to the side to look at the phone in her hand, squinting at the screen as she angled it to capture where you were splayed out in the bleached white sheets.Â
something about sucking on fingers just makes my brain short out,,, i could be mid sentence but if you shove your fingers in my mouth then my eyes will just glaze over n i'll nod along to whatever you say <3
Thinking about Yandere Gojo who approached you for a bet. Trying to prove he was everyoneâs type. Not expecting to fall head over heels in love with you. By the time he realized what he felt he could only hope that you would never find out how your relationship started but those sorts of secrets never stay hidden.
You could never have expected he would hurt you like this. Knowing that your relationship started as a lie made all of it seem hard to believe no matter how much Gojo tried to convince you his feelings for you were real. It was too bad Gojo wouldnât let you go even if you wanted to leave now.
Wordcount: 7k+
Notes: Not canon-compliant, yandere behaviour, stalking and violence.
"Are you really not gonna come out with us?" Buzzcut asked for the fifth time in a row making Gojo sigh.
"I told you I have no desire to come out and see you get rejected over and over again." Gojo responded making the others snicker and buzzcut turn an ugly shade of red. His narrow eyes flicking to something behind Gojo before his face seemed to take on an odd gleeful expression.
Gojo didn't care what was making buzzcut look like a cat who got the cream, he wouldn't even care if the dude caught fire and fell off a building when you weren't responding to any of his texts. He had sent you 8 messages since this morning hoping to have lunch with you between his classes instead of these doofuses but you were probably too caught up in your studying to respond to your boyfriend. He knew it was just that but he couldn't help but get antsy when he didn't hear back from you, immediately assuming the worst.
"Can't believe you're still with that nerd, you should be out there hitting on girls with us." Buzzcut said, capturing Gojo's attention by mentioning you. Gojo slid his phone in his pocket, finally turning his full attention on the boy who was just begging to be put in his place at this point.
"I have no interest in others, I'm in a relationship and don't call them a nerd again unless you want all your teeth knocked out." Gojo said, gritting his teeth as buzzcut scoffed out an ugly laugh. The others straightening up as they saw Gojo tense, as if ready to intervene whenever Gojo's restraint snapped.
"You call that a relationship? You're only fucking them cause of the bet but I guess their hole must really be something since you decided to stick with them even after winning."
The last thread of Gojo's restraint snapped and he lunged forward, the boy not even having a chance to brace himself before Gojo's fist was connecting with his nose with a highly satisfying crack. Blood spurting out as the bone twisted into a direction that was still an improvement from the way the boy had looked before.
Gojo was nowhere near done, fist smashing into the boy's face over and over until his eyes rolled back into his skull but the sound of your voice through the haze of fury that had consumed him made him freeze. His grip around the boy's collar slackened, blood running cold. Buzzcut slumped to the floor, the others dragging the boy out of Gojo's reach.
"Is what he said true?" You asked from behind him. Voice coloured with hurt making his stomach drop.
"Was I just a bet to you Satoru?" You asked and he forced himself to turn, praying this was just a nightmare and he would wake up any moment.
There you stood, pretty eyes filling with tears as you stared at him with a wounded expression on your face. He felt like the ground slid out from beneath his feet. You were never supposed to find out.
"No baby listen he was just spouting nonsense." Gojo said, taking a step towards you, hands reaching out for you but faltering as you took a step back. Arms coming up to wrap around yourself as though trying to protect yourself.
"Why would he say it if it wasn't true? That doesn't make any sense."
"Cause he's a fucking idiot that wants to mess with me. Please believe me darling, you mean the world to me." Gojo said, trying to reach for you again. Desperate to pull you in close to his chest when you looked so hurt and vulnerable.
"Don't come near me." You said, holding your hand out before you.
"How could you do this to me?" You asked, the first tear dropping from your eyes down your cheek making Gojo feel like his heart was breaking in half. He had made you cry. You, the only person to ever have loved him and wanted to be with him for who he was. Not his looks, not his popularity or his money but just for him, shitty as he was.
He could feel a lump forming at the back of his throat, eyes stinging as tears swelled in his eyes. A cloying desperation to somehow keep you with him and keep you from leaving making it hard to breathe.
"I love you, please don't cry. I was a fucking idiot, I never should have agreed to that dumb bet but other than not telling you about the bet everything else was real. The way I feel about you is real." Gojo said, heart in his throat as he waited for you to respond, uncaring of all the eyes on them from the crowd that had gathered.
"Do you think I would believe a word you say after what you've done? You turned me into a joke." You said, bottom lip beginning to wobble as you tried to hold it in.
Gojo felt like fucking scum for putting that wounded look on your face. You swiped at the tears running down your cheek, glancing over to the side and hunching in on yourself as you saw a crowd had formed around you two. Students whispering amongst themselves as they watched avidly. Gojo wanted to tear them all apart and pull you in to his arms to hide you away from their prying eyes.
"Darling come on let's go somewhere private. We can talk without these assholes watching. Just give me a chance to explain." Gojo said, wanting to shield you from their eyes but knowing you didn't want him touching you right now.
"I'm not going anywhere with you. Don't ever come near me again." You said turning to leave and Gojo couldn't stop himself, body moving automatically to stop you from leaving.
A large hand caught you by the shoulder, turning you back around and Gojo grabbed onto your upper arms to hold you in place. You pushed at his arms, trying to get him to release you.
"Darling please just give me a chance to explain." Gojo begged, pulling you in closer by his hold on you till you were nearly chest to chest. Your struggles nothing in comparison to the strength of the Gojo Satoru.
"Let go of me." You demanded, trying to push away. Finally glancing up to his face to say something more harsh but voice dying in your throat as you caught sight of him. Your heart skipped a beat at the look in those blue eyes. It was a level of desperation you had never witnessed before, a frenzy lighting up his gaze as tears poured down his cheeks making you struggle harder to get away.
It was a relief when Gojo's friends returned and pulled him away from you. It took the combined effort of four burly boys to hold Gojo back as he struggled to get to you. You snatched up your bag that had fallen when Gojo grabbed you and ran off, uncaring who you knocked into in your haste to get away from the most humiliating moment in your life.
You heard days later that Gojo had turned on all of them. Taking out his rage on them until someone called campus security and he was detained by them.
You hadn't seen him around campus when you returned to school after a few days of hiding out in your house too embarrassed to be seen in public, so you guessed the rumours that he had been suspended for his behaviour were true. That didn't mean though that he wasn't trying to contact you.
Gojo had been blowing up your phone with calls and text after text of rambling paragraphs. Filling up your voicemail before you had even gotten home from campus. You had blocked him but then started receiving calls from other numbers. Either he was using his friends phones to call you or the maniac was acquiring different numbers to call you from. Based on how rich you knew his family was, you wouldn't put it past him.
You wondered why he couldn't even do you the decency of leaving you alone now that you knew this had all been just a game to him. While you had been falling head over heels for the boy you thought you saw behind the image of popular boy Gojo Satoru, he had been laughing with his friends about what a fool you were. Probably reporting back to them on how far he had gotten with you, how easy it was to make you fall for him.
The image of them all laughing at you plagued your nightmares. You wanted nothing to do with Gojo. All you wanted was to move on from it all, for people to stop whispering and snickering behind your back at campus. For you to stop finding traces of him as you went about your day. For your heart to stop aching over someone who had been so cruel to you when you had done nothing to deserve it.
The first time you saw him at campus you couldn't help yourself and turned tail and ran. He seemed to have noticed you and chased after you, calling out your name and pleading for you to stop and just listen to what he had to say. You ran as fast as you could but couldn't compete with his freakishly long legs or the advantage he had of the crowd parting to make way when they saw him coming. He caught up with you in an empty corridor or perhaps waited until you reached one before blocking off your path and forcing you to stop running.
"Darling please just listen to what I have to say. I've been trying to get in touch with you for days. You won't respond to any of my calls or texts." Gojo said, hands held out before him as though he wanted to reach out to you but was trying to hold back.
"I don't want to hear anything you have to say. Just stay away from me." You said, firmly as you could while fighting to catch your breath from the impromptu chase.
"I know what I did was wrong. I never should have agreed to that bet. It was cruel and disgusting but I never would have met you without it. It's what brought me you." He said, watching your pretty features contort into disgust telling him you didn't understand what he meant. How could you? He had found his everything through that stupid bet.
There was no guarantee your paths would have crossed without it. You were in a different major, a different year. Had it not been for you being the first person to walk into the campus pub him and his friends had been in debating whether Gojo really was everyone's type, then there was no reason for you two to have become acquainted. One of his friends had challenged him to seduce the next person who walked in to the pub to prove he really was everyone's type as he claimed and that was what had set his sights on you.
You didn't look the type to just abandon your drunk friend you were clearly there to pick up and go home with the first pretty face who offered so Gojo had taken the slow approach with you. Staging a run-in at the university library. Learning your schedule so he could continue to coincidentally run in to you on campus.
You were a tough nut to crack, obviously having heard of his reputation. His friends were so glad you were the one to walk in when weeks passed without you so much as agreeing on a date and the more Gojo got to know you, the more glad he was that it was you too. He had more fun just talking to you whenever he saw you on campus than he had on any of the dates he had been on or talking to those friends he was supposedly doing this for. By the time you finally agreed to date him, Gojo had already fallen for you.
No one had ever been able to look past the rich, popular boy facade to the real him. Not only did you see the real Satoru, but you liked him for who he was. You didn't care for the expensive gifts or the reputation that came with being Gojo Satoru's partner. You were content with just spending time with him. Moreover you actually cared about him when no one ever had before.
He had never realized how empty and meaningless his life had been until he met you. It didn't take long before you became a need for him. He was hooked onto you in a way he had never been hooked onto anything.
He had told his friends the bet was off, that he wanted a real relationship with you. You meant so much more to him than his image, he'd lose everything he had if it meant he would get to keep you. Warning them to never speak of the bet or tell anyone else about it lest you ever hear and question their relationship.
He had thought they would heed his warnings, thinking them sufficiently intimated enough by him to keep their mouths shut. He hadn't anticipated that some of them would be so bitter as to try to sabotage the only good thing he had. Buzzcut had paid dearly for what he had done. Putting him in the hospital hadn't been enough. Gojo had gone to the hospital and broken enough bones until his bloodlust was somewhat quelled, though it wouldn't be fully quenched while that boy breathed or until you forgave him.
That was what had kept him from you for days. He'd been under house arrest, the family lawyers dealing with buzzcut's parents who were threatening to press charges and sue. Eventually they'd caved when offered a fully expensed move abroad where their son's facial reconstruction and schooling would be paid for. Though Gojo thought it was probably more so the understanding that if the Gojos could afford to make such offers it was unlikely much would come out of pressing charges against their son.
His eyes had longed to see you, chest feeling like it was caving in going so long without smelling your scent, hearing your sweet voice or feeling your touch. He had been deprived of your presence and it had turned him into an absolute mess.
Nothing mattered without you. Not food, not sleep, not him. He needed you like he needed air. You had turned him into a person but he didn't know how to be one without you.
"You're telling me you don't regret it? For days I didn't want to leave my apartment because I was too embarrassed to be seen. Even now everywhere I go people point at me and laugh and you can't even muster up a little regret?" You asked, rage making your insides feel like they were shaking.
"No darling that's not what I mean. Of course I regret hurting you, I want to tear myself to shreds for what I did to you but I'm glad I was led to you, regardless of how it was. You showed me how to be human, how to live." Gojo said, grabbing onto your hand and bringing it to his heart.
"You're not human." You said, yanking your hand out of his grasp.
"I can't live without you, please don't make me." He pleaded, getting all too close.
"Is this another bet? To see if you can fool the same idiot twice?" You asked.
"No, no of course not. You have to believe me I called that off the moment I realized what I felt for you." He said, blue eyes earnest and pleading but you had fallen for those eyes before. Believed him when he had been lying to you so you had no reason to trust him now.
"The fact that you ever agreed to do something so terrible disgusts me. I don't believe you but even if what you're saying is true it doesn't change the fact that you're deplorable enough to do such a thing. I want nothing to do with you. Stay away from me Gojo." You said, breaking his heart. This was what he had always feared, that you would want nothing to do with him once you realized what a terrible person he was.
"I can change." He promised desperation colouring his voice.
"Don't leave me. I promise I'll be better. I've changed since I met you and I'll do anything you want me to." Gojo pleaded making you falter at how frantic he seemed to convince you what he was saying was true. It didn't make any sense why he was acting like his world was ending when someone he had treated like a fool wanted to walk away from him.
When you were dating he would make you promise that you would never leave him, make you say it over and over again that you were his and you two would be together forever. It had seemed sweet to you then, thinking your boyfriend loved you so much he wanted to be with you forever.
You didn't know much about his childhood but knew his parents had never been very present. More the type to throw money into childcare and keeping their children entertained than actually try to parent. You had assumed that was what fueled the clinginess, the constant need for your reassurance and attention. Now you didn't know what was real and what just an act to make you fall for him.
"All I want is for you to leave me alone." You said going to walk away but he wrapped his arms around your waist, dropping to his knees before you making you falter.
Gojo hugged you tightly to keep you from leaving, burying his face in your stomach muttering something that got muffled against your skin so you couldn't make it out.
"Gojo get off of me." You said, pushing at his broad shoulders to get him to release you. He turned his face up towards you, eyes glassy and red rimmed with tears, tip of his nose pinkening.
"Don't leave me, I'll die without you." Gojo said making your heart clench at seeing the boy you had cared so much about looking so heartbroken. But the reality was he had done this, he had hurt you and you had no reason to believe him. For all you knew this could be an act too and even if it wasn't you couldn't trust him anymore.
"You'll be fine, onto the next bet in no time." You responded.
"No there will never be anyone else. Only you." Gojo said, uttering the words like a promise.
"Get off Gojo." You demanded, pushing with as much strength as you could muster. Not even caring if you hurt him at this point with how badly you wanted to get away before his words could melt your resolve.
"Stop calling me that, it's Toru to you." Gojo mumbled, tightening his hold on you and nuzzling his face against your stomach.
"Hey what do you two think you're doing?" A gruff voice called making you jump and Gojo's grip falter slightly. You took the opportunity to push away from him.
"This is a place of education, you can't be doing such things here." The professor said, walking towards both of you just as Gojo grabbed onto your wrist.
"Let go of them them right this instant." The professor ordered but Gojo only stared stubbornly at the man, holding your wrist so tightly it was beginning to ache.
"Let go before I call security." The man demanded.
"Gojo let go, you're hurting me." You said making him turn to you, finally releasing your wrist as he saw the pained expression on your face.
As soon as you were released you ducked past the professor to leave, walking as fast as you could without breaking out into another run. Hearing the professor ask Gojo where he thought he was going and glancing back as you turned the corner to see him blocking Gojo's way.
You went out through the first exit you could find, knowing the professor wouldn't be able to hold Gojo for long and he would come after you again the moment he could. Your classes of the day weren't as important to you as ensuring you didn't run into Gojo again so you went straight home.
You had already put in a request to transfer to another university when the next semester started. There was only a couple weeks before exams left in this one and you could get by without attending lectures. Not only was it humiliating to be seen when word of what had happened had spread all across campus, there was also the threat of running into Gojo who seemed to have decided he wasn't done with you yet.
Gojo spent the next couple of days waiting outside your classes hoping to see you again so he could talk to you but it seemed you had stopped coming to school. Your friends hadn't seen you either when he asked and neither had any of your classmates. It was driving him insane to not see you. You wouldn't answer any texts or calls and had hung up as soon as you heard his voice when he convinced one of your friends to let him use their phone to call you.
You were backing him into a corner. He had to see you, he was dying without you. It felt like he couldn't breathe, no amount of alcohol could make him stop thinking of you. His friends had tried to convince him to forget you, getting black eyes for daring to say you were nothing special.
Even his parents had noticed. His mother taking the time from her busy day to tell him his dark circles were getting out of hand. Suggesting he stop smoking so much, he was starting to smell like an ash tray. Luckily she hadn't waited for a response since if pressed he wouldn't have given a particularly appropriate one.
You left him no choice but to wait outside your apartment. You may not be going to school but you had to leave at some point and then maybe he could talk to you where no one would interrupt the both of you. He knew how kindhearted you were, you had to forgive him. You couldn't just walk away from what you both had like it was nothing. Couldn't leave him when you had promised to stay with him forever.
It was ridiculous to be holed up in your apartment to avoid running into your ex but Gojo had left you no choice. Apparently not even your friends could be trusted since they had let Gojo use their phone to call you. You could avoid going out to see them and even not go to your last couple classes before exams but eventually you had to go grocery shopping.
You followed after the herd of people filing out of the elevator towards the door, glad you had decided to live off campus so at least no one here stared at you or whispered about you within hearing range. You thought you were imagining it when you saw a mop of white hair outside through the large group of people ahead of you but a guy like him didn't exactly blend in. Even leant back against the wall he was still taller than everyone else around, standing out like a beacon amongst all the ordinary folk.
You ducked behind a wall, getting a couple curious glances thrown at you but seeming odd was the least of your worries when your ex-boyfriend was actively stalking you. Your first instinct was to call the police but standing outside an apartment building wasn't a crime and the most they would do when showed all the texts is tell him to stop contacting you. Nothing would come out of a complaint other than taking up your valuable study time with finals right around the corner.
It was fortunate your building had another exit in case of emergencies. People usually stood around there smoking too so you could probably be let in once you got back though you might have to wait a couple minutes. That was preferable to Gojo making a scene in front of all the building residents.
You were practically out of everything since you had been avoiding leaving the house as long as you could. You got everything on the list you had made for yourself, constantly looking over your shoulder to ensure Gojo hadn't followed you there.
