𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓

— spoiled

After Sae has endured a long day of press interviews, he’s pent up, tired and just wants to go home. But you dressed up all pretty for him today, and you’re desperate for his attention.

Only @saexy could get me to write for Itoshi Sae. Header art is by them and they graciously allowed me to use it in this depravity, please check it out and give them a follow💕

Pairing: Itoshi Sae x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, established relationship, semi-public sex, piss (Sae pisses inside you), creampie, dirty talk, slight degradation (slut).

Word Count: 2.2k.

Sae would call you spoiled, no matter how much you tried to disagree with him. Rolling your eyes at him whenever he’d comment on it, as though you’d just asked him to buy you a new pair of shoes or the cute plushie you’d seen at the store last weekend (there was no point asking when he’d already bought it for you anyway, he thinks) — but Sae thinks you’re spoiled in far more than just wealth. 

You’re spoiled enough that you get to see every single part of him. Even the sides he tries so hard to conceal and keep from everyone, especially his family. Breaking down the walls to the fortress he built around his heart that he swore was impenetrable until he met you. 

And perhaps that’s why he indulges you so much. Allowing you to climb onto his lap after a long, arduous day of press interviews and meetings as you settle on either side of his muscular thighs. Pressing cherry-stained kisses against the corner of his lips as he tries to ignore the incessant throb in his pelvis in favour of you. 

“You can’t wait until we get home?” He raises a brow, placing his phone face down on the arm of the sofa as he gives you his attention. 

He’d just text his driver to bring the car around, hoping to get home as quickly as possible to take this suit off, relieve the aching throb in his bladder from back-to-back interviews and climb into the shower. And perhaps if he’s lucky round off his evening with your pretty lips around his cock—

“You’ve ignored me all day today.” You accuse, as though it’s his fault he’s neglected you for work, “There was barely even any reason for me to come.”

“Don’t start.” He growls, his Adam’s apple bobs as he feels your lips curl into a sultry grin against his cheek. His rough palms grip your hips as you deliberately grind yourself down on his soft cock as a raspy groan rumbles a the back of his throat, “I told you that you could stay at home, didn’t I?” 

“It’s like sometimes you don’t even want me.” You pout, and Sae has to resist the urge to roll his eyes because it couldn’t be further from the truth. Another one of your elaborate fibs that you like to throw at him whenever you want some attention because you’re the only one he will ever want. 

“Don't give me that shit,” He scoffs, giving your ass a playful spank that causes you to grind yourself down against him, “How could I ever want anyone else?”

Sae feels his cock buck to life beneath you. The warmth radiating through your panties engulfs him as his head lolls back against the couch, the constant throb from his bladder now replaced with desire as he feels his pelvis pulse when your lips meet his in a sultry kiss. 

It’s mind-numbing the way your mouth seems to slot against his so perfectly, tilting your head to the side as you move together languidly. Your tongue strokes against the seam of his lips as they part for entrance and you delve deeper, brushing against his canines before he marches your movements. Stroking his tongue against every single crevice as though he’s trying to consume you whole, pouring every ounce of emotion into the kiss as he purposefully presses you down on his prominent bulge.

There isn’t time for this, not when the car is on its way. Wondering whether he’d be able to satiate you enough with his fingers before you both had to go downstairs. Or at the very least alleviate the tension enough to satiate you until you were settled in the back of the car, the blacked out windows offering enough privacy to offer you a moments reprieve.

It’s as though you choose for him, pressing yourself against his clothed cock with more urgency as you hold yourself against him. Peppering sticky kisses against the column of his throat as your teeth drag against his milky skin, grazing his pulse point as he feels the restraint he holds inside him slowly begin to crumble. 

“You’re terrible, baby.” He groans, his warm palms splayed against your bare thighs as they slip beneath the hem of your dress. Pushing the fabric up to bunch around your waist as his thumbs dip into the apex of your thighs, dangerously close to your soft folds as he teases the hem of your panties. 

“I’m terrible? When you’re the one that’s neglected me all day,” You pout, before breaking off into a moan as Sae’s thumbs stroke against your outer labia. 

You gasp at the sensation, your lips parted in bliss as Sae takes the opportunity to stroke his tongue against your lips, tasting the saccharine hint of cherry from your gloss as he watches through half-lidded eyes as you continue to grind yourself against him. 

But it isn’t enough. Unsatisfied as he pulls your panties to the side, groaning deep in his chest when he drags two knuckles through your slit to feel how drenched you are already. Your slick webs against his fingers as he pushes sharp precise circles against your clit, enough to have you writhing above him as your hands reach down to fiddle with the expensive silver buckle of his belt. 

It doesn’t take much to have his heavy cock sheathed inside your drenched hole, heaving a contented sigh as he bottoms out inside you. The warmth surrounding him is just enough to have Sae feeling comfortable as the tension in his bladder begins to ease and is replaced by fierce electricity that shoots through his veins as you begin to bounce yourself on his length. Slender fingers smooth along your sides, palming your bouncing breasts through the pretty sundress you’re wearing before pulling the straps down to settle around your elbows. Exposing your tits to his gaze as he hums in satisfaction, pressing lingering kisses against the naked skin as his tongue slips out to flick against your taut nipples. 

You move as though you’re using him for your pleasure, and you are — not that Sae minds. The corner of his lip curls into the slightest hint of a smile as he watches you try to get yourself off, rolling your hips so his cock drags against that velvety spot inside you that’ll have you seeing stars as your lips part in a near constant whine. 

“You’re always so fucking noisy,” Sae tuts, and yet does not attempt to silence you as he spreads his thighs further apart, “Do you want someone to hear?”

“Am not.” You scrunch your nose in irritation, biting down on your kiss-bruised bottom lip in a feeble attempt to silence yourself, but it was barely worth the effort.

“Listen to yourself.” He sneers, rough fingers dip into the plush of your ass as he holds you tight. Spreading your cheeks as he palms them beneath his hands before he starts a rough pace, selfishly using you for his own pleasure as he moves you how he pleases, “Couldn’t even wait five minutes before you were jumping on my cock.” 

“Sae, please.” You whined breathlessly, your head falling forward as he fucks himself into you. 

“That desperate for me to treat you like a slut, is that it?” He grunts, “My pretty slut.”

His cockhead bumps your cervix with each forward thrust, his veiny cock catching against the ridges of your inner walls as you find yourself soaring towards your orgasm. The telltale throb begins to ebb in your pelvis as your clit cries out for attention, sliding your hand down between your connected bodies as you begin to press sloppy circles against the sensitive nub as Sae’s eyes follow your movements to watch—

“That’s it, baby.” He grunts, “You get yours.”

It’s all too much as you feel yourself nearing your release, pearly tears begin to bead in your lashes blurring your vision as you desperately try to blink them away. Your moans came out as debased pants as he kept his rough pace as the coil inside you snapped abruptly, forcing you into your climax as you cried out his name in pleasure.

“Oh, fuck,” He groans as he feels your tight cunt clench around him as you greedily vie to milk him of his release, burying your face in the apex of his neck as you breathe in the scent of his aftershave. Teeth grazing his clavicle as he gives a few more sloppy thrusts before he feels his own orgasm surge through him like a tsunami, crashing into him in harsh waves as his thighs begin to shudder. 

“Fuck, shit.” He snarls under his breath as you feel white ropes of heady cum begin to coat your inner walls, his grip on your hips almost bruising as he forces you to take all he’s got to give as he empties his balls inside you, “Take it—”

Your chest is heaving, and you think he’s finished filling you with all his potent spunk until you feel it— an unfamiliar warmth begins to spread inside you as your palms immediately shift to press against his chest, trying to pull yourself off his still painfully hard cock to no avail. The fierce grip he maintains on your hips keeps you flush against his pelvis as he fills you to the brim with a warm stream of piss that creates a flood inside you, his pubes tickle your clit as you let out an airy whine at the feeling. His cock works as a dam to keep you full as his hips continue to rock into you sloppily, the back of his skull pressed against the couch as he exhales through clenched teeth. 

“Wait, Sae—” You try to call out to stop him, to escape the sensation but it’s futile. 

He’s completely lost to the euphoria as his face contorts in bliss, revealing the whites of his eyes as the persistent ache in his bladder dissipates and is replaced by smouldering pleasure. Embarrassment begins to swirl inside your tummy at the debauched sight of him, your stretched walls continue to throb around his cock as some of his piss escapes around the base of his cock and soaks his pelvis and slacks. The lewd squelch is shameful as he gives a few more messy ruts, filling the room with the crude noise as you feel the heat burn against your cheeks and the wetness presses against your inner thighs. 

It’s disgusting, depraved, you should be mortified— and yet your clit throbs with desire at the immoral sight. Your hips shift as you reach down to tug the hem of your dress up to take in the sight of him, his piss soaked into his grey Calvin’s as the fabric sticks to his skin. Positive it’s slathered all the way down to the leather couch beneath you as your cunt continues to pulse around him with want, already feeling the familiar heat beginning to build again in your pelvis as you roll your hips into him for some slight relief. 

“Don’t you dare.” He grunts, tightening his grip on your hips to stop you from moving after he was the one to force a mixture of piss and cum into your innocent hole. 

“Sae, I can’t believe you pissed in me.” You whined, feeling the moisture begin to soak into your panties as more of it leaked out of you. Cooling against the fabric as you shift your hips above him, both your eyes on where your bodies are connected as you watch more begin to escape your ruined hole. 

“It’s your fault.” He grumbles, as though you were the one to press down on his bladder. 

“You didn’t tell me you needed to pee!” You pout childishly, jutting out your bottom lip.

“I didn’t get a chance before you jumped me,” He rolled his eyes, his tongue jutting out to wet his lips as his chest continued to heave in his post-orgasmic haze.

“You make it sound like you didn’t want it.” You murmur, squealing when his softening cock begins to slip out of your stretched hole and you feel the final dregs of his piss dribble out of you. 

