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atsumu’s not going to college.

it’s not what he wants, and it’s not a requirement for his plans for the future. he has a one track road set for going pro in the volleyball industry, and he has no plans for detours slowing him down.

that was always “the plan”, and you were not part of it — you were always going to college, and you were going to spend the full time there making sure your future’s on the right track.

that’s why he broke up with you.

the two years he spent with you throughout high school gone down the drain the second he decided this would be better for him — and he feels like he’s wrong, because he still checks on you when you’re not looking — but atsumu’s dead set on the fact that he’ll only slow you down if he kept you with him.

or so, until now.

“atsumu, it’s two in the morning.” you tell him, your yawns coming in a drip drop motion as you try to understand what he’s doing in front of you right now.

it’s been two weeks since you last saw him — two weeks since the breakup — two weeks of no calls, texts or even acknowledgements from in between classes or study halls.

but now he’s here, standing on your doorstep, and you’re not really sure if you want him to be.

atsumu tells you, “i have a solution.”

“it’s two in the morning.” you remind him again.

and he only repeats, “i have a solution.”

your eyebrows furrow, “do you want to come inside?”

“no,” he shakes his head, his nose red from the cold, and he tells you, “you have to listen to me.”

you bring your arms up to your chest, not feeling so warm yourself, and you hate that he chose to do on the coldest night of the month.

you tell him, “i can listen to you inside.”

and he only replies, “i have a solution.

and you frown, “so we’re not going inside.”

you have no idea what he’s talking about, all you know is that you’re still upset with him for ghosting you right after breaking up with you, and you’re not sure if you’re ready to forgive him for that yet.

you sigh, “why are you here?”

and he nods, “because i can get a job — i’ll work on the volleyball thing most hours of the day — but whenever i’m free, i can take shifts in the local café near your campus.”

you cut him off, “wait — my campus?”

“yeah,” atsumu nods, “i checked, and they have an opening and i can totally get a job there.”

atsumu? with a job? at a cafe? you can’t even put it to words, but you’re unsure when he visited your campus, unsure why he’s even doing all this in the first place.

“a job?” you raise a brow, “why do you need a job?”

atsumu ignores your question, shivering as the cold hits him, his breath turning white as it leaves his mouth, and he continues, in a frantic fit, “i have a car, it’s for my 20th birthday but my dad agreed he can give it to me early — and i have a lot saved up so there’s that for an apartment too.”

you’ve never seen atsumu be so nervous, you’ve seen him before his games and after his losses, but he’s never looked like this — never looked so worried.

“slow down.” you break through his endless string of sentences, your eyebrows furrowing as you’re still so confused and lost of what’s going on, and you say, “it’s two am.”

atsumu doesn’t respond.

you touch his arm, “have you slept?”

he feels silly — this is the first time you’ve seen him in two weeks and he must look insane to you already. he doesn’t care, he’s tired, he misses you, he’s been missing you for two weeks, and he hasn’t stopped.

atsumu looks at you, “i don’t want to break up with you.”

you stare back at him, blinking profusely as if trying to make of the situation, and your heart softens as easily as it leaps — because you didn’t want to break up with him either.

he still looks frantic, like he’s a second away to pull his hair out, and you’d offer to let him inside the house one more time, but you’ve got a strong feeling that he’d just say no again.

“i have the place, the car, the job — you have college and i’ll have my volleyball — and i know this isn’t what we planned, but i have the solution and i really think we can make this work.” atsumu tells you all of this, a straight (frantic) tone coming through his words, he catches his breath, and he’s ready to talk to you again.

but your eyes are gentle, “what are you talking about?”

he looks at you, like he’s nervous to be looking at you, a huge lump in his throat the he needs to be swallowing down soon since he’s gone too long without speaking — and he’s nervous, because this situation earns him every right to be nervous.

he’s only 20, unsure of every decision he’s making towards his future, but he’s just spent the last two weeks without you, and the first real thing he’s realized is that there’d be nothing worse than that.

the night is cold.

atsumu stares, “will you marry me?”

CHARACTERS. hanma, ran, izana

AUTHOR’S NOTE. a cherry chaser is someone who pines after someone’s virginity. first time writing for izana!! let me know how you feel about it :-) 19 and below, ageless, and blank blogs DNI!

HANMA SHUJI

CONTENT WARNINGS. female!reader, reader gets slapped, weed, blood gets drawn (not from reader), reader’s kinda dumb, noncon

There was no way you weren’t a virgin.