It would be a struggle to carry it all back but it was fortunate the supermarket was so close to your house. Though you normally would have stuck to the main roads, how heavy all the bags were made you cut across the industrial area that was like a ghost town on the weekends.
You had been walking while cursing to yourself for not thinking of getting a taxi even if it was a short walk when your arms felt like they were breaking off. Falling quiet when you heard the sound of footsteps behind you. You turned quickly to check but couldn't see anyone, a cold sweat breaking out on your body as it now sounded like the footsteps were on the other side making you whirl around to face forward again.
Your heart was pounding in your chest as you hurried through all the buildings, all too aware of how many places someone could hide and jump out from. It had been incredibly stupid to take the shortcut when you knew no one would be here. You couldn't shake the feeling of being watched but tried to convince yourself it was just paranoia, a scream escaping you when you heard a door slam startling a group of crows nearby.
They cawed at you in vexation and for a moment you felt quite foolish. Clearly someone was still working there, maybe maintenance or cleaning since you had heard a door. It was slightly reassuring to know you weren't alone and it wasn't just because someone was prowling after you.
You could see the bend in the street coming up and hastened your pace, eager to get back on the main road. A door opened behind you but you didn't glance back, too focused on getting out of there as fast as you could.
A hand wrapped over the lower half of your face making you jolt as you were tugged back into a broad chest. The hand muffling your scream as you were dragged backwards. You dropped the grocery bags you held to claw at the hand over your mouth but it was no use. Your strength was no match for your assailant's. They managed to drag you into the nearest building despite your struggles to stay rooted and throw off the arm they had wound around your waist.
You were slammed back against a wall as the door shut with a bang behind you both. Your hair strewn across your face in your struggles mixed with the poor lighting in the building as the door blocked off any of the outside light making you unable to see your attacker.
You pushed and shoved at them blindly, nails catching on skin and tearing until they took their hand off your mouth to catch your wrists. Pinning them both next to your head. Your eyes adjusted slowly as you panted for air, bringing into focus red-rimmed bright blue eyes taking in every part of your face like a man soaking in the sun after being left in the dark for too long.
It was Gojo but he was almost unrecognizable. A mad glint in his eyes, dark circles beneath them so pronounced it looked like he hadn't slept since you last saw him. Cheeks hollow as though he hadn't been eating, hair a floppy mess like he had been running his hands through it as you know he was prone to do when stressed. Red lines slashed across his temple to his nose where your nails seemed to have caught him.
You turned your face away as you caught the stench of cigarettes and booze. He hadn't been in good shape when you had seen him at university but now he looked like a mad man. The Gojo Satoru you had known was nowhere to be seen.
For the first time you felt truly afraid of him but tried to push down the fear. Convincing yourself he was just a boy from university and you could handle him.
"Gojo what do you think you're doing?" You asked, trying to keep your voice from shaking.
"Don't call me that." He said making anger boil up from your core giving you a bit of courage.
"This is insane Gojo, let me go right now or I swear to god I will scream." You threatened.
"You can scream all you want darling but no one is going to hear you. There's no one here." Gojo said making your heart sink. You knew he was right, no one came here on the weekend and no one would hear you on the streets nearby screaming from within a building.
"Let go." You demanded again, fighting with all your might to get out of his hold. Not caring if you bruised your wrists, arching up off the wall to try to push against him but he leaned his weight onto you. Keeping you pinned in place with his whole body pressed against you leaving you not even an inch of space to try to weasel out.
You turned your face away in disgust as he pressed his cheek against yours. Burying his face in your hair and inhaling your scent greedily as you trembled against him. The reality of your situation settling in.
Gojo was both much larger than you and much stronger. If he tried to hold you down there was no chance of you getting away. Your only hope was to get him to release you himself.
"G-Gojo you're scaring me." You muttered, hoping that would make him back off.
"I asked you not to call me that." He responded, nuzzling his nose along the line of your jaw to your temple.
"Satoru please let go of me." You relented.
"So you can run away again?" He asked and you shook your head quickly, forcing yourself to turn your face back towards him. Gulping at how close it put both of you, his nose nearly brushing against yours when you faced him. His eyes dropping to your lips.
"I won't, I promise. We can talk, just please let go. You're hurting me." You said and he looked up into your eyes. You tried your best to hold his gaze, trying to keep the fear off your expression so he would believe you.
"Fine." He said, easing off of you and releasing your wrists. You rubbed at each of them, watching him warily. Trying not to look towards the door since you knew with him standing right in front of you there was no chance of you outrunning him and it wouldn't do to put him more on guard than he already was.
"Sit." He said, dragging over a little stool. You took his momentary distraction to take a quick look around. This seemed like a factory of sorts and you could see there was one more door at the other end of the building, though you couldn't tell from here if it led outside or to stairs. You sat down as he glanced back at you, leaning away when he got down on his knees before you, taking your hands in his own.
"I'm sorry we have to talk in a place like this but you gave me no choice. It's a lucky thing I recognized you walking down the street. Can't believe you'd go so far as to leave through the fire exit to avoid your own boyfriend." He muttered.
"We're not dating anymore." You reminded him carefully, regretting it when he clenched his jaw in anger. Eyes narrowed down at your hands in his.
"I know I made a mistake darling and I'm sorry. I never should have agreed to that bet but I can't change the fact that I was an asshole before I met you. The thing is, you changed me. You made me want to be better. I swear I'll spend my life making it up to you." Gojo said, glancing up at you and you tried to hide the unease on your face.
"Satoru why don't we go talk at my house? This isn't really a great place to have this conversation." You said, hoping he would agree. If you could just get him to let you out of here you'd start screaming the moment you got to the main road. This was beyond time to involve the police.
"No." He protested loudly making you flinch.
"I know what you're trying to do, I'm not an idiot." He continued.
"I'm not trying anything. We can go to my place and talk things out there." You offered, forcing yourself to lean towards him and hold his gaze with your own imploring one.
"You really think I'm stupid enough to fall for that? You've been avoiding me for weeks and suddenly now you want to talk at your house? Why don't you hear me out here? I'm trying to talk to you but you're not even listening." Gojo said.
"I'm only saying that because you're bleeding. I didn't know it was you, I didn't mean to scratch you so hard." You said, pulling your hand out of his and trying to keep it from noticeably trembling as you brought it to his face. Cupping your cheek in his hand, running your thumb gently under the scratch marks. He froze for a moment at the feel of your touch after so long before melting into it, nuzzling his face into your hand. Seeming to loose some of his steam as he gazed up at you with hope filled eyes.
"Come on, let's go to my place. I can put some ointment on for you Toru." You cajoled. He slumped forward against you, going boneless at hearing your old nickname for him.
"Fine, let's go. This place isn't suitable for you anyway. It's all cold and dark but promise me you're not just saying this to try to get away again?" Gojo asked, perking up to look you in the eye.
"I'm not, it's cold here and we need to dress that." You said, nodding at his scratches.
It seemed to work as he got up on his feet, holding his hand out to you and you placed your hand within his, letting him pull you up. Holding your breath as he led you out, near faint with relief once you were finally out of that dark, dank building where no one would have even heard you scream.
"Actually let's go to mine, my folks aren't home so we can talk there. I'm parked just on the other side." Gojo said just as you caught sight of a woman wearing a grey uniform loading some trash bags into a van.
Your breath caught in your throat and Gojo seemed to notice your reaction, turning his head to look at you but before he could do anything you dragged in a breath. Already having made up your mind.
"Help." You screamed loud as you could, ripping your hand from Gojo's and breaking out into a run. You didn't even get more than a couple steps away before Gojo was pulling you back roughly into his arms.
Slamming his hand over your mouth, he dragged you into the space shadowed between the two buildings. Your heart pounding in your chest as you prayed fervently that the woman would investigate the screams for help.
You struggled against Gojo, leaning out so you could see around the corner, catching sight of the women holding out a headphone, glancing around. Your screams now muffled by Gojo's palm. You tried to kick back to make some noise but he spun you both so you were pressed into the wall. His body pinning you in place.
Your screams died in your throat as you heard the distinct sound of a car door slamming shut, the rumbling of an engine starting up and the van driving off. You sobbed into Gojo's hand, slumping against the wall in defeat. You had ruined your best bet at getting away by getting too antsy. If you had just waited till you were on the main street then you could have been saved.
"Didn't I tell you not to try anything?" Gojo whispered gruffly into your ear.
"You can't get away from me darling. I won't let anyone get between us. It's a lucky thing she didn't hear you, if she had I would have had to kill her." He said making you cry even harder.
Sobs shuddering through you and he removed his hand from your face, running his hands down the length of your hair as though trying to soothe you though his words were doing anything but.
"I can't believe you would lie to me like that. I trusted you, now I know better." He said, twisting you around in his arms so he could see your face. He swiped at the tears running down your cheeks and you weakly pushed at his chest, trying to get him off of you but knowing you stood no chance.
"I hate you, get off of me." You sobbed, no longer thinking clearly or you would have known that was the worst thing to say to him in that moment.
He grabbed your face in his hands suddenly, forcing you to turn your face up to his.
"Don't you fucking say that. You don't hate me, you love me. You said so yourself. You're just mad but you'll get over it. You're such a kindhearted person, you'll forgive me." Gojo said, swooping down and crashing his lips over yours. Your outraged cry was muffled by his mouth, you tried to turn your head but were unable to while caught in his grasp. His lips moved against yours as he tried to deepen the kiss, wanting you to open your mouth so he could get a proper taste of you as he had been dying to.
You bit down on his lip, left with no other choice. The metallic taste of his blood flooding into your mouth before he pulled back. Not releasing you entirely, instead pressing biting kisses down your throat. Mumbling mine over and over again in a crazed frenzy. The sticky, tacky feeling of his blood and saliva cooling on the skin of your throat making you so disgusted you felt like you would throw up.
"Let go." You screamed, pushing at him. You brought your knee up, hitting him squarely between his thighs making his grip on you falter and you took the opportunity to slip out from beneath him.
You ran as hard as you could, not bothering to call for help when you doubted anyone would be able to hear you. You could hear footsteps behind you making your heart feel like it would pound its way out of your chest in fear knowing he was already giving chase.
You made the foolish mistake of glancing back, your toe jamming into the ground and nearly making you trip but you were able to right yourself. The few seconds costing you most of the distance you had put between the both of you. You turned to face forward again, trying to force your legs to go faster.
A hand grazed your shoulder making your heart skip a beat. You ducked out of the way, unfortunately having to switch directions from towards the road to another building in order to evade his grasp.
"You can't outrun me darling." Gojo yelled from behind you, not even slightly out of breath though you felt like you were already panting for air.
You ignored him, trying to see if there was a way you could run between the buildings and get out onto the road but they seemed to be fenced in on the other side. You wouldn't make it back to the street the supermarket was on before he caught you, his footsteps were getting closer with every second that passed.
You whirled around before you could have a chance to think it over, ducking beneath his arm that swept out to grab you and running past him back towards the road. For a moment you couldn't hear footsteps behind you.
You didn't dare look back, focused on getting off this street and to the main road where there would be other people who could help you. There was only two more large buildings before you hit the bend that led to the main road. You pumped your legs even harder with your target so close by, just about to turn past the last building when out of your peripheral you saw a shadow, something slamming into your temple before you could turn to look.
Your head was whipped over to the other side and you went down instantly. Unable to feel the pain as your vision blurred, white sneakers in your line of vision. You felt hands grabbing you from beneath your arms, dragging you up and clutching your body against something warm. You blinked sluggishly to try to keep the blood out of your eye, fighting to hold onto consciousness as your head spun.
"I'm so sorry darling but I had to do this. We need to go away from all these people trying to keep us apart and you're just so angry you won't listen. You left me no choice." You heard him say, making your hands twitch as you realized it was him holding you but you didn't have the strength left to try to push him away.
You could only mumble out a soft protest that was hushed cooingly. A large trembling hand brushing back your hair that was plastered against your face in blood.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of you. You'll see, we're going to be so happy." Gojo muttered, lifting you up into his arms and starting to head for his car, trying not to jostle you too much. He faded in and out of focus as the darkness threatened to consume you.
"Just us, no one to get between us. Together, forever like you promised."
His words were the last things you heard before you lost the battle to stay awake and the darkness pulled you under.
Thinking about Yandere Neighbour Gojo who had only started talking to you to use you as a cover when his one-night stands came back for more. Claiming he had entered a relationship with you and using you to chase his many lovers off. He hadn't anticipated how much fun you would be to talk to. How calming your presence would be, how endearing you would come to seem to him. Before he knew it he didn't want anyone else, just you. Whether you wanted him back or not.
Wordcount: 13k+ (Supposed to be like 6k at most but again that freaky-eyed bastard just does not let me write a short fic about him)
Notes: Not canon-compliant. Yandere behaviour, forced confinement and violence. Dub-con and non-con touching and kissing
Your neighbour was at it again, the sound of the bedframe knocking against the wall making it seem like they might just crash into your apartment at any moment. Moans so loud it sounded like someone was getting exorcised instead of merely getting their rocks off.
You pulled your noise cancelling earbuds out of your bedside drawer, plugging them into your ears with a sigh. You could only hope this particular session would be over before you fell asleep so you could take them out to ensure you didn't miss your alarm in the morning. Finally getting to read without the sounds of fornication to disturb you.
You must have fallen asleep while reading, when you woke up in the morning it was twenty minutes past when your alarm had started ringing. Turning the alarm off you forced yourself out of your bed and through your morning routine to get ready for work. Skipping a breakfast with the intention of grabbing something during a quiet moment at the library.
The elevator seemed to have been fixed over the weekend, making you feel slightly better about your day as you waited for it to open at your floor. Hearing a door open down the hallway and refusing to turn back knowing all too well what you would see.
"I'll walk you out. Need to check the mail." You heard a masculine voice say making you sigh inwardly. The elevator doors opened just as the found of footsteps started down the hall and you stood as far against the side as you could, hoping to be able to claim ignorance if caught not holding the door open.
A large pale hand grabbed onto one side of the closing door just as it was about to shut, the porcelain greek god like bare upper body of your neighbour coming into view as the doors opened back up. Gojo Satoru stood tall and proud as his partner from the night before clapped and cheered for him as though he'd done something miraculous. A smirk twisting up those naturally pouty pink lips as he sauntered in.
You crowded yourself further into the wall, not wanting to bear witness to their top 1 percent joy this early in the morning. They could have been mistaken for filming a condom ad with the sexual tension the two were oozing and how good looking they were, the pretty girl giggling as Gojo cornered her against the wall.
The moment the elevator doors opened you went flying past the lovey dovey pair, not wanting to spend even a moment longer in the presence of such nauseating physical perfection. It was criminal to have to bear witness to when you hadn't even had a drop of caffeine yet.
You'd never spoken to your neighbour, to be fair you didn't speak to any of your neighbours except when the lady across had asked if you lived in the building. That too because she had grown suspicious seeing you loitering in the doorway as you tried to find your key. You had the magical ability to go unseen, blending into the background wherever you went and it suited you very well.
You weren't like your glamorous neighbour who had a new paramour every week. Each as ridiculously beautiful as the last. Some you never saw again and others you heard crying and screaming outside his door late into the night. That was how you'd learned his name, between all the curse words and wishes of ill will, they called him Gojo Satoru when threatening him.
It was quite possible you may have never spoken to one another if only you hadn't bumped right into him later that week. You'd been on your way back from a closing shift at work, having picked up some thai curry to treat yourself for getting through a long week. The moment the elevator doors opened you could hear the screaming and crying telling you your neighbour was going through another rather one-sided breakup.
You kept your head down, not even looking up as the expletives got more colourful or the threats more ruinous. You had almost made it to your door when suddenly something large slammed into you making your container of curry pop open and spill all over you.
You stared down in shock as the hot curry sank into your clothes, glancing up slowly to look into blindingly bright blue eyes. You grimaced, about to step past him when a large hand folded around your wrist, holding you in place.
"Darling I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were coming early." Gojo said and you frowned at him, wondering if he was mistaking you for someone else but you really did not look like any of his usual visitors.
"Uh I think-" You started but were cut off as Gojo yanked you forward past your door to his apartment where the girl was watching you both in bewilderment.
"Goodness look what I've done. I'm so sorry, let me get these clothes in the wash and run you a nice bath. Sorry Shelly I forgot to tell you but my darling girlfriend here has finally decided she's done exploring and so we're back together. I can't be seeing anyone else, we're going to be exclusive now." Your neighbour said, opening his door and pulling you into his apartment. Slamming the door shut the moment you both were through.
"My name's Kelly you asshole." The girl outside yelled, a bang sounding against the door as though she had kicked it making you flinch. The sound of angry stomping footsteps down the hall told you she had finally had enough and left.
"Thank you so much for helping me back there." Gojo said and you turned towards him to find his blue eyes already on you. So bright they were a bit unsettling.
"Um no problem." You said, not thinking it was very polite to point out that you had actually not helped out so much as been dragged around like a ragdoll.
"I'm so sorry about your clothes and your food darling, I can wash those for you if you want."
"Sorry, I do need to clarify, you don't know me." You said, hoping he wasn't actually mistaking you for someone he knew. Considering the many visitors you had seen coming in and out of his apartment it wasn't too unfair to wager he might have lost track of all the faces at some point.
"I know." He said with a blindingly bright smile.
"I can give you something to wear while I throw those in the laundry for you. Order you some food while you wait to make up for ruining your clothes and dinner." Gojo offered and you came to the sad realization that you had blended into the background so well that your neighbour of the past eight months had no idea you lived right next door.
"We're neighbours actually, I live in apartment 610. I'll just go change there." You said, awkwardly pointing towards the direction of your apartment.
"Are we really?" Gojo asked and you nodded.
"Wow you must have just moved in." He continued.
