Imagine getting split up in a haunted house with your friends. It starts off with the typical jumpscares as the actors do their job well.
You're wondering down a smoke filled hall full of flashing led lights. Fake blood is smeared on the walls and cobwebs are on the ceiling. You're still giggling from the way your friend shrieked the moment you all stepped in.
Looking around, you shuddered a little bit as you walked past a guy in clown makeup lying on the floor with a slash across his chest, blood pouring around him. Practical effects are getting so realistic these days, you thought to yourself.
You're so distracted as cheesy horror music still plays in the background that you don't notice a tall figure standing there until you run into them.
Tilting your head back, your eyes go wide as you see a man in a mask towering over you.
"Sorry." You smiled awkwardly as you took a step back to get away, and you see he's wearing black jeans, a white wife beater splattered in red, and holding on to what (you hope) is a fake axe. He easily towers over you.
The man stays silent, making the atmosphere feel more tense. He's tall and muscular, and you can only see his eyes peaking down at you from underneath the mask. He definitely fit the role of a haunt actor.
"Wow." You laughed nervously as you stepped to the side. "You're like, really in character, huh?"
The man stays silent as he turns and watches you rush past him, and you swear you can hear him chuckle as you turn the corner.
Chills ran down your spine as you started to wander around, feeling like someone was watching you, but every time you turned around to check, nobody was there. Frustration started to build up as you hut nothing but dead ends.
Sure, it was fun at first, with the occasional jumpscare popping out at you that would make flinch, then laugh at yourself for letting it get to you. But your phone had no reception and you were losing track of time.
This was getting ridiculous, you thought to yourself as you looked around for someone to ask for help to get out of there. You hoped your friends were having a better time than you were.
Once you reached the next dead end, you nearly screamed in frustration, ready to yank your hair out until you saw the same masked man from the corner of your eye.
"Okay." You sighed as you walked over to him. "Haha, you got me. Can you please help me get out of here now?"
The man stays silent, but his eyes are trained on you as he lowers his head to look down at you.
You rolled your eyes as he stayed in character, watching the blood drip off of the axe he was casually holding onto.
It wasn't until you got closer to him that the heavy metallic scent hit you. A chill ran down your spine, true terror running through your veins as you looked down at his weapon, noticing how sharp it really was. A real weapon, not allowed in haunts like this one.
Suddenly, the fun little jumpscares weren't so fun anymore. This man wasn't a haunt actor at all.
Your face paled as you remembered the dead clown that you'd passed by earlier. The actor that would've been the one to scare you a few times before helping you reunite with your friends at the exit. But he was really dead.
And now you were stuck here with him. An actual killer.
As if reading your thoughts, he grabbed your chin and pulled you against him. You were shaking as he leaned down, lowering his head to whisper in your ear.
"Run." He growled lowly before letting go of your chin and stepping back.
You didn't have to be told twice, immediately running away from him.
Suddenly, the smoke felt too heavy, the music was too loud, the deep red led lights that filled the rooms only added to your terror, and the animatronics they had to jump out at you only made you more overwhelmed.
You were nearly ready to cry as you turned around and saw the masked man casually walking towards you in typical horror movie slasher style.
Then you heard the sound of distant laughter. It sounded like your friends chatting with each other.
A wave of hope went through you as you ran over to the wall and started banging against it, screaming at the top of your lungs.
"Help!" You yelled out as loud as you could as you slapped your hands against the walls. "Please, help! He-"
You shrieked as a hand suddenly grabbed ahold of your hair and pushed you onto the cold ground.
The masked man throws his axe to the side as he climbs on top of you, making you look into his eyes.
He laughs wickedly, pressing himself against you as he tightens his grip on your hair. You screamed and cried, trying to push him off you as you feel his hard on rub against your thigh, cock straining against his jeans.
"Scream all you want." He grinned as he pulled his mask up, feeling his breath fanning against your lips. "Everyone will think it's all part of the show."
Synopsis: For your own safety, the strongest sorcerer of today kidnaps you.
Word Count: 6.9k
(Warnings: implied masturbation, implied nsfw, implied noncon recording, death of a minor character.....im pretty sure i missed a warning so lemme know any pls)
Instead of waking up in a bed, you find yourself on the floor.
It's not a comfortable spot to sleep in. The carpet is clean, but it's odd because you don't have this type of carpet in your room. Actually, this isn't your room at all.
But the panic doesn't really set in until you realize your arms are bound.
You don't notice him until he speaks. You're too busy yanking on the metal, pulling your hand as hard as you could. The cuffs don't even budge.
"If you keep yanking your arms like that, you might break 'em."
He's tall, rivaling the door he just walked through. He looks a couple of years older than you, but his white hair can't be natural, not at his age. His blue eyes are lax. The worst part is how relaxed he looks. He has an eased posture and a pretty smile. He's amused, watching you like you’re a pesky mouse trapped in a bucket.
You don’t know him. You’re stuck in an unfamiliar room, chained to the floor, and you don’t know this man.
Escape isn’t possible. So you resort to the next best thing: you plead.
“Who are you?” Your voice is light and wavers on every syllable. “Where-Where am I? Did you bring me here? Please don’t-“
”You always this talkative in the morning?” He dodges your question with a lax grin. “Anyway, uh, sorry about this-“ he gestures to your tied-up form “-I would've used a talisman, but those won’t work on you for obvious reasons. The handcuffs aren’t too tight, are they?”
He steps closer, and you scream. It’s shrill, filled with a type of fear that makes your blood freeze because you don’t know this man, you don’t know where you are, and he’s getting closer.
“Okay okay, I get it!” He manages to say over your pleas for help, but he steps back, and it’s enough to quiet your fear. “Obviously, you need some more time alone, so I’m gonna give you a couple more hours. Feel free to take a mint!” He cheerily points to the nightstand.
He leaves as quickly as he enters. The door shuts but doesn’t lock. You’d be relieved if you weren’t still incapacitated.
You look around the room. Nothing of value, nothing that you could reach and grab. Apart from a chair, the only other pieces of furniture were a heavy-looking bed and a bolted-down nightstand. Your kidnapper was certainly meticulous.
The restraints have just enough slack for you to lean over. You peer at the nightstand. A plastic bowl, too flimsy to be made into a weapon. It contains wrapped-white candies. You gingerly pick one up.
They’re sugar-free.
He returns to the mints scattered all over the floor.
“Okay.” He notes, gracefully stepping over the mess. “Clearly, you aren’t a fan of peppermint. 'you a wintergreen kinda’ person?”
You don’t look at him. You’ve been in the same position you had been in for hours, sitting curled on the floor. By then, your desperation was starting to show through.
“Please just let me go.” You mutter, your voice so low, it’s a miracle he can hear you. “I don’t have any money. I have nothing to offer.”
”Well, that’s good because I don’t want your money.” He says. “I know this looks pretty bad, but this is for your sake more than mine.”
You look at him just as he squats down to your height. You shift away. he smiles.
”Do you know what sorcerer's are?”
You blink.
“It’s fine if you don’t; we all start somewhere, right? A sorcerer is someone who can manipulate cursed energy. I’m a sorcerer! I don’t wanna brag too much, but I’m pretty good at it.”
He laughs like he’s telling a joke, and you suddenly realize that you were kidnapped by someone who believes he’s a wizard.
“Guess you’re still lost, huh? How about I just show you instead?” He points to an ironed-out shirt hanging on a rack. You follow his finger.
He didn't move. There was no machinery. The shirt just crinkled by itself before it dropped to the floor.
You gape. The man grins.
"Pretty amazing, right? That's cursed energy, or, my power if you wanna be less technical."
"Cursed energy." You whisper, a repetition of his words rather than any actual understanding. He beams regardless.
"Yeah! Well, it's a little more complicated than that, but let's just start with the basics for now. Baby steps."
Your dread doesn't fade. Earlier, you feared what a man could do to you, tied and defenseless. Now, you wondered what this man wouldn't do to you.
"Okay, then....why?" You warily ask him. "Why tell me any of this? What's the point?"
"An excellent question!" He commends you, as though he were your teacher and not your jailor. "See, cursed energy is a bit complicated, but it's extremely effective. In almost every case, it's the solution. Except for you."
You shrink back.
"What-what does that mean?"
His grin turns feline. He's enjoying this; seeing you shake, waver beneath his eyes.
"Exactly what I said: you aren't affected by cursed energy. A sorcerer could use their technique on you, and there won't even be a scratch on your body. You're basically the Eraserhead of the Jujutsu World."
You stare at him. He hums, drumming his fingers on his thigh.
"I'm not great at explanations. How about we just have a hands-on experience?"
He extends his hands. A purple orb crackles to life, slowly gaining mass.
"Not too big," he says, though it's clear he isn't speaking to you, "don't wanna wreck the room."
He adjusts his angle so it's facing you. Your eyes widen, and the desperation to wrangle yourself out of the handcuffs grows stronger.
"Wait, stop!" You pleads fall on deaf ears. "Okay okay. I believe you. I believe you-" He flicks his fingers. You close your eyes just before impact.
You expected something. Electricity, a shock. Pain. Your body being eviscerated in milliseconds.
Nothing. Not even a gust of wind.
When your eyes open, he's grinning at you.
"See?" He says, "Not even a scratch."
He's right. Your clothes aren't even rustled, but the evidence is there. The carpet below you is shaved and cleaned off. And the wall closest to you has cracks on it.
You look back up at him.