From your doe eyes to the way you attempted to maintain your modesty by pulling down at the hem of your skirt in a den full of lecherous men, Shuji was nearly convinced that this was too good to be true.

“You a virgin, sweetheart?”

Snapped out of your own little world, you cautiously look over at the bespectacled man who then promptly took a hit from his joint.

“And what if I am?” you dare to ask despite the unsettling feeling Shuji Hanma gave you. He chuckles before blowing the smoke into your unsuspecting face. You cough and splutter rather ungracefully.

“No need to get so defensive. S’just a question.” He smiles at you, all pearly whites and danger.

Blinking, you tentatively answer. “Yes.”

This, of course, was no surprise to Shuji. This time he laughs and you feel your eye twitch. “How precious,” he drawls, golden hues shamelessly traversing your stiff posture. As virgin as they come, he thinks to himself before passing the joint in the hand that was inked with ‘sin,’ which soon joins its partner ‘punishment’ as he steeples his fingers together, resting his elbows on his knees as he regards you curiously. You break eye contact quickly to study the marbled floor.

“Ever cared for a creampie?” he asks.

“No, I was never one for sweets.”

The boisterous cacophony of laughter that joined Shuji’s makes you shrink back into yourself in burning embarrassment. Had you said something wrong?

Shuji gestures to you as he rises to his full height. “Well, let’s change that, yeah?”

You were more confused than ever, and it must’ve been sprawled across your features because the loan shark before you shifts over to you in two short strides. He takes your smaller hand into his ‘punishment’ hand, grinning all the while.

“Follow me.”

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all i can think about is hajime telling you to open your mouth while he's fucking you, and once you do, he spits in it and pats your cheek before slapping your face as you swallow 😺

thanks now it’s all i can think about too 😸

or hajime gripping your face so tightly, and it’s you that opens your mouth, you part your lips slowly and loll your tongue expectantly, begging him in a quiet, desperate voice, “spit in my mouth, please— need it—“

and when he does, he does it with disgust, mumbling ’bout how dirty you are, so filthy for wanting this. but in response, all you can do is thank him, even as he lets go of your face in favor of slapping it harshly, just as his thrusts get rougher, get deeper, get harder. you’re mumbling thank you’s like he didn’t just call you filthy and spit in your mouth, like he didn’t just slap you so hard your cheek still throbs.

so he indulges you again, asks you to, “open your mouth, pretty thing,” before he spits onto your awaiting tongue again. except he’s the one that forces your mouth close this time, clamping your mouth shut with his hand roughly gripping your face, grumbling out a heavy, deep, “swallow,” as his thrusts slow. and when you do, of course you do, he hums deeply, gruffly, in appraisal, and fucks you harder.

Soak

yandere!stepbrother!Bokuto x f!reader

Anonymous request: Hello! Could a make a request for a small fic with yandere!stepbrother!bokuto x female!reader where he’s making her take a bath with him and it’s all kinda wholesome until he starts to get aroused and then fucks her in the bathtub?🥺👉👈 Maybe make it kinda non-con-y, pretty please? You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to:) have a good day!

a/n: thank you for your request! But a small fic? I cannot for the life of me write anything short… Please forgive me! It’s mostly smut though, with not as much plot. Which is new for me and makes me a little nervous. I hope you enjoy reading it!

Warnings and tags: smut, yandere themes, delusional mindset, stepcest (pseudo-incest), noncon/rape, ruined orgasm

You sigh blissfully when you sink into the tub. Warmth immediately spreads through your body, melting away your worries. The knots in your shoulders loosen and the steam rising up from the bubbly water’s surface dampens your face. The sweet, flowery smell of soap floods your senses.

You close your eyes and smile contentedly. It’s been a stressful week at college and you’re glad to have come home to an empty house for the weekend. So you allow yourself a little alone time. Something you hardly do anymore, with your nosy roommates always around.

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ok so iwachan is the type of boy you bring home to show your fam, the type that has you and your fam wrapped around his fingers *literally*. imagine bringing him home for dinner one day and he reacted when you asked “daddy” to pass you the pepper??? AND CUES SOME NASTY SHIT HE WILL PULL. make it nasty

A/N: “make it nasty” man you are really putting a lot of pressure on me here (x

Warning: fingering, panty thieving, daddy kink

You were almost, no, you were certain that your parents liked your boyfriend more than they like you.