"Not quite, but you have a good night." You said, about to leave before he could drill in any further how very unmemorable you were.
"Can I buy you dinner? To make up for making you drop yours?" Gojo asked and you shook your head, already reaching for his door handle.
"Wait, let me at least pay you for the dry cleaning and food then. You really saved me from what probably would have been an hour minimum more of screaming and crying."
He didn't even wait for you to voice your protests before he ran into his room. Emerging after a moment with a $100 bill in his hand. He grabbed your wrist, putting the bill into your hand and walking you backwards out of his apartment through the door you had opened before you got a chance to tell him it was entirely too much.
"Let me know if you need any help getting around the area, I've been living here for 8 months so I know it quite well." Gojo said, beaming down at you.
"Will do." You muttered, merely nodding as he bid you a goodnight and shut the door in your face. Turning to look at the spilled curry and your shoulders slumping as you realized you would have to clean that. Though you had made $100 so it wasn't all bad. Take out the cost of ordering food delivery to make up for the curry you'd dropped and you still had enough to treat yourself a couple more times than planned for this month.
That day you learned that on top of being a bit arguably promiscuous, your neighbour was also a clueless member of the upper class that didn't know how much dry cleaning and thai takeaway cost. What he was doing in your apartment building was beyond you, but you could only hope you wouldn't run into him again.
Unfortunately that was not the last time you walked right into one of Gojo's breakups. The next time was at the elevator. You had been on your way back from some errands, waiting in the lobby for the elevator to take you and your heavy grocery filled bags up to the eleventh floor.
The doors had opened revealing a girl holding your neighbour by the collar of his shirt. On the tips of her toes to get as close to screaming in his face as she could with him being over a foot taller. His blue eyes landed on you over her head and seemed to light up instantly filling you with trepidation.
"Darling you're here. You should have called, why are you carrying all these heavy bags yourself?" Gojo asked, sidestepping the girl and smoothly swooping to take your bags from you as you stared at him in wide-eyed bewilderment.
"Who is that?" The girl asked, lovely delicate little features twisted into a sneer as she looked at you.
"My muse." Gojo answered dreamily, looking at you in such performative adoration that it gave you the chills.
"That's your muse?" The girl asked and you couldn't blame her. You weren't exactly the picture of a muse on your best day but today was errand day so you were really slumming it as you tried to get through your chores to enjoy your evening.
"Yes, this is my darling muse so I am unfortunately quite unavailable for a relationship as I will be devoting all my time to this beauty. I wish you all the best." Gojo said, wrapping his free arm around your waist and tugging you back onto the elevator. Making a big show of leaning down to nuzzle your head and it was all you could do not to grimace.
"You smell very good." He mumbled against your head as the elevator doors shut and you leaped away from him.
"Thank you, I shower." You responded, reaching out to grab your bags back from him as he huffed out a little laugh. Holding the bags out of reach making you glance up at him in annoyance.
Now you may not have been the typical image of a muse, but there was no denying you were cute. Big, pretty eyes narrowed at him. Swimming in your oversized sweater and letting out a huff of annoyance as you failed to retrieve your groceries. You had felt all soft against him too like you'd feel great to cuddle. Not to mention it was kind to let him use you for the second time to escape someone who got overly clingy.
"Have you eaten yet?" Gojo asked, he had initially been planning to eat with the girl who'd just left but then she'd started talking about how she was hoping to score the Givenchy ad and he had decided it was time to call it quits.
"No." You responded, looking confused as to why he would ask.
"Great, let me buy you dinner to show my gratitude for you saving me yet again."
"There's really no need. Both times I've just sort of stood there while you mislead some very pretty girls into believing you're taken, by me."
"You could have walked away but you didn't. I owe you, let me treat you to whatever you want. Or I can choose since you're new to the area." He said making you sigh.
"I've got leftovers, thanks though."
"Great, you can feed me." Gojo said, stalking off down the hall as the elevator doors opened leaving you staring after him in shock.
"It's not really enough for two since I wasn't expecting a guest." You said, hurrying after him.
"No worries, I eat like a bird." He responded, standing expectantly outside your door, still holding your grocery bags.
Gojo Satoru did not in fact eat like a bird, unless the bird in question was the dinosaur that birds were said to be descendants of. He ate most of the stew you had made yesterday and intended to freeze so you could get some more meals out of it. You'd even had to make more rice when he asked for another bowl after finishing his second helping.
You'd learned over your mostly one-sided conversation with him over dinner that he was a photographer. Quite a nit-picky one by the sounds of it since he claimed he only photographed people and things of interest to him. That had earned him a reputation in the industry as having a discerning eye for rising stars which was why a lot of models approached him.
Suddenly all the beautiful people constantly coming and going from his apartment made sense.
"I don't like being used though. I make it crystal clear from the start that I don't mix my personal life with my work but they always end up wanting me to either include them in my next work or wanting a referral. Some want a relationship but I don't really do those either." Gojo said, finding a bag of candy amongst the groceries you had yet to put away and pulling it out of the bag.
"Mind if I open this?" He asked and you shook your head. You had enough manners not to deny guests food in your house.
You watched him eat your candy thinking about what different lives you led. While you were just your average employed person trying to keep up with all the chores and dreaming about having savings, this man from a whole different world lived right next to you. A world in which beauty was so plentiful that it had to be accompanied by something else to make it interesting. Where he had no idea how much dry-cleaning cost and could invite himself over without the slightest fear of rejection.
"You come from a rich family don't you?" You asked unthinkingly, voice coloured with so much disdain and the question so unexpected when you had been mostly quiet that Gojo nearly choked on the candy he had just popped into his mouth. Barking out a loud laugh that startled you back into basic decency.
"Oh sorry, that wasn't very polite of me to ask. You don't have to answer that." You reassured but Gojo waved you off.
"Is it that obvious?" He asked with a grin and you gave a little nod, unable to lie so blatantly.
"My dad owns a popular clothing brand. He wanted me to take over the company and I just wanted to disappoint him, hence photography." Gojo said and you nodded as though that made any sense to you. Being handed down a successful brand but instead too caught up in rebellion to take the opportunity.
"I would have become a painter but I'm terrible at it. Photography comes a little easier to me." He said and you nodded, unsure how to respond to that.
"I can't remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal. You're a great cook." Gojo complimented, leaning back and placing a hand on his somehow still perfectly flat stomach. Sometimes you thought people like him defied the laws of nature. Simply too perfect for things like bloating or acne.
"Thanks." You muttered, trying your best at a smile despite the envious turn your thoughts had taken but it didn't seem like you quite succeeded when Gojo barked out another laugh, startling you.
"You really can't hide your emotions, can you?" He asked, grinning broadly at you. Blue eyes positively sparkling with mirth only making you feel more lackluster in comparison and desperate to get this otherworldly perfect creature out of your apartment.
"I've been told I'm not great at it." You responded.
"By who? A boyfriend?" He asked, the grin falling from his face into a little smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"No, my boss. She says I need to keep control of my expressions when I get difficult customers."
"That's strange, I didn't take you for someone who would be working with people."
"I didn't think I would be but I'm the most junior member of the library so I don't get to choose my station. If they want me at the front then I've gotta be there."
"You're a librarian?" He asked as though it was the best news he had ever heard and you could only nod in the face of such enthusiasm.
"So you like to read?"
"I do." You said and he nodded his head along in agreement.
"I used to like to read but don't much have the patience for it anymore. Bring a book for me sometime, anything you like. I want to get back into reading." He said and you nodded though you had no intention of ever giving Gojo a library book even if it wasn't under your account. You had a strong feeling that the library would never see that book again.
You failed to stifle a yawn and Gojo got to his feet, carrying his bowl over to the sink and rinsing it off before setting it inside.
"You seem tired, I'll head out."
You walked him out, dutifully following behind though it was your apartment. Gojo Satoru was just one of those people that could enter a space and make it seem like it belonged to them. He swung open the door but turned in the doorway making you stumble back a step since you had been expecting him to walk out.
"Your apartment is very well-furnished for someone who just moved in." He said and you had to suppress the urge to roll your eyes by pressing your lips together into a thin line, calling upon all your patience to end this impromptu dinner party.
"Next time you gotta let me buy you dinner to thank you for the meal and helping me out of a tight spot twice now."
You only nodded again, willing to assent to anything as long as it got him out of your apartment with all his sparkling splendor. Sure he would probably not recognize you by next week.
"Well nighty night neighbour." He said, sauntering over to his apartment and just pushing the door open. There was apparently no need to lock his door since clearly people like him were even above getting robbed, but that was your last straw. You shut your door and locked it immediately in case he decided to come back for any reason.
That night there were no noises and you slept peacefully. Hoping you would never have to be involved in a breakup that wasn't yours again.
However it seemed the universe was not aligned with that. The incident repeated itself over and over. Suddenly it was like a week couldn't go by without you walking in on one of his breakups. At the mailbox, at the emergency exit, in front of the elevator, then in front of the stairs when you decided to take those to avoid him.
Every time his blue eyes would light up when they laid on you. He'd tell the girl you were his girlfriend that had just decided to give him another chance taking him conveniently off the market. To his credit, though he let them yell and berate him as they wanted, but didn't take it sitting when any of them turned on you. Looming over them with the easy smile dropping from his face as he told them he thought it best they left.
Though that terrifying expression had never been levelled at you, it made you quite determined to never get on his bad side. Afterwards he would either offer to treat you to dinner, or as you soon learned would follow you to your apartment and eat your dinner if you refused. After the third time of watching him wolf down your food like he'd never been fed before, you stopped denying his offers to buy you a meal.
Each time he would talk non-stop and force you to talk too. Letting out those loud barks of laughter that you had come to associate with him even while in the midst of quiet restaurants. When people turned to look at the noise they'd seem to positively melt when they saw where the laugh had come from. Smiling along dopily as though it was incredibly sweet instead of disruptive just because of the way he looked.
Your sour expression would only serve to further amuse him. There was free food though, good food at that so you tolerated it. It was also only fair that you got compensated somehow for being used by him to get rid of the pretty models after him for one thing or another.
After a long week of work and a particularly bad Gojo breakup where the girl had burst into fits of tears and you had been forced to stand by while Gojo tried to console her and make her go away at the same time, you were quite looking forward to the weekend. So when a knock came at your door after you had changed into your pajamas, you were not eager to open it and instead sank lower onto your couch and held your breath so they would hopefully assume no one was home.
"I saw you come in, open up darling." You heard the now familiar voice say and you sighed, praying to any gods listening to move one of you before you rose to answer the door.
There stood Gojo Satoru in a pair of grey sweatpants and a black hoodie, holding two boxes of pizza and two pints of ice cream balanced overtop.
"Are you not even going to let her eat before you break up with her?" You asked, this was cruelty you couldn't simply stand by and allow to happen. If you were promised pizza and ice cream and instead someone broke up with you making you leave single and hungry you'd be devastated.
"Break up with who?" Gojo asked.
"The girl I'm guessing is either in your apartment or about to come over." You clarified.
"No silly, there's no girl. This is for us. I thought we'd watch a movie and eat pizza and ice cream. You're not working tomorrow right?" Gojo said, walking right past you into your apartment leaving you blinking at the empty space where he stood trying to process what was happening.
"Did you call her over to see us here?" You asked following him in and watching as he set the food down on your coffee table, plugging the ice cream into your freezer and getting out plates as though he were the one who lived here.
"Call who over? There's no girl as I told you. I just came over to hang out with my pal. You're not working tomorrow so I thought it would be okay if we stayed up late and watched movies." He said, in theory the words made sense but coming from your gorgeous, air-brushed in real life big-shot of a photographer neighbour they were practically gibberish.
"How do you know I'm not working tomorrow?" You asked, choosing to tackle the statement little by little as your third-grade teacher had taught you when faced with complex problems. She'd been talking about math word problems but you applied that wisdom liberally.
"You told me you work alternating Saturdays and you worked last Saturday which means you're not working this Saturday unless Jeanine hoodwinked you into covering her shift again. You swore last time though that would be the last time you switched with her so I'm choosing to have faith in you."
"So you're just here to eat pizza and watch movies?" You asked.
"And ice cream, don't forget about that." Gojo chimed, walking past you to take a seat on your couch and turning on the TV.
"Mind if I choose the movie? I've been wanting to watch this one. Everyone says it's terrible." Gojo said and you could only mumble out a yes.
"Come sit." He said, patting the spot next to him and you followed his orders. Fully expecting a gorgeous young woman to throw your door open any moment, storming in and calling you a home-wrecking good for nothing curse word. It took you robotically nibbling on 3 slices and only making faint humming noises as Gojo talked incessantly over the movie before it sank in that Gojo Satoru really had come over just to watch a movie with you.
Why he chose to hangout with you on a Friday night was beyond you but you weren't rude enough to ask him to leave and he had brought over pizza and excellent ice cream. Though you did have to slap his hand away more than once when he tried to sneak his spoon into yours to steal your cookie dough pieces.
When you were both done he shivered at the cold ice cream and demanded a blanket which once brought to him he rudely curled into all by himself and then plunked his head down into your lap. You froze looking down at him. He had on occasion put an arm around your shoulder or waist or held your hand as he fake-professed his undying love for you before the women he was breaking up with but he'd never touched you when you were both alone.
It wasn't really inappropriate but there was an odd intimacy to the act of resting your head on someone's lap that had taken you aback. You guessed he was just used to being overly familiar with people in his line of work.
Of course not only was he inconsiderate to hog your blanket and use your thighs as a head rest, but he also had the audacity to fall asleep on you as the sequel of the terrible movie he'd chosen played out on the screen with the remote out of your reach.
You sighed, wondering if you should just push him off but your good manners and fear of his wrath kept you from doing so. Once the movie was over and the credits began to play and you really needed to get to the remote you tried shifting his head but he only turned over to face you. Wrapping an arm around your waist and digging his face into your stomach. Effectively rendering you incapable of moving him or yourself.
You sighed, resolved to never answer the door again regardless of who was knocking as you sat through the third movie in this series that never should have been created.
You were almost asleep yourself, head lolling and each time you'd be on the brink of sleep you'd be woken by the motion of your head falling forwards. On one such occasion you jolted out of sleep just as a terrible sound echoed out of the TV making you jump and waking the member of the bourgeoise asleep on top of you.
He rose with a low groan, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and stretching out his arms making the muscles flex and revealing a pale strip on his toned, muscled torso making you wish you had pushed him off of you when you had the chance. Blue eyes opening slowly and a slow smile blooming on his lips as they laid on you.
"You're so comfortable." He muttered, positively latching onto you as though you were a stuffed animal.
You pushed at his rock-solid shoulder, trying to get him off of you but he sleepily bargained for five more minutes and rested his head over yours. Near smothering you in his overly large pecs making you grimace.
"Off now." You demanded and he pulled back with a pout, expression turning sheepish as you got unsteadily to your feet and glared at him when your legs felt like they had pins and needles going down them.
"You sleep like the dead." You muttered, smacking your fists into your legs to rid them of the odd feeling.
"I usually have a lot of trouble sleeping. I can't remember the last time I had a nap." He said and you scoffed making him looking at you with an innocent puzzled expression which combined with his sleep rumpled hair and clothes made you feel a bit like a sardonic old hag.
"You really expect me to believe you don't sleep well when you're constantly that fresh-faced and don't even have to seem under-eyes?"
"Good genetics I guess." He responded making your lip curl in hatred. You could sleep ten hours a night and still have bags from the sleep deficit you had accumulated while getting your undergrad. He breathed out a soft laugh, apparently a little less brash and loud when he had just woken up.
"You should go home and go to sleep, it's late." You said.
"Can't I sleepover?" He asked, widening his eyes in a surprisingly effective puppy-dog look for a man that was well over 6 feet and built with pure muscle.
"You live next door, your room is almost just as close as mine is. Why on earth would you sleepover?"
"Then you sleepover." He said, laughing when he caught the grossed out look on your face as you were all too aware of the things that happened on the surfaces of his apartment.
"I change my sheets regularly." He said.
"No one needs to sleepover, we live next door to each other. Movie night is over, back to your apartment with you." You said, motioning him out the way you imagined sheep were herded though you had little idea of how that was done and clearly you were not good at it considering the 6 foot sheep before you was decidedly un-herded.
"But I slept so well with you." He complained.
You merely motioned to the door again and he sighed, getting up to his feet. He was nearly all the way out when he suddenly turned back.
"Wait, what if I promise to buy you breakfast?" He asked.
"I cannot be persuaded with food to let you sleepover." You said, watching his shoulders slump and he turned back to head out. Giving you the puppy eyes until the moment you shut the door on him in the hopes he would be let back in.
Unfortunately that too became a regular occurrence. On Friday or Saturday, depending on whether you were working that Saturday or not, he'd bring over some form of takeout, two pints of ice cream and want to watch some horrible movie. He'd talk over the entire thing while you both ate, try to steal from your pint of ice cream and then eventually fall asleep with at least one limb on you in some way.
The breakups became more infrequent as did the noises until they stopped altogether. Soon he was showing up on other weekdays too with takeout or hurrying after you into the elevator in the morning just to tell you to cook for two in the evening since he'd be joining you.
You didn't understand why someone like him was spending so much time with you. Annoying as he was due to his impossible physical perfection, lack of understanding of how to be economical due to his being born into the upper-class, and the audacity he showed just constantly inviting himself in, he grew on you. He was admittedly fun to be around.
Things would have continued like that for god knows how long had it not been for the book club the library had forced you to lead. It was to attract more patrons to the library and since none of the other librarians wanted to lead a club taking place on Friday evenings, you were forced into it.