Sae ignores you, instead his eyes are focused on the mess between your thighs as he drags two fingers through it. Feeling the warmth of his piss and cum mixed with your slick as he watches your body respond intently, throwing your head back with a sharp gasp. 

“You make it sound like you didn’t want this.” He counters, mimicking your tone as he spreads your folds between his index and middle finger to tap your clit. 

“I have to walk home like this,” You gasp at the contact, “That’s so embarrassing.” 

No, he thinks, what was embarrassing is just how easily you had him submitting to you. 

“You act as though I'm going to parade you through the streets like this," He deadpans with half-lidded eyes, feeling the damp back of your dress where it sits against his thighs, "You're only going to go downstairs and get into my car.”

“That still means someone could see,” You whine, your nose scrunched adorably as he had to resist the urge to kiss you.

“Yeah yeah, and who's problem is that?”

His, he thinks as he groans internally. Praying to whatever God was up there looking down on him that there wouldn’t be any paparazzi outside that would catch him in piss-soaked slacks on the walk to his chauffeur. 

And if there was Sae was certain it would be all over social media by morning, and Shidou would never let him hear the end of it.

SHARING’S CARIN’

FT. mikey + draken, sanzu + rindou, wakasa + senju, izana + kakucho

+ your girl’s mine too, yeah?

CW. threesomes. afab!fem!reader. cucking. fingering. creampie. squirting. blowjobs. degradation. slutshaming. cum eating.

AN. 18+, minors dni.

mikey & draken

“how is she?” chewing on some gum with loud smacks of his lips and a nonchalant glance over his friend’s shoulder, mikey’s dark eyes zoom in on draken’s fat cock thrusting into your tight cunt. he knew he’d like it—your pussy’s fucking divine—but there’s a churning in his stomach when he sees the way draken looks at you—the same way he looks at you.

“good—fuckin’ amazing.” draken grunts with each roll of his hips—what started as quiet and almost muted touches quickly became bold and frantic once he got a taste of your cunt that he’s been thinking of for god knows how many nights.

he’s been fucking you for hours, completely drowning in the feeling of emptying himself in you—fat tip bullying its way into your throbbing walls and his cream coated length disappearing into your squelching cunt with each desperate thrust. it’s annoying. while mikey agreed for a bit at first, that was before he started fucking his third load into you, cum seeping out each time he slips into you and stretches his pussy out.

“he’s not better than me, right?” mikey’s knees sink into the mattress and his hair fans over your face, tickling your skin while he cradles your face in his hands. don’t look at draken, look at him! “.. right?”

just as you’re about to answer, draken pushes your thighs up to your chest so he reaches impossibly deeper into you. loud, wanton moans fall from your lips with each smack of his balls against your ass. you squirm in mikey’s hold and he can’t help the glare he gives his second in command.

“don’t go getting jealous, now.” draken smirks at him before furiously rubbing at your clit and it’s disgusting how easily he gets you to squirt all over his pelvis, sprays of fluid sticking to his flexing abs with choked moans into mikey’s palms. “can’t help it when she’s squirtin’ all over you ..”

mikey clicks his tongue in irritation before getting up to slap at draken’s biceps. “move,” he palms at his wet underwear before pulling his twitching cock out with beads leaking out of the slit. “‘s my turn.” spitting his gum out, he grins when he hears draken huff in discontent and pull out—leaving your hole gaping, begging to be filled with his warm cum.

Keep reading

Ruptured Amethyst; Splintered Tanzanite

Dark!Satosugu x reader - Yakuza Au

Synopsis: In hopes of paying off your debt, you start working for two dangerous men. Soon, you realize they want more than money.

Word count: 9.2k

(Warnings: dark content, sexual coercion, dubcon, noncon, oral sex, piv sex, threesomes, gun, blood, violence) Ageless blogs will be blocked. Minors DNI

In this job, you quickly learned that it's better to just keep your head down. 

Do what you were called for and leave. Do nothing but sit on your computer and look at numbers. Stepping out of your makeshift boundaries led to nothing but trouble.

It worked perfectly like that for the first few weeks you were brought here. The other workers never bothered you, and it took you a moment to realize they were in the same boat as you were: owing a debt. You wouldn’t quite say things were peaceful; every so often, one of Geto’s men would hurl someone through a table, but things were manageable.

And then Gojo came back.

You hadn’t met Gojo, yet. He was overseas on a business trip when Geto brought you in. You hadn’t met him, but you’d heard enough to make you want to stay away from him. Ijichi had told you enough stories to make you want to sink into the floor altogether. You just had until the end of the year until your debt was paid. It was the beginning of September, right now. Surely, you could avoid him until then, right?

“Ah, you’re the one Suguru was talking about.”

It was your fault. It was entirely your fault. Ijichi had begged you to stay after work for a bit longer and desperate to pay the debt off, you had agreed. No one else was supposed to be in the office besides you and him.

But Gojo didn’t follow other people’s rules. It'd take you a while before you fully understand that.

You could do nothing but stand there, wobbling in your heels as Gojo loomed over you. His sunglasses were tilted, cresting over his nose as he scrutinized you. You clutched the laptop closer to your chest, as though it’d save you somehow.

Gojo didn’t look dangerous. If you had seen him on the street, you would have assumed he was a model. Tall, long hands, pretty features. Gojo doesn’t look dangerous. Gojo is dangerous. He doesn’t need the gun (casually on his side, right in your line of sight) to prove it.

You say nothing. You don’t know what to say. So far, you’ve only dealt with Geto. Geto with his fake smiles and soft words of thinly veiled threats. As intimidating as Geto was, you felt safe enough with him to answer his questions. Speak when spoken to.

Gojo was uncharted territory. Should you speak? Should you greet him? Should you get on your hands and knees? Gojo was new. You had to deal with something new, alone.

You opt to stay silent, hoping that’s the best move. It’s not. Above you, Gojo’s clicking his tongue. He leans down, stooping his head low to get a better view of your face. You stare at him until it gets too much and you’re turning away. He likes that even less, grabbing you by the chin so you’re facing him again.

“You mute or somethin’?” He asks, tilting your head like he’s assessing you.

“No,” you finally murmur. It was a question, correct? He won’t get mad if you answer his questions.

He doesn’t seem mad. But he doesn’t seem happy, either. If anything, he looks a little disappointed.

“I really don’t get it,” he’s talking, but it’s more like he’s saying his thoughts out loud, “Suguru would not shut up about you. Thought I was gonna see something more exciting. You’re so...”

He trails off as though even describing you would be a waste. The thought that Geto speaks about you to his partners scares you, but you’re wise enough not to pry. Instead, you wait. Waiting often works. You’ve been cornered by Geto’s men (before they knew he was the one who brought you), most just want to intimidate you, they get a kick out of fear. When you give them what they want, they usually leave you alone.

Gojo doesn’t leave, even when you’re sure your horror is printed on your face. Obvious to even the blind. Instead, he leans back, eyes trailing down your outfit. Despite how most of the stuff done here was off the record, Geto still prioritized a professional workplace. You were expected to put on a clean blouse and skirt every day.

You yelp when Gojo tugs on the fabric of your skirt, bunching the material on your thighs. Forgetting where you are, who you’re with, you grab his wrist.

“Don’t be like that,” Gojo chides as though you were being the unreasonable one, “I just wanna look. Seriously, what was that guy going on and on about—”

“Satoru.”

Geto’s voice stops the both of you. He’s leaning against the wall, watching the two of you with a less than impressed look. You’re relieved when he’s more focused on Gojo than you.

“Sugu!” Gojo cheers, a complete 180 from his past demeanor. He lets you go and you sink against the wall in relief. “I’m home!”

“I can see that,” Geto retorts, but there’s an odd fondness laced in his tone that you’d never heard before.

The kiss they shared was violent. Tongue and teeth and messy. Gojo reached up, scrunching Geto’s hair, dragging him closer. Respectfully, you glanced away. You don’t yet leave. You know better than that, especially now that Geto is here.

“How many times have I told you to stop harassing our employees?” Geto sighs, once he’s pulled away. His tone is filled with exasperation, as though he were talking to a child.

“I didn’t do anythin’,” Gojo responds. When you finally turn back, Geto is shaking his head.

He smiles at you.

“Apologies, my dear,” he states, “you can leave. Remember to tell Ijichi you’re going.”

You eagerly nod before scurrying away. You can hear Gojo scoff, another murmur from Geto. You couldn’t care less what they’re saying, more than happy to grab your things, bid Ijichi goodbye, and leave.

Keep your head down, and don’t ever bother with what they are doing.

⟡

Technically, you weren’t in debt, your father was.

He had close ties to the underground. You weren’t sure of the details, you were so young when your mother left with you in tow. She was always stingy with the details, but she never failed to remind you that your father was a stupid man who worked with dangerous ones. She passed away right after you graduated from college. You’d mourned her.

Now, a part of you felt grateful she passed just before she saw your life fall apart.

They came in the middle of April. You remember that day purely because of the flower blossoms littering the sidewalk, the first sign of blooming spring.

There were three other men besides Geto that day, and you hadn’t known his name back then—just the man with long, pretty hair. They were all waiting for you, loitering right beside your home. When you hesitated, slowed to a stop, the man with long hair smiled at you. Geto calls your name. When you don’t respond, his smile widened.

“That is who you are, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” you nervously said, “sorry, but—but who are you all?”

He introduces himself. The other three don’t bother. You don’t yet realize that they’re only henchmen, mere puppets for Geto.

“Apologies, but this is a rather sensitive subject. Can we talk someplace private?”

You don’t want to let these men into your home, but his soft words and intimidating company coax you into agreeing. You lead them up the steps, praying to God that you were wrong about this—whoever they were. When you unlock the door, only Geto follows you. The rest wait outside. You don’t know if that’s better or worse.

He seats himself right on the sofa. It’s your apartment, and yet his mere presence makes you feel like he’s the owner. You loiter next to the door, twiddling your thumbs.

“Would you like tea?”

He tilts his head. “Aren’t you a polite one?”

It was more for you than for him—scurrying to the kitchen, away from his searing purple eyes. It’s a reprieve to start the burner, pour water into the pot. You take as much time as you can, but eventually, you have to come out.