"I said I believed you."
He shrugs. "Doesn't hurt to make sure we're on the same page." His smile is starting to look less scary and more annoying.
Your mind still struggles to keep up with all the information you've been given. The typhoon of anxiety is coursing through you.
"So, then....why this?" You mention to the handcuffs.
"Just a little confirmation you won't go crazy and destroy the place." He supplies happily. "If jujutsu doesn't work on you, then bindings and talismans definitely won't do a thing. Looking back, abduction probably wasn't the greatest idea in the world. I would've figured something else out, but time wasn't on our side in this case. Especially if we wanted you alive."
You pale at that. He notices.
"What, you thought I'd be the only person who noticed you? You're an anomaly. In our world, that's dangerous. Also, the bounty on your head is a pretty nice incentive for people to get the job done."
"A bounty?"
He grins, and the number he gives makes your mouth hang open.
"Yup, pretty crazy, right? Anyway, until everything settles down, you and I are roomies!" He claps. "Isn't that exciting!?"
You glance at him. Then, in the room. Then, at your cuffs. Everything was going so fast. The only constant was him.
"So, I'm not really a prisoner?" You ask. "I could just...leave, right?"
"Sure you could. If you hear all that and still wanna go, I won't stop you. Promise." He nods. "But you'd be dead as soon as you step out of the apartment."
It's not a threat. It's a promise. And not from him. That makes it worse.
This is insane. All of this is insane; who'd believe any of it? But his powers....that can't be faked. As well as everything that he told you. Why would he lie? What reason could he have to deceive you?
"Okay," you say hesitantly, "just one more thing."
The man leans in.
"What's your name?"
He smiles.
Becoming Gojo's roommate was an easy transition.
You’ve always been someone who goes with the flow. Becoming someone's consenting captive isn't a struggle once you get used to it. A few days in and you and your 'captor' have fallen into an easy rhythm. It's easy to grow trusting of him, especially when there are others who can vouch for him.
"You should be arrested." Ieiri mumbles, checking your wrists.
"What? I can't believe you're upset with me." Gojo responds though he doesn't sound very panicked. "I was desperate!"
Ieiri shakes her head, continuing wrapping your wrists. Amid your panic during the first few hours in Gojo's apartment, you managed to sprain your wrists, trying to yank yourself out of the handcuffs. You wince when she presses on your bruised skin.
"Sorry," she says, voice flat. You smile anyway.
Ieiri was also a sorcerer, but she had a different technique. Instead of Gojo's destruction, hers revolved around healing. You've never really seen it in action ("My technique won't work on you; even then, it's a sprained wrist. You'll live."), but it sounded pretty powerful.
"I'm not upset." Ieiri continues. "But I'm surprised you're going along with all this." That sentence is directed at you.
You shrug while trying to keep still for her. "He was pretty convincing."
Ieiri raises a brow, before ultimately deciding she doesn't care.
"Again, I'm very sorry about all this." Ijichi pipes up. Ever since he entered Gojo's flat, he's been doing nothing but begging for your forgiveness for Gojo's abrupt actions. Apologetic, but not very shocked. You're assuming this isn't the first time Gojo has done something like this.
Gojo's allies were very different from each other, you ultimately decided.
“We thought we’d have more time to approach you,” he continues with a nervous smile, “we never expected the clans to move so quickly.”
“Clans?” You ask, “What clans?”
Ijichi gives Gojo a look. Gojo looks away, whistling. Eventually, Ijichi’s shoulders drop.
“Some minor clans with dwindling jujitsu sorcerers.” He gives. “And then the bounty happened and well…” he trails off.
You nod. “So, when will everything go back to normal?”
Gojo grins. Ieiri sighs. It’s Ijichi who gives the most concrete response.
You look at the three of them. “Or will things ever go back to normal?”
”It’s hard to say,” Ijichi says, “news travels fast in the jujutsu world, but it’s not improbable. Miyashiro will let us know eventually.”
"Miyashiro?”
To answer your question, Ijichi pulls out his phone. You stare at a picture of yourself. But you know you’ve never been in that restaurant before.
“It’s his technique.” Ijichi tells you. “Flesh manipulation. For the time being, Miyashiro will pose as you and can hopefully air out any potential bounty hunters. He’s the perfect man for the job.”
You nod, a bit skeptical. “Isn’t this a bit dangerous? Aren’t people trying to kill me?”
Ijichi tucks away his phone. “Miyashiro is one our best. He'll be fine.” He assures.
Satisfied with your answers, you nod. Ieiri pulls away after she finishes wrapping your hand. Gojo claps his hands together.
“See, roomie? You’re in great hands!” He chirps. You nod, if only to seem compliant.
Apart from Gojo himself, Ieiri and Ijichi are the only ones who know about your predicament, his most trusted people. The rest of the world is unaware that there's someone posing as you, nor that you've gone into hiding. Not your friends. Not even your family. ("It's for the best," Ijichi explained when you voiced your worries, "but we promise, once the bounty is down, we'll return you back to your life. It'll be like nothing ever happened.").
Settling in barely takes a week. Gojo's nice enough to lend you his room, more than happy to set up in the living room. Despite how you two 'met', he's quickly proven to be a nice guy.
Nice. Just nice.
To be honest, you don't know all that much about Gojo. He's letting you stay in his home, but you don't see him all that much. Gojo is gone pretty much all day. Sometimes, he's gone for days on end. The apartment feels more like yours than his.
"I'm the strongest." He told you when you asked. You don't know what he means by that, so you didn't pry.
Despite the awkwardness, you don't mind the distant relationship. The man probably has his day packed with hunting down demons and this school he talked about.
The change doesn't happen until two weeks after you move in.
You weren't allowed to have a phone, nor any internet access, so you mostly spent your time doing hobbies. You've always wanted to learn to crochet, and now you finally had time to actually learn. Drawing also took some hours out of your day. And eventually, you moved onto cooking.
Ijichi was more than happy to grab you the grocery items when you asked. When you insisted on paying him back, he declined profusely. He was actually the one who organized getting your things and really moving you in. You have another thing you owe these people.
Cooking was a steep learning curve. Before, you'd only made simple sandwiches and curries, so the food starting out wasn't the best. But you enjoyed the journey more, rather than the end result. Pretty soon, you became pretty good at it.
Gojo wasn't home often these days, so you jump when the front door clicks open. He takes off that blindfold he's always wearing, blinking a couple times before his blue gaze settles on you in the kitchen.
"What's all this?" He cocks his head. He isn't smiling.
Oh no. You remembered getting permission to use his kitchen, but maybe he hadn't expected you to go this far? The kitchen is a mess. There's flour everywhere. You still hadn't washed the cutting board, nor the knives.
"I'm sorry," you say, "I-I can clean up and-"
He waves his hand. "It's fine. I'm not mad, I just..." He drifts off.
You suddenly have a feeling that you might've misread this entire situation.
"Would you like some?" You ask. "I think I made too much."
"I could eat," he says.
You smile.
A few moments later, the two of you are settled on the table. Gojo's never been so quiet before. In the short time you've known him, he's always been boisterous and playful. Now, he's silent. Staring at the food.
You hold your breath when he takes his first bite.
"It's good." He says, his mouth full. It's cute. "Really, really good. Damn."
You laugh out of nerves.
"You think so? I'm glad! It was my first time trying out this recipe and I wasn't sure if it'd turn out well and..." you're rambling, you know that. You can't help yourself.
"No, it's good. Real good," he says. It's silent again, but not as uncomfortable this time. The only thing you hear is the clanking of silverware and the hum of the lights. Outside the window, the city lights twinkle.
You're on your last bite when he speaks again.
"'been a while since I've had a homecooked meal." He starts with a slight laugh. "Kinda' forgot what it's like."
You think of the fridge. How it was only ever stacked with protein shakes and instant meals. Gojo was a sorcerer. The strongest. You think you get what that means now.
"I wouldn't mind doing this more often," you say.
He looks at you with the prettiest blue you've ever seen. The color of a bright cloudless sky.
"I think I'd like that."
Who ever said the phrase 'the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach' was onto something. Your friendship with Gojo bloomed after that night. On the seldom nights he came home, dinner was made and sitting on the table. It took a few days for the two of you to warm up enough to talk to each other. Once Gojo got going, it was a lot harder to shut him up. He talked about his school, his work as a teacher for other jujutsu sorcerers. You liked the way he talked about his students. Nothing but pride and affection .
On the nights he didn't come home, you'd save the leftovers in the fridge. They were usually gone by the morning.
He was around a lot more after that night. Not that you minded, it was his house. You just didn't get a few things about him. For example, that blindfold of his. Why wear it when it was clear he couldn't see with it on?
You decide to bring it up the third time he nearly runs you over.
"It's part of my technique." He explains. "The six eyes. They're basically cursed energy x-rays. The blindfold just limits their strength."
You were lounged on the sofa watching TV while he was plopped right next to you. He's switched his blindfold for his glasses.
"Oh," you say when it clicks, "and since I block people's abilities you..."
"Yup! Can't see you at all!" Gojo happily fills in. "It doesn't help that you're so quiet. Maybe I should put a bell on you."
You laugh, but it doesn't sound like he was joking.
"What's it like?" You ask, turning to him, "Seeing the way, you see? What-what do you see?"
"Everything." Gojo shrugs.
You frown. "That's not very descriptive."
He laughs. "Here, wanna try?" He takes off his glasses, handing them over. "These things are real popular with the ladies."