To think that the thought of your boyfriend having to win them over even crossed your head when you brought him home for the first time, how foolish of you. Credit where it was due, Iwaizumi was a great guy. Respectable, reliable, with his feet on the ground and held all his words with weight. But still, it didn’t stop your saltiness at how your parents almost wanted to hand you off the moment they met him.

You wondered how they would feel if they knew that their perfect son in law was secretly a bit of a freak. But that wasn’t entirely fair, after all, the gap in his demeanor the moment the bedroom door closed had you weak in the knees.

He could probably get away with most anything when it comes to your parents, let’s be honest. But it didn’t stop you from feeling the dread when he casually reached over the table the moment you absent-mindedly asked for “daddy” to pass you the pepper.

Everyone froze in place, and you could see the brief panic in his eyes when he realised what he had done. The smile on your face was stiff as he handed you the jar, hoping and praying that your family would not get the connotation of the phrase. You wanted to die when you see your actual father opened his mouth as if he was hesitant to say something but before he could even articulate his confusion, your boyfriend rose up from his seat and filled your father’s glass with a smile that was too earnest for him to even say anything. 

You were supposed to be relieved that your father was immediately grinning and patting Iwa’s shoulder at his thoughtfulness, but you could feel shivers running up your spine when he sat back down and shot you a meaningful glance.

He really, really could get away with anything.

You tried to brush it off when you felt his hand on your thigh, looking over to your side to see him grinning at something your mother said. The clink of your chopsticks falling onto the ceramic made everyone snap their heads to look at you, and your face was burning as you tried to pretend like you totally weren’t caught off guard by your boyfriend’s finger dipping into your panties.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked with a tone of concern, leaning over to place his palm on your forehead. Your hand was immediately clutching his forearm as the movement allowed him to press his fingers down onto your clit, biting your lips so that you would not make a sound.

He had his back to your parents, and you were the only one who could see the slight smirk on his face.

“I’m alright,” you said, trying your best to hide the way your voice was trembling as you pushed your chair back, abruptly standing up. Iwa was eyeing you in amusement as you chuckled nervously, “it’s just a bit stuffy in here, I’ll be better once I go splash some water on my face.”

You took a deep breath the moment you were along in the corridor, trying to calm yourself down. You were not going back in there until your skin stops burning up and the goosebumps on your arm eased. Your thighs clenched together was you walked, cursing at yourself for how the ministrations he did on you had such an effect.

“Baby girl.”

You jumped at the voice that was low by your ear, his hot breath tickling your senses as he cornered you. The way you rubbed your legs together as he approached you didn’t go unnoticed and you knew you were in for it when his eyes darkened.

“Hajime, what are you-”

“Just then out there, you nearly embarrassed me in front of mom and dad,” you loved and hated the way he addressed your parents like that, “you know how I feel about you using that word...”

You wanted to argue that it was a reach, that it was unintentional but your voice came out as nothing more than a squeak when his hands slipped under your skirt to tug at the elastic of your panties.

“Off.”

The sheer dominance in his voice had you weak in his hands. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, you shuddered as he peeled the fabric off your legs, stuffing it in his jean pocket.

“Now that’s a good girl,” he was quick to return to his usual demeanor as he took your hand in his before walking back out to the dining area but not without leaning down to whisper in your ear. The gravel in his voice made you shiver. “behave, or else daddy will get very angry at you.”

The food was delicious, but your sense of taste seemed to betray you as your mind was not able to ignore how bare you felt. You hoped no one noticed that you were shifting in your seat but he sure did, ever so attentive as he was. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, nothing suspicious except for the fact that his hand was inching towards your now naked core. Your hand was gripping at the table as he traced your folds, collecting the leaking arousal at the pad of his fingers. “Hm?”

“Nothing!” you managed to choke out, quickly biting your cheeks so that nothing would slip out as he eased two fingers inside your walls, slowly scissoring them.

“You have been acting very strangle today, are you sure you’re alright?” you mother asked, “maybe you should go home and take some rest.

You could only force yourself to nod as the bolts of pleasure shot up your spine, the feeling of him gliding in and out of you painfully prominent.

“No worries, I’ll take care of her.” 

You wanted nothing more than to glare at him for managing to sound so sweet, so caring as he toyed with you. The tingling on your scalp as he pulled away was enough to keep you on edge and you could feel your arousal gushing out at the sudden lost of friction.