Geto says nothing when you place the cups down. He takes it, humming at the taste. You don’t touch your cup.

His tone is soft. His words aren’t.

Your father did far worse than work with dangerous men. He’d stolen from them. He was already dealt with, his punishment had sent him careening off the Earth far sooner than your mother. Still, the topic of the missing money was still there.

Something that had fallen onto you, his next of kin.

You were already crying once Geto finished. Your body is wracked with sobs. You can barely suck in a breath.

“Please—please,” you’re already saying, “he—we—I swear we never received any sort of money from him.”

He takes your hand within his own, curling his fingers around them. Coming from anyone else, it would have been a nice gesture.

“I’m aware,” Geto comforts, “we know you haven’t been in contact with your father for more than a decade.”

His fingers are warm. They trace your cheek as he gently wipes away your tears.

“But in this line of business, family matters, no matter how estranged, my Dear.”

You look at him through your tears. He’s beautiful. Long black hair. If you touched it, you bet it would feel like silk within your fingers.

It’s his eyes that truly suck you in. Purple. It’s a rare eye color, you’ve never seen someone with purple eyes until now. They resemble amethyst, unpolished, but still just as beautiful.

“My partner would have much less...humane ways of dealing with this situation,” Geto continues, “but I think you could be far more useful warm rather than cold, do you agree?” You shrivel in your spot, already having an inkling to what he’s saying. It’s not like you haven’t already figured out where this was going. You’ve heard the stories of what dangerous men do to those who’ve wronged them—to the vulnerable girls who accidentally trip and fall into their trap, forced to work in brothels and debase themselves all for the sake of keeping them rich.

He laughs right then. It’s rich, deep, startling you out of your misery.

"Come now, it's the 21st century."

Geto smiles. Fake. Unsafe. 

"Women are worth far more than just their bodies." 

It turns out that even the Yakuza had paperwork.

It was a menial deskjob, on the surface, at least. If you don’t think too hard about who you’re working for, it could be a regular office. It’s not like any of the work you are provided with is illegal, but you doubt you’d put it down on your resume.

Your education had saved you. Ironic that it was your father who instilled your desire to learn.

If you don’t think too hard about it, your new ‘job’ wasn’t horrible. As notorious as they were, your new employers weren’t downright cruel. You still got paid. You had a contract. Things could honestly be a whole lot worse.

It was still very hard to get used to, especially in the beginning.

Something you learned very quickly was that the men around here did not like it when women had an attitude. You were far too meek to have one, but the other few women who worked with you became your teachers, showing you exactly what the men would do if you didn’t stay in line. You were more than happy to listen, and even then, your eagerness to learn didn’t help. In order for the lesson to truly sink in, you needed trial and error. 

You stepped out of line exactly once. And then you never did it again.

It had been an accident. You’d forgotten that Geto had an important meeting that day. You knocked on his door, shuffling some documents in your hand. It was muscle memory to just go in because he’s never said anything but come in before.

They’d all stared at you, eyes lingering up and down your body. One of them grins. Immediately, you look at Geto. Horrified. Ready to grovel at his feet if need be.

His eyes flashed dangerously. Purple turned into sharp magenta knives. Geto tilted his head.

“Come here, dear.”

You take one step. Another. Then another. The way they look at you makes your stomach twist and sink but Geto only looks at you expectantly. When you linger at his side, his lips quirk.

His grip on your waist is gentle as he guides you into his lap. Your cheeks burn, but you don’t dare move, not even when the men start laughing at the free show. Geto only curls a hand on your waist, keeping you in place as he leans back again.

“Continue, gentlemen.”

The rest of the meeting continues with you on Geto’s lap. You don’t look at any of them, hands balled into fists at your sides. You feel naked. The air within the room is stifling. You refuse to look anywhere else but the floor.

The conversation goes back to business. Despite the compromising situation, he put you in, Geto’s hands don’t wander. He's content to keep his fingers on your waist until the room filters out and everyone leaves.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Geto.” You murmur, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

He doesn’t answer, at least not to that. He just sighs, sinking into his seat. Still, Geto doesn’t let you get up. Not yet. He waits until you’re looking at him, still smiling that fake smile.

This had been a punishment. The next time you made a mistake, you doubt you’d be let off so easily.

“Learn quickly, my dear.”

You nod. You apologize again. When Geto finally lets you go, you are quick to stumble away, pushing your way out the door. Purple eyes follow you out. You don’t think they stop looking until you’re out of the room, curled into your desk, steadying your heartbeat.

You stepped out of line exactly once. You never did it again.

Despite being under Geto, technically, Ijichi is your direct superior. You thanked the Gods for it. Ijichi was the only person here you were certain didn’t have blood on his hands. He was in a similar situation as you were; stuck working off a debt that he didn’t owe. You two bonded on your shared misery. He was the one reprieve you had in your new life.

Unfortunately, now that Gojo was back, Ijichi was far busier. It gave you little time with him. You suppose you were always welcome to join them, but considering your first encounter with Gojo, you’d much rather not.

It’s not like you hadn’t had similar encounters before Gojo's arrival. In the very beginning, one of Geto’s men tried something remarkably similar. You can still remember his hand on your hip, his other hand slowly unbuttoning your shirt while other men stood to the side laughing.

It hadn’t lasted long.

You didn’t realize he was shot until he was already on the ground, twitching in pure agony. He screamed and cried louder than you had. Blood was already dripping to the floor.

Geto had already tucked away the gun, striding away as though nothing happened. He didn’t say anything, the incident was never mentioned. Even to you, his statement rang loud and clear.

You were off-limits.

Clearly, Gojo didn’t care about the unspoken rule.

So far, Ijichi hasn’t acknowledged him. If anything, your superior is hunched behind his computer, typing away, rarely taking his eyes off-screen. You admired his concentration, but it was hard for you to follow suit, considering that Gojo had taken a seat right next to you.

His stare is impossible to ignore. You can feel it even as you desperately try to focus on the screen in front of you. As if he can tell you’re intimidated by his mere presence, he leans over, shoulder pressing against your own. You could practically hear the grin in his voice.

“Watcha’ workin’ on?” He asks as though he can’t already see.

Still, you falter. “Um—”

“Um’” he repeats, “that’s all you’ve been sayin’. Hey, Ijichi—” The man in question jolts up, eyes already panicked.

“Your assistant always this jumpy, or is your personality just that infectious?”

“Sir, uh—” Ijichi starts before getting cut off by a tsk.

“See? Again,” Gojo sighs, “I see why you two get along so well.”

You and Ijichi exchange glances, unsure what to do. When Gojo says nothing more, you decide it’s okay to resume work again, typing away.

Childhood friends, Ijichi told you back when you were still morbidly curious. Gojo had come from a lineage of powerful businessmen. Geto had more or less worked his way up. They became partners somewhere along that time.

It’s hard to imagine them as friends or as anything more. They’re so different. Geto is so controlled, measured with every response he takes. Gojo is more like dynamite, ready to go off at any moment.

You suppose the only similarity is how unreadable they are. To this day, you can’t tell whether Gojo dislikes you or not. Every action you take seems only to disappoint him, yet he constantly hovers around you.

It takes another minute for you to be on the keyboard before Gojo decides he doesn’t like you working peacefully. The chair creaks under his weight as he shifts closer. His head rests against your shoulder. With his new position, you can feel his breath on your collarbone as an arm casually wraps around your shoulders. You don’t dare react, but you send Ijichi a panicked look. He looks sympathetic, but he doesn’t move to help you. You can’t find it in yourself to fault him for his inactions.

“You never answered me, by the way.” He murmurs, quiet enough that only you can hear.

You respond as diligently as you can, making sure you use as few word fillers as possible. It’s clear Gojo doesn’t like that. Or rather, he doesn’t like the nervousness your voice exudes but you doubt you could fix it, especially with his presence around.

“Sounds boring.” Gojo interrupts your rambles. “You don’t do anything else more entertaining?”

“No, sir,” you reply, “I’m only in charge of paperwork.”

Despite the other co-workers you have, you are still an anomaly. Everyone here has had an experience holding a gun—even Ijichi. It’s clear Geto ‘hiring’ you was a change in pattern, something you would always be grateful for. If he hadn't, you wouldn’t want to know what was in store for you.

That’s probably why Gojo was so curious about you. However, considering how close they were, you were now wondering why Geto hadn’t explained it.

“How long have you been working here—hey,look at me when you’re talking.”

You turn, and for the first time, you willingly face Gojo Satoru. His sunglasses are tilted down, and you can see his eyes now. They are blue, so painfully blue, like an ocean, curled up tightly within his eyes. Glittering tanzanite stares back at you—beautiful gemstones that glisten beneath the fluorescent light.

Gojo tilts his head, and you remember that he asked you a question.

“Three weeks, Sir.”

He doesn’t seem all that pleased with your answer. You wonder if you should have lied instead. He’s embarrassingly close, and the position he’s forced you into doesn’t help.

“That quick, huh?” Gojo murmurs, and he sounds a little impressed, “how many times have you and Suguru fucked?”

You gape at him, horrified at even the insinuation. It takes a while for you to even find your voice. 

“I—we’ve never. Never.”

Gojo narrows his eyes. “You don’t have to lie to me. C’mon, I'm just curious.”

It feels even worse that Gojo's question isn't even unreasonable. Geto has always treated you differently. Softer. Kinder, if you wanted to be charitable. It isn't a stretch to assume you've been doing favors for the man, in this line of work, it must be a normal occurrence. Yet, you haven't. Apart from that one blunder weeks ago, Geto has never touched you inappropriately. 

Still, you shake your head rapidly, feeling heat flush in your cheeks. Being cornered and interrogated like this is humiliating, especially in front of everyone. Ijichi is nice enough to look away while you’re being humiliated, but you know he’s listening. You know everyone’s listening.

Thankfully, Geto intervenes.

“You.” A sigh of exasperation. “Get off.”