He's avoiding the question, but you don't bother chasing him for it. Instead, you grab the lenses, pulling them over your eyes. You expect to see the secrets of the universe. Instead, you see nothing but darkness. Though, that might be the point.
"Everything, hm?" You ask, when you take them off. "That sounds exhausting."
He takes them back with a grin. "It is! My eyes hurt so so much! You should pity me and make matcha tiramisu."
You laugh, drawing back. "That's what this is about? To guilt trip me into making dessert for you?"
"Did it work?"
You think for a moment.
"Get me the ingredients, and I'll see."
He cheers but doesn't fully answer your question until the episode ends when you've bid him goodnight and are about to return to the bedroom.
"You're blurry from far away."
When you look at him, his glasses are gone, tucked under his collar. It's night, but the sky still stares down at you. His usual smile is gone, stretched into a line you can't place.
"I can see down to molecules, atoms. Not you."
You look at him, his eyes. The beautiful curse they are.
You force yourself to take the first step. Then another. Then another. When you're right in front of him, when he's towering over you, you open to your mouth.
"What do you see, Gojo?"
"Everything." He honestly replies.
Everything. Not just cursed energy. Down to cells, molecules, atoms. You can't fathom how much that is, the essence of everything. What's that like? Being able to see the universe so much that it hurts? So much so that it makes him want to wear a blindfold and never see anything again.
But you're blurry. Gojo can't see you the way he sees others.
You reach your hands up slowly like you're approaching a wild animal. In some ways, maybe that's what Gojo is: unpredictable, able to wield the power of space—power that's useless against you.
You cover his eyes. He doesn't stop you.
"What do you see, Satoru?"
He doesn't speak, and you're afraid he's forgotten how.
"Nothing." Quiet, barely more than a whisper.
He slouches ever so slightly, leaning into your hands like some weight's been lifted. It makes you smile.
When you try to pull your hands away, his wrap around your wrist, keeping you there. So you stay—for as long as he wants.
It starts something of a tradition between the two of you. Not every night, not even most nights, but every so often, Satoru would grow quiet, shift in a particular way. You hoped it was therapeutic for him, a break rather than a glimpse of what could have been. You hoped you were helping.
And, if you were torturing him, hopefully, you won't be for long.
"How much longer do you think I have to do this?" You ask.
He hums, clearly not paying attention. You two were in the kitchen, making some sweet he saw trending on the internet. Well, you were doing all the work. Satoru kept trying to steal the batter.
"You know. Sleeping under your roof, eating all your food, stealing you bed." You urge, while whisking.
"You're acting like I've been keeping you in the attic, roomie." Satoru pouts. "C'mon, I haven't been that bad, have I?"
"I'm asking for your sake rather than mine," you tell him. "I'm sure you'll be thrilled to have your house back, and your bed. When will everything settle down?"
His blindfold is on, as it usually is. To help him out, you've taken to wearing squeaky slippers around the house. He'd offered to buy you one of those cat collars with bells. You declined.
He's looking in your direction. You know he can't see you, but you can still feel his eyes on you. It's a strange feeling.
"There's talks of taking down the bounty," Satoru finally says, losing his playful tone, "just rumors, nothing concrete. Worst comes to worst, we'll have to relocate you somewhere overseas."
Yeah, you were worried about that. Leaving everything behind, your home, your friends, your family, because your life was in danger. You hoped it wouldn't have to come to that.
"We have a couple of options, though," Satoru says, "negotiations, for one."
You perk up at that. "Negotiations?" You ask.
He nods. "Right now, you're under my protection. Unofficially. I could pull some strings, get those old geezers at the academy to take you in as some special assistant."
You tilt your head. "Like at the school that you teach, right?"
He nods. "We have a case like yours attending the school, too. I think you and him would get along."
"Your ability could be pretty useful to us. You might even get out in the field every so often." Satoru continues. "A special technique like that would be wasted down here."
Special. He's said that before. You can't remember when, but you know he's right. You're an anomaly, but you can use your abilities for good. But could you really do that? Risk your life every day? Lose pieces of yourself like that?
"I don't really feel special," you say, "I don't want to be special either." You glance at him. "Is that a bad thing?"
Even blindfolded, somehow, his eyes find yours.
"No," he says, no judgment in his voice, "it just makes you human."
Relief. You can feel it sinking through your veins. Part of you feels guilty. Satoru is right; you could do a lot. But you...you don't want to end up like him.
That makes you feel even worse, but then you catch something in his tone.
"You sound like you're not very human," you say back. You're teasing, but it falls flat.
He hums. It's not quite the response you were looking for. It takes a second for him to start up again.
"When I was younger, people used to call me creepy."
You stare at him.
"What?."
He grins, but it's not his usual one.
"It's true." He shrugs. "Mostly, it was 'cause of my eyes. They called them unnerving. Monstrous. My folks were always a creative bunch." He says it so casually, but you can hear the bite on his voice. It's phrased as a joke, but it isn't.
You put down your whisk, giving him your full attention.
"That's not true," you respond, "you know that, right? You aren't a monster. Monsters aren't as kind as you are."
"Oh?" He tilts his head. "Maybe I'm using my kindness as a lure to trap you. Guess you just fell for it, roomie. 'thought you were smarter than that." You roll your eyes.
"Okay, fine, I yield. You're a monster. But out of all the monsters in the world, I'd pick you."
For a moment, there's silence in the kitchen. Then-
"So cheesy!" Satoru laughs. He reaches over, roughly pinching your cheek. "Who knew you could say such cute things, roomie."
You slap his hands away, now extremely annoyed.
"Nevermind. I take it back," you retort. "I'd run away as far as I could from you."
"Good, you should," he replies. "I won't stop you."
You scoff.
"Maybe that's why everyone thought you were creepy." You go back to your whisking. "It's not your eyes, you just say a lot of ominous shit."
Despite how peaceful it is, making desert, cooking, and acting domestic, it can't last forever. The world was still hunting for you, and it had no problems reminding you of that.
One night, you wake up to the sounds of hushed talking.
It's coming from the living room. Multiple voices. Quiet but urgent. You're used to the noise. Satoru has this habit of blasting terrible soap operas at 2 am. You don't think that man sleeps. Over time, you've gotten used to at least one disturbance.
But this feels different. It's enough to rub the sleep out of your eyes, making you pad over to the hall.
They hear you before they see you. Satoru's apartment has creaky floorboards. Ijichi tugs on the collar of his shirt nervously. Ieiri just looks away. Satoru is leaning back against the couch, legs crossed. He's frowning. That's how you know something isn't right.
"Is everything okay?" You ask anyway.
Ijichi gives a tight grin.
"Everything's fine." He's quick to console. "We-we were just-"
"Stop." Satoru immediately cuts in. He's wearing his blindfold. You can't tell what he's thinking.
"We're not hiding it. Everyone involved should know."
Ijichi deflates. You think Ieiri sneers.
Satoru beckons you closer with long fingers. You step forward. They're sitting around a computer. You peek at the screen.
Instantly, you wish you hadn't.
There were pictures of you. Dead. Your body parts were strewn across the floor. Your hands were broken in every other way. Your legs were in pieces. Your head snapped clean off, blood oozing from your appendages like you were just a packet of liquid. One of your eyes was missing from its socket. The other was crushed. But it wasn't you, it was-
"Miyashiro. At least, what's left of him." Satoru gives.
The doppelganger, the guy who was covering for you. He was supposed to be one of their best; what happened to him?
What was going to happen to you?
They're talking again. At least, you think they are. Their words are muffled, filtered through water. You can't make out what anyone is saying. Your heart's beating too fast. It's pounding through your ears. You can only stare at the picture, what was left of him. Someone's touching you. A hand on your back.
"Roomie, hey," Satoru's voice comes.
The pounding stops. You look up at him.
Angelic. It's the only word you could think of. His snow-white hair was pretty, falling elegantly down his face. He'd taken his blindfold off. Blue eyes, sparkling, cleansing. Purifying, like the Ganges river.
How could anyone think a beautiful sight like this was monstrous?
He calls your name, your real name, and you break.
You cling to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. And you're sobbing, tears of everything flowing down your face.
Hands, hesitant, unsure, rest on your back. And then Satoru's holding you as tightly as he can.
He's warm. It's all you can think as you shake in his hold.
He's warm.
"I won't have to worry about that if I just gave in, hm?" You ask.
It was a couple of days later from your episode. Satoru had convinced you to give one of his soap operas a shot. On-screen, a woman slapped her cheating husband.
Satoru was lounging beside you, feet propped up on the coffee table. You want to tell him off, but it's his house.
"If you went to the school, you mean?" He asks. "Probably. You'd be a lot freer. Won't have to sit in a cramped apartment all day. 'sides, jujutsu tech is always on the lookout for fresh talent. The higher-ups would be ecstatic to have someone like you under their thumb."
"But I'd have to become a sorcerer." You say the unspoken.
Gojo nods. "Yeah, you would."
And you don't want that. To face curses, to face death every day. You know you can't handle that. You aren't strong, like Satoru.
"I'm sorry," you say.
He laughs. "For what?"
You shrug as the on-screen couple makes up again. "For being...a coward, I guess."
He thinks for a moment.
"It's not about bravery," he says in the end, "being a sorcerer is just...that. A sorcerer. It's a job. A title. Only a special few can do it. The crazy ones."
His tone gets a bit playful.