“Of course we won’t worry, we know she is in very good hands!” There it was, your parents’ near painful oblivion as to what was going on

“It’s nice to know that we can always count on you!”

Your mother’s voice rang by your ear as he walked you out of the restaurant with his arm holding you up. You were glaring daggers at him the moment you were out of their sight. “Hajime-”

You gasped when you felt his hand grabbing your ass roughly.

“Sh... daddy will take very good care of you tonight.”

WIND BREAKER | you size them up

Synopsis ✰ head cannons of how the boys react when you unexpectedly size them up

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ sfw! playful content, play/pretend fighting, giggling, cute content of the boys getting caught off guard

Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

☆ you’re crazy if you think this man will ever back down

☆ he doesn’t care if you’re dating, he never backs down from a fight

☆ he’s confused at first but then immediately gets the hint of what you’re doing

☆ he takes that shit personally

☆ “what you tryna do?” he challenges

☆ he puts his hands up and gets in his fighting stance

☆ “c’mon put your hands up.” he says jumping around you in circles

☆ he pretends to swing on you and punches the air around you

☆ expect him to mimic fighting sounds

☆ “yeahhh that’s what i thought, you don’t want this.” he says in the middle of his fake punches swinging at the air next to you

☆ after he’s done he taunts you, “yeahhh try that shit again.”

☆ his reaction to it makes you giggle like a love sick fool

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

☆ he laughs once he realizes what you’re doing

☆ he finds it to be very humorous

☆ “oh? you tryna fight right now?“ he teases

☆ he immediately sizes you up back, two can play this game

☆his stance is intimidating as hell but you can’t bring yourself to back down

☆ you cross your arms and tilt your head up high

☆ NEVER BACK DOWN, NEVER WHAT ?!?!

☆ you squeal as he picks you up and swings you over his shoulder

☆ spins you around until you’re dizzy

☆ “had enough yet??” he questions after the third spin

☆ he makes you giggle so much during it

☆ he will not stop until you give

☆ “okay! okay! i give!” you admitted defeat after the tenth spin around

☆ places you down on your feet and gives you a soft kiss on your lips after

Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩

☆ he can’t help himself

☆ he has the most shit-eating grin at your cuteness

☆ he thinks you sizing him up is adorable

☆ “you’re so cute and silly” he coos

☆ you take that as a sign of disrespect

☆ you gasp in response and frown

☆ “i can be intimate if i want to be!” you argued

☆ he laughs at your rebuttal

☆”yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night.” he says while walking away laughing at you

☆ he ruffles your hair on the way out leaving you dumbfounded

☆ you’ve never faced such a high amount of disrespect

☆ you practice your sizing up stance in the mirror every night after that incident of disrespect

☆ you make it a mission to gain the ability of being intimidating

Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩

☆ he already knows you’re doing it to mess with him

☆ “oh? you’re trying to start something?” he challenges stepping up to you

☆ this officially begins the playful pushing war

☆ surprisingly enough he starts it by slightly shoving you to the side

☆ you return the favor by giving him the hardest shove to the floor

☆ you take off running and laughing after you see him fall hard on his ass

☆ he immediately gets up and tries to run after you at full speed

☆ you run around the whole block for miles, him behind you the entire time

☆ slowly transforms into a game of tag

☆ the two of you go back and forth running around

☆ you’re both exhausted by the end of it

☆ you’re both quite literally huffing and puffing trying to regain control of your breathing

☆ you both lay on the grass for awhile after

☆ “i totally won” “what? you’re crazy, i definitely won” “nuh-uh!” “yuh-huh!”

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

☆ his eyebrows immediately raised in amusement

☆ “who exactly do you think you’re scaring?”

☆ sizes you back

☆ he makes sure not to come off as too intimidating since he doesn’t want to scare you

☆ “you tryna fight?” you challenged

☆ “you think you can take me?” he scoffs

☆ you’re swept off your feet before you can even react

☆ he full on body slams you into the bed

☆ not too rough obviously, he still cares about you

☆ you break out into giggles and screams as he starts tickling you

☆ you almost pee yourself before you finally break free

☆ “STOP, STOP, I DONT LIKE THIS GAME” you scream squirming out of his grasp (pls tell me you get the reference)

☆ you run out of the room in a fit of laughter

☆ he sprints after you

☆ don’t start something you can’t finish

Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩

☆ he just smiles at you brightly

☆ he’s fully aware of what you’re doing

☆ you’ve been on a mission to get this man to play fight you since forever

☆ he giggles as you begin to punch the air around him

☆ “c’mon fight back” you joke jumping around him as you continued to swing at the air