Gojo rolls his eyes, but you almost cry in relief when he pushes away and stands up.

“We were bonding,” Gojo argues, though, like everything he says, it sounds like a tease.

Geto’s murmuring something else, and it’s clear that this interaction between them is normal. It's almost a repetition of what happened last time. Both times, you’d been the commonality.

Gojo leaves eventually, shooed away by his partner. The office finally grows quiet when the white-haired man disappears to God knows where. You feel like you can breathe again, but Geto still has not left.

When you look, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose, and you’re strangely reminded of a stressed mother. Finally, he lets out a breath, opening his eyes and staring down at you.

“I apologize for his behavior, my dear,” he says. There’s a hand on your shoulder, mirroring the touch Gojo gave you.

“He’s excitable, like a dog.” You don’t think that part was for you, though you don’t think you could ever even fathom comparing the terrifying anomaly that is Gojo to a mutt. You don’t respond. Geto squeezes your shoulder.

“Come to me if Satoru goes too far. I always take care of my people, don't I?”

He doesn’t leave until you give a nod. His hand finally retracts, allowing you to sink into your seat. You watch him until his figure disappears from view.

“I’m taking a break,” you say, not even a minute later.

Ijichi gives a nod as you push yourself up away from the computer. You spend your break the way you usually do: tucked inside the bathroom, trying to wonder how your life turned out this way.

⟡

Sometimes, you accompany Geto on his trips.

You don’t want to, but it’s not like you can reject his ‘requests.’ It’s part of the job, whether or not you can refuse is up to Geto’s whims.

The trips aren’t too bad. Most of the time, it’s a meeting with other dangerous men. You mainly just sit in a corner, peering down at the ground, trying your best not to be noticed. It works, most of the time. The few perks of this new life is how seldom the people of the underground want to associate with you, especially when you're with Geto. His presence is everywhere, a blanket of protection bestowed only to you. These days, you feel safe even when walking home alone at night.  

The trips aren't too bad, but Gojo's insistence on tagging along changed even that. 

You should be sitting up front. There's a perfectly vacate passenger seat, right beside Ijichi, the least dangerous man in the vehicle. Gojo had practically dragged you into the car with him, holding you hostage. Geto slid into the seat beside you, effectively trapping you between the two men. 

Despite your attempts to keep your body to yourself, every other minute, your thighs brush against theirs. It's a miserable affair, but neither comment on your breach of personal space. They're both too invested in their own little worlds. Geto peers peacefully out the window, enjoying the city life pass by. Gojo is glued to his phone, tapping away every so often. 

It's tempting to sneak a peek at them in their natural states, relaxed, unbothered. You don't stare for too long. 

Every so often, their worlds will collide. Geto will point out a cat. Gojo would reach over you, showing Geto something funny on his phone. Unfortunately, Gojo catches your lingering eyes.

"Wanna see?" He doesn't bother to hear your response, shoving his phone in your face. 

It's a cat video, of all things. You almost wanted to laugh at how normal it is, but you're too intimidated to do anything but give a strained smile, more designed to please. You expected something darker. More blood. More screams. On the screen, the orange kitten lightly bats at a ball of yarn.

"Got a cat?" Gojo asks, tucking away his phone. 

"No, Mr. Gojo." 

He tsks, but before your blood can freeze, he says, "I told you: It's Satoru." 

He's been insistent about it these past few days: Satoru. Satoru. Call me Satoru, as though you'd even dare. Beside you, Geto rumbles out his disapproval. 

"Don't be childish, Satoru." He chides.

The car rolls to a stop eventually. The relief in your lungs expands. Ijichi gets out first, followed by Geto. Before you can move, a hand grabs you by the chin, halting your movements. 

"You're not leaving this car until you say it, pretty thing," Gojo tells you. "C'mon. Sa-to-ru." 

Behind you, Geto sighs, but he doesn't move to stop him. Right, Geto promised he'd step in only when Gojo goes too far. Clearly, this is within his bounds. 

You wilt under the hardened tanzanite. 

"Satoru." You mutter. 

Satisfied, Gojo releases his hold on you, hopping out the car, humming a happy tune. 

Geto holds his hand out to you. You'd be an idiot not to take it.

"Bear with him today, dear," he tells you when you step out in the pavement, "he's in a mood." 

Amythyst sears into you. You can only nod. 

Even then, Geto doesn't release you. He gently maneuvers your arm until your elbow is interlocked with his. He takes his time, walking into the building, mindful of your heels. Ijichi and Gojo are already ahead. Gojo takes a look behind him, spots the two of you, scoffs, but doesn't do much more. 

It's another thing you don't know how to feel about. The two have always instigated less than friendly gestures toward you. Yet, neither of the two have expressed any kind of jealousy. You know they are clearly lovers, yet the way they allow their significant other to behave with you makes you feel a bit nauseous. 

 Most likely, they see you as a pet. Not even a threat to their relationship. It makes sense. In their eyes, you're probably a scared gazelle in the middle of a lion's den. Cute. Something to play with. 

There's another theory in your head that you're pushing away.

You follow the same procedure you've always followed. You stay still and silent, like a doll, right beside Geto. Strange men come up to him, greeting him with smug smiles. They barely give you a glance. That's good. It means they know you're one of Geto's. 

Gojo being there changes the dynamic. He's more serious, in this setting. You sit right next to Geto's side, listening as Gojo talks. They both do that a lot. Talking. Negotiating. Scheming. You're a bit disappointed in yourself at how easy it is to let the words swirl around until there's nothing left to understand. It's easy to ignore them now. The horrors they partake in. The horrors you are indirectly part of. 

Are you allowed to be innocent now that you work under these people? You've never pulled the trigger yourself, but is that an excuse? Morally speaking, you're the same as the men you are terrified of. 

How laughable. You came to that conclusion right when they were discussing the price of narcotics. 

Sometime later, you find yourself alone, roaming down an unfamiliar hall. It's foolish to be out without Geto or Gojo or even Ijichi, but Geto had an errand he wanted you to run. Now that it was complete, you needed to return back to him. 

Except, you had no clue where he was. 

You were lost. You should have known this would happen. Why didn't you pay more attention to where you were going? This wasn't any old building. Dangerous men lurked around, even the weaker ones carried guns and weapons. 

It was only a matter of time before one of them caught you. 

"Hey. You." 

You were considered one of Geto's, but without him in sight, you were nothing. You knew that. It's why you cower immediately. 

"I'm busy," you speak quickly, "My boss, Mr. Geto, he's—" 

His hand is rough and scared and filthy on your skin. You are basically thrown against the wall, cornered against this stranger. He smiles. His teeth are yellowed and filled with tarter and plaque. 

"C'mon, there's no need to rush. 'Just wanna have some fun. How much?" Disgust rolls off your tongue, but you don't have the courage to reveal it. 

"I'm not like that," you mutter, "I'm not for sale." 

But, aren't you? You've sold yourself to Geto, haven't you? Underneath his thumb, his whims. What makes you so much different from a hooker?

"Sure." And then there's a shift in his eyes. His face scrunches up, like he's just tasted something sour. 

"Hold on...you're—you're that bastard's kid, aren't you?" 

He says your last name, the name your father gave you with so much spite that you nearly flinch. In that moment, you realized that your father had messed with a lot more people than just Geto. 

"Yeah yeah, you're a spitting fucking image!" He gripes you harsher. "Your daddy fucked me over while you're sitting over here nice and pretty? What the fuck?" 

He's dead. He's dead and you hadn't spoken to him in over a decade, but his ghost still wants to punish you for being his kin. And this man is his executioner. 

You're expecting something violent. Something that hurt more than his hand's squeezing your bicep. Perhaps he was, perhaps he would. Unfortunately, for him, Gojo interupted his plans. 

You didn't even know that it was him, at first, on the floor, on top of the man. Gojo, despite his hungry smile, eager eyes, was always so angelic. He isn't supposed to be using his hands. He isn't supposed to inflict violence, not by himself. 

He's punching him. The man isn't a man anymore, reduced to a mere punching back. Gojo doesn't stop until he breaks skin. He doesn't stop until you can hear a distinct crack. 

Satoru doesn't stop until Suguru tells him to. 

"Don't kill him." Geto warns. "It'd breach the agreement." 

You can feel his presence, always silent, never revealing himself until he wants to be known. So unlike Gojo, who is hungry for even a second of attention. More than happy to spill blood over it.

Gojo grits his teeth, as though he's debating to even listen. He stands up eventually, chest heaving. His knuckles are caked in blood. It's not his. His glasses are off. His eyes are blown wide open like he's just hit the greatest high of his life. Geto calmly hands him a clean towel. You don’t want to know how many times this situation has repeated.

"Who gives a shit." Gojo bites out, his eyes , trailing to you, and you flinch away. He looks like a wild animal, growling and spitting. You don’t want to be next on his plate. Geto steps in front of you, barricading you from his sight.

The man on the ground had recovered enough to pathetically crawl away. It such a stark change to how he was just a few minutes ago, when he was lording over you, drunk off of his power. 

Gojo steps on his calf. The broken thing gives a strangled scream. It only makes Gojo’s manic grin wider.

"Let him go. You made your point," Geto says, "calm down." 

Firey blue eyes. Bright and violent. You don’t know how Suguru is able to withstand the intensity. Even you’re wilting when it’s not even directed towards you.

"Calm down?” Satoru asks. “You want me to calm down? Did you see what that bastard was gonna do to our—" 

"Satoru." You've never heard Geto use this tone before. "Not here. Not now." 

A silent battle warred between them. Tanzanite bore into amethyst. Which gem would rupture first, splinter into defeat? 

Eventually, Gojo looks away, cursing. He glares down at you, as though he were blaming your weakness of all things. In a way, he’s not wrong to.

"I'll wait outside." 

And then he's gone, striding down the corridor. Geto watches him go, before glancing down at you. 

"Did he hurt you?" He asks. 

You're not supposed to lie to him. You nod. 