"No offense, roomie, but I don't think you got enough crazy in you."
"That's a compliment, actually." You correct. He ignores you.
"'sides, I like you staying here." Satoru declares, stretching his arms out on the couch. "Who'd feed me? It'd be horrible to go back to ramen again."
You roll your eyes. "Right. Who else will wake at 2 am because of your whining to make wagashi?"
"See! You get it!" Satoru grins. You can't force the smile off your face.
The husband's mistress has entered the set. The wife is confident that her husband will choose her. She's left heartbroken all over again. You don't get how she couldn't see it. The red flags were all there, and still, she was left blindsided. Never saw it coming. She trusts too easily, you decided.
"Also, I like having you here," Satoru says.
You glance at him. He's watching the screen.
"It's...nice." He admits after a bit. "To have company like this. It reminds me of back when I was younger. When the two of us lived in the dorms."
When he was a student? Who was he talking about? You don't pry. It's clear he isn't talking to you.
"I'm glad you're here," Satoru says.
Lightly, you bump shoulders with him. Infinity doesn't stop you.
"You're a sweet monster." You tell him.
He gives a secret grin.
Every once in a while, Gojo peeks into the bedroom while you're sleeping.
He's subtle about it, doesn't make too much noise. You're a light sleeper, so it takes little to nothing to wake you up.
He doesn't do anything. He stands there, shuffles here and there, hovering by the foot of the bed. You just pretend to be asleep in those cases, evening out your breaths, closing your eyes. It's always the same. He loiters around for a minute, and then he's shutting the door behind him.
It's strange, but you try not to think too much of it. He was probably looking for something. It's his room after all.
It's just...strange.
You find it when you're looking through his book shelf.
He doesn't have anything interesting to read. It's mainly just historical novels. You're perusing through one before a photograph falls out of the pages.
It's tiny, barely larger than your palm. It only takes a second to realize what you're looking at.
"Found your baby pictures." You gleefully tell Satoru when he comes back.
"What?" He tilts his head; you wave the photo in front of him. When he tries to take it, you pull back.
"Tiny Satoru!" You squeal. "Who knew you were once so small? I always thought you were born six feet over."
It's a simple photograph, a little aged, but still clear. Satoru looks about eight, standing between a man and a woman. His face is eerily blank. He stares with no emotion, not even a smile. He isn't wearing sunglasses or a blindfold. Doll-like blue eyes. You don't feel like you're looking at a child. He's too-
"Are those your parents?" You ask, letting him take the photograph from you.
"No," he says, "my caretakers."
Caretakers. Not nannies, or anything else. It felt so clinical. You lean against his shoulder, still staring at the photograph.
"You look cute." You finally say. When you peak over, a hint of a smile is twitching on his face. "But I totally agree with everyone. You look creepy. Like one of those children from the exorcist. Climbing over the walls."
"I never grew out of that phase." Satoru ponders. You laugh.
"What was it like?" You ask. "You said you're from a clan, right?"
"Exhausting." Satoru groans. "Never a break from training. I should go back and sue my folks for child abuse. I could get millions."
"I could help you with that." You pipe in. "I've never gone to law school, but I feel like I'd make a great lawyer."
"I'll keep that in mind." He promises teasingly before his smile fades.
"But that's the norm for most kids in jujutsu." He sighs. "Gotta' be perfect. Gotta' be the best, right from the beginning. There's a student I know who had a rough start, but she's the best in her class. Her clan didn't care about her potential. Those kids are all scary talented, they just need a bit of nurturing, that's all."
You stare at him. He catches you.
"What?" He asks, before his eyes widen. "Do I have a pimple?"
You shake your head. "For some reason, I feel like that's impossible for you." You tease.
"I'm just admiring you, I think. For being such a kind person."
"I thought we agreed I was a monster." Satoru points out.
This again. You roll your eyes.
"Fine, a good monster." You correct. "A monster, I know."
"The monster you know." He repeats
You want to ask him why he's so insistent on that. For some reason, you hold your voice.
Satoru's apartment had two bathrooms. Lately, the one in the bedroom has had some issues.
It's been awkward lately trying to share the only working bathroom. Satoru and you shower at around the same time, so you've opted to hold back your morning routine a little later. You still manage to catch each other. The amount of times you've accidentally caught him walking around with nothing but a towel around his waist would be too mortifying to admit.
But, so far, it's working. And you can't complain since you at least have one working bathroom. It's the little things.
Tonight, you wake up to your bladder urging you to move. And yet, your body still wants to sleep. You check the time. It's nearly 2 in the morning.
It takes a while to pull yourself up, unraveling yourself from the covers before you're trudging out the bedroom. Satoru's apartment is so dark. It's a completely different look compared to daytime. You feel your way with the walls, letting your eyes adjust to the dark. When you peek over at the living room, Satoru isn't there. He must not be coming home tonight.
The bathroom is shut, but there's a sliver of light bleeding under the door. Fuck, you did not shut the lights off last time. You need to be less careless.
At first, you think Satoru's hurt.
He looks hurt. He's hunched over, shaking shoulders, harsh breathing. You can only see his back, but he looks like he's in agony. You're about to step forward, ask what happened, and then you catch a glimpse of what he's clutching.
Pretty, blue, laced panties.
Your panties.
And you're close enough to hear his voice whispering your name. Over and over again.
"Fuck, fuck, baby, need you, just lemme-just lemme, all mine, all mine-"
He doubles over, tightening his grip on the edge of the sink. Your panties are damp.
You flinch, and in your moment of panic, you step back. Creaky floorboards.
Satoru looks up in the mirror. You don't move.
He takes his time. Placing his phone down. Adjusting his pants, washing his hands. You can only stand there, frozen. Staring. Staring until he's in front of you, looking right back.
You might have forgiven him if he had fumbled, laughed it off, became bashful. A human reaction. His face is eerily blank. He stares with no emotion, not even a smile. His eyes mirror that photograph. Doll-like, absolutely empty.
Monstrous.
Your eyes water. He turns blurry for a second.
Satoru steps aside. You wordlessly enter the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You don't bother locking.
You don't know how long you stay there, quiet, shaking, your mind trying to piece together what you just saw. You stay there for hours. You stay there for seconds. Time stretches on like infinity itself, yet even then, it's too short.
You're alone with him. It's a thought you never even had until now. You're alone with him.
Satoru is outside. You don't look at him, staring at the floor, looking at the carpet, counting each strand. You keep your head down when you return to the bedroom.
He follows. You say nothing. You don't look. You don't look, even when the covers shift and he gets into bed behind you. You don't look, even when there's a hand on your shoulder. You don't look, even when there's a chest pressed against your back.
You shiver, you shake. You don't look. He says nothing, even when you break down completely.
You wake up alone the next morning.
You don't waste a second. You're stumbling through the room, picking up your clothes, packing everything that you need. You're so panicked that you manage to knock over an alarm clock.
It's habit to reach down and pick it up. Learned politeness to scrutinize it to make sure it isn't broken.
A black dot stares back at you.
A camera.
Horrible memories of last night come back. He was watching something on his phone.
You feel nauseous, about to give all over the floor. You need to go. You needed to get out of there.
The apartment is silent, like it always is when Satoru isn't here. You just hadn't noticed how cold it was, lifeless. It makes the pit on your stomach gap. You expect the windows to be bolted shut. They aren't. Sunlight streams through the glass. The front door is unbarred too.
It's easy to leave.
You stop anyway. One question.
Where would you go?
You can't go back home. Miyashiro's body still haunts you. His soul in your body, torn apart with such hatred and vitriol. Those people were still looking for you. The only reason you were still alive was because Miyashiro took your death bed.
You'd die if you went back home.
You can't go to jujutsu tech. You'd be expected to lay down your life, serve a maskless force that pretended to do good. You'd certainly die. Ripped apart by curses.
You'd be slaughtered if you went to the school.
Every route is treacherous, nearly impossible, full of dangers and unknowns.
At least, you know what Satoru wants.
He's made it clear since the beginning. You were just willfully ignorant. Oblivious on purpose. More than happy to ignore the red flags because you knew he was a kind person to his students, ignoring the dichotomy of his actions.
Two things can be right at once.
Satoru won't stop you if you run. He told you that himself. You could leave if you wanted, and he won't follow. But every other path is filled with an intangible value, and Satoru is the monster you know.
Your hand falls away from the doorknob.
You get started on dinner.
You're still there when Satoru comes back. You say nothing. Neither does he. Dinner is a quiet affair. He doesn't talk about his day, he doesn't talk about his students. When you wash the plates, he's quietly standing behind you. When you get out of the shower, he's waiting outside the bathroom.
You can't bring yourself to look at him until you get into bed. Your eyes trail up, past his legs, his shoulders, his neck. Looking into Satoru's crystal blue eyes.
Blank. Numb. Empty.
You think of the cameras. You think of your stolen underwear.
You think of how much his eyes must hurt right then.
You raise one hand out, grasping the sleeve of his shirt. It's barely a tug, but the monster follows like he's weightless, crawling into bed. He's too big to hold properly, but he sinks into your body anyway. His forehead rests against your chest. His eyes close. You don't feel that ice anymore.
“What do you see, Satoru?”
“Nothing.” A pause. A stilted breath.
“Nothing but you.”
He was right in the end. Satoru is a monster. There's no other word that can describe him. Inhuman, far above humanity itself. But he's the monster you'd pick, every single time.