The group that turned up for the first one was the most mismatched group of people you had ever seen. An elderly woman who often told stories of her grandkids that lived in another country where her son had moved his family for a job. Two very giggly teenage girls who seemed as though they were laughing at everyone at first but eventually you realized were just giggling to cover up their own nerves. A middle aged man who seemed like he just did not wish to go home to his family. An accountant that was trying to branch out her reading materials from non-fiction finance related books. And lastly a young man that was new to the country and trying to learn the language through books and tv shows.
The club met weekly and though the first couple meetings were very rough with you struggling to lead and steer the conversation, eventually you all settled into a rhythm. The elderly woman related every topic to her son's family somehow, the teenage girls giggled at all delicate topics, the middle aged man rarely spoke but listened avidly and the accountant was highly opinionated on fictional characters and events. The foreign young man tried his best to contribute to the conversation and you all helped him along while he looked for his words.
Soon you even began looking forward to book club. Gojo wasn't a fan of it, it meant you were always busy on Fridays. He looked forward to unwinding with you after a long work week where no one could really inspire him. His thoughts on your bright eyes, transparent expressions and begrudging honest comments even as he worked with the most beautiful people and obscenely expensive items.
To hear you rave about these other people bothered him in a way he hadn't thought possible. He had never been the jealous type. Not eager to get into a relationship, he didn't mind when the people he slept with dated or fucked others. For some reason though with you even the thought of others getting to look into those pretty eyes or hear those sarcastic little quips you made had his stomach turning and skin crawling.
He hated how emotionally invested you seemed to be in each and every one of them. So sad for the old lady who missed her grandkids, sympathetic towards the teen girls struggling to become comfortable in their own skin. Understanding for the man who seemed to have built a life based on societal expectations that he wasn't built for and in awe of the accountant's unexpected passion. Inspired by the foreign young man's courage to uproot his whole life and move to a new place.
So many emotions he hadn't been able to inspire in you yet you made him feel things he hadn't even thought possible. Hadn't known how much he longed for the comfort and stability you represented. The calm of your easy, ordinary life. How much joy could be found in just regular activities like sharing a meal or watching a movie. The fire of jealousy that could threaten to burn through all of his being and spread to the world around him when you turned your gaze elsewhere.
"Have you told them about me?" He asked suddenly, cutting you off mid-sentence as you talked about how excited you were for them all to read the next book.
"Tell them about you? Why would I tell them about my neighbour?" You asked, confused where that question had come from. Not understanding why the bright blue of Gojo's eyes seemed to turn to steel. All warmth and light draining from them until they reminded you of the chilling endless depths of the ocean.
"I'm not just your neighbour, am I?" Gojo asked, plastering a grin back on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"No, loathe as I am to admit it, I guess we are friends." You said, hoping the teasing would diffuse the sudden tension you felt in the room.
"Friends." He repeated as though testing out the word.
"Doesn't quite seem like enough." He mused after a moment.
Your brows furrowed and you used the palms you had resting down next to your folded legs to shuffle away from him slightly. His eyes flickering down to the movement making you pause. Of course you were just being silly, you had to be misinterpreting where this was heading. People like Gojo didn't think of people like you romantically. He could have models and celebrities. He couldn't possibly be into you in that way.
"Okay what would you call me then?" You asked, hoping fervently this was all one of his stupid jokes and he would say something rude and start laughing.
"Mine. I'd call you mine." Gojo responded, blue eyes taking in the frown on your face and realizing how ignorant you were to what was between the both of you. Sweet, innocent you that didn't even realize how special what the both of you had was. Gojo would have to show you.
"I don't know if things are different in the rich people world but for us regular people you can't own anyone and saying someone is yours usually implies you're in a relationship."
You didn't wait for his response, reaching for your glass, about to use getting a refill as an excuse to walk away but he latched onto your outstretched wrist. Your breath getting caught in a gasp as he pulled you into him.
"I know what it means darling. You belong to me, just as I belong to you. There's no one I've ever felt so comfortable with, no one whose felt like home before. I know you feel it too, no one has ever made you feel this way, have they?" He asked, hand coming up to cup your cheek. Stilling as you flinched away from the touch.
"I think you're mistaking friendship for something else Gojo." You started, words tumbling out as you struggled to make sense of the situation.
"You're rich and famous so people around you are probably constantly putting up a facade and you're not used to regular friendship. You're just confused." You said, sounding like you were trying to convince yourself more than him.
His hand trailed to the back of your head, angling your face up and lips crashing down on yours before you could understand what was happening. Your froze, your brain unable to compute how a friendly movie night had gone from discussing your work week to this.
His soft lips moved gently against yours, trying to coax you into kissing him back. Tongue darting out to lick over your unresponsive lips and a groan escaping him as he finally got a taste of the mouth he'd been fantasizing of for so long. The sound knocking you out of your shocked state and you pushed against his chest. The unexpected move forcing him to break apart but he instantly leaned down again making you call his name sharply.
Blue eyes flicked up from your lips to meet your gaze. Straightening up at the confusion and outrage he saw. No one had ever reacted to him like that before. Normally others came onto him and yet here you were seemingly very offended by him kissing you.
"You can't just kiss someone out of nowhere." You muttered, wiping at your mouth with your sleeve.
"I'll give you a warning next time, I'm going to kiss you again." He said, swooping back towards your lips but you cupped your hand over his mouth. Pretty eyes widening in surprise and your shoulders tensed up as though bracing yourself against an attack.
He frowned for a moment before his entire body melted as he realized what was going on, it was lack of experience. Shy, innocent you probably weren't used to physical affection the way he was. You'd never mentioned an ex, this was all new for you. He had to take it slow to avoid scaring you off. He pressed a kiss to the hand over your mouth, laughing breathily as you pulled away instantly.
"You can't kiss me." You warned, taking in a slow deep breath. Your shoulders slumping as you let it out and you swallowed nervously as though about to share some terrible news. A product of nerves he was sure, to someone inexperienced even a confession could be a frightening thing.
"I'm sorry Gojo, I don't really see you that way. I thought we were friends but if I've misled you in some way then I apologize. I don't really sleep around." You said.
"Oh darling is that what you think this is? I don't just want to sleep with you, I love you. I want to be with you always." Gojo said making your stomach fall.
"I don't understand." You mumbled. He had never given you any indication that he had romantic feelings for you. As far as you knew he wasn't capable of romantic feelings. All he did was sleep around and then kick them to the curb if they got clingy.
"Are you saying all of this to get me to sleep with you?" You asked and he shook his head immediately.
"How many times do I have to say it darling? I'm not just looking to sleep with you. Though I won't lie, I do want to but it's not just that. I want to be in a relationship with you." He clarified and try as you might even you couldn't interpret that to be anything but what he had said.
"Oh." You mumbled.
"Oh." He repeated with a laugh, cupping your face in his hands and leaning in as though about to kiss you again but you held your hand up between you again. Pulling back out of his hold making his smile drop a bit.
"Too fast?" He asked and you shook your head unthinkingly before nodding it, trying to find the right words so you wouldn't come across as cruel. You hadn't been lying, Gojo had become a friend to you. One whose feelings you didn't want to hurt.
"Gojo I've never really seen you that way and I'm not looking for a relationship so please don't take this the wrong way but I can't return your feelings. I'm so sorry." You said softly, watching as his smile dropped away entirely. Something unreadable in those eyes when you mustered up the courage to look into them, dropping your gaze again immediately.
"I get it, that's okay. We can be friends if that's all you can give for now. Once you're ready we can try for more." He said and though that hadn't really been what you meant you really didn't have the heart to shoot him down again.
"Sh-should I get out the ice cream now?" You asked, eager to change the topic and pretend that whole conversation had never happened.
"Sure." He answered, lips tipping up into a smile though his eyes still had that indecipherable look to them that filled you with the odd urge to get away.
The rest of the night was filled with an odd tension that had your chest filling with relief when Gojo finally bid you goodnight, as guilty as that made you feel. You worried that things between the two of you would never be the same and prepared yourself for the awkwardness that was sure to follow.
It was as though all he needed was to sleep off that conversation. From the next day everything returned back to normal between the both of you as though the confession and kiss had never happened. Though you sometimes felt like you'd see a flash of something akin to hunger in his eyes when he looked at you but he'd blink and it would be gone making you think you were only imagining things.
You couldn't help the way you got a little self conscious now when he rested his head on your lap or strung his arm over your waist while laying sprawled on your couch during a movie night. Before you hadn't thought much of it but refused to say anything because that would mean bringing up that whole conversation you wanted to leave buried in the past. It was just Gojo being Gojo you tried to convince yourself.
As you would soon learn you shouldn't have allowed him continued access to you after learning of his true feelings. Had you known then you would have been firmer in your rejection, leaving no false hope that would ultimately be your ruin.
The book club and its members became an engrained part of your routine. Adding more people to your isolated little world. Meetings that you looked forward to weekly as you became even more familiar with each of the members and you all opened up to one another. Sharing things about your lives and even sometimes planning to grab a bite after the book club meeting. You'd take a late lunch those days and glad to see the community initiative a success, your boss let you.
When the young man started turning up at the library outside of book club to borrow books, you were all too willing to recommend similar books to his favourites from the meetings. Finding some upon his request that would help him improve his language skills as well. He'd come up to you periodically to ask the pronunciation or meaning of words he didn't know which in the age of the internet others might have considered a hint but not you.
It caught you off guard when he asked you out to coffee, alone without the rest of the book club as he'd clarified. There was something about him that you had always found charming and so you agreed.
He asked you to meet at some fancy little coffee shop just a couple streets down from the library you'd never been to before. Looking so pleased when you showed up that you couldn't help but return his smile. Setting your first date nerves at ease by talking about the club's book of the week and then sounding genuinely interested as he asked you questions about your life, boring as it was.
When you heard your name called you turned around with a smile still on your lips from the lingering laughter at an off-handed comment your date had made at your boss' expense but it fell immediately as your eyes connected with a blue pair alight with fury. Flinching back as he stormed over to you, eyes flickering from you to where your date had rested his hand on top of yours. You pulled yours back like you had been burned. Glancing over at the gorgeous young woman who stood next to him, clearly another model who was busy scrolling on her phone and didn't pay the three of you any mind.
"What are you doing here darling?" Gojo asked and you looked at your date quickly who was looking very confusedly between Gojo and you.
"How do you two know each other?" Your date asked.
"He's my neighbour." You clarified quickly, knowing he had probably misunderstood the term of endearment Gojo liked to throw around with you.
"I think we're much more than that, aren't we darling?" Gojo asked, eyes daring you to contradict him.
"W-we're also friends." You explained.
"Now back to my question, what are you crazy kids doing here?"
"We are on - uh how do you say" Your date started, struggling to find the word and for the first time you made no attempt to help him.
"Date!" He exclaimed suddenly and you felt like your stomach had fallen out as you risked a glance up at Gojo to see the polite smile had fallen and he looked positively livid. Blue eyes blazing with outrage turned to you accusingly, jaw clenched so tightly it looked painful and veins beneath his flawless pale skin standing out prominently.
"How lovely, ready to date now are you?" Gojo asked and you shook your head instantly.
"I hate to be rude but you'll have to excuse us. Our apartment building is on fire so my neighbour here and I have to go." Gojo said, stooping down and snatching your wrist. Pulling you up to your feet and dropping the strap of your bag onto your shoulder. Completely ignoring the confused outbursts of both your date and the model that had accompanied him as he dragged you out of the cafe.
"I'm so sorry, I'll see you on Friday." You called out to your date not wanting to make a scene here. Getting yanked forward again and nearly tripping but managing to straighten and catch yourself.
Gojo herded you past the door, leading you to his sleek back car parked right outside the cafe and pushing you down into it the moment he got the door open.
"Gojo you had no right-" You started but were cut off as he swooped down so you were both face to face.
"Don't you say even a single fucking word right now or I may just go back in there and break every finger on that fucker's hand for touching what's mine."
"What?" You asked taken aback by the sudden aggression.
"I don't think I ever mentioned this but I really fucking hate being lied to and I've got a bit of a temper problem so it's in your best interest to let me drive off or your date is going to be the one suffering my wrath."
You shut your mouth instantly, something about his expression telling you that he wasn't bluffing and you didn't want your poor date to be hurt because of you. He finally slammed the door shut making you jump and rounded to the other side, getting in and reaching for you. You couldn't help the way you flinched back making him let out a slow exhale through his nose as he grabbed your seatbelt and clicked it into the buckle.
"I may have a temper but I'd never hurt you." He said solemnly, turning his gaze forward as he pulled out into the street, narrowly avoiding crashing into a car in that lane but you didn't dare say a word. The car filled with a suffocating tension for the short drive to your building.
The moment he parked you got out, walking ahead and hearing him follow you closely. Incredibly grateful for a young mother who got into the same elevator as the both of you with her two children so you weren't alone. Making up your mind then that you didn't want to discuss any of this with him right now.
His anger and threat had frightened you and you were in no rush to be alone with him while he was like this, it was probably best to let him cool off first. He was way out of left field for what he had done but you didn't think you'd be able to tell him that right now.
When you got off on your floor you walked to your apartment. Subtly finding your key in your bag, you turned to face him.
"Gojo I think you should take some time to cool off, we'll talk about this later." You said, turning back to unlock your door but before you could even put your key into the lock you were being turned back and lifted.
He held you up over his shoulder like you were a sack of potatoes as he passed your door to his own. Completely ignoring your cries for him to put you down as he unlocked his door and slammed it shut with a kick as he walked in. Depositing you down onto an armchair and instantly caging you in by placing a hand on either side.
"Now why don't you start by telling me why you were on a date with that fucker when you told me you weren't ready for a relationship."
"I really don't think I owe you anything after the way you've acted." You said, tugging down your clothing so it was all in place after being tossed about like an object.
"I held back, I didn't even say anything to that bastard for you. I went back to being your friend because you said you weren't ready for more and now I catch you out on a date with some asshole. It's my fault for trying to be so patient and understanding. I should have made it clear that you belong to me from the start to avoid all this confusion."
"I don't belong to anyone. I was trying to turn you down kindly, it's not my fault you misunderstood. No means no regardless of the reasoning someone provides. I don't see you that way and frankly after this I don't even see you as a friend." You stated firmly, breathing a little accelerated from how angry you were at the audacity he had shown. Forcefully taking you from your date and manhandling you, telling you that you belonged to him.
"See darling, now that's where you're mistaken." He said, lips twisting into a cruel smile, lifting his hand to trail his fingers gently along your bottom lip. Catching your jaw in his grasp as you angrily tried to turn your head away from his touch and leaning in until his nose nearly touched yours. Breath wafting over your lips as he greedily inhaled the air you exhaled.
"You are mine. If I ever see another man laying a hand on what is mine I will break every bone in his hand as you watch. It's a good thing you don't see me as a friend anymore, since you're ready to date I should be much more than that."
"You're nothing to me." You snarled, pushing at his touch but he caught your hand in his.
"Is this the hand he touched?" Gojo asked, wrapping his own around your hand as though trying to erase the evidence of anyone else's touch from your skin.
Your hand trembled in his, only now noticing how much freakishly larger his was compared to your own. The threats of breaking hands all too fresh for you to be comfortable with him holding yours.
"Where else has that fucker touched you?" Gojo asked.
"Get off of me before I scream." You threatened, voice wavering slightly even as you tried to keep it steady.
"Darling I think you know it's not uncommon for anyone to hear screams coming from this apartment, and other than you no one's ever been bothered by it so go ahead, scream for me." He said making you gulp.
"HELP." You screamed out, his hand coming up to trail across your lips again as he shushed you.
"See? No one's coming. Most of these apartments are soundproofed except that one wall adjoining our two apartments which they seem to have missed. No one can hear you." He said and for the first time you felt truly afraid of him. Realizing that you were trapped in his apartment with him while he was so much faster and larger than you.
"Tell me darling, did you let him kiss you?" He asked, brushing his thumb back and forth over your bottom lip forcing your lips to part.
"Gojo get off of me, you're taking this too far." You warned.
"I will if you answer my question."
"No." You mumbled honestly and he breathed out a sigh of relief, true to his word backing up and getting up on his feet but still standing over you.
"Good, you can't go letting other guys touch you when you're mine. I'll let what happened today go as a misunderstanding because I hadn't spelled things out for you and you can be so oblivious, but if I ever catch him or any other guy lurking near you again, I will kill them."
You stared up at him with wide eyes, feeling truly afraid of the man you'd considered a friend for the first time in your life. Heart pounding in your chest as your eyes darted over his shoulder to the door that seemed all too far away with his giant figure looming over you.
"Tell me you understand darling." He instructed and you gave a quick nod of your head.
The rage melted away from his face and all tenseness seemed to drain out of his body. He leaned down, pecking your lips quickly. Smiling as he pulled away.
"Should I make us something or should we order in?" He asked.
"I'm not hungry, I should go." You said, pushing up from the armchair but pinned in place when he narrowed those otherworldly blue eyes down at you.
"You're not trying to run away, are you? I really do want to believe you meant what you said about being mine but if you leave like this I'll have no choice but to assume it was just to get away."
"No I-I just have some stuff to do around the house." You said.
"Well surely you can spare some time to eat lunch."
"I already ate." You said, regretting the words the moment they were out of your mouth when you saw his jaw clench and nostrils flare.
"Yeah? How long exactly was this date of yours?" He asked, leaning down and resting his hand on the arm of your chair again.
"I had a sandwich before I went out." You said quickly.
It was the truth, the coffee date was at lunch time so you'd had a quick bite beforehand. Truthfully though it was half a sandwich leftover from your lunch the day before but Gojo didn't need to know that. After all that had happened your appetite was gone anyway.
"Oh you do make good sandwiches." He said with a little laugh of relief and you wondered how you had spent all that time with him and not noticed that he was absolutely insane.