Geto pulls on your sleeves until he can see the imprints. Light bruising, nothing too horrible. You'll survive. Geto looks less than pleased. He glances down at the remnants of the man, the imprints of blood on the floor. You pitied the person who'd have to clean it up. 

"I apologize, dear." He sighs. "I should have kept an eye on you." 

He stares at the blood some more. Then, he smiles. 

"Perhaps, it's better if I just let things run its course, this time." 

You blink at him. He ignores your silent question. Instead, he wraps his arm around your shoulders, gently leading you outside. The car is already running. This time, Geto silently ushers you into the passenger seat. You take it immediately. Gojo hadn't taken his eyes off of you. You're grateful for any barrier. 

This time, the car ride was silent. You don't relish in it. If anything, it just feels like the calm before the storm.

⟡

Soon, what Geto was talking about became apparent. 

The man who had nearly been killed by Gojo had talked. You don't know what your father did to these men, perhaps you never will, but they didn't let you forget his crimes. If they couldn't get to him, then clearly, his kid was the next best option. You know it was them. It would be no one else. 

Someone broke into your apartment one weekend. Everything was ruined. The TV was shattered and broken. Your mattress was tossed onto the floor. Every plate, cup, and bowl was smashed onto the floor. They took nothing, but they broke everything. 

You hadn't been home that night. Ijichi needed more work from you. If you had, if you had come home that night, alone, locked the door, slept in that bed, then what would have—

Geto finds you on the stairs of your apartment, curled into a ball. You watch with bloodshot eyes as he observes the damage, clicking his tongue. He doesn't look particularly shocked.

You do nothing when you feel his hand on your shoulder, brushing against the sleeves, a feign of sympathy. You don't even care to ask how he came even though you never called him. Geto has a keen sense for you. 

"It'll get worse." His voice comes. Soft, and sure. 

Yeah, you knew that. You'd been naive, following after Geto with wide eyes. You thought that if he was untouchable, then so were you. 

He speaks about an enemy group, people with debts with your father, just as he did. Of course, he knows who did this to you. You’d be more surprised if he didn’t.

You don’t care. His words go in one ear and out the other. The reasons don’t matter. Your home is still destroyed. It’s no longer yours.

"They got my phone, too," you mention to your discarded cell phone. "My emails, messages." 

You're trapped, with nowhere else to turn. All the doors are shut and bolted, and only one remains open. 

You turn to the devil. 

"Can you...help?" 

The angler fish uses its darkened habitat to its advantage. Hundreds of miles beneath the water's surface, it produces its own light as an olfactory bulb. It's an excellent predator, swinging its bio lantern around in the dark sea, the only light around for miles. 

Geto tilts his head, a smile on perfect pink lips. 

"You want my protection? It's a steep price, darling." 

You feel like an empty well, forced to give and give until you're all dried up. Who could be so greedy? Who could be so willing to take?

"I've given you everything." It's barely a whisper. "What else do I have left to offer?" 

He doesn't say anything to that, not at first. Geto kneels in front of you, a slender hand lifting your head up by the chin. Fingers trail down to your neck. Not choking, just holding. His thumb lightly presses into your throat. 

"Not everything," Suguru says quietly. 

He's right. You hadn't given him everything. So far, you have always been one of Geto's people. You were Geto's employee. You were indebted to him, but you weren't conquered by him. 

Not yet. 

He's kneeling in front of you, holding your soul in his hands and demanding for your heart. In a way, you find it a bit funny. You just don’t have the will to laugh anymore.

He's smiling again when he can tell you're finally starting to understand. "We couldn't have been that subtle, were we? Satoru never failed to express, at the very least." 

No, they never tried to hide it. Even in the beginning, when you first met Suguru, you saw the hunger. You just tried to ignore it. You tried to keep your head in the sand, hoping it would pass. It makes you wonder if you had just agreed on that very night, led him into your bed, and bared it, would things have been different? 

"I can leave. We can pretend this never happened," he coos, "it's all up to you, sweetheart." 

He's making it seem like you had a choice. In a way, you did. You're choosing between two monsters. A known and an unknown. It takes longer than you'd like to figure out which one scares you more. 

You take the bait. The angler fish siezes its prey. 

"One night?" You're trying not to beg but it's coming out anyway. "Just—just one night?" 

Geto leans forward, pressing a kiss on your forehead. It’s not an answer.

⟡

Despite the many months you've worked with him, you've never been to his home before. 

It's not a house. A villa maybe. The property stretches itself stretches for miles. Filthy rich. Bleeding gold. 

Geto—

("Suguru," he corrected you in the car, "considering this isn't really business, anymore.") 

—had ushered you throw a double-door entrance. You couldn't even admire the architecture. Not when Gojo was already standing there. His eyes were hidden away, tucked underneath his glasses, but you still felt his stare. And all too wide smile stretched on his lips. He greeted Suguru with a kiss. For the first time, you looked down at their hands. 

Matching rings. 

You felt sick. 

'It's all up to you, sweetheart' Suguru's voice rings through your head all through a dinner that's really nothing but a flimsy padding for the rest of the night. Food was served, wine was poured, all in a bid to ease you into it. As of right now, it's still your 'choice'. You know, without a doubt, if you backed out now, they'd let you go without a fuss. Suguru or Satoru themselves might drive you home. You'd crawl into bed without a scratch.

But you don't. You stare at your plate, picking at it when they ask questions. Satoru's in such a good mood he offers to feed you. 

It's mostly because it doesn't feel real yet. You feel like you're watching yourself go through the movements. Eat. Speak when spoken to. Smile when prompted. Empty. 

You only come back when you're standing in their room, and the door locks with a click. 

The window blinds are drawn, but there's no light to seep in. The moon is already out. You wonder how many hours you've already spent here. 

You take another step towards the bed. Then, you turn around. 

Satoru and Suguru stare right back. You feel their heavy gazes immediately, flicking your eyes down to your feet, playing with your sleeves. 

Satoru laughs, perceiving the terror as shyness, or maybe he doesn't care. He steps forward first. 

"Don't be like that." He lightly chastises you, tucking one arm around your waist. "We'll be nice. Promise, baby. We're gonna be so so good for you." 

He finds your lips, then. Satoru kisses like the sun, all fire and passion. Sinking into you, wanting to melt. It's impossible to turn away and ignore his presence. He gropes at your chest, your waist, trying to feel all of you at once. When he finally lets go, you feel dizzy. 

Suguru's kisses ground you, makes remember where you are, who you're with. He's like the Earth you're crashing back into from your high. You hurdle through the atmosphere as his hands grasp at your throat. He never squeezes, but it's more than enough to sober you. 

"You smell so nice, baby," Satoru says from his place at your neck. You flinch when teeth sink into your sink, but you don't complain. 

"That's creepy, Satoru." Suguru chastizes him.

Serpentine eyes stare into yours. You don’t get the chance to hide before you feel his breath on your cheek. Suguru tugs at the hem of your dress.

“Take this off.” He whispers into your skin. “And get on the bed for us, sweetheart.”

This is the lesser monster. It’s a mantra you repeat in your head as you pliantly nod, hesitantly gripping the fabric of your dress. It’s horrifically easy to take it off and let it drop by your feet. You can’t bear to look at them anymore.

The soft duvet sinks under your weight. It looks expensive. Silky pillows. On either side is a nightstand covered with trinkets and personal items. You spot one of Suguru’s shirts on the floor, and it takes you a second to realize this is their room, not an impersonal guest room they use to fuck the less fortunate.

They stop paying attention to you. Satoru moans loudly into Suguru’s mouth. Suguru fiddles with the buttons on Satoru’s shirt, close to ripping it off entirely. Satoru palms at the tent in his pants as he unbuckles his pants. Suguru loosens his tie. They’re so violent with each other. Dread soaks through your palms, and you curl even further within yourself. You prayed this was all they wanted from you—someone to just watch, someone less interactive.

It’s not. When they pull away, their lips are swollen. Satoru leers at you, licking at his busted lip. You can’t seem to cry anymore.

They’re both half-naked. You can see the tattoos spread on Suguru’s hand, crawling up to his shoulder. Another peeks just behind Satoru’s neck. You only get a glimpse before he’s on top of you, eager for a continuation.

“Shit, you’re so soft.” He hisses as he squeezes your bra-covered breast. It doesn’t stay on for long. You wince when his fingers trace over your sensitive tits.

Your hands squeeze into fists, because you choose this, choose them. Satoru’s more than happy to sink into your breasts. His warm tongue swirls around a nipple before fully taking it in his mouth.

“Like a baby,” Suguru says. Satoru scoffs, tossing him an impressed look.

“Shut up.” Satoru releases your breast with a wet-sounding pop. They’ll be marks there tomorrow.

His fingers trail down your breasts, your ribs, your stomach. They linger on the band of your panties.

You can’t help it. It’s instinct.

He freezes when your fingers snap around his wrist. There’s no strength behind your grip, he pauses more out of surprise than anything.

His eyes, filled with hardened tanzanite, shoot up to yours. You think, if they’d be anyone else’s, you would have envied them.

He doesn’t say anything. Neither does Suguru. The silence is crushing.

“Sorry.” You feel pathetic apologizing, but it’s outweighed by the fear. “I—I’m sorry. I was just—”

“It’s okay, dear,” Suguru coos. “Satoru just scared you, hm? He’s such an idiot, isn’t he?” He violently smacks Satoru on the head. You flinch at the sound. Satoru just whines, rubbing at his temple.

“Mean.” Satoru childishly says, but he’s slower now, rolling down the hem of your panties.

Suguru is quick to distract you. He’s busy with his own bottoms before he’s taking you by the chin.

His cock is already leaking precum. He’s big, and you don’t think you’ll be able to do want he wants. Suguru smiles down at you, he doesn’t need to say anything. You’re swallowing down your self-hatred before opening your mouth.

You take him in just when Satoru buries his face between your thighs. The two of you have very different reacts. Satoru just hums, finding your clit to lick. You gasp, your legs jolting as you accidentally take Suguru even deeper.