Could I request yandere!Ushijima with breeding kink?
i already have a yan!ushijima with a breeding kink fic in the works rn but... 😏😏😏
warnings: nsfw, yandere, noncon, breeding kink
The first words that came to mind when Ushijima first saw you was "She'd be a good mother." The thought came naturally, and it was a thought that would gradually influence his primal instinct every time he was around you.
You were intimidated by him at first when he approached you, but being as kind as you are, you couldn't just ignore him and his overwhelming presence, so you politely acknowledged his advances.
Now, you can admit that Ushijima isn't the best lover. He's impassive—moments between you two were usually shared in heavy silence. He scolds you and belittles you, as if he's constantly trying to put you in your place and silence you. You're afraid of his wide shoulders, towering height, large palms, hard chest—if he had the chance, you think he'd absolutely beat the shit out of you. You're so scared him, scared of what he's capable of, scared of those piercing eyes, yet you're still here. You're still here.
Maybe if you had left earlier, ignored him, or turned him down when you could, you wouldn't be in this position right now. Why would Ushijima get mad at you over burning dinner? You'd never understand, but Ushijima wants you to act properly. His seed needs to grow in a proper vessel.
He doesn't need to drag you into your bed, large frame easily holding you in place as he tears off your clothes. He doesn't need to spread your legs or take his throbbing cock out. He doesn't need to completely take over your body and force you into a mating press, shoving his cock deep into your aching pussy as he grips onto your thighs with your legs dangling over his shoulders.
But he does. And he doesn't stop.
"You need to learn your place, (Y/N)," he grunts angrily.
You're crying out for him. Toshi! Toshi! Toshi! Your head is spinning wildly as the tip of his cock beats the opening of your cervix and threatens to spill his cum into your womb. "Stop!" you sob, "Toshi, stop!"
"No," he growls, pressing his forehead against yours, "I need to fuck a baby in you."
i just realized that nothing is real so therefore i will not try in life anymore
When he lost to Karasuno, he looks so down so you build up the couragr and cheers him up 😌😏😉😉
OHHHMYGOD YES
based on this post <3
⭒word count; 410
⭒warnings/tags; lingerie, some pda
It didn't matter how hard he tried to hide it; you knew he was upset.
The warmth of the setting sun kissed your exposed legs, a gentle breeze tickling between your thighs as you dug your fingers into the straps of your backpack. Iwaizumi walked you to your front gate as promised, his expression frostier than usual. Despite the faint scowl, he still looked handsome; as if carved from marble, rays of ocher light were delicate on his otherwise roughened features.
Stood in the sunbath, you struggled to find the right words to say.
"H-Hajime-senpai... Um–"
You had something to show him; you read about it in your girls' magazines, stressed over every bubble of text, and memorized the advice written in curly font— Ever since that game against Karasuno, you wanted to show him just how much you cared.
"I wanna help you feel better"
There was a slight blush that crept up to your cheeks when you reached for the hem of your skirt; painted nails grabbing at the pleats, raising the fabric ever-so-slightly above your hip bones. Revealing skin, freshly-smooth, you took your lower lip between your teeth and looked up to meet his softened gaze.
He blinked and swallowed deep, trying his hardest to avoid the precious sight that his innocent, little underclassman presented him with. Your new panties hugged the curves your hips, waistband digging into the plush of your tummy; see-through lace adorned with tiny, pink butterflies, made it obvious that you shaved your cunny just for him.
Leaning forward Iwaizumi brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, breath warm against your neck.
"You did that all for me?"
His voice was nothing more than raspy whisper, serving as a gentle reminder that you had yet to step into the house.
Lowering your skirt, you nodded, doe-eyed and heart aflutter. The magazines said boys liked surprises and you wondered if it were true— Turning your head, you press your glossy lips against his, hands sliding up the expanse of his chest before dainty fingers found themselves in his umber hair. The kiss filled his senses with the sweet, strawberry scent of your perfume; lingering was the delicate taste of cocoa when you pulled away, the gloss from your lips now on his. His olive-green eyes rounded, and he absentmindedly reached for his mouth to wipe away the sticky residue. You giggled and flashed him a toothy smile.
"Are you surprised, Hajime-senpai?"
𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄!
✧.* Cunnilingus, Consensual Somnophilia, Vulgar language, Orgasm, Overstimulation, Vaginal Penetration, Literal Recorded Porn, Mentions of male masturbation,
༊*·˚How Suna, Atsumu, and Oikawa would record you two fucking.
˗ˏˋFeaturing ´ˎ˗ Suna Rintaro, Atsumu Miya, and Oikawa Tooru
༉‧₊˚. His videos are clean, erotic but well thought out- think classic twitter porn. He plans to make a movie with you, ensuring everything is set up before he dives in.
Suna carefully sets his phone up, leaning it against the lamp on your bedside table. He gently slips the sheets and blankets off your naked body before pressing record. Then, careful not to wake you, he parts your thick thighs. He slides onto his stomach, resting your legs on top of his broad shoulders. His movements are slow and methodical, his eyes watching your face for any signs of a reaction. Then, gingerly, he licks a long stripe up your exposed cunt. He groans to himself, the taste of you bursting on his tongue. He can't help but dive in all at once, a sudden burst of desperation hitting him like a semi-truck. His grip on your thighs tightens, then he's lapping at your cunt feverishly. He's so focused, so lost in the taste of you that he doesn't even realize you've woken up until your manicured hands are buried in his hair, tugging on the thick locks of his hair. He groans again, his lust clouded eyes meeting your own while his warm tongue is circling your sensitive clit. You throw your head back, tears clouding your vision when two of his long fingers are suddenly pounding into your gummy cunt. Your orgasm is fast-approaching, pleasure sweeping your entire body. Your back arches off the mattress, eyes rolling back, your mouth hung open in a silent moan as you come undone. A familiar feeling of euphoria knocks you senseless as you twitch in his hold, his soft lips pressing kisses to your thighs in an attempt to ground you.
༉‧₊˚. His videos are a stark contrast to Suna's. His are a heat-of-the-moment ordeal. He decides halfway through fucking you that he needs to remember this night specifically, so he's got to record it. It's messy, and hot, and so erotic.
You feel like you're out of your own body, exhaustion and pleasure leaving your mind completely blank. Atsumu has your legs swung over his hips, his thick cock pounding into your weeping cunny so passionately it has you seeing stars. Your pretty nails dig into the muscles of his back, clinging to him so desperately. Shiny tears slip down your cheeks, pretty moans of ecstasy spilling from between your swollen lips. " Lookin' so damn pretty Baby-fuck! Hold on Doll." He grunts, his grip slipping from your hips as he reaches for his phone; opening up his camera, he presses the red 'record' button before panning the phone over to you. He holds your hip with one hand, the other holding his phone up to record you in all your glory. "Fuckkk Baby.. You're so fucking sexy Doll." He starts thrusting into you again, focusing the camera on where his fat cock is pounding into your creamy pussy. He groans, sliding the view up to your fucked out face, mascara running down your plump cheeks, mouth hung open in a moan. He's totally gonna jack to this later, when he's away at a game.
༉‧₊˚. He likes to video you on special occasions. For example, when you dress up in lacey lingerie for his birthday. Thinks you look so pretty like this, and it makes him feel like he's on top of the world.
Oikawa has his phone propped up against your abandoned wine glass on the bed side table, angled to face the two of you. His phone records as you bounce on his lap, loud squelching sounds and the smell of sex permeating the bedroom. His hands rest on your hips helping you lift yourself on and off his thick cock. The white lingerie you had picked out for this occasion decorated your perfect body, he insisted he fuck you in it. Your head was thrown back in pleasure, your right hand buried in his fluffy locks of hair, the other thrown lazily over his shoulder. His head was buried in your neck, his plump lips leaving hickies all over your neck, collarbones, and chest. He groaned between his love bites, obsessed with every part of you. "You're so pretty f'me Baby. Love you so damn much Baby Girl." Your mind is fuzzy the romantic sex leaving you dizzy and gasping for air. The thought of this all being recorded for his solo rendezvous made you inexplicably turned on. You hope he likes it. <3
I guess you fell in to the wrong hands
Bonten trio x Detective! Reader
༄ Sanzu x reader, Ran x reader, Rindo x reader
One wrong move lands you in the back of Bonten's limousine, at the mercy of the very gangsters you were chasing.
ㅤ— Warnings. AFAB reader, NONCON to DUBCON to NONCON again, noncon creampie, oral (m. & f. Receiving), rough sex, forced breeding, blindfold, bondage, gun play, throat fucking, degradation, edging, dacryphilia, overstimulation, cervix kissing, choking, tummy bulge, foursome lmao, praise, facial, mindbreak, mean Sanzu and Rindo :(
ㅤ— WC. 3.8k (I think I got carried away)
ㅤ— minors don't interact. This work contains dark content, please heed all the warnings before proceeding.
ㅤ— Note. This is my first time writing DC lmao. And they've a limousine because I said so.
#tags. @festive @s-zu @poisanous @manjiken @bbytamaki
Reblogs and interactions are appreciated!
To say that the mission had gone wrong would be an understatement because this is the worst possible outcome.
"Cat got your tongue?" A large hand fists your hair and you've to crane your head back to minimise the sting,"C'mon, Detective." The tape around your lips is snatched free, a hiss leaving your now free mouth. As soon as you part your lips, the nozzle of a gun is pressed up cold under your chin,"Scream n' I blow your brains out." The man- Rindo, warns. Your jaw clenched tightly, fists balled up behind your back with Rindo's tie binding your wrists. Your knees ached from kneeling on the floor of what looked to be the back of their limousine.