"S-sorry I didn't think we would be meeting today or I would have made you one too." You said, eager to pretend everything was normal if that increased your chances at getting out of here.
"Always so sweet." He muttered, leaning down and pressing another kiss to your lips.
"What a lucky guy I am." He said softly, trailing the back of his hand reverently along your jaw. Noticing the way your breath hitched and allowing himself to believe it was just you being shy.
"Fuck I'm sorry, I know you're new to this and I need to take it slow but you are so fucking tempting. I could just eat you up." He said, hands squeezing at your waist making you let out an unwilling squeal.
"Gojo I really do-"You started but were cutoff by him.
"It's Satoru to you darling, we're dating now. You should call me by my first name." He said and you stared at him blankly a moment before giving a short nod.
"Right, well I should go." You tried again.
"Not until I hear you say my name."
"Satoru I need to go." You said, cutting yourself short when he groaned and dropped his head down onto your shoulder.
"My name sounds so good coming from you. Call me Toru." He demanded, lifting his head to see the affronted look on your face at him going back on his word so easily.
"Come on, just say it once and then I promise you can go."
"Toru." You said hesitantly and he dropped his head down so you couldn't see his face.
"Fuck." He muttered quietly and it was all the warning you got before he was pouncing on you. One hand wrapping around the back of your neck and other on your waist as he pulled you up into him. Lips crashing down onto yours and taking your gasp of surprise as an opportunity to drive his tongue into your mouth. Kissing you fiercely with his hands grabbing and groping at any soft flesh within reach as he pulled you in closer.
Your hands flailed a moment before you got your wits together and started pushing at his broad shoulders, protests muffled by his mouth. He pulled back only giving you enough time to drag in a much needed breath before he was on you again. The new angle allowing him to kiss you much deeper, a deep moan rumbling up from his chest at the taste and feel of you under him. Crowding you up on that armchair until you had nowhere to go by resting his knee down on the seat between your legs.
"Gojo!" You screamed when he pulled back just a fraction again.
Slamming your hands against his chest and he paused, staring down at you as both of you panted. Your lips glistening with your combined saliva from the messy kiss you had just shared.
He didn't think he had ever wanted anything more than he wanted you in that moment. He physically ached for you, painfully hard cock that was throbbing in need pressing up against the zip of his pants. Hands yearning to feel all your soft, pliant flesh beneath his palms and mouth salivating to taste every inch of you.
"You said you would take it slow, you promised to let me leave." You said while still panting for air. For a moment there you had really felt like he was going to devour you.
No one had ever kissed you like that before. His passion was all consuming and frightening. You never wanted to experience something like that again.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He said, hands flexing against the head of the armchair as he fought to regain control and force himself away from you. It took every ounce of will power he possessed and the mental reminder that you deserved for things to be taken slow with you. To be courted and wooed before he would finally get to have you. A little patience and then he would have you for life because he was never letting you go.
The moment he eased back you flew up to your feet. Grabbing your bag and holding it protectively against your chest as though that would really act as some sort of deterrent if he came onto you again. Your wrist was caught as you moved past him and you glanced back with big frightened eyes making his grasp soften.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" He asked and you forced yourself to nod. Anything to be let out of that apartment in that moment.
"Okay." He said and you gave a little tug at your wrist when he didn't let you go.
"God, I don't want to let you go but I did promise. Go now before I lose the willpower to let you leave this apartment." He said and you pulled your wrist forcefully out of his loose hold, scampering for the door.
Breaking his heart a little when you didn't even look back once as you slammed the door shut behind you but what did those little things matter when you were finally his. No last parting looks were necessary since you were going to be together forever now. It was only a matter of time before he would bring up living together and then he'd never have to let you go back to your apartment.
The moment you got back to your apartment you locked the door. Doing up the chain lock too though despite it you still felt hunted. You had this unshakable feeling that he was going to come after you and you needed to put as much obstacles in his path as you could. Like he would snatch you up even while you were behind the locked door of your apartment. The man you had considered a friend now just a monster out to get you.
The tears came then as you sank down against your door. A lump forming in your throat and eyes burning as you swiped the back of your hand over your mouth. Trying to erase his touch.
You weren't under any delusions that there was some easy way out of this. No one in their right mind would believe someone like Gojo Satoru had forced himself on you, dragged you to his apartment unwillingly and kept you there until you agreed to be his partner. There was no proof to go to the police with.
It wasn't necessarily that you wanted him punished, it was more that you wanted nothing to do with him. Cowardly as it was, all you wanted was to never have to see him again, to be free of him. The monster you had unknowingly invited in.
You rested your head in your hands as you let the tears escape. Biting into your sleeve to muffle your sobs so he wouldn't hear through that dreaded adjoining wall and come to investigate.
When your chest started to feel just the tiniest bit lighter, you wiped your tears and rose to your feet. There was no use in sitting there crying. You'd never be rid of him if you didn't do something. You had to move away. Luckily, you were only renting the apartment so all you would lose was the security deposit for not giving enough notice.
You were so desperate you wouldn't even be picky. First apartment you found within your budget you'd sign the agreement. It shouldn't take longer than a week or two and then you'd never have to see him again. Never have those unnerving blue eyes on you or feel those giant hands that pinned you so easily.
Sleep evaded you and instead you used the time to look into apartments. There was a branch of your library located on the other side of the city, but that felt too obvious. You would have to quit and survive for a bit on your meager savings until you found another job.
You'd call in sick for your next shift and go see those apartments, get a storage room to start slowly moving out your stuff without Gojo noticing. Despite how drastic it was, all of that was simple enough but the idea of having to put up an act in front of Gojo for the meantime was what scared you. If you wanted your plan to work, you would have to keep him from suspecting you.
Those two weeks passed with extreme difficulty. It felt like all your hair would fall out from the stress of it all. Moving your entire life in a matter of weeks was not easy but pretending you were willing to be with Gojo was the hardest part. Forcing yourself not to flinch when he reached for you, to not look away from the obsession you now saw gleaming in the depths of his eyes. To nod and listen and respond at appropriate intervals even when your mind was miles away.
It was a lucky thing that he was suddenly so busy with work. Unable to spend nearly as much time as he would have liked with you. If you were forced to be around him constantly then surely you would have given yourself away.
Gojo had never been happier. It was like he had merely been surviving before you came into his life and showed him what true contentedness and meaning were. Filled his life with purpose and joy. He didn't need to find momentary entertainment in beautiful faces or disappointing his dad anymore. Now that he had you, he would never want for anything else again.
He was reminded every time he saw you head for work though that he wasn't the only one who noticed how lovely and incredible you were. The thought of that bastard speaking to you again filled him with unbridled rage but he knew you loved your job at the library so he couldn't ask you to quit. Getting the man's study permit cancelled was easy enough though when he used his dad's contacts.
Hearing he was active in their circles again had his dad reaching out. This time he allowed the man to talk him into coming to work for him with one little condition that his father was all too willing to oblige if it meant the return of his heir. Everything Gojo did was for you and to be with you, you'd come to realize it soon enough.
Working for his dad and learning the ropes of taking over the business was busy work and it left him little time to spend with you. He used any chance he got to be with his beloved. Getting to hold you and talk to you, look into those pretty eyes and kiss those sweet lips was pure bliss. Even if resisting the temptation to do more was akin to torture, he'd wait for his darling.
He couldn't even have anticipated how sneaky you would be. How you could lie to his face for weeks. Disappear without a word as though you hadn't promised you were his. Leave him knocking on the door of an empty apartment like a fool.
He'd broken down the door when he tried calling you and your number was unavailable. Heart sinking when the wood gave to his strength and the apartment that had come to feel more like home than any place he'd ever lived in was just reduced to bare walls with no trace of you left.
He'd ignored the stricken looks of the other people who lived on your floor as he raced for the elevator. The world just a blur as he ran like a madman through the streets towards your library. Only to be told by a confused looking librarian that you didn't work there anymore.
The middle-aged woman's eyes widening as he began to laugh in the middle of the silent library. Laughing so hard he doubled over and nearly choked. Wiping tears from manic blue eyes as he straightened with a smile that was anything but amused before driving a fist straight through the front desk.
The woman ran to the back then and the kids recording him nervously lowered their phones. Those videos would be forcefully deleted by men people like his father kept around just for damage control. The library generously reimbursed to hand over the camera feed from that afternoon and the librarian warned to keep her mouth shut unless she wanted to be fired.
Gojo couldn't believe you would betray him like that. All he had ever done was love and adore you. All he had asked for in return for that blind adoration and devotion was for you to be his. He would lay the world at your feet as long as you simply returned home to him every night.
He hadn't even pressured you to love him, knowing you were oblivious and new to all of this so it would take you time to figure out your feelings. It would all be so much sweeter if you arrived at that conclusion yourself and confessed to him of your own volition. But you had taken all that trust and patience and thrown it in his face.
He felt like he couldn't breathe. Like the very air had turned to poison without you. He needed you back. It didn't matter that you had betrayed him, turned your back on him. Life wasn't just meaningless without you, it was unbearable.
He would make you realize you loved him, make you loyal to him and tie you irreversibly to himself as his very being was tied to you. He just needed to find you.
It wasn't hard but every moment without you felt like an agonizing eternity. He didn't eat, didn't sleep until he had figured out where you had gone. It took only a matter of days but in the span of those few days Gojo became unrecognizable. As though the madness within couldn't be contained any longer and had begun to show itself.
For men like him, it wasn't difficult to track someone down. He scoured the city while private investigators he had hired followed the trail left behind by your digital footprint.
He watched in his car, heart swelling with relief and air feeling like it entered his lungs for the first time in days as he watched you unlock the bookstore where you'd gotten a job. The large glass windows allowing him to see all the smiles you carelessly bestowed on all those who came in the shop but had snatched from him. Fingernails tearing into the skin of his palms until they were bloody as he clenched his fists to keep himself grounded and not barge into the store in broad daylight and carry you off.
He waited all day until you flipped that open sign to closed and locked the door. Moving around inside as you put the bookstore back into order for the next day before grabbing your coat and bag. Night had fallen by then and as you moved to the door he saw his chance.
You twisted the key until you heard the mechanism of the lock twist into place. A faint whisper of your name making you turn thinking it was the owner coming to check in on the store. The sight that awaited you however was all your nightmares for the past couple weeks come to life.
Blue eyes ablaze with mania and lips forming your name were all you saw before you felt a prick at the side of your neck and everything went out of focus. Large hands greedily clutching your slumping body and the nauseous feeling of the ground being swiped out from under you the last thing you felt before it all went dark.
The sound of crashing waves was the first thing you became aware of. The smell of the ocean in the air as your eyes opened blearily to a completely unfamiliar room. Your brain jolted itself to full consciousness as the unfamiliarity of your surroundings registered. The next thing you noticed was the cold weight of something around your ankle.
You glanced down and your heart skipped a beat as you saw the shackle gleaming in the light let in by the large windows clasped above your foot. The long chain connected to it rattled as you darted up and tried tugging at the metal even as your head throbbed and vision swam making you see double of everything.
"Are you finally awake darling?â The voice you had hoped youâd never hear again called from the door.
You glanced up to see his silhouette in the shadows just beyond the doorway to the room you were in. Gleaming blue eyes fixed on you through the darkness.
Your heart skipped a beat in your chest and you wanted so badly for this all to be a nightmare but were frozen, unable to so much as pinch yourself to figure out if this horrific sight was a reality. He stepped forward into the light let in by the giant windows, steps steadily decreasing the distance between you both but even as the urge to flee set alight your nerves you remained immobile.
The feeling of his large warm fingers beneath your chin as he tilted your head up finally knocked you out of your trance. You jerked away from him violently, scampering across the large bed but your ankle was caught and you were tugged back towards him. His hand curling around your leg as definitively as the shackle that bound you there just below it.
âNow where do you think youâre going?â He asked.
Other hand grabbing onto the back of your neck and forcing your head back to make you look at him. Caught firmly in his grasp. Those pretty eyes on him as he had longed for them to be and they'd never lay on another again.
Your heart hammered in your chest as you waited for him to fill the terse silence interrupted only by the crashing of the waves outside. His eyes darting around every inch of your face like he wanted to commit it all to memory.
Only he knew how he had survived those days without you, not knowing where you were or even if he would ever see you again. But now he had ensured that would never happen again.
âG-Gojo where are we?â You asked when he refused to speak first, too preoccupied looking his fill of you.
âWeâre home darling.â He answered simply, brushing your hair out of your face. Fingers leaving trails of heat across your skin.
âC-can you please get this off me? It hurts.â You said glancing down at the metal cuff.
âI doubt it hurts. I made sure it was a little loose so it wouldnât press into your skin. Look, I can even get my fingers in.â He said, tucking his fingers into the narrow gap between the unforgiving metal and your soft skin, making it tighten and you let out a hiss as it dug in painfully.
âOh did that hurt?â He asked, carefully pulling out his fingers and you nodded. Gasping when he suddenly grabbed you by the shoulders and hauled you in close so you were face to face.
âCan you imagine how much it hurt me when I realized what you had done?â He asked, voice raising despite telling himself he was going to keep his cool. You flinched back but his firm hold on you didnât let you get far.
âCan you imagine how I felt when I woke one morning to see your apartment was empty and you were gone?â
Your heart pounded in your chest as you prayed fervently, despite knowing now it wasnât, that this would all be a dream. Youâd wake up any minute now to your new apartment with the boxes still piled high in the corner waiting to be unpacked. Reach for the water you kept on your bedside drawer before realizing in this apartment the drawer was on the other side of the bed.
âCan you imagine the pain of knowing the only one youâve ever loved, the one you put above all else lied to you and betrayed you? Pretended to be yours when theyâd been scheming to leave you all along?â
The fury in his eyes dimmed slightly as they filled with tears, his grip slackening on your shoulders letting you slump back down on the bed.
"I-I was scared Gojo." You said.
"Scared of what?" He bit out, swiping angrily at the tears in his eyes with the back of his hand making the pale skin redden. For a moment your fear was forgotten and all you could see was your friend in pain but those blue eyes flashed when he saw the tender look in your eyes and the moment was gone before it even fully registered.
"Of you, of this." You admitted, your own eyes stinging with unshed tears as all the fight seemed to drain out of you realizing the hopelessness of your situation. All that planning and pretending and look where you had still ended up. People like you just couldn't go up against people like him.
"Scared of someone who loves you more than anything in the world?" He asked incredulously, catching your wrists in his grasp as you tried to drop your face into your hands.
"This isn't love, it's madness Gojo. Love isn't forceful or violent like this." You sobbed, fighting to pull your wrists out of his hold so you wouldn't have to look at him again. He gathered your wrists in one of his hands, forcing your arms behind your back so you couldn't push him away.
"How can you say that? How can you say I don't love you?" He asked.
"Let go of me." You spat, trying with all your might to get out of his hold but your strength was no match for his.
"I'll show you how much I love you. I'll make you realize you love me too, I know you do." He cupped your face within his hand so you couldn't look away from him. Ignoring your renewed struggling and cries as you were forced to look into those eyes and the madness that glinted within them.
"We have all the time in the world here darling. It's just you and me here on this island. No one to come between our love and nowhere for you to run."
TW: Dub/Con -> Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Figure Skating AU, Forced Deep-Throating, Implied Kidnapping, Social Isolation, and Unbalanced Power Dynamics. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
Satoru was going to kill you.
You knew, rationally, that this wasn't your fault. He was a monster. He locked you in his penthouses and luxury rentals, cut off your access to the friends and family that might take you away from him, promised so sweetly that if you ever left his side, he would make sure the life you led without him wasn't worth living at all. The least you could do was push him away every now and then, even if all your resistance amounted to was refusing to kiss him before he left for another world championship, another Grand Prix, another opportunity to make everyone in the world worship the name Gojo Satoru. For luck, he'd said. And then, when you'd only cried and cringed away from him, Fine. You can kiss the medal after I win.
Only, he hadn't won.
He'd tripped.
It was his signature combination, too. The first jump had been alright, if shaky, but the second--
It was bad. On the ice, against the wall, commentators too shocked to speak bad.
And he was going to kill you for it.
It was all you could do to pace from one side of the living room to the other as you waited for him to get home. You'd tried to mitigate the damage - forcing yourself into the set of lingerie he'd packed for his victory lap and dimming the villa's lighting into something more romantic, something more forgiving. Still, your heart was beating too loudly for you to hear the front door open, to catch Satoru's heavy footsteps as he made his way to you. Your only warning was a deep breath as the loitered in the living room's doorway, a soft call of your name. Immediately, you swallowed your nerves down and ran to him.
Of course, Satoru welcomed you with open arms. His heavy coat crinkled as you through yourself against him, the beads and rhinestones of his costume somehow biting into you through the thick fabric. He was cold to the touch, but you'd come to expect that. He lived on the ice. The rest of the world, including you, was only a way to pass the time.
"Princess," he murmured, kissing the top of your head. He caught the hem of your babydoll, toying with the lace. "All this for me?"
You flashed a plastered-on smile up at him. "I thought you might need a little cheering-up."
"And why's that?"
Your heart clenched. "I-- I know you had a hard night," you managed, before the lapse was too noticeable. "I saw your skate."
He hummed, fishing something out of his pocket. "Not too bad. Look at this," he said, holding up his medal by the strap. The circle of polished, gleaming bronze felt like an accusation. Evidence of your wrong-doing. "Something new for the trophy case. I was getting tired of gold, anyway."
Right. Because Satoru had never gotten anything less than gold. Ever.
You felt like you were going to vomit.
Thankfully, he was already pulling away from you. Dropping the medal some athletes worked their entire lives to see thoughtlessly to the ground, he took your hand and tugged you toward the sofa. "C'mon. There's something I wanna show you."