He’s nice enough to let you go at your own pace. There’s a hand on your head, petting you, easing you through the process. Even then, your mouth is stretched uncomfortably wide. Tears prick at your eyes. Suguru’s face gets blurry. You don’t think you want to look anymore.

Below you, Satoru is enjoying his meal. He’s slobbering on your pussy, eating you out like it’s his last meal. His hot tongue finds his way into your sopping hole. You squeeze your eyes, a muffled whine comes from your mouth. The only loss of control Suguru shows was how he ever-so-slightly gripped your head.

By then, you’re unintentionally squeezing Satoru’s head in between your thighs. It’s so much. Pleasure tingles up your spine as Satoru continues to worship your pussy. His nose grinds into your clit and, for a moment, you’re wondering how he’s even breathing.

Suguru’s close. You can feel it every time his balls slap your chin. He’s speaking now, words stilted and heavy. It’s the only hint you get that he’s only holding his control by his teeth. That thought scares you. At any moment he’d snap, choking you with his cock, let you suffocate while he fills your dying mouth with his cum.

“Good,” he’s hissing out, “so good—good for me. C’mon, baby, take it.”

Satoru’s hand squeezes your ass, urging you to arch off the bed. You come like that, pressing your thighs around Satoru’s head, moaning around Suguru’s dick.

Suguru barely gives a grunt before something salty fills your mouth. You have to swallow it down. It burns your throat.

The air tastes sweet by the time Suguru’s cock leaves your mouth. You’re sucking in deep breaths, breasts heaving. Incidentally, you hadn’t suffocated Satoru. He’s kissing his way up your body. A trickle of Suguru’s cum had escaped your lips. His tongue presses against your chin before he pushes it back into your mouth. You can taste your tangy essence on his lips.

“Gotta’ swallow it all,” Satoru says with a teasing lilt, “he gets mad when it’s wasted.”

You can only nod. He gives you another wet kiss before he pulls away.

They switch places, Suguru moving over until he’s between your thighs. His large cock lays on your cunt. He’s still hard, his cock twitches when he angles his hips down, letting the head run over your leaking slit.

“The only reason he's going first is ‘cuz he’s been pining for you for months.” Satoru murmurs into your ear. Strangely enough, Suguru doesn’t comment. Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend what that means.

You hold your breath just as he presses himself inside. You’re almost grateful Satoru took the time to prepare you. His salivia, and your stretched walls make it easier for Suguru to bury his length inside you.

It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. You hiss. Satoru feels enough sympathy to coo at you, kissing your neck, trying to distract you from the pain. It doesn't help, not even when Suguru presses light circles into your clit, easing his way through.

Suguru’s giving a harsh laugh when he’s fully seated inside, his hips meeting yours.

“Feel good, hm?” Satoru goads, reaching up to nibble on Suguru’s ear.

“Shit, so tight—fuck.”

Your hips twitch and you’re clenching down on him. Suguru doubles over, gritting his teeth.

“Oh, darling.” Scarred hands grasp your neck. “I’m going to ruin you, aren’t I?”

Your bottom lip wobbles. He’s eyeing you like a piece of meat. A gazelle in the lion’s den. To them, to men like them, you suppose you’re nothing more.

“Suguru.” You whisper because your voice is failing you. “You-you promised you’d be nice.”

Silence. And he’s laughing so hard his shoulders shake. They both are.

“We did promise that, didn’t we?” Suguru glances at Satoru. “Next time, then.”

He pulls his cock out of you slowly, dragging his head through your cunt. He’s so slow and deliberate that you think it’d feel better if he just went ahead and fucked you already.

And he was, technically. His hips rolled back into you, his cock disappearing inside your wet pussy with each thrust. It’s so much that you’re willingly arching your back, trying to do anything to alleviate the intensity.

Beside you, Satoru is pulling out his cock, his eyes never leaving the lewd sight of Suguru fucking himself into you.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he’s cursing under his breath, fisting his cocl in one hand, “so fuckin’ hot.”

Suguru growls, grabbing Satoru’s stiff cock, crudely pumping his hand up and down. His movement are getting more erratic losing his pace, his patience. You’re at your end too, almost crying when someone squeezes your sensitive tits.

“How does it feel, darling?” Suguru asks with a ragged breath. His eyes are blown, you don’t even think he’s looking at you, anymore.

When you don't give an answer fast enough, Suguru snaps his hips punishingly in response. You give a sharp wail.

“I said.” Suguru hisses through his teeth. “Tell me how it feels.”

You can barely suck in a breath. You’re losing oxygen too fast.

But you’ll die if he keeps doing this.

“Good.” You tell the truth. “It—it feels good, Suguru.”

He grins, serpentine. You’ve lost a game you didn’t even know you were playing. His fingers descend on your clit.

“That’s my perfect darling.”

You sob when your walls clench around his cock, milking him dry. Your orgasm triggers his own. He curses, and something is spilled into your used cunt. Out the corner of your eye, Suguru and Satoru are kissing, going together like rabid dogs. Satoru shudders, and then all three of you are a panting mess.

You take in deep breaths, barely caring when Suguru lets out an exhausted laugh, collapsing into your chest. He licks at your sweaty skin. You just sink your head further into the pillows

It was over. It was finally over.

“You got it everywhere.” Suguru suddenly says, disgusted. He wipes Satoru’s cum off your stomach.

Satoru just snorts.

“I didn’t have a hole to dump it all in.” He snarks back. “Twice, by the way. So selfish, Sugu.”

“Quit whining.” Suguru groans. “You have your chance now, don’t you?”

What? Exhaustion blinks away.

Suguru stays by your side. Gojo is the one moving, rising from the blankets. He places his hands on either side of your hips, spreading your legs.

Geto catches your panic, easily catching you before you can even do anything. He hushes you while Satoru settles himself between your thighs, his cock pressing right at your slit.

“The night’s still young, dear.” He sounds almost sympathetic. “Be good for just a bit longer.”

By the time they’re finally done with you, it’d been hours. You can’t count how many positions they put you in, how many times your holes were filled by their cocks or their fingers or their mouths. You’re barely coherent by the time Suguru is tucking you under the soft duvet.

You feel sore and used and dirty. His soft words, filled with praises, just make you feel worse. Despite how exhausted you feel, you’re just waiting until they finally get bored of seeing your body and kick you out.

You’ll call a cab home. You’ll cry yourself to sleep. You’ll be okay.

They’re taking a while to get to that part. They’re mumbling soft words too each other, it sounds too intimate to be something you should be overhearing. Satoru’s at your back, hands curling around your waist, another brushing Suguru’s mussed hair. You can feel his soft breath at the nape of your neck.

Suguru’s eyes are on you. Amethyst watches you intently.

"Satoru,” he finally says, “go uphold our end of the deal." 

Gojo groans, annoyed. He snuggles closer to you. "Why me? You go do it." 

An adoring smile crinkles on Suguru’s lips. It makes him look younger.

"Because I don't trust you alone with this one for the night. Go."

“Ass.”

He sighs, but Gojo sits up, letting the covers shift off his naked body. 

"Stay right here for me, baby, 'kay?" He leans over, pressing a delicate kiss on your hairline. Despite everything that happened tonight, this was the most intimate thing he'd done to you. It's too...loving.

When Satoru leaves, you wait for a few moments. Suguru had yet to tell you to go. It probably meant that he didn’t want to waste his breath dismissing you. You take the hint, rising from the bed.

His fingers snap around you wrist just as your feet touch the floor.

“Where are you going?” His voice doesn’t sound accusatory, but you flinch anyway.

A wobbly smile makes its way across your face, you hope it comes across as submissive. Weren’t you done? The deal was made, that meant you could leave now, right?

"I—I need to go home?" Suguru gives a doting smile, as though you said something adoringly naive. He barely pulls on your hand, gently leading you back under the covers.

You follow because the gun glints by the nightstand. 

“Is that the best idea right now, dear?” He asks, “Who knows if those men have come back? I’d hate to see them find their target, wouldn’t you?”

He draws you into his chest. Your head is tucked underneath his chin.

“And besides, Satoru will be disappointed if you left without saying goodbye. It’d be horrible to deal with one of his tantrums so late at night.”

He buries his face into your hair, inhaling your scent.

“Why don’t you leave in the morning? I’ll be sure to drive you back myself. By then, I’m sure Satoru will have made the proper arrangements. Don’t tell him I told you this, but—” Suguru drops his voice as though he’s scared someone might overhear”—he tends to be more efficient when you’re in the picture.”

You don’t know what he means by that, and you don’t think you want to know. Still, you lift your head, finding the courage to stare at him.

His eyes are such a beautiful color. Glittering purple in the moonlight. You’d stare at them all night if you could.

“I can leave in the morning?”

Suguru hums, kissing your forehead.

It’s not an answer.

i'm addicted to him. even just his presence drives me up a wall

Love Me Wrong [03 ; Control]

content: amnesia, manipulation, yandere themes, noncon, dubcon, smut, rimming, double penetration, anal sex, vaginal sex, fauxcest, exhibitionism, haitani sandwich, dry-humping, implied somno

featuring: rindou x reader x ran, mikey x reader

note: the story continues with the haitani brothers. this is probably the filthiest thing i've ever written but ran and rin deserve this and so much more. dark content ahead so minors can not-so kindly f*ck off! also, feel free to reblog, drop an ask, or leave a comment <3

words: 3.5k

other: masterlist ; @tometpd ; @hanayanetwork ; @tokyoredlightdistrict

There were few things Ran Haitani genuinely cared about in this world. They were things he’d made sure to include in his daily routine and had done so for over a decade now. In fact, they were the motivating factors behind everything he did. While others considered Ran Haitani to be an enigma, he liked to believe he was as uncomplicated as they came.

Because the only things Ran Haitani cared about were his younger brother’s happiness, the state of his hair, and having enough rolled-up bills in the safe to ensure both in case things went south with Bonten. An event that seemed more unlikely as time went on but one that Ran didn’t cross out entirely, because no matter how stable things had been for the organization, there was always a chance. And after doing time, Ran liked to think he’d matured a bit no matter how much Rin insisted otherwise.