Rindo harshly claims your lips, pushing away whatever thoughts you were having. His hand cups the back of your head, making you unable to break the kiss. So, you bite down on his lip. Hard. The action has him reeling back with a grunt, red tainting his lips and purple locks swaying. A gun pokes at your temple,"Ran," The gun eases up but is still present,"It's alright." Wiping away the blood with his thumb, Rindo stares down at you,"I like 'em a bit feisty."
"You're lucky he's in the mood to play." Blue eyes blink up at you, a smirk pulling at the twin scars on his lips,"Or you'd already have a bullet in your head."
The clank of a belt pulls your attention in front. Rindo fists his cock, rubbing the tip on your lips,"No biting." Ran presses his finger on the trigger for assertion. Lips pressed tightly, you refused to give in. His fingers pinched your nose, having your jaw fall in reflex to gather oxygen. His brother shoved his cock in your mouth with a chuckle. Rindo gasped as he felt how warm your mouth is around him, eyes closing with a content sigh,"Oh Detective, yer' s'good at this." He's bucking his hips into your face and manoeuvering your head to meet his movements simultaneously. Your eye twitched in indignation, teeth threatening to scrape at his veiny length but the gun his brother held made you drop that plan.
Rindo, meanwhile, is ecstatic. Seeing the funky little detective on her knees in front of him and sucking on his dick just made him throb. You'd been such a difficult one, throwing a good fight, he's got a nasty bruise on his abdomen, just under his ribs to prove that. But fucking your mouth like this is worth it,"Fuck-" Fingers tighten around your hair when he hits the back of your throat. A choked moan breaks through your occupied mouth, muffled but managing to make Sanzu and Ran's pants tight nonetheless.
"Ngh, not gonna last long." Purple hair sticks to his forehead as he grits out in between groans. His thrusts become erratic, fucking your face roughly till spurts of hot cum fills your mouth. Rindo holds your head down on his dick,"Swallow." And he doesn't let go till he feels you gulp around his cock. Shamefully, you feel your panties dampen from having your throat fucked so roughly.
A moan slipping past his lips as he pulls out. You're leaning forward, lungs pumping in much needed air before a hand grabs your jaw and pulls your face up. A pair of lips crash on yours. Tongue intruding your mouth to savour what's left of Rindo's taste.
Eyes screwed shut, you try to stay still as the wet muscle roams your cavern, jaw aching in his grip. A few long seconds later, when he pulls away you lock eyes with erratic blue ones. Sanzu smirks down at you,"You taste like him."
Rindo scoffs and you can detect a playful tone in the sound. You're suddenly pushed forward by a hand pressing on your shoulder. Face tumbling between the pink haired man's thighs, you feel someone grop your ass,"Just unwrap her already."
Ran laughs, a breathy sound which you hate to admit made your pussy clench. Panic kicks in when your pants are yanked down all the way before deft fingers danced at the hem of your panties,"Hm? You're wet?" The pad of his finger slides over the wet patch of your underwear, pressing teasingly. Shaking your head, you pant heavily, resting your cheek on Sanzu's thigh. The said man chuckled,"Then how 'bout this?" Cupping your cheeks he tilts your face up to meet his gaze,"We play a game and if you win, we let ya' go."
Head dizzy from the harsh treatment from the younger Haitani, you don't think twice before agreeing. Without listening to the wager. Cursing yourself a few moments later as you lay on one of the seats of the long car, hands tied up with Rindo's belt now, readjusted above your head. Rindo's tie serving as a makeshift blindfold around your eyes while the cold nozzle of a gun trailed down your skin, clothes laying on the floor.
A whimper escapes you when the gun digs into your cheek. Ran's condescending coo echoing near your ear. The nozzle is soon nudging your lips before gliding past with aid of the drool glistening on them, courtesy of Rindo. The gun fucked your mouth, soaking the metal in your spit before pulling away,"Who was that, Detective?" Rindo's voice is a distant purr, probably because he's draped on the opposite seat. Biting your lip, you ponder a bit,"Ran."
"Wrong." You can hear the smugness in Rindo's voice but your angry train of thoughts are cut short when the gun is back on your skin. The wet nozzle is cold on your torso, trailing down your stomach before teasingly pressing against your panties. Your knees are torn open to allow the gun to continue on its path. A finger pushed your soaked panties to the side, dragging the nozzle on your slit. You gasp, breathless at the contact. A yelp tears through your mouth when the gun pushes past your entrance, your warm walls clamping around the cold metal,"Oh, look how you're ruining the gun." Sanzu rasps, entranced by the way the gun is coated in your juices as it's pulled out before slamming in roughly. Your pathetic moans embarrass you while they only aided in arousing the lurching men in the car.
The filthy scene of having a gangster's gun bullying into your pussy and oh- the went sounds that keep flooding in, you can't help but moan. Biting your lip, you try to subdue the sounds but it's so difficult when the hard weapon is thrusting inside you so harshly. Your toes curl and hips twitch as you near an unexpected, unwanted orgasm. But just as your walls clench, the gun's gone. Taunting chuckles erupt around the space before Rindo asks,"Who just fucked your slutty cunt with the gun?"
The ruined orgasm spiked irritation in your veins. Through the haze, you tried to think. When Ran spoke, it was Sanzu. So this time it must be,"Ran."
"You seem to want my brother an awful lot, Detective." Rindo clicks his tongue,"Sanzu, why don't ya' show her who just fucked her with the gun?"
A drop of perspiration trickling down your neck, the wager was, the winner gets whatever they want. Naoto had warned you that a single slip up can prove to be life threatening. That these were very dangerous people. But now that you're here, under their prying eyes, your body's second guessing if you wanna leave. Or maybe it's just your arousal talking.
Your closing legs are spread open by a gentle palm,"Before you ruin her, I'mma have a taste." Ran husks, lips pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh.
Your blindfold is yanked down, the tie loosely pooling around your neck as Sanzu filled your vision. His mouth falling on your tits, sucking and teasing the hard buds,"You'll watch." Sanzu mumbles into your skin,"You'll watch everything we do." A hand squeezes your plump flesh harshly to accentuate his words.
The short purple haired man in turn settles between your legs. Tongue pressed flat on your clit, he hums,"S'sweet." A wet suckling had blood pooling at your cheeks,"You're getting off on this, eh?" Rindo leans forward and smirks at your half lidded eyes. A far way from the prestigious officer of law who had kicked him not even an hour ago. Your tummy flutters, the metaphorical coil tightening at his jeers. Your tied wrists are held in position by Sanzu's huge hand, discouraging any movement.
Light pink strands dragged along the valley of your breasts with Sanzu coating your nipples with his spit and biting. Your shoulders roll in the testament of pain but the jolts of pleasure from your pussy makes your back arch. You could feel Sanzu smirk against your skin but you're too busy whimpering for them to form a retort.
Ran moans as he swipes his tongue across your slit, dipping the tip in between your warm folds. His purple hair brushes soft between your thighs when he buries his face into your cunt. Nails digging into your palms, you try to bite back on your moans but Sanzu and Ran's mouths on your skin made it difficult. Your eyes squeeze shut as Ran's nose nudges against the hood of your clit. Lilac eyes watch you gush on the older Haitani's tongue, who devours you with loud slurping noises.
"'Nough now." Legs shaking as you pant breathless, coming down from the high while Sanzu pushed Ran away from you,"Gunna' show this bitch that yer' too soft to fuck her with a gun," A hasty rustle is heard with Ran's chuckle just before Sanzu smears the tip of his cock against your glistening pussy lips,"Like I did." He's bottoming out in a hard flick, uncaring about the scream that you let out as he stretched your walls without any real prep,"Oh- oh fuck," Digging tiny crescents on your thighs, he grips them unceremoniously. It burned, hurt but your body welcomed the pain, your mind reeling from the overwhelming sensation.
Your hands rose in protest, to push away at his chest but Ran's long fingers caught them, shoving them back on top of your head. With a smirk, he watched you struggle against their hold. His large hand draped over your mouth to subdue your screams,"Shhh," Soft lips press to your temple, a seemingly soft gesture but you should know better.
"Look a'her. She's still got some fight left in her." Rindo muses, resting his elbows on his knees. Sanzu pulls out all the way just to slam his cock back in,"Guess I'll just have to fuck the fight outta her then." Deep grunts rattle his chest as he feels your pussy wrap tightly around his length,"Ah you're s'fucking tight," The criminal moans above you, fucking you like a wild animal,"This is the best pussy I've ever had mhn," He's gulping when you thrash under him. The sadistic glint in his blue eyes has you whimpering and his cock bullying into your overestimated cunt wasn't helping,"Please," You beg,"'tis too much- ah!" Sanzu's hands press your knees up to your chest, folding you in half to go deeper. The new angle pulled shrill cries from your throat because his tip was knocking at your cervix,"Sanzu!" Tears streaming down your eyes, you plea for mercy but the man above you has this twisted grin, fucking you harder,"Haru." Ran coos, trailing his index finger down your cheek, a deep satiated sparkle in his beautiful purple orbs,"Call him Haru."