Satoru traveled. A lot. He had high-end preferences, and after you became his favorite carry on, another requirement was added to his long list of necessities - the largest possible flat-screen T.V. Sometimes, he'd tow you to his competitions and make you cheer from the side of the rink, but he normally didn't want you getting so close to so many people. Somewhere to watch live, but at a distance, was more reliable. More within his control.
He fell onto the center of the couch. You moved to sit next to him, but he shook his head, pointing towards the ground. You grimaced, but you reminded yourself that things could be worse. A blowjob was leagues better than, you didn't know, being flayed alive with the blade of his skates or something.
You settled onto your knees at his feet. The steps were mechanical and familiar. Wrestle with the drawstring of his pants. Free his cock, already half-hard and leaking into your palm. You brought your lips to the flushed tip, lapping over it in short, quick swipes while your right hand worked his shaft. Satoru groaned, running his fingers through your hair. His free hand found the remote, the bulk of his attention still lazily focused on the flat-screen.
You tried to turn your brain off as you took him into your mouth. Mentally, you were somewhere else. The thing that felt the weight of Satoru's head on its tongue, the thing bobbing gently on a monster's cock - that wasn't you. Except, it was hard to disassociate when you could see color flashing in the corner of your eye, hear the ostentatious music and pretentious commentary of Satoru's chosen passion. His performance. He was watching his performance.
Whatever. That didn't matter. You sunk as low as you could, but admittedly, the depth wasn't very impressive. Your motivation was low and Satoru was big. You only had half of him in your mouth by the time his tip hit the back of your throat, and already, your jaw ached with the strain of it.
Normally, this was when you would find a rhythm, a pattern to fall into. Satoru would purr, laugh, praise you. Eventually, he'd cum and you'd slink away to find something acidic enough to wash the taste out of your mouth. Messy, but fast. That was what you'd gotten used to. That was your new normal.
But, Satoru wasn't feeling like himself, tonight. That was he'd fallen.
That was why he was doing this to you.
His cock twitched on your tongue as he pressed his palm down on the back of your head. You gagged around him, your throat struggling to accommodate an inch of his length, then two. You beat your fist against his thigh, trying to warn him, but Satoru's attention was elsewhere.
"There it is," he said, a minute or so into his routine. In the background, you heard a body slam against ice, commentators wincing in second-hand embarrassment. Satoru rewound, then let it play again. "Fuck, it looks so much worse from this angle. It hurt, y'know. Figure skating's pretty dangerous. I could've broken a leg. I could've broken my neck."
A mix of spit and arousal welled at the corner of your lips, dripping over your chin, your chest. Satoru only forced himself deeper. You felt your bottom lip split and start to bleed.
"I wasn't worried about that, though. To be honest, it's kind of hard to think about anything out there. You're listening for your cues, keeping track of where you are in the rink, smiling at the judges..." He let out a breathy laugh which trailed into an airy moan. His veins were like tracks of molten lava against your tongue, your throat. All raw heat with no room to flinch back. "But that's the weird part. Right..." He paused in the middle of a jump. "...here. I was doing fine, and then, I had this thought."
His nails bit into your scalp. Your nose pressed into his lower stomach.
You couldn't breathe.
"She doesn't love me." Another laugh, this one crueler than the first. "I don't know. It was just that, then I was on the ground. She doesn't love me, then I lost."
He shifted underneath you, leaning back. Your vision blurred, then began to darken around the edges.
"It's not true, obviously, but I'd love to hear you say it. Can you do that for me, princess? Can you tell me how much you love me?"
You couldn't. You couldn't, but you tried - mouthing the words around his length. The sound you made was intelligible, nothing more than whines and wordless vocalizations, but Satoru didn't seem to mind. His hand went stiff against the back of your head. He hunched over you, and then, something thick and choking and hot enough to blister was flooding down your throat. Satoru held you there for a second, then another before pulling back and letting his cum splatter over your face, your neck, your chest. If you'd been braver, you might've lunged at him, tried to do what his fall couldn't. If you'd had any strength left at all, you might've screamed.
But, you didn't. You collapsed against him, gasping for air. Satoru only cooed, combing the hair out of your face. Trying to get a clear of the misery he'd caused. "My pretty girl," he sighed. He leaned down, pulling your crumpled body into his lap.
His lips came to rest against the top of your head. You could feel the sharp edges of his smile, the low warmth of his breath as went on.
Synopsis:You could almost admire how delicate he made his voice. If you were anyone else, you may have given in, completely and utterly lulled by his sweet words. But you know Suguru. You can hear the thrum of bloodlust and violence that simmers between his soft words. Itâs why you remain pliant in his grasp.
(Warnings: yandere, dark content, manipulation, forced relationships, dubcon/noncon, younger man/older woman, suguru is early 20s, mc is mid/late twenties)
You help Suguru in the mornings.Â
Youâre less of an aide and more of a charm he likes to keep around. His morning routine is a regimen rather than anything else. Very rarely do you see him stray from it. You sit beside him as he lounges in the bath. He chooses soaps that bubble up in the water, filling the air with delicate scents that cling to his skin hours later. After you watch him dress in his robes, fully transforming into the priest his followers praise. His form slips underneath layers of traditional clothing. It makes him look older, and you often wonder if thatâs the point.Â
After he settles, you fix his hair.
The bristles are soft to the touch, but youâre gentle as you comb over his strands. You delicately trace over his scalp, separating his hair into different sections as you go. Youâre always so careful with his hair, even when you know he can handle worseâhe has handled worse. You see the evidence at night when his face is settled into the crook of your neck, his scar-littered body ragged with shaky breaths. You know he wonât flinch or even grimace if you were to yank on his scalp. Still, you keep your touch light, because itâs the only part of him thatâs still soft.Â
You think he appreciates that, maybe thatâs why he sits in front of you, head tilted in a way that makes it easier for you. He keeps his eyes closed, allowing you to work without his piercing gaze sifting through your skin. Heâs often so still you mightâve thought he was dead if not for the shallow rise and fall of his chest.Â
You like this part of the morning. Thereâs no monotone chants of his followers, no drones of sermons. The twins arenât awake yet, much preferring to sleep until the sun is higher in the sky.
 You use this time to let your brain wander, and your gaze drifts outside the window. Patches of flowers swayed just outside, dancing to the rhythm of the wind.Â
âYouâve been out there a lot, recently.âÂ
Your eyes travel back to Suguru. His face is tilted upwards. His eyes are open. Sharp purple.Â
âThe girls like the garden.â You admit, continuing with his hair. âI make sure they donât pick any flowers. They like to chase around the butterflies.âÂ
âThey can take the flowers,â Suguru tells you. âI can always have more planted.âÂ
âTheyâre too pretty to be plucked.â You respond, bunching his hair up in that signature bun. âBesides, the butterflies might not return if they do.âÂ
He seems satisfied with your answer and leaves it at that. A short while later, youâve finished with his hair. Not a strand out of place, just as he likes it. You expect him to rise from his chair and stride outside the bedroom with you behind him as always.Â
Instead, thereâs a delicate grip on your wrist. Youâre gently guided into his lap. You reluctantly settle into his hold. His face buries into your neck. You can smell the scented oils you applied to his hair. Scarred fingers dance around the edge of your clothes, grazing at the skin just underneath.Â
You frown. âSuguru.âÂ
He hums, pulling down the elastic that covers your skin.Â
âWeâwe still need toââ Your breath hitches when he sinks his teeth into your neck, licking at the flesh.Â
âThe sermonââ The rest of your words disappear into a gasp when a single finger works itself into your pussy.Â
Youâre still sore from last night, but thatâs never stopped him. Heâs more than content to drive his finger deeper into your cunt as you writhe on his lap. His thumb rolls your clit like his own personal toy.Â
âIt can wait.â He hushes your protests. âNothing in this temple moves without me anyway.âÂ
His words are the only truth you know. Nothing breathes without Suguruâs explicit acknowledgement. Despite his soft demeanor and gentle tones, the thing he craves most of all is control.Â
âYes, but the girlsââÂ
He interrupts your ramblings with his lips. Gentle, but all-encompassing. He curls his fingers into you, touching a spongy spot at just the right angle. You spill moan after moan into his mouth.Â
âRelax, dear,â he coos when he pulls away.Â
You shut your eyes, collapsing into his chest as he works. Itâs so quiet you can hear the slick sounds of your hole creaming around his fingers. Your body is so quick to accept him these days, as opposed to the fight you used to put up, even when you accepted your new life with Geto Suguru. You canât tell if you should feel relieved or pathetic.Â
âLet me take care of whatâs mine just once more.âÂ
As you come around his fingers, you know it wonât be the last time.Â
â
Nanako and Mimiko are happier in the temple.Â
In the village, even before your exile, their eyes were always so dull. You thought it had more to do with their fatherâthe man who abandoned you three long before they were even born. They never acted like proper children. They never played, barely even laughed.Â
And then, their powers awakened.Â
Curse technique, Suguru later told you.Â
âWeâre never gonna find her.â Nanako pouts.Â
You squeeze your daughterâs tiny hand in reassurance. Nanako was always the more impatient of your two childrenâconstantly hoping from one emotion to the next. Even now, as the two of you poke around the temple grounds, searching for her sister, she is quick to state her thoughts as though they were certain.Â
âWeâve barely looked.â You smile. âLetâs try a couple more minutes before we give up.âÂ
She frowns, but she trails behind you regardless, continuing the search.Â
âI just donât get why you always find me first.â She mumbles.Â
âYou were giggling so loudly, I could hear you across the courtyard.â You affectionately reach out to pinch her cheek. âYou think I donât have ears?âÂ
She looks away as her ears turn red.Â
You spot a brown blob huddled in a corner. Immediately, you hush your daughterâs chattering, silently pointing out her sister.Â
Nanako grins. You let her go, watching as she slowly advances on her sister.Â
âFound you!âÂ
Mimiko nearly jumps as Nanako pounces on her. They immediately burst into giggles. A part of you wants to chastise them for rolling on the grass, but you canât bring yourself to.Â
âNow you have to find us.â Nanako very seriously tells her sister.Â
Mimiko frowns. âBut I wanna hide again.âÂ
âYou were the last one found. That makes you seeker.â Nanako argues back.Â
âIâll be seeker again.â You relent, as you have the last three times theyâve had this argument.Â
Both girls are happy with your compromise. Theyâre so much brighter now, you think to yourself as you observe them in the light. The smiles almost make their faces glow with childish innocence. Their clothes are always clean, their bellies are always full, and itâs all because of this place.Â
Nanako looks behind you. Her eyes light up.Â
Only one person in the world makes her do that. You try not to let your smile drop as she rushes past you.Â
âYouâre back!â She chirps when sheâs snuggled in Suguruâs hold.Â
When Mimiko joins her sister in the hug, he lifts them easily from the ground. They both giggle, kicking their feet as Suguru holds them. You could barely carry them after they became toddlers. Suguru, on the other hand, hardly staggers.Â
They gush to him for a few minutes. He lowers his voice as he answers their questions. Heâs good with them, you think to yourself. Suguru is gentle, patient, nurturing, and fatherly.Â
Your smile gets more painted by the minute.Â
His eyes meet yours when he sets the girls back on their feet.Â
âWhy donât you both head inside?â He dismisses the girls with a nod to you.Â
Theyâre quick to obey, always eager to impress him.Â
âYes, Geto-sama!â They both happily chirp before turning heel and scurrying away.Â
Everyone calls him that: his attendants, his followers, and your daughters. You donât know anyone who calls him by his given name.Â
Except for you.Â
Youâre not sure why he allows it. Maybe itâs for the girlâs sake, more than it is for yours. So they can see some semblance of equality between you two. Kindness.Â
A sham. A farce.Â
You watch them until they disappear inside the temple, until itâs just you and Suguru underneath the sunny sky.Â
âThey get bigger by the day.â He finally comments.Â
You nod. Your daughters are finally going to bed with their bellies full, their hunger sated. No longer are their cheeks hollow. They look like proper, healthy children now.Â
Itâs all because of him.Â
âYou were gone for a while.â You say because the silence feels heavy.Â
He turns, smiling against porcelain skin.Â
âDid you miss me?âÂ
You smile back, thinking of two tiny sets of feet chasing eachother on wooden floors.Â
âI donât travel for exorcisms anymore, not since high school.â The way he says it makes it sound like forever ago, but you doubt that his high school days were all that far behind him.Â
âIt was a nice place. Close to the ocean.âÂ
Youâre saying it before you can think to shut your mouth.Â
âThe girls have never been to the ocean.âÂ
All they ever knew was the village and then the temple. You never had the opportunity to take them anywhere before everything happened.Â
When you were younger, you had grand dreams of traveling. You wanted to go everywhere. You wanted to see every country in the world.Â
You wonder when those dreams left you.Â
He shifts, and youâre back in the templeâright next to Suguru.Â
âWe should take them there.â He says in a tone thatâs oddly wistful. âI have a feeling theyâd like the beach.âÂ
Every so often, heâd show a side of himself thatâs oddly open. Vulnerable. Soft. As though you could reach out and press your hand straight into his skin, right up to his heart.Â
Your fingers twitch. You keep them right at your side.Â
âI think so too.â You respond.Â
A hand brushes against your chin. You let him tilt your head at just the right angle so his lips can melt into yours.Â
Itâs a soft kiss, but you feel the possession and control lingering at the edge of his tongue. His grip tightensâlike heâs afraid youâll disappear if he were to let you go.Â
Maybe heâs right to feel fear.Â
But then you remember the smiles on your daughter's face. You remember the way they play with each other. You remember the way sunshine looks on their skin, the sparkle in their eyes. You remember how they go to bed with bellies full and hunger sated.Â
It becomes easier to stay after that.Â
â
Very rarely does Suguru call you to his private sittings. He prefers to spend his off-hours with you and the girls, when the temple settles down.Â
Today, he specifically requested you, so you go.Â
You trail behind an attendant, weaving through the temple halls. Sheâs yet another follower of the Buddhist temple, loyal to the master himself. Often, you wonder what these people thought of you and your daughters. You wonder what role you play in their eyes. A concubine, perhaps? You bet some raised eyebrows on why the head priest chose someone who was more than half a decade older than him, but you doubted anyone would be bold enough to challenge Suguru.Â
She pulls on large hickory doors. You quietly pass inside.Â
Heâd already committed a massacre.Â
From the rumpled suit and tie, you could only assume the puddle had once been a man. Perhaps heâd been a follower just as loyal as the attendant who led you here. That didnât matter to Suguru. Very rarely does he value loyalty over true material worth.Â
After two years, youâd grown accustomed to the gore and rot heâd occasionally display. As long as you donât directly look at it, itâs almost easy to pretend nothing was there. These days, youâre happy he doesnât show these sights to Nanako and Mimiko.Â
Suguru sprawls across the dais like the god he thinks himself to be. Heâs pinching the bridge of his nose, forehead wrinkled in clear exasperation.Â
âTheyâre getting more brash by the day.â You can hear him mutter to himself. âWhat else could I expect from these pests?âÂ
Suguru glances up at the sound of your footsteps. He immediately brightens, urging you forward.Â
Your hand touches his, and he leads you into his lap. He sighs in content as his large body dwarfs yours, as though he intended on using you as a stuffed animal from the start. You feel his face press into the nape of your neck, and you wonder if thatâs his favorite part of you.Â
âYouâre the only part of this I can ever find tolerable.â He murmurs into your skin, before he raises his voice to the lingering attendant. âClean that up.âÂ
That. Not a person, rather, what was left of that person.Â
 You have a clear view of the bloodbath now. Crimson red leaks over the floors, into the carpet. It might take the attendants hours to clean up.Â
You stare at the mess and wonder how long you have until that becomes you.Â
Your daughters were the sole reason you still breathed. They were young, still attached to you. He may have found it too cruel to kill their only parent in front of them so gruesomely.Â
Youâre not stupid enough to think Suguruâs affections would be enough to put off your eventual execution. Youâre not even sure he had affections, or that you were some oddly shaped creature heâd found amusing enough to lie in his bed. The affection, the amusement, and the tolerance would fade eventually. Heâs made it very clear what he felt about your kind, the ones who canât see grueling monsters crawling around at night. You doubted he felt enough to make you an exception.Â
If Suguru killed you, you donât think youâd mind. Youâd die knowing your girls were well cared for and loved. Itâs all a parent could hope for, really.Â
A short while later, the mess is all cleaned up, and the servants are crowding back out of the room. You hadnât moved from your spot in Suguruâs arms.Â
You only come back when thereâs a click of footstepsâ the signal of another client. You start to get up, until Suguruâs arms cinch tighter around you.Â
Itâs not exactly forceful. If you truly wanted to, you could have broken his grip entirely.Â
You still. He hums with satisfaction.Â
âStay,â he murmurs into your skin as the next client sits down for his own set of pleas. âKeep me company.âÂ
You could almost admire how delicate he made his voice. If you were anyone else, you may have given in, completely and utterly lulled by his sweet words. But you know Suguru. You can hear the thrum of bloodlust and violence that simmers between his soft words.Â
Itâs why you remain pliant in his grasp.Â
â
Sometimes, you dream of the day you met Suguru.