It was that glass-half-empty mentality when it came to Bonten that made him particularly precautious when it came to the kidnapping of Kisaki’s sister–even if her memories were a tangled mess behind those fogged eyes of hers. Somehow she’d reverted to being the annoyingly clingy girl that’d sought out her brother during Ran’s time in Tenjiku. Except now, instead of being rebuffed by cold blue eyes and derisive insults, her devotion was soaked up by hollow black eyes and a corpse-like face that twitched to life more often than ever before.

The ticking emotional timebomb that was Manjiro Sano was being poked and prodded by a girl-like woman, and that was enough of a reason for Ran Haitani to do everything in his power to deter the explosion.

But when his efforts were intersected by his little brother’s growing affection for Mikey’s “sister”, Ran switched gears and dedicated himself to his brother’s happiness. Even if that happiness meant Ran would have to stuff a few more rolls into the safe to steer clear of the impending calamity.

A calamity that Rindou, like his older brother, knew would happen sooner rather than later thanks to Kisaki’s annoying sister. He’d also known her from their Tenjiku days, back when Izana Kurokawa had teamed up with the girl’s real brother to bring down the ‘Invincible Mikey’. That hadn’t been the case and a decade later they paid homage to one of them while regarding the other and anyone close to him as a stain that needed to be wiped clean.

And yet the woman who’d once called Kisaki Tetta ‘brother’ was spared by Mikey; a gesture that everyone except Sanzu had deemed generous until their leader’s nefarious intentions came to light one evening. The woman was declared Bonten’s whore and her first client was Sanzu while Mikey watched.

Also like his brother, Rindou liked to believe he’d also matured from being the bespectacled teen that’d been quick to start throwing punches. He knew how to hold himself back and preferred to use his brain instead of his fists to inflict torturous pain on those who crossed him–that sadistic side of his hadn’t changed.

Kisaki’s sister was also just as annoying as she’d been back then, but instead of slamming her head against the kitchen island she used to prepare her endless attempts of fattening up Mikey, Rindou wanted to fuck her against it.

He wanted to gag her mouth with the kitchen towel she always dried her hands with, tie her hands behind her back with the apron that was like a second skin to her, bend her over the marble counter she used to knead dough, and fuck her tight little ass; a hole he’d be willing to bet, was untouched by anyone.

Because as much as Rindou had hated the annoying little bitch years ago, he wanted the naive, doe-eyed woman she’d become. He needed to be the next person Mikey deemed worthy of fucking her, and luckily for him, he had a brother that would stop at nothing to make that happen.

All of Bonten’s top administration had a role to fill; a section of the organization to oversee. For the Haitani brothers, this was the entertainment sector of the organization. They were in charge of the brothels, clubs, and bars under Bonten’s domain. Thanks to their years of experience, their sector was Bonten’s most successful, and with that came the confidence of their leader–or a semblance of it being it was Mikey they were dealing with.

Confidence that had only increased thanks to Sanzu’s mistake in the woman’s room. Two weeks had passed since then and Sanzu was still away in Osaka on “business”. A gift from the gods themselves Ran had declared to his brother during one of their audits on their most successful brothel. It operated under the guise of an upscale club/bar where only the upper-echelons of society gained entry. There, in one of the VIP lounges that oversaw the dance floor below, they stood with a drink in hand, hawk-like eyes scanning their establishment.

Ran took a sip of his drink. “Numbers are looking good. Not that I expected otherwise.”

Rindou didn’t spare a nod to his brother, eyes fixed on the crowd of dancing bodies below. The lounge was surrounded by sound-proof glass, so Ran knew Rindou had heard him despite his lack of a response, verbal or physical.

Amused by his younger brother’s unusual indifference, particularly when it came to business, Ran followed his gaze to find a woman at the receiving end of it. She stood at the sidelines in a tight skimpy number that left little to the imagination. From the color of her outfit, she was one of their girls but that was beside the point.

Ran quickly realized it was her resemblance to Kisaki’s sister that had caught his little brother’s attention. A resemblance that was by no means uncanny but was enough to get the wheels turning in Ran’s head.

“I have an idea regarding your little crush on the Boss’ sister,” Ran offered, swirling the last swig of spirit in his glass. This time, Rindou not only spared him a glance but even responded, his interest piqued.

“What do you have in mind?”

His brother might have been a cocky bastard, but Rindou couldn’t deny that he had the freakish ability to manipulate people into doing whatever he wanted. People that apparently included their boss, Mikey.

Somehow Ran had managed to convince Mikey to ditch Takeomi and Mochi and join them on an impromptu visit to the brothel, and once there, his most intricate plan unfolded that led the unsuspecting leader of Bonten to a private room where Rindou was ball’s deep in the lookalike’s ass.

If it hadn’t been for the whore’s tight asshole clamping down on his cock and pushing him to his release, Rindou’s desire would have shriveled under the obscure intensity of Mikey’s gaze. The same gaze that had preceded the death of countless others.

Luckily for him, Ran knew exactly was he was doing and offered their boss a seat that he wordlessly accepted, pitch-black eyes shifting to the woman and widening fractionally.

That was how the Haitani brothers found themselves invited to Y/N’s room the following night, escorted by Mikey himself, whose lips twitched the moment he spotted his fake sister.

She was sitting on the armchair next to the bookshelf Mikey had built for her to store her plethora of cookbooks. She held a large hardcover over her lap that she immediately shut and set on the coffee table adjacent to her before rising to her feet and rushing toward Mikey.

It was only then that the brothers were able to take in her clothing—or lack of. She wore a white strappy open cup bra that revealed more than it covered. Hugging her waist was a matching white garter belt attached to white mesh stockings. The most tantalizing part of her get-up, however, had to be her lack of panties that exposed her cunt to the three men in the room.

Blood rushed to Rindou’s cock as he watched the object of his desires embrace her “brother” while Ran watched with a smirk pulling at his mouth.

“Mikey!” she squealed in delight, lacing her arms around his neck. “I missed you so much.”

A glimmer of glee shined in Mikey’s eyes; a reaction only the sister of his most hated enemy could draw out.

It was then that she realized they weren’t alone and a look of unease flashed across her pretty face. Her eyes darted between both brothers as her arms slipped off Mikey and she stiffened. If Mikey noticed her change in demeanor, he ignored it and wrapped his lanky arms around her waist, holding her possessively.

“Ah Mikey, I–”

“Did you do what I asked you?” He released her and looked her over while she shrank under the ferocity of his gaze.

She swallowed audibly and flushed, lowering her gaze demurely. “I-I… yes, I did.”

The Haitani’s curiosity over what exactly their leader had asked her to do didn’t last long. A wicked grin graced Mikey’s delicate features.

“Show us.”

Without any real resistance, Kisaki’s sister stepped to the side and slowly turned around, her ass on full display. Trembling hands traveled to her backside and spread her ass cheeks apart, revealing a glass buttplug in the shape of a heart.

Rindou’s cock strained painfully against his slacks and it took all of his willpower to stop him from bending her over and fucking her stretched-out hole. Ran faired better than his brother, but even he wasn’t immune to the effects of a bejeweled hole on full display, and his cock twitched to life.

“Good girl,” Mikey cooed. “Now, why don’t you take it out and show the Haitani brothers your pretty little asshole.”

“Mikey, please.” She turned to face her brother, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “D-do I have to?”

Mikey quirked his head to the side, strands of white partially covering the confused look that graced his delicate features. “I think you know the answer to that, sweetheart.”

Tears trailed down her face, but she kept her gaze fixed on her brother as wavering fingers gripped the gem and pulled it out tantalizingly slow. Rindou bit back a moan from seeing the bulbous plug stretching her tight muscle. It was a sizeable thing that left her lubed hole clenching around nothing; something Rindou would remedy as soon as Mikey gave his consent.

“Such a pretty obedient girl, isn’t she Rindou?” Mikey strolled to the armchair his sister had previously sat on. “Why don’t you reward her for prepping so thoroughly?”

His boss didn’t need to ask twice. In a manner of seconds, she was guided to the bed by Rindou and positioned on her hands and knees with her ass up. He could feel the mess of precum inside his clothes but decided to savor the moment and her first.

Kneeled on the bed with his fingers digging into the supple flesh of her ass cheeks, Rindou licked his lips and lowered his mouth to her hole that was pretty indeed.

“Ahhhh~”

The object of his desires moaned and wriggled under Rindou’s hold as his tongue licked around her tight muscle before pushing inside. He was relentless in his devotion, kissing and licking until she keened into her bedsheets. It wasn’t until he could smell her arousal leaking out of her trembling form that he decided to give in to his fantasies.

Never before had Rindou released his aching cock faster than in that moment, his length erect and already covered in tacky precum, and the condom he’d brought was put on in record time as well. He settled behind her and rubbed his shaft along her dripping slit, lathering it up with slick to ease his passage. With each thrust between her legs, he could feel her clenching cunt but fought off the urge to fuck it.

‘Another hole for another time,’ he thought, taking hold of his cock and pressing it against her prepped hole.

It took all of Rindou’s willpower and experience to stop himself from peaking just from pushing into her tight ass that clenched and unclenched with each inch of his throbbing cock. Her initial cries of pain lasted until he was fully sheathed inside her before they turned into whines as her entire body shuddered. Arching her back, she peered back at him, her teary face flushed and lips parted.

“Please… wanna feel good.” She wiggled her hips and her tight walls clenched down, drawing out a strained hiss from Rindou. Spurred on by her encouragement, his hands gripped her garter belt and began pumping into her.

Fucking Kisaki–no, Mikey’s–sister was unlike anything Rindou had ever experienced. She was tighter than any hole his dick had sunken into, male or female, and he could practically feel his control slipping away from him with each drag against her walls.

“Fuck” he cursed, teetering at the brink of a premature orgasm. “C’mere, pretty girl.”