☆ he doesn’t want or has any intention to engage in play fighting with you

☆ secret confession: he’s too scared about the possibility of hurting you

☆ his aggressive hugs are one thing, fighting is a completely different thing

☆ he’s aware of his strength and gets nervous to the concept of play fighting

☆ you accept defeat at this attempt

☆ “you may have won this time but i’ll be back!” you warn with your first up as you walked away from the smiling boy

☆ “uh-huh whatever you say.” he giggles

☆ finds your attempts to be cute and amusing

lev with an oral fixation ☝️😩 he can’t sleep unless he’s sucking your tiddies or anything tbh. and when y’all are doing the nasty he’s always sucking on your neck or when your in control he’s sucking on your fingers🏃‍♀️

Lets just say when you and Lev first started to dating you noticed it 

but you didn’t say anything simply because he was always sucking on a lollipop or whatever was in his hand 

It really didn’t take a huge notice until you two started sleeping together 

He seemed to focus more on your tits than anything else and finally you brought it up one night 

“Lev?” You ask twisting your fingers in worry, that maybe mentioning it will end badly 

“Yeah baby?” He asks turning to look at you that stupid candy hanging from his lips 

“Why are you always sucking on my tits and that candy all the time?” The question was a silent one 

The silence that filled the air after that was one that almost made you retract the question 

“Oh…well.” He blushes and laughs nervously while rubbing the back of his neck 

You drop your gaze but you hear the loud sigh and look up seeing the lollipop was gone and a wobbly smile was there instead 

“I…I have an oral kink..or fixation whatever you want to call it and i like having things in my mouth, fuck i can’t even fall asleep without something in my mouth.” He admits 

Yeah…that wasn’t the answer you were expecting and the images and behavior of everything starts to play back in your mind 

“Really?” You ask making him nod and walk over to you towering over you in a domineering kind of way 

He smirks and reaches out his fingers crazy your tits causing your nipples to harden 

“It get’s especially hard at night to control, even more so when you’re next to me at night. It’s so hard not to suck on your tits….god.” He groans and you feel your self clench 

“Bed?” You ask breathless 

His eyes snap up to yours making him nod fast as you both rush to bed clothes being thrown off 

After that he always had your tits in his mouth when he could, whenever they got sore he would switch it off for the lollipops 

Of course, you had a switch dynamic where he would either suck on your tits or when you were in control he would suck on your fingers 

and god if that wasn’t a pretty sight you don’t know what is 

Lev also loved to suck on your neck and leaving marks, it was a sense of pride but he got off at the fact he could remember sucking that mark into your skin 

He was able to control it in public, there was one instance where he couldn’t take it 

you were wearing a tank top and he could see the faint marks on your neck but also the tank top did wonders for your breasts 

he dragged you into an empty bathroom and ripped your top down and went to fucking town 

let’s just say, you didn’t go back for lunch and went straight home 

Lev has this polyrod pictures of your tits and neck with his teeth, tongue and mouth marks all over and those are his comfort pictures 

Don’t ever ask about them if you see them in his wallet he will just smirk and wink 

Bitch, you cappin' and you big mad

I'm just fuckin' trappin', gettin' cat girls and some big bands

— Midline —

Piercer!Tendou // Fem!Reader

Warnings: tongue piercing, bad piercer practices, slight blood mentions, alcohol, and dubcon probably...

Word Count: 1140

Summary: you go to a party thrown by tendou and get a free piercing...sadly no smut in this part oops

a/n: this is only part one...say thanks to @kamoniwa for inspiring this and giving me ideas for more parts....

“I'm just fuckin' trappin', gettin' cat girls and some big bands,” the music was blasting loud enough for you to hear outside.

Each lyric rattling the windows as the bass reverberated down your spine, the air smelt of cheap booze and cigarettes, it was as familiar as any other college party your friends dragged you along too.

The only difference was that it wasn’t a college party, you and your friends had been invited by some volleyball players at your college, mentioning someone named Tendou offering free piercings to anyone who brought alcohol.

You and your friends thought it was too good to be true, nevertheless, here you were showing up with a bottle of everclear in clutch as you made your way inside.

The music only got louder as you got inside, making it nearly impossible to think as someone pointed you and your friends to the drinks.