It was a week after the girls were taken from you. Back then, you didnât understand the terms âsorcererâ or âcursed energyâ. Back then, you were living alone with two young children, barely getting by in a village that seemed to despise you for simply existing without a husband to stand by your side. They never wondered where he went, never blamed him for his own selfish desires. That all went to you.Â
And when villagers began to disappear, they decided to blame your daughters.Â
You were at fault as well, for birthing them. No matter how much you kicked and screamed, you couldnât fight off the men who dragged your sobbing daughters away, uncaring how harsh their grip was on their soft skin.Â
âThe exorcist will deal with them.â The village chief promised before you were barricaded in your own cell. âThen, we will deal with you.â
You sobbed for days. You thought it would be the last time you saw your children. You thought your last memories of them would be of their tears as they begged you to save them.Â
The fire started on the fifth day of captivity.Â
You watched from your tiny cell window as the flames grew and grew. You heard blood-curdling screams as people ran, only to mysteriously collapse on the pavement.Â
You could only explain it as a parade of burning death.Â
You heard the whispers hours later when everything had settled. Childrenâs voices. Your children.Â
You sobbed all over again as Nanako and Mimikoâs voices called out to you. Back then, you hadnât questioned how two young girls were able to escape from an angry horde of villagers. You donât question how they were able to enter the cell so easily, even though it took two whole men to close off. All you cared about was how perfectly they fit in your arms as you held them. They were smaller, starved. You mouthed apologies upon apologies into their hair, peppering their tear-streaked faces in kisses.Â
âHow did you escape?â You finally managed to ask them.Â
Nanako answered. She was always more outspoken compared to her sister. Yet, youâre taken aback at her wide smile as she points behind her.Â
âGeto-sama saved us.â She chirped before snuggling back into your embrace.Â
To this day, youâre not sure how you didnât see him before your daughter pointed him out. He didnât bother to obscure himself. He stood still and silent as you watched him. His clothes are dark, almost outlining him against the background.Â
You opened your mouth, prepared to thank him.Â
But his eyes made you stop. It matched the death you saw right outside your prison.Â
âWhereâs the village chief?â You asked instead, clutching onto the girls. The stench of blood drifted through the air.Â
His lips quirked. It held far too much humor for your liking.Â
âGone.â Itâs all that can be said. âTheyâre all gone.â Â
âWould you like to join them?âÂ
You slowly shook your head.Â
His smile widened, and he lowered his hand.Â
As soon as you took it, you knew you sealed your fate for the rest of your life.Â
You wake up with a jolt. Your breathing is slightly ragged. The bedroom is dark, barely lit by the streetlights just outside. You see shadows of trees brushing over the window.Â
As delicately as you can, you shift to look in his direction.Â
Suguru was always a light sleeper. If you left the bed to sit by the windowsill, heâd know in minutes. The nights you couldnât sleep, you still stayed pliant in bed, uneasy to even risk the chance of waking him.Â
Tonight, Suguru doesnât move. His eyes are closed. His breaths are slow and calm. A hand drapes across your waist, keeping you from straying too far as you continue to study him.Â
Heâs bare under the blankets. You are, too. The only thing that covers you is the marks he likes to leave on your skin. Theyâve become semi-permanent. The moment one fades, he leaves another.Â
Heâs covered by marks, too. Not by the marks you left, you doubted you could ever pierce his skin. You see silver scars flecked across his thick forearms, trailing all the way up his chest and stomach.Â
Heâs so beautiful, you could never deny that of him. His face is angled and arched. His long lashes almost rest right on his cheekbones. He always covers himself up in traditional robes and fake smiles. Itâs rare, even for you, to see him like this.Â
It makes him look younger. It makes him look his own age.Â
In another life, you wouldnât have looked twice at Suguru. You wouldâve written him off as a kid who dreams too big, idealizes far too much. In another life, you wouldnât be here, tucked into his side when youâre almost thirty and heâs barely in his twenties.Â
But, in this life, where your daughters are finally happy, where youâre slowly starting to realize they love him more than they ever loved youâŚ
You donât think youâd mind if Suguru killed you. Perhaps, if you requested it, he would give you a peaceful death: a death where you could close your eyes and know your children were safe before disappearing off the Earth forever.Â
A single black lock falls against his forehead. You reach up to brush it away, tucking it behind his ears.Â
His features slightly scrunch in mild irritation. He unconsciously shifts, rolling his body further into your space. Both of his arms loop around your body, tugging you into his broad, scarred chest. You lie limp as his head sinks into your neck. His breaths are even. His face relaxes.
Youâd laugh if you werenât so sure youâd cry.Â
Even in his sleep, Suguru refused to let you go.Â
â
Whenever you can, you sleep in your daughterâs room.Â
It reminds you of your home in the villageâthe one thatâs now reduced to mere rubble. It was tiny, but it was home. The three of you used to cuddle in a small cot, but you none of you minded. You never thought of it as a luxury before Suguru brought you into his temple.Â
He never said it out loud, but it was clear where he expected you to lie at night.Â
So, on the nights heâs left, you huddle in bed with Nana and Mimi.Â
The girls are barely able to keep their giggling to a hush, no matter how hard you try to coddle them to keep their voices down. You canât blame them. Itâd been a while since the last sleepover. They are far too excited to settle, not even when you try to console them with a story.Â
Your stories are less like stories and more like dreams of a better future. Before the temple, you would crowd them under the blanket, whispering the wildest fantasies you could think of: a big house, all the candy two little girls could possibly want. The girls used to beg you to add a dog into your storiesâ a dog that they could run around the backyard with and play fetch. Each time, theyâd tell you a different type of dog: a small white dog with spots, a big brown one with shaggy fur. Ever since they could babble, they always wanted a dog.Â
The twins donât talk about dogs these days. Suguru isnât too fond of those animals.Â
They don't urge you to talk about your dream-like futures either. To them, this is their dream. You tell them different stories now.Â
âDonât wanna!â Nanako whines when you stop her from snuggling into the warm blankets. âItâs so cold.âÂ
âThatâs because you didnât give me enough time to dry your hair.â You chide. âJust a few more minutes.âÂ
She pouts and whines the entire way through, but at least she lets you finish blow-drying her hair. Her other twin is already dressed for bed, nestled into her cocoon of blankets, waiting for you and her sister to join her.Â
Itâs almost a relief to sink into bed after chasing two children around all day. Your body is close to giving out as you tuck yourself underneath the coversâNanako and Mimiko snuggled under either arm. They yawn, clearly tuckered out by the excitement they had that day.Â
Theyâre school-aged. By now, you wouldâve enrolled them in the local village school. In a different life, they would grow up whining about ugly school uniforms and hanging out with friends their age.Â
When you asked Suguru about their education, he waved off your worries. With a snap of his fingers, tutors arrived at the temple. The twins receive the quality of education only reserved for the elites in Japan.Â
Itâs not enough, but you say nothing more. You should be happy. The girls are happy. Suguru protects themâloves them. It should be enough for you.Â
Nanako is the first to fall asleep. Mimiko is slow to follow. You glance down in the darkness, watching as your daughterâs lip curls downward.Â
âWhatâs wrong?â You ask, nudging her with your arm.Â
She shakes her head, nuzzling closer into your side.Â
âI miss Geto-sama,â she admits.Â
Suguru would return in just a few days, but you can see the hole heâs left in their hearts grow. You reach over, brushing away hair from Mimikoâs temple, urging her to sleep. You canât fault their attachment to Suguru. They never knew their true father. They are children. Anything that resembled paternal love, they were quick to latch on to.Â
âHeâll be back soon.â You try to comfort her. âIâm sure he misses you just as much.âÂ
âWhere did he go?â Nanako asks. She was still awake, peering up at you with wide eyes.Â
Heâd told you earlier that day, fingers touching your skin as he complained about another trip he had no desire to complete. As much as Suguru adores running the temple, you can see the toll it takes on him. Feet never rest until he drops. His painted smile stays on until heâs behind closed doors. Errands pile up and up.Â
âHe had to visit a client far away.â You tell your daughters. âIf you go to bed now, Iâm sure heâll come back sooner.â A white lie, something normal parents do to placate their whining children.Â
Nanakoâs face drops.Â
âHe went out to collect a curse?â She reads through your words easily. You donât respond.Â
Her face twists before sheâs snuggling back into your side.Â
Her next words make your skin crawl.Â
âI hate those pests.â She hisses with her eyes closed. âThey keep taking him away from us.âÂ
âI wish theyâd all disappear off Earth.â Mimiko responds. âI wish theyâd all die.âÂ
It gets harder to swallow.Â
âGirls.â You say in the most commanding voice you can muster, but it comes out weak. âYouâŚyou shouldnât talk like that about people.âÂ
Nanako frowns harder. âBut all the non-sorcerers do is cause problems for sorcerers. Shouldnât that mean they should die, then?âÂ
You feel your breath quicken. You clutch onto them tighter. Your smile feels painful. You can feel your skin pull itself apart to maintain a semblance of friendliness.Â
âBut arenât I a non-sorcerer?â You ask.Â
The twins are sweet, loving girls. If they knew they hurt your feelings, theyâd backtrack and apologize. You could use that opportunity to teach them that no matter how bad some non-sorcerers are, it doesnât mean theyâre all like that.Â
Mimiko gives you the brightest smile youâve ever seen from her.Â
âItâs okay.â She tells you sweetly. âYou canât help but be the way you are.âÂ
Her eyes share the same adoration and condescension as Suguruâs.Â
You numbly tell them goodnight. They chirp it right back. Hours later, youâre stuck in that same bed, staring up at the ceiling as your girls peacefully snore beside you.Â
Protection. Safety. Thatâs all you ever did this for. You slept beside Suguru, letting him degrade you, pull you around like a prized poodle so you could stay by the twinsâ side. Yet, as you lie there, you canât help but ask yourself that same question over and over again:Â
Were you protecting the twins, or just yourself?Â
â
Leaving the temple was laughingly easy.Â
You didnât have much of a plan. Suguru would not be back for a couple more days. You had to leave, and you had to leave now.Â
You barely packedâ there wasnât much to take. You barely scrounged up some hidden-away money before grabbing your daughterâs hands and fleeing.Â
You half-expected to be stopped at the gates. A swarm of attendants would descend on you, pulling you away from your daughters. You would be locked in a dungeon below the temple for as long as Suguru desires. Or, he decides he no longer needs you, and youâll breathe your last breath.Â
Even after you left the grounds, you waited for this to turn out to be a trick. Nothing happens, not even as you and the twins board a bus, leaving the temple completely behind. They sit beside the window, watching the road blur by as you wait and wait.Â
Nothing. At first, you wonder if Suguru even cared that you left.Â
Slowly, it becomes clear he didnât think you would.Â
Even before, you never tried to leave. Your girls were happy with Suguru. You liked watching them be happy. For the past year, you were content with bottling up your misery so the twins could be at peace.Â
You had no desire to leave until now.Â
âWhen will we get there?â Nanako suddenly asked.Â
Her voice and eyes are filled with excitement. Earlier, youâd kept your voice in a hush, telling them to follow you and not make a sound. A surprise trip was all you told them. Itâs all the information children need to soften their tones and let you lead them out of their home.Â
âSoon.â You respond, urging her back to the window. âWeâll be there soon.âÂ
You didnât tell your daughters that you had no clue what you were doing. You didn'tât tell your daughters you were just as lost as they were. You didnât tell your daughters anything like that because, for once, you wanted to be a proper parent and protect them.Â
âAre we meeting Geto-sama?â Nanako asks next. You simply smile and pat her head.Â
The bus drops you at the outskirts of the city. Desperate, you decide not to complain. The motel you reluctantly pad into was cramped and stuffy. You had enough money to pay for one nightâenough time to get your bearings.Â
The girlsâ grow more reluctant by the second. They sit atop a lumpy mattress. You canât blame them. For nearly two years, theyâve enjoyed lavish beds and everything they could possibly want.Â
âWhere are we going?â Nanako asks. The frown cuts deeper into her face.Â
You feel your lips curve up. Itâs just as hollow as the other times youâve consoled them.Â
âYouâll see soon.â You tell her, pressing a kiss onto her forehead. You repeat the same action with Nanako.Â
When it all gets too much, you slip away. You start the TV so they can have some entertainment while youâre gone. You repeatedly tell them not to open the door unless they are sure itâs you. And then, you leave.Â
You barely make it past the door before you finally break down. You clutch your sides as you sink to the floor. Itâs the hardest youâve cried in years.Â
You always knew you were pathetic, but you finally recognize just how low youâve sunk.Â
Scraps.Â
For all your life, youâve lived off scraps. Slivers of pity or sympathy or anything people would toss your way. You did the same back in the village, too fearful to leave, no matter how badly you were treated. With Suguru, you repeated the same cycle, no matter how much he sank his fingers into your daughter, feeding them lies and propaganda so they can turn just as rotten as him.Â
Looking back, you donât fault Suguru for being so disgusted by your kind, not after all that you did.Â
In the village, you used to do odd jobs here and there. Your skills may be rusty, but you are adaptable. You would survive.Â
You and the twins could start over in a different city. It would be rough, especially on the girls. You know how much theyâd miss Suguru, but things will get better. In a new place, far away from his hold, theyâll start to let go of their resentment of non-sorcerers. You could finally send them to a proper school. They could wear proper school uniforms and make lifelong friendships.Â
They could have the life they were supposed to have. They could live as normal girls.Â
An hour later, three train tickets sit pliantly in your grip. You hadnât given much thought to the destination. It didnât matter where you went. The struggle to maintain would be the same.
The sun shines directly overhead as you step back into the hotel. In proper lighting, it looked even more unkept than earlier. You step over cracked pavement, avoiding the gaze of the burly man who hung just below the staircase.Â
Itâs a relief to get to your room and see your daughters again. Mimiko greets you first, wrapping her tiny arms in the tightest hug she could manage. You smile as you pat her head.Â
Her hair is up.Â
You didnât do that for her.Â
He perches himself on the edge of the bed. Nanako sits on the floor right beneath him with an eager smile. He braids her hair, the same as he did for her sister.Â
âLook!â Mimiko twirls when she escapes your grasp. âIsnât it pretty?âÂ
She wants you to compliment her newest hairstyle, but you canât even speak a word. The tickets crinkle in your hands as you stare at Suguru. Your fight dies before it even has a chance to grow.Â
âYes,â Suguru answers for you, âitâs very pretty.âÂ
He hasnât looked at you once since you entered his trap. He takes his time, idly brushing at Nanakoâs hair with a soft smile on his face. A short while later, Nanako bursts out with a hairstyle that perfectly matches her sister's. The two girls trot to the mirror together, gushing about their new look, completely oblivious to the tension in the room.Â
Suguru rises from his seat. He no longer wears his traditional temple outfit. Today, he wears a plain white button-up shirt and grey pants. You think itâs the first time youâve ever seen him dressed so casually in public. He looks less like a cult leader and more akin to a college student during finals week.Â
He looks like a normal person. He looks like someone he could have been.Â
You think you preferred his sham-of-a-priest outfit.Â
When Suguru finally meets your gaze, his eyes are blank. Stone. You canât tell what heâs thinking as he smiles down on you. You think you wouldâve preferred something more violent. You think dealing with fiery anger would be better compared to numbness.Â
Worldlessly, he extends his hand.Â
You place the tickets in his waiting fingers. He rips them to scraps before tossing them onto the floor.Â
âReady?â He asks the girls.Â
They obediently grab either of his hands as he leads them out of the room. You meekly trail behind. Nanako excitedly chatters about the sights she saw while on the bus ride. Mimiko nods along, putting in her own opinion as Suguru idly listens.Â
A sleek black car waits right at the parking lot. Suguru urges your daughters in the backseat. You stay put, unsure if he even deems you worthy to sit in his car at the moment. You half-expect him to push you into the trunk.Â
He opens the passenger door for you. Strangely, the moment feels more final than anything heâs ever done before.Â
The car is far less tumultuous than the bus. It easily slides on the road, gradually picking up speed as Suguru drives back to the temple. The cool air of the AC brushes over your skinâ a juxtaposition to the warm outside weather. You stare outside the window, watching the sights of people, cars, and buildings pass by in a blur.Â
You count the seconds in your head.Â
Then, you count the minutes.Â
After five, you anxiously turn in Suguruâs direction. He hasnât dropped that look of stone as he hums a tune you canât recognize.Â
âSuguru,â you start, âIâmââÂ
A hand leaves the steering wheel to rest on your thigh. Itâs barely a touch, but the intention is clear. Your voice tapers off.
You say nothing, but Suguru doesnât retract his hand. It stays on your thigh, and you can practically feel it singe through your clothes, burning your skin.Â
The anxiety is so high that you almost miss that he was taking you in the opposite direction from the temple.Â
You turn to him again. This time, he doesnât let you speak.Â
Thereâs a firm squeeze on the top of your thigh. His smile widens large enough to show teeth.Â
âRelax,â he eases. âYou promised the girls a surprise trip, remember?âÂ
â
The beach house stood stark against the cloudless sky. It was modernized, a terracotta roof hung over white walls and spotless windows. Just behind it, a beautiful beach sprawled across the horizon. White sand covered the ground as glittering blue waves crashed onto the sand beds.Â
The twins practically bounced off the walls as they scurried inside. They peeked into each vacant room, running up and down the stairs as Suguru explained that they should pick their rooms for the night before going down to the beach. The next morning, the four of you would be back at the temple.Â
You donât even think they heard them. They were already enamoured by the water, slipping out the door and onto the beach before you could stop them. Part of you wanted to chase after them, but you knew better. You could already see an attendant waiting right by the ocean. You wouldnât be necessary. Suguru made sure of that.Â
Still, you canât pull your eyes away from the window. Nanako and Mimiko are smiling from ear to ear as they kick at the waves. They arenât even wearing the proper swimwear, but they hardly seem to care as they wade deeper and deeper into the open water. You watch as they splash each other. Nanako gives chase when Mimiko flees. They roll around on the sand like overexcited puppies.Â
You want to be there with them. Maybe you can show them how to build a sand castle before they squish it down with their feet. Maybe you can teach them that there are more ways to be children.Â
Maybe if you grovel enough, Suguru will grant you that moment before he kills you.Â
Youâve repeated it over and over again in your head. Itâs a never-ending loop within your thoughts. You will not mind if Suguru kills you. You will not mind if Suguru kills you. You will not mind if Suguru kills you.Â
And yet, as you stand by the crystal window, watching your daughters live, you canât stop shaking your hands.Â
âHave they eaten anything?âÂ
Suguruâs soft voice cuts through the tense air. You hold your wince in, keeping your eyes trained on your daughters.