He sat back on his knees and pulled her back flush against him with his cock still buried inside. The change of position allowed him to stave off his peak and help Mikey’s sister with hers. Rindou’s hand traveled between her slickened folds until his fingers found her clit, protruding and just begging to be touched. She mewled at the attention he gave that bundle of nerves and rewarded him by clamping down on his cock.

“Please,” she whined and turned her head toward her brother instead of the man balls deep in her ass. “W-want more… want my pussy full too.”

Rindou’s hips stuttered at her plea. He was at a loss over her ability to address another man, let alone the one she believed was her own flesh and blood, amnesic or not. She had never acted like this with Kisaki, her real brother, and Rindou wondered what twisted ideas Mikey planted in her impressionable and broken mind.

“Ran,” Mikey snapped, breaking the elder Haitani brother out of his gaze. “You heard her. Put on a condom and give her what she wants.”

Ran swallowed. “Yes, Mikey.” He threw an apologetic glance at his baffled younger brother before following his Boss’ command. Giving his already erect cock a couple of pumps, he joined the couple on the bed and tried to ignore the look of betrayal on his brother’s face.

While Ran Haitani didn’t share the same ardent attraction to Kisaki’s sister his little brother felt, he couldn’t deny that he’d wanted her the moment she showed off her pretty gaping hole. Besides, Ran wasn’t going to say no to Mikey of all people, especially when it came to his “sister” who was proving to be more dangerous than he’d ever imagined.

After adjusting their position to accommodate him, Ran peered at the woman that was practically begging for him to fuck her. Tears dotted her lust-filled eyes, a deep flush spread across her face, and her parted mouth let out the sweetest noises with each snap of his brother’s hips.

Still trying to convince himself he was merely following Mikey’s orders, Ran dragged his length against her slit to lubricate his shaft. She whined cutely and even moved her hips against Ran’s cock, eliciting hisses from both Haitani brothers. Throwing caution to the wind, Ran’s hands replaced Rindou’s around her hips and he buried himself to the hilt all at once.

“Shiiiiit!” Rindou moaned when he felt his brother’s cock through the thin barrier of skin that separated them. “S’fucking tight.”

The woman between the Haitani brothers screamed as both men mercilessly fucked both of her holes. While at first, they settled into a rhythm that alternated which brother thrust into her, they became sloppier the closer they were to their respective orgasms and sometimes impaled the woman simultaneously.

“Play with her tits.”

The grunted command captured the attention of the three and they looked at the orchestrator of everything with varying reactions. Mikey sat on his armchair with a single hand pumping his erect cock, brow furrowed and eyes burning with lust as he watched the debauchery taking place.

Rindou was disgusted and immediately looked away, burying his head in the crook of Y/N’s neck but rolling one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Ran was shocked and tried searching for his stone-cold leader only to find a depraved man jerking off to the adopted sister he was whoring out to his men. Nevertheless, Ran put aside his apprehension and lowered his mouth over the woman’s neglected breast, working her erect nipple with his lips, mouth, and teeth.

The extra stimulation pushed Mikey’s sister to her peak. She violently tensed up and screamed out in pleasure, her walls fluttering around the two cocks drilling into her. As her orgasm pulsed through her, the Haitani brother’s reached theirs, spilling into the rubber barrier.

For a moment, the three of them sat on the bed and relaxed into each other. Rindou rested his forehead against Y/N’s shoulder and breathed in her scent. Ran let the amnesiac woman rest her head against his chest as he steadied his breathing.

The Haitani brothers had never been one’s for aftercare, but for the woman between them, they thought they could make an exception until one name from said woman’s lips put an end to that notion.

“Mikey,” she mumbled and raised a hand toward him

The brothers found him busy wiping away the cum on his hands and clothing before discarding the handkerchief and rising to his feet. His features were smoothed over to a semblance of what they had once been, but Ran and Rindou could see the possessiveness lingering beneath the surface. A possessiveness for the woman reaching out for him.

Just like that, the moment was over and they were unceremoniously ushered out of the woman’s room, leaving her at Mikey’s mercy.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ran peered at his brother, trying to gauge his reaction beneath his shaggy bangs. Rindou felt the weight of his brother’s heavy gaze and let out an exasperated sigh.

“I’m not stupid enough to get in-between… whatever fucked up thing they have.” He turned to his older brother and shot him a wry grin. “Besides, I already got what I wanted.”

Ran released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. While he would have rallied behind his brother if Rindou had asked, he was relieved to discover that Rindou wasn’t as infatuated with the woman as he’d initially thought. Slinging an arm over the younger man, Ran dragged him away, promising to find him a pretty whore with a tight ass and grinning over the fact that he’d get to stuff a couple more rolls of bills in the safe.

You woke up sometime at night to warm pants against the shell of your ear and shallow thrusts against your rear that caused your entire body to go rigid in distress. Blinking away your sleep, you desperately took in your surroundings illuminated by the city lights streaming in from the windows across from where you lay.

The tall windows that made up an entire wall were the same ones you often gazed out of to watch the cloud formations pass by in the sky. A wave of relief washed over and you relaxed when you recognized your surroundings as your bedroom–at least until the hand draped over your waist pulled up your nightgown and something hot and pulsating pushed between your legs.

“Did I wake you?” Mikey’s husky voice whispered into your ear. “Sorry, sweetheart. I couldn’t stop thinking about how good you were today. How happy you made me and them.”

The contradicting emotions whenever Mikey became overly affectionate with you rose to the surface when he buried his face in the crook of your neck and his cock rubbed against your clothed slit. Your skin eventually erupted in goosebumps and desire pooled between your legs. They were the tell-tale signs that your body wanted him to breach the barrier of familial relations and take you the way you knew he wanted.

Yet, your knee-jerk reaction to all of his inappropriate attention was fear and repulsion. Your body never failed to stiffen and tremble until he dispelled those negative emotions during your time with him, locked in your room and away from the other’s prying eyes. Your brother’s words, which could cut you down and lift you up all in a single breath, assured you of the normalcy of your intimate relationship with him. Your brother’s touches, that struck and soothed in the same spots, coaxed from your body the reactions he wanted–no, your true reactions as he’d reminded you time and time again.

And those true reactions were what had you moving your hips in tune with his. Those reassurances that your relationship was the same as it had always been had you declaring your love for him over and over again.

Because besides your first name, the only thing you could recall amidst the thick fog that permeated your brain was the compulsory need to make your brother happy.

✰ hypnotic dreams

the devils month - day one

featuring: nagi seishiro x f!reader

summary: you planned a night out to the casino with nagi and reo. but of course, your boyfriend has other plans...

tags: smut, p in v, thigh fucking, manhandling, petname (angel)

wc: 1.3k

nagi lays in bed, his body half-draped in blankets, watching you lazily move around the room as you get yourself all dressed up for tonight. it's been days since reo told you about the casino night he booked for the three of you, and you haven't shut up about it since. you wanted tonight to be perfect, going as far as to plan your outfit down to the last detail. but nagi? he barely stirs. he’s still half asleep, sprawled out, barely interested in anything other than the glow of his phone screen.

you’ve got one leg in your dress when you glance over and catch his sleepy gaze fixed on you, one brow slightly raised as if he’s amused by your efforts. “you’re not even going to get up?” you ask, teasingly annoyed. "reo’s picking us up in like two hours.”

nagi lets out a low groan, stretching his long limbs out. “mm... do we have to?” his voice is lazy, trailing off like he’s already forgotten what the night’s even about. he’s watching you, though, that slight gleam in his eyes telling you he’s up to something.

you laugh softly, shaking your head. "reo will kill us if we bail."

but before you can turn back to the mirror to finish dressing, nagi shifts suddenly, faster than you expected. his hand wraps around your wrist as he's tugging you closer to the bed. “c’mere.”

“nagi, what—” you let out an attempt at a protest, but it’s useless. his grip is firm and controlling, as he pulls you down onto the mattress beside him with little effort. you barely have time to react before he’s rolling over, pressing his larger body down on you against the bed as his lips find yours in a lazy, heated kiss. it’s not rushed, not urgent, but slow and deliberate—like he has all the time in the world.

his hand drifts down, fingers sliding over the soft fabric of your half-done dress. you let out a surprised gasp when he hooks his arm around your waist, flipping you over onto your back with ease. his strength catching you off guard, especially when he’s so gentle about it. the next moment, his weight is pressing you down into the mattress, his knee nudging your thighs apart as he grinds lazily against your leg.

“nagi…” you whisper, breathless against his lips. “we… we really need to get ready.”

“mm,” he hums against your mouth, barely paying attention, his large hands gripping your hips tighter, pulling you closer beneath him. “i'll be quick.”

he’s not asking permission anymore. nagi’s always been a bit possessive, especially when he’s in one of these moods. you can feel the subtle shift in him—his usual laziness replaced by a heated desire. he shifts his hips, his hard cock rubbing against your inner thigh, and you shiver at the sensation, biting your lip.

without another word, he moves, adjusting you like it’s nothing. his hand slithers under your thigh, lifting it with ease to rest against his waist. you’re completely at his mercy, the weight of him pinning you down as he rocks his hips, letting his cock glide along the inside of your thigh. the friction is intoxicating, sending jolts of pleasure through your body with each lazy thrust.

“always in such a rush…” nagi mutters against your skin, lips brushing your neck. his hands tighten on your hips as he holds you in place, controlling every movement, every subtle shift of your body. he thrusts again, harder this time, the slick of your arousal making the slide of his cock all the more delicious. “slow down, angel.”

his hand trails down your thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh, squeezing you possessively as he grinds harder against you. you arch your back, pressing closer to him, your breath coming in ragged gasps. he’s toying with you, teasing you with each slow, deliberate movement, dragging out the anticipation until your body is trembling beneath him.

“nagi,” you moan softly, your hands gripping the sheets, trying to ground yourself. but he’s relentless, his grip tightening on your hips as he thrusts again, his cock slipping between your slick folds. the pressure is overwhelming, each slow thrust sending waves of pleasure through you.

“feel so good like this,” nagi murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he leans down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “so soft... you're so perfect f’me, letting me do whatever i want…”

you feel a shiver travel down your spine at his words, and you