That’s when you saw him, a room off to the side of the kitchen with a few people gathered inside, shaved red hair catching your eyes as his piercings glinted different colors in the changing strobe lights

You found yourself curious, hovering around the room before getting separated from your friends and going inside.

He was much more attractive up close, lithe fingers working quickly to pierce the person in front of him, someone you recognized as Goshiki as his friends chuckled around him and teased him.

You’d had a few shots with your friends and they were quickly catching up to you as you tried to ignore the way your stomach turned flips the longer you watched him push the needle through Goshiki’s nipple.

You could feel the butterflies in your stomach as an ache creeped it’s way into your chest at the thought of his fingers against your own nipples, the pinch of the clamp as the cool metal heats up against your body heat until the needle starts to go in and—

“Princess~”

The mocking tone dragged you out of your thoughts as your eyes met Tendou’s, a smirk playing on his lips as he waved his hand at you.

“Are you next?”

You gave him a sharp nod as you felt the heat rising to your cheeks, you knew you were caught the moment he motioned for you to sit down with a dark chuckle.

“Gettin’ your nipples pierced too then?”

“N-no,” you choked on your words as you stared at him wide eyed, you felt like a deer caught in headlights as you noticed the blown out look in his eyes.

“That’s a shame I’m sure they’d look cute on you,” the way his eyes traveled over your body with each word before hesitating on your chest had a shiver wracking through you.

“What’re you gettin’ then,” his eyes still lingered on your chest as each word reverberated with the music’s bass.

“I— uhmm—“ you hadn’t thought this far ahead before you sat down, even if you had the way his eyes were consuming you would have made you forget as you struggled to remember how to speak.

There was a deep chuckle from him as he licked his lips at the way you were squirming underneath his gaze.

You’d caught a quick glimpse of something on his tongue and finally remembered a coherent word as you pointed at his mouth.

“That,” the way he cocked his brow at your words had a coil tightening in your stomach as a devious little smirk played on his lips.

“You mean this?”

He opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out for you to see, the once hidden piercing now on full display for you as you tried to nod in response, your mind choking on the thought of how his tongue would feel between your thighs.

You tried to shake the thought from your mind as he prepped the small space, pulling out a fresh needle, piercing, and changing his gloves.

There was a nervousness budding back inside you at the sound of latex snapping against his hand, you suddenly felt sober yet intoxicated all at once as your mind went numb.

“W-what about the clamp?”

He chuckled at the nervous sound in your voice, “what do you mean?”

“Ahh a-are you going to use it?”

His laughter was even louder this time as his gloved thumb swiped over your bottom lip.

“Nah, it’s not sanitary anymore, plus it’ll hurt more so just sit real still and quiet for me princess.”

Before you could protest he had his fingers in your mouth, forcing it open as he shoved his fingers further and further back until you were gagging around them.

The taste of latex was strong as tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes, he gave you an apologetic smile but it didn’t quite meet his eyes as he watched you.

He pulled them back slowly, running them along the flat of your tongue before he had his thumb pressed under it and his forefinger holding it in place by the tip.

“This’ll hurt just a tiny bit.”

You could see the needle glint in the light and your first thought was to squeeze your eyes closed but you didn’t, you were too enthralled with the way the veins in his hands flexed with every movement of his fingers until the needle was piercing straight through your tongue.

There was a sharp pinch of pain enveloping your sense as you let out a strangled yelp, tears overflowing as you squeezed your eyes tightly shut and the taste of copper overpowered the taste of latex.

He was quick as he replaced the needle with your new piercing, a gloved hand coming up to stroke away tears on your cheek as you opened your eyes to look at him.

“All good princess?”

You nodded at him as you tried to ignore the throb in your tongue and the even more prevalent throb in your little wet cunt.

“Then up we go,” he helped you stand up before he let you sit in a chair beside him, leaning next to your ear as he began to whisper.

“I still think you’d be cute with those nipple piercings, if you give me your number later I’ll drop by your house, however, a home visit will cost you something extra.”

The last part held a dark tone in it that sent goosebumps crawling up your spine as he sat back down and turned to the next person waiting to be pierced.

He’d pulled out all the same tools as before, however, this time he pulled out an antiseptic and the clamps as he cleaned them off with a chuckle.

Despite the way your brain screamed to tell him off or to get up and leave you sat there wide eyed and lip quivering as your new piercing kept you silent.

The Monster You Know

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

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.