Lower lip trembling, you do as advised, his name rolling sweetly on your tongue. His jaw clenches taut,"Fuck," His name sounds so tempting laced in your voice,"Haru, Haru, Haru-" You choke up, stumbling his name in a prayer as your cunt spasms around his dick. Yet he still drills into your ever tightening hole with vigour, fucking you through your unwanted orgasm. Thrusts grew erratic as he neared his release, muttering curses under his breath,"Not inside her." Hesitantly, he pulled out his cock at Rindo's order, fist wrapping around the head to jerk ferociously,"Not yet at least." The hint at the unsaid words made him smirk through his high, releasing ropes of white semen on your cunt and thighs,"Oh, look at this," Sanzu laughs, exchanging places with Ran to grip a handful of your hair,"Made such a mess on my cock," Manoeuvering your face to the side, he's pressing his cock against your lips,"Clean it up, whore."
Ran grabs your boobs, squeezing the soft plush before humping his cock head on your entrance,"You ready for me, doll?" He's nicer than the other two in slowly pumping his cock inside your hole, giving you time to adjust while Sanzu's cock lay heavy on your tongue,"Use that tongue," He yanks at your hair harshly,"Fucking do it, slut." Swirling your tongue around his glistening cock, you wince at the mixture of your and his taste,"Oh, just like that, ah." His groans made you clench around Ran's dick and he laughed,"For someone who's an officer of law, you sure seem to enjoy being fucked by criminals." He rocks against your abused cunt a little, testing if the aftershocks of your previous high has subdued. You moan softly around Sanzu's cock and he's pulling out to not overestimate himself,"Maybe we should take her to Mikey."
"D'ya think of anything other than Mikey?" Ran grunts, teasing the man with scars but there's a hint of frustration in his tone.
A hand slithers around your neck, fingers pressing against the air columns dangerously,"Eyes on me now, dollface." The sickly sweet smile on his lips, a sharp contrast to his malicious gaze. One deep thrust and your head is thrown back, toes curling in from how deep he is inside you,"Still so tight," He's longer than Sanzu, filling you so nicely that you don't even remember why you were fighting against them,"Even after Haru fucked you, hm?" Ran moans and the sound made your pussy clench,"Looks like I'll just have to fuck you better, yeah?" You're heaving shallow puffs of hot breath, too lost to answer. But the question wasn't meant for you because Ran's eyes flicked to meet the other man's blue ones who scoffed at the words.
"Wow." Rindo's voice snaps the men from their stare. He moves, leering over your body beside Sanzu in an instant while you squirm under his brother. Following his brother's gaze, Ran's eyes land on your form, whistling once he noticed the outline of his cock under the skin of your belly,"Holy shit," Sanu smirks at the sight as Rindo presses his warm palm down on the bulge. Ran stills inside you, gripping your hips tightly to avoid cumming right there like a damn teenager. You though, are wailing from the slight pain,"Please, Ran,"
The men smirk, you finally fell for Ran's trick,"As you wish, my pretty doll." Pulling you up by the grip he had on your throat, his mouth clashes against yours. His tongue picks up hits of your sweet taste on your tongue mixed with Sanzu's. Pulling you on his lap as he sits back on the seat, Ran moves your body on his dick with ease, your smaller frame just acting the purpose of a rag doll for his pleasure. Your bound wrists rested behind his shoulders, arms around his neck as you kissed him back,"She sure likes you, Ran." Sanzu snickers, palm striking at your ass hard. You cry into the kiss from the impact,"Shh," A buck of his hips up to yours had you falling back into moans for him,"I got you."
A thumb prods at the tight puckered hole,"No!" Ran is quick to shush you,"It's alright," His hand gently cages your breasts. Sanzu snickers behind you,"We don't have lube anyway." One last slap on your stinging ass and you're pressing harder against Ran's body. Trailing his fingers down your curves, he drapes his palm on the small of your back. Purple orbs urge you to ride him at your pace,"Such a good doll for me," He smirks when you pump yourself full of his cock with each thrust,"Doing s'good for me, hm?" The hand on your breast is busy teasing the nipple, his mouth paying attention to the other,"Ran," You sultry moan would've shocked you if you were in the right state of mind,"Gonna cum,"
"Then go ahead n' cream on my cock, doll." His sweet tone is triumphed by his brother's biting one. Rindo's hand wraps around your neck as it slides around your shoulder,"Moaning like a whore for my brother."
Ran's chuckle fans breezy on your breast, his lips still wrapped around your nipple as he feels you clench around his cock at his brother's harsh words,"Fucking cum on his cock, slut." Rindo snaked his other hand around your waist, fingers finding your puffy clit, pinching roughly. Your nails dug on his brother's shoulders, a wail dragging on your tongue as your orgasm ripped through every fiber of your body,"Oh- oh fuck," Ran held your hips, moving them to ride you through your high before he's pulling you off his throbbing cock. Rindo pushes you down on your knees, in between Ran's legs, hand holding your jaw up to face his older brother,"Tongue out." Dizzy and tired, your mouth falls open, tongue drooling on your lower lip. Your eyes focus on Ran's face, brows furrowed in pleasure and mouth forming a small 'O'. His hand fisted his cock, jerking faster till he's cumming with a moan, thick spurts of cum shooting on face, falling on your tongue and on your cheeks.
"What a messy slut you are, Detective L/N." Rindo turns your face to his. Smirking sadistically when he notices the lost look in your eyes. His thumb pushes the bit of cum at the corner of your lips inside your mouth,"Maybe I should fuck you like you deserve." You're pushed down on the floor of the car, face flush against the carpet, ass raised.
Rindo smacks your ass before thrusting his dick inside your used pussy,"Still tight, ah-" He chokes up on his groan as he buries balls deep in your cunt,"We should keep her." You recognize Sanzu's voice barely above your own moans,"She's already ours,"Aren't ya', doll?" You're too dumb to do anything but moan with Rindo fucking you into the floor. A hand gripping tight on your hair yanked you up to face Ran's devilishly handsome face,"Answer him, whore."
Tears slip down your cheeks, mingling with Ran's sticky cum at the jolts of pain at your scalp. The Haitani knelt in front of you, taking your burning face in his huge palms,"You belong to us now." Thumb pressing on your lower lip, he pulled your mouth open. His brother's hips slammed into yours with such force that your body shuddered, eyelids dropping heavy. A hot globe of wetness hit your tongue with a 'putah'.
Fingers pressed into your cheeks, near the corners of your mouth to push your mouth close,"Got it?" You saw the darkness in his eyes as you swallow his spit. Managing out a mushed "yes" Between moans, you try to hold yourself up on shaky arms. Your knees scraped on the carpet with each ruthless thrust from Rindo. You're nearing another orgasm even after the ones you just had.
Rindo's fingers tangle in your strands, pulling hard to make you cry out,"That's it, whore." Ran's hand is around your throat now, tight and unyielding,"I can feel you clamping down on me. You're about to cum, aren't you?"
"Again?" Sanzu sneers, grabbing your cheek to hurl you towards him. Tilting his head to kiss your mouth, he groans upon catching a taste of Ran,"What a pathetic slut."
Rindo is grunting, purple and black strands falling in front of his eyes as he nears his own precipice,"Maybe I should cum inside you, a gift from Bonten." Eyes shooting wide open, you struggle under the three men's hold but to no avail,"Please, no-" Ran is pressing his lips to the shell of your ear,"Shh, it's alright," He's hushing you down but you don't fall for it this time,"No, anything but that, please Rindo- oh!" A hand sneaked around to play with your clit,"Won't you be a good girl for me, doll?"
Sanzu scoffs in mockery,"She's not your good girl, Ran." Digging his fingers in your cheeks, he spits in your mouth,"She's our dirty whore," Icy blue eyes observe as you gulp down his gift in a panicked frenzy,"Right, Rin?"
"Yeah," Said man growls, pressing the pads of his fingers on your clit, rubbing tight circles to pull sweet sounds from your unwilling lips,"Fuck, you're clenching me s'tightly, fuck." You try to beg him but his cock hitting that spot inside you again and again had your vision spotting and mind going blank,"Fucking stop complaining and take what I'm giving ya'."
Your head falls forward in Sanzu's hands as Rindo's thrusts tip you over the edge. You recognize his distant grunts through the ringing in your ears,"Cumming-" Panic blooms in your chest again once you hear his words,"No, please, not inside!" Sanzu claims your noisy mouth, muffling all complains,"Fucking take it, detective." Rindo's voice breaks as he starts cumming, painting your walls white,"Take it all," He's pumping inside you with sloppy thrusts. You sob against Sanzu's mouth, his tongue assaulting your mouth.
"I think she did pretty well." Ran chirps,"Took all three of us like a good doll." You collapse on his lap, his thigh pillowing your head. His fingers move the locks of hair sticking to your sweaty forehead and something that seemed to be akin to adoration in his eyes.
Two fingers are plugged in your soiled cunt after Rindo pulled out his softening cock,"Couldn't have you wasting your parting gift, now, can we?" He's gathering the drops of his cum trickling down your thighs and pushing them in your fluttering pussy,"What a greedy fucking whore." Sanzu whistles when you moan at the feel of Rindo's fingers thrusting slowly inside your hole,"What would your partner say if he saw you like this, being our cumdump, huh?" Your glassy eyes and trembling lips only made the younger Haitani chuckle.
"Who am I kidding, you're already ours."