âNot since breakfast.â You admit. Maybe heâs trying to show you yet again how poor a caretaker you were. You could never know with him.Â
Suguru sighs in relief.Â
âThatâs good,â he says, âI planned a big lunch. It would be unfortunate if the girls had a poor appetite.âÂ
You do not know what heâs doing. You arenât sure if thatâs the point. Maybe heâs waiting for you to make your move first.Â
You clench your hands into fists.Â
âIâm sorry.â You let out a shaky breath before sucking in more air. âIâm so sorryââÂ
âHave I ever hit you?âÂ
He feels closer. Your throat goes dry. It takes you seconds to gather your thoughts and answer.Â
âNo.â You tell him in a weak voice.Â
He takes another step forward. You can feel him right at your back, ever so slightly pressing you further into the glass.Â
âHave I ever hurt you?â Not in any way that mattered to him. âHave I ever yelled at you? Berated you?â You never gave him that chance.Â
âNo.â You repeat.Â
âAnd yet, you ran from me.â A hand curls at your waist, barely edging on painful. âI gave you so much, but you ran, and you took my daughters with youââÂ
âThey arenât yours.âÂ
You think this is the first time youâve ever interrupted him. Your first and last.Â
The hand at your waist barely urges you to turn before you obey. You slowly face him. It burns to look into his eyes. That fake smile has completely withered away from his lips. His eyes search yours, and you canât tell if he found what he was looking for or not.Â
âWhy havenât you killed me yet?â You finally ask.Â
He doesnât move. You push forward.Â
âWhy?â The words feel like sandpaper in your throat. âIâIâm useless to you. Youâve made that clear before. Nana and Mimi, theyâŚin a few years, theyâll get over it.â With how much heâs brainwashed them, they might even understand. âSo why am I still alive?âÂ
His jaw clenches. You trace the movement and think this might be it: here and now. Youâve seen that look before, back at the temple, when his followers would come to him, littered with curses; he grew more disgusted with them by the day.Â
The last time youâd ever see your daughters would be a scene of them happy, carefree, safe.Â
âI should.â He tells you, voice stiff. âI should kill you. I almost went through with it and thenâŚâÂ
Youâve never met someone with purple eyes until he strode into your life. Most days, theyâre dull, almost maroon, as he busies himself with the temple and absorbing curses. The shadows hide their true color. Today, as sunlight shines through the window, you see a kaleidoscope of colors within his eyes: mauve, lilac, iris, loâ
His mouth crashes into yours. Thereâs nothing gentle or controlled about it. It lingers on near desperation as his lips find your own. Suguruâs hands tighten on your body as his weight presses you against the window. When you try to move, he barely gives you an inch, grasping your jaw, keeping you in place as he kisses you.Â
You gasp, fingers instinctively reaching down to grab his forearm. Youâre sure your nails are digging into his flesh; it has to hurt, but he barely seems to register the feeling as he pulls apart your clothes. His hands were practically erratic as he pinched and pulled at your nipples at just the right moment to make you whine into his mouth.Â
His eyes were the worst part: wide and completely blown out. Suguru is usually so controlled and measured with his emotions, but in this moment, you can see everything on his tensed-up face. Thereâs hatred, disgust, and anger. You could handle that. If thatâs why he was doing this, you think youâd be fine.Â
But the obsession, the adoration, the love that swirls within his eyes. So much love. It makes you sick.Â
His lips fall away from yours as his head drops to your neck. A part of you was grateful for it. You couldnât bear looking into his eyes a second more.Â
Like always, Suguru has a way of making you regret your relief.Â
Thereâs a harsh tug on your wrist. You barely fight as he pulls you through the living room and into an unnamed bedroom. The room is sparse, clearly meant for a temporary visit. Thereâs barely a desk and a queen-sized bedâlined with bedsheets far too domestic for this situation. The door shuts with a blistering thud that rattles the entire floor.Â
Youâve been in this situation so many times before; it should be relieving that heâs chosen the normal route. But today feels different. You felt it the moment he kissed you. Youâve never seen Suguru like this. Itâs unknown territory.Â
Suguru leaves you as he sits on the bed. His eyes are shadowed, almost hollow.Â
âStrip.â
You almost flinch at the crude language. Heâs never once spoken like that before. Suguruâs words were always floral-like. He made sure to douse the chains with honeyâadding just enough sweetness to cover the scent of iron.Â
Today, the chains cut into your skin as they pull. You move to obey.Â
Itâs painfully quiet. You can feel the heat of his gaze on your skin as you peel off your shirt, then everything else. Youâre not stupid enough to think heâd be satisfied with you in your underwear. His impatience lingers in the air. Â
He distracts himself with his own clothing. They join yours in the pile right at the foot of the bed. He always wears baggy shirts, and his traditional garb effectively hides his muscular figure. Now, you can see him in his entirety as he beckons you closer.Â
Heâs gentler now as he pulls you towards him. Itâs not any better. His lips meld against yours as youâre positioned into his lap, bare chest pressed against yours. You can feel his thick cock bob between his muscular thighs. You expect him to flip you onto your back, but heâs more than content to keep you seated.Â
You wonder if itâs another one of his faux kindnesses. Like the way he allows only you to speak his given name. Like the way he talks so softly, despite the bloodlust thrumming just behind his throat. Like the way he currently looks up at you, giving the illusion that you have any control in this situation, before he grabs your hips and sinks his cock into your pussy.Â
Itâs almost embarrassing how ready you are. Your wet cunt greedily sucks him in as he bounces you on his cock. Sometimes, you can close your eyes and pretend it isnât Suguru fucking you into oblivion. Sometimes, heâs kind enough to allow that.Â
Not this time.Â
âI shouldâve killed you.â He repeats into your skin as his fingers reach down to your clit. He curls them in a way that makes you whine. You can feel his smile on your neck, fangs digging into your skin. Even to your frazzled brain, you could sense the hostility dripping from his teeth.
His pace is unrelenting, almost cruel, if you didnât know all too well that he could be worse. Instinctively, you reach out, digging nails into his shoulders. He barely acknowledges, leaning into you as he finds the right angle to go even further.Â
âThere were so many timesâŚIâI almost did it.â His words are less put together, less like heâs talking and more like heâs spitting them out. âThe first night I fucked youââ His words end in a sharp hiss as your pussy squeezes him.Â
âI shouldâve done it, then. I knew I shouldâve killed you as soon as I was done ruining this cunt for anyone else.âÂ
Listening to his vile words, dread pools into your belly. You donât think youâve ever fought him before. The earlier versions of you knew better.Â
You push away at his chest. Heâs quick to intervene, hand grabbing your chin so he can keep you in place as he digs his cock into your sobbing cunt.Â
âStop.â You plead to deaf ears. âStop it. SuguruââÂ
âI thought about killing you in your sleep.â He continues. His hand slaps your clit, and your back arches. He gives a dry laugh. âI wâwanted it to be kind. Even then, I knew I was too attached.âÂ
Youâre shaking your head even when you donât understand why. His lips crash into yours all over again, barely pulling back before he can speak more horrible things.Â
âWhen I heard you left, I thought about it.â His voice is nothing more than a sneer and you hate how you feel something coil in your bellyâthe beginnings of you tipping over the edge. âThen I thought about breaking your legs. Tying you to the bed. I thought about never letting you see anyone other than me again. Death was too lenient a punishment because IââÂ
He snaps his jaw shut like he canât even bear saying it. The question remained in the air. Why arenât you dead? Why arenât you dead? Why arenât you dead?Â
He only realized the answer today.Â
Youâre only moments away from breaking apart completely when he forces you to look into his wide and desperate eyes.Â
His words take on a different tone then. Almost sobering.Â
âYouâre the only one whoâll ever see me like this.â He hisses, but itâs watered down by the weight of his oncoming orgasm.Â
âBe more grateful.âÂ
Your eyes roll back as you cum on his cock. Your orgasm washes over you like a wave, fizzling all the way to the tips of your toes as your pussy spasms over his dick, pulsing around him. He doesnât fare much better, sinking his cock deep inside your walls as he cums. Your abused hole fills to the brim of his climax as he thrusts weakly into your womb, milking every last drop.Â
The high fades eventually and you collapse on top of him. Suguru is quick to accommodate, adjusting you so your head rests on his chest. The only sounds left are your ragged breaths and his satisfied hums as he holds you. You can barely keep your eyes open, nearly falling asleep on his warm skin as his softened cock slips out of your battered pussy.Â
A short while later, heâs tilting backward, softly dropping you on the pillows. You blearily watch as he surveys your exhausted figure. He props his head with his hand.Â
âHowâs that for make-up sex?â That same soft lilt is back in his voice. So is that smile. Itâs barely a relief.Â
He doesnât wait for a response. Instead, Suguru leans over the bed, plucking something from the pile of clothes. He takes your hand in his, briefly obscuring your fingers with his own.Â
âI thought about waiting for the right moment.â His tone seeps into something more sheepish. âBut I donât think I can wait anymore.âÂ
You can only stare at the ring he slipped onto your finger. It oddly suits him more than it would ever suit you. Itâs simple, yet the craftsmanship shines against your skin. A large diamond sits in the center, leering at you.Â
You tilt your fingers toward the light, watching the ring glisten.Â
You feel him sink into your side. An arm wraps around your waist.Â
âYouâre right, the girls arenât my blood.â He says it so casually, but his nonchalant acknowledgement of the truth makes your blood curdle.Â
Thereâs a kiss at the edge of your shoulder. You feel him smile with teeth.Â
âAll the more reason to make things official.âÂ
Thinking about a boy that loves keeping his fingers inside of you.
It's not as if he doesn't love fucking you, and he certainly does every single day. It's just that there's something more vulnerable about this.
It's always at random timing. You never know when it's coming. That's what makes it so cute, the fear on your face, the sudden stiffening of your body.
Sitting in the couch â he always forces you to sit in front of him, between his legs or on his lap, back to his chest. In bed, you're always spooned by him, feeling his cock dig into your ass through your clothes. Watching mindless TV, or just trying to rest. Whatever it is, it never lasts long before the touching starts.
He keeps one leg hooked over his arm, just to ensure your legs stay open. His other hand is already three fingers in, down to the joint of his fingers to his palm. Curling inside you in that way that makes you whimper, gasp for breath, shudder against the touch. You know he likes that much.
That's it. Give in to it.
He's a very patient man. He likes making you cum once this way first. Thumb rubbing into your clit, feeling your insides twitch, increasingly tight around his fingers until you quiver and squeal and spasm, fluids leaking out across his fingers.
He never fails to shove it into your mouth. Forces you to lick it off. You always taste so good, surely you can appreciate it too.
He would know. He spends plenty of time with his face between your legs too. Hands locking your hips in place so you can't pull away, frantically lapping and suckling at your clit like a man starved, the occasional hum of satisfaction against your sensitive flesh.
Doing this first makes the second orgasm more intense, so it seems, at least from the experimentation he's done. You're already soaked when it goes in, each thrust sending sloppy, squelching sounds reverberating across the room.
But nonetheless, the part that comes before it, keeping you squirming in his lap or against his chest and clamping your thighs down on his hand feels more... intimate, somehow. It's more embarrassing for you. He's the one still perfectly collected, fully clothed, and there's a certain dignity to that. You, on the other hand, stripped down and struggling and whimpering and trembling â it's euphoric because it's done to you for him.
It's not a mutual act, but something done to you. A performance for his eyes and his ears, putting you and only you in the position of vulnerability, something inflicted on you, something given to him, a one-way exchange in which he only takes and takes.
Often times it's almost casual, without any urgency or immediate intention of driving you to orgasm. You can't protest it if your hands are tied behind your back anyway. Just lazily curling his fingers inside of you, pumping them in and out, head resting on your shoulder, attention more immersed in what they're showing on the news than you for the time being. Just an automated motion, no different from how one might drum their fingers against the armrest of the couch. But it's slow, not enough, torturous â he's just accomplishing two tasks at once, tormenting you and catching up on the news.
By the time he turns his attention back to you â his other hand leaves its place underneath your shirt, pinching at the nipples, reaching over to mute the TV â you're shuddering, labored breaths accentuated by pitiful whines. As his fingers pull out, they're connected to your insides by a trail of fluid. The skin of his finger pads are wrinkly from how long they've been practically submerged.
It had the effect he intended. Look at you, rendered into such a mess.
Still, you get to cum once this way before he puts himself inside you. When he's actually railing into you, he's often too overwhelmed and lost in the haze of it all to really take in and savor your expressions, your sounds. This way he can just watch, enraptured by the way your face contorts and your voice gets so high in pitch as you shudder and squirm, the embarrassment that makes tears well up in your eyes.
And it makes the sex better too. You're so sensitive once you've already gotten to cum once. You clench down that much harder, you squeal that much louder, the tears stream down your face that much easier. You're so sensitive now that the pleasure is nearly painful. You jolt and jerk your body forward to try to pull yourself off â it makes it that much hotter when he pulls you back by the hips and rams into you with full force, the way you wail and gasp for breath. It's adorable.
Or if you're really bad, it can be a punishment too. Keeping his hand working you for hours, never letting you reach a peak. Or the inverse, so many times that your insides hurt and you beg for him to stop. It's satisfying either way.
And it's really, really hot to know he has that much control over you with nothing more than his hand. Don't give him that pitiful look though â it's your fault for being so easy to pleasure.
Something Iâm working on has me thinking more about older woman x younger boy supremacy and this thought has been possessing my brain ever since. I feel like modern AUs tend to portray Childe as some kind of semi-popular jock boy and while thatâs also good, consider âsmall town local problem child/delinquentâ Ajax who skipped the whole pre-Abyss phase of his canon life and has always had a thing for fighting, except the modern world setting only amplifies his violent inclinations and makes it worse and worse until itâs a major problem.
His hot-blooded tendencies to instigate conflict and adrenaline addiction donât exactly work out as well for him in the modern world, itâs seen as far more of a problem than a gift. And due to the fact that the modern world does not allow many opportunities where it is acceptable to be violent without restraint, heâs a LOT more pent up and frustrated. He doesnât get to fight people under fair and mutual conditions like he would like to, and when this urge gets bottled up for extended periods of time, it tends to come out rather⌠explosively.
Heâs been expelled from multiple schools, been through more mandatory counseling sessions than he can count. They always want to try and find a âproblem,â try to âfixâ him, as if he canât just love fighting for fightingâs sake â and they get frustrated when they canât find a âproblem.â His parents tried putting him into wrestling or martial arts sort of stuff, where he would always get kicked out for âgoing too farâ and severely hurting another kid within a day or two.
It started young â the first behavioral suspension was in preschool. Attacked another kid with some toy. In childhood, the only truly big ordeal was when he got into a playground fight that ended in him slamming the other boyâs head into a tree so hard that the boy got a concussion, but there were a few more squabbles he started as well. It wasnât until his early teens that he really started instigating conflicts, usually annoyed and provoked other kids into fights, which started off annoying, and quickly turned concerning when he started utilizing makeshift weapons from school supplies or box cutters he stole in said fights.Â
By the time heâs in his last year of high school, heâs getting into fights with people on a regular basis. Looking for trouble, the teachers tell his parents at every conference. Heâs always the instigator. He seems to enjoy conflicts so much that he just enjoys stirring up trouble in any way he can. Or, apparently one psychiatrist who had to see him theorized, heâs very bored with regular life, and finds getting in trouble and sparking reactions to provide entertainment.
Well, he doesnât start the actual physical aspect, that is. He knows better than that. He always walks up to people with a smile on his face, provoking and mocking them into being the one to throw the first punch. That way they can always attest that he didnât attack first. Itâs just self-defense.
Itâs not as if heâs an unlikeable person, no, thatâs not why he ends up quite isolated and friendless. He can be charming, and heâs talkative and extroverted, sure, but itâs a small town with only so many schools, and his reputation of having sent so many kids to the nurseâs office â on a few separate occasions, the hospital even â does not do him many favors. Perhaps it is that charm and extroversion that actually isolates him even more. If he were the one of the standard types of âkid with issues,â quiet and shy and outwardly depressive, or bitter and self-hating and jaded by a bad home life, people might feel bad for him. Theyâd take pity on him, and thus be more gentle and patient towards him, treat him with pity and forgiveness.
But heâs not. Heâs sitting there grinning like an idiot every time heâs waiting outside the school offices, waiting on his parents to come get the âon thin iceâ lecture for the third time this month. At least this time he didnât fuck up badly enough to warrant the police being there. They always give these vaguely threatening words, as if all parties involved arenât well aware that this is the last school in the district that would take him and that the only way heâs leaving is if itâs to a penitentiary. So unless he does something that bad, theyâre stuck with him.
Either way, heâs loud and energetic and genial and that just weirds people out that much more â and to be honest, he can get a bit annoying rather fast. If you watch him, you see him talk to people all the time, but most people are either shrinking away from him or look annoyed, and heâs never talking to the same people consistently each day, no real friends.
You feel bad for his parents. You can only imagine it takes a toll on them. And how strange it is, since from what you hear, all their other children are normal, good kids or upstanding adultsâŚ. so it surely canât be a fault with the parents or a problem at home, as a lot of people initially assume.
Heâs a good kid, his parents say. Really. Deep down. Heâs a good kid. Heâs got so much potential. He just needs an outlet. He just needs someone who will be patient with him.
You tell yourself that, too. You need to believe it if youâre going to be stuck with him for a while.