2021 © all content belongs to ambrodias. Do not repost my work anywhere.
kenma IS a twink. but hes my twink <333
anywayss love the idea, fairyyyyy. i adore your juicy big brain
tw incest, voyeurism, dubcon, virg!kuroo can’t catch a fucking break I wanna keep writing this but it’ll have to be in a different ask
wc. 1.9k
kozume kenma x fem!reader x kuroo tetsuro
“It’s really not a big deal,” Kenma assures him again as he forces his normally blank face to show an ounce of understanding, something like a smile painted on his lips. “She won’t mind.” His long, slender fingers wrap around the door handle to push down without knocking — shoving the door to swing wide with a clean arc and reveal the slightly messy, but clean, fresh room. It isn’t obvious upon first glance that a girl lives here. At least not in the overtly girly way, a far cry from all the frilly, pink overly curated rooms he imagined being invited into when he was a teen boy in the midsts of high school.
This is the room of someone a little more grown, with books and candles and pillows with blankets stacked upon an overly thick mattress. A bed you’re sat on the edge of, scrolling through your song playlist when they barge in and your head snaps over your shoulder to make you put on a pout. “Niichan, don’t just come in! Knock first! I ask you a million times,” you snap, putting the phone down to let your gaze shift to the taller man by his side.
Kuroo’s eyes can’t help but slip down the thin camisole you’re wearing, plain undies and exposed legs as you uncross them. You’ve got the overly girly thing down in the way you lean onto one arm though, and the way your lips jutt out do something weird to the base of his skull. Tickle, send heat downward. “I could be naked, niisan.” You say it pointedly, stare at Kenma a bit longer than is necessary.
Something unspoken sits in his friend’s eyes.
After a moment, you push yourself up more to raise your eyebrows and turn your chest to face them both. And your big brother messily scratches under the tiny ponytail that’s tied in his hair, before going to sit on the other side of your bed. “Kuroo has something he wants to ask you.”
His tongue sits too fat in his own mouth. Your pretty eyes flick up to his where he still stands in the doorway, and instead of dismissing them both like he kind of expects you to, you turn around completely and put both feet out onto the bed so your toes basically brush Kenma’s thigh. Who absentmindedly strokes your shin as cat-like eyes point up. Kuroo’s always been pretty easy to get along with, talkative enough to do it for the both of them. A natural way with people, or something.
This is entirely different. Here, he’s made a spectacle, two matching gazes studying him as he tries to chuckle. He’s eyed down as he walks three big steps forward to reach the bed, and slowly lets himself sink into the plush covers too.
He wasn’t always crushing on you like he is now. You were a bit of a little tike when he was still in high school, ran too hot for proper girly clothes and liked sitting in your pjs on the couch as they gamed. It’s entirely different now that you’ve been away a few years from college and walk around the shared apartment in shirts that barely cover your ass when you make breakfast. Hickeys blooming all over your throat and collar and up your thighs that he always ends up catching a glimpse of when you bend at the waist and your skirts slide up enough to reveal the curve of your ass.
He was sure it wouldn’t bother him as much to live with a girl. It’s different for your brother. He doesn’t have to notice. To Kuroo, you’re not any girl, and the way your tits rise and fall in those stupid little things you wear is making it too hard. Him, too hard, too.
As he chews on his words trying to find the right ones, you lull your head to the side cutely.
“Come out with it already, you two perverts.” You don’t mean it judging by the mirth in your eyes, but it still makes him fluster. Can’t help himself, giving Kenma a desperate glance to please help him out. You click your tongue. “Seriously… I was just about to go to bed.”
Kenma’s thin brows furrow slightly. “You can rub your little pussy later, can’t you?”
He almost chokes on his spit. The heat burns up his neck as he watches how Kenma wraps a hand around your wrist to keep you in place, and your mouth drops open. That’s not— he wasn’t gonna— your reaction baffles him too. Instead of getting ashamed at having your sexual proclivities discussed by your brother, you only give him a little sneer, and grab his wrist back so you’re both clinging to each other. There’s a little glitter in your eyes when you pout, then get onto your knees to get a bit closer to your big brother.
Close enough to lift yourself over him and straddle his lap. “Don’t be a pervert in front of your friend, nii—chan.” You chastise, but in a soft admittance sort of way that doesn’t sound all that sorry, or apologetic. “Don’t talk about my pussy either.”
“It’s fine.” You get so close that Kenma has to let go of your arm to instead wrap both arms around the small of your waist as he gets nose to nose with you — and Kuroo admittedly struggles to process anything. Your ass is planted right on Kenma’s lap who’s only wearing some boxers, and if it was him… he can’t think too hard about if it was him because he can feel himself start to stir in his own sweats. Kenma basically brushes lips with yours, before he straightens up to pull you closer. “Why do you think I’m here?”
“You,” your breathing hitches, and now your cheeks start getting hot when Kenma moves below you, “you haven’t told me yet.” Moves- below you? Yeah, Kuroo’s sure he can see Kenma roll his hips against your barely clad body. What the fuck. “Stop doing that.” You’re whining, and looking away from them both, before Kenma casts a glance over your shoulder to watch his friend. First Kuroo, and then the way he’s very uncomfortably trying to hide his chubbing cock by planting his hand in front of it into the blankets.
“Aren’t you gonna ask her?” Kenma asks. Hands sliding lower to grip both sides of the meat of your ass, obviously squeezing his fingers into it.
“Yeah- I- I uhm,” you make an effort to look back at him, so sweet, polite, but his attention is dragged to the way your panties are pulling around the globes of your ass and he swears he can see a wet patch starting to stain your undies where they cling to your pussy. And he’s really trying so hard, “Kenma thought -Kenma thought that I should ask you if you want- or not want-” Sweat prickles at his collar, as he stares resolutely into your pretty eyes and nowhere else.
“What he meant to ask,” Kenma helps out, hiking you up a little higher to basically press his cheek to yours when he places his chin on your shoulder, “-and stop grinding for a second- he’s already noticed you’re a bit of a sex fiend. Keep having your brains fucked out and moan like a whore through the walls and it’s keeping him up.”
Your face scrunches like you’re being treated entirely unfairly, a look shooting to your brother out of the corner of your eyes— but he refuses to let you go. “What the hell, niichan… you’re such a- you’re so mean, you freak.” Your eyes go all big and teary and flustered when you catch Tetsuro’s, and the way you stare at him with a mix of embarrassment and guilt is hot too. He’s not sure what’s happening. These last five minutes have been a blur. Why are you in Kenma’s lap in the first place? “D’you just bring Kuroo here to embarrass me or what?” You ask, voice pinched.
“-That’s not it, I swear.” Kuroo quickly chants, reaches out to grab your balled hand to rub a comforting hand over it. He lets go quick enough not to be overstepping, he hopes. He wants you to like him, if anything. Wasn’t that why Kenma dragged him here? “Don’t cry, please. You know Kenma doesn’t mean it.”
Kenma looks barely bothered at your distress, but does place a quick kiss on your neck and your collarbone. “We can tell him the whole truth now, I think.”
Kuroo watches how you push yourself back against Kenma’s face with two hands and drop back into the bed, thighs spread and wet, sticky panties clinging to your folds exactly like he imagined, and it makes his cock twitch. Hard cock, annoyingly pressing against the fabric of his boxers and feeling so fucking obvious in his sweats. It doesn’t really register that well that you’re wet from rubbing yourself in your big brother’s lap, only that you look weirdly adorable sucking up your tears to grimace. “I’m not telling anyone anything.”
Kenma’s hard too. He only notices it because Kenma doesn’t make any attempt to hide the way he shifts himself up in his boxers and stares you down too, eyes lingering on the way your tits rise and fall as you breathe. “You’re cute,” he adds, before eyeing Kuroo. It’s about just as embarrassing to be caught staring by him, as how his cock twitches again at the way you mewl at the praise. What the fuck is happening? Kenma’s smile when he glances back down at you is so sickeningly sweet and genuine, trailing fingers over your panties and sliding the camisole up to reveal more marks. “Y’see, Kuroo, my little sister isn’t actually some slut. These are mine.”
The room feels much too tight for three people to fit.
“When she’s moaning like that, that’s because I’m fucking her good, like she wants. Begs for it.” You look away embarrassed, place both hands on your face as you place a foot on Kenma’s hip and push a little, and your big brother grabs your ankle to push your knee back to your chest. “Don’t get so shy. I’m right.”
“Tetsuro didn’t know that though,” he wants to melt at the way you say his name. “Don’t be so casual about it. Pervert.”
“He doesn’t care.” Kenma assures back, and Kuroo suddenly feels like he needs to prove different. He stands from the bed to stare at you both, but that’s about as far as he gets. He’s so hard, and gobsmacked, and he feels like he might pass out from the heat that’s running through him. “He came in here to ask you to fuck him too, you know. That’s why he’s hard. Got hard thinking of your little, sweet, brotherfucking pussy.” Kenma’s only adding oil to the fire when he rubs his fingers through the mess hidden by your slicked undies, and making you shudder.
Your eyes find his again, now upside down from the way you’re leaned back in bed. “You’re quiet, Tetsuro.” You’re not nearly as shocked by Kenma’s statements as he expects you to be, so it must not be new. Fuck, how long have you two been doing this? Every time he heard you mewling whispers through the wall, moaning and the bed creak, stroking his cock in a cold sweat… wishing it was him. He barely mustered up the courage to ask, when Kenma cornered him about his crush.
Your mouth’s so pretty when you form the sounds of his name. “What do you want to do, Tetsuro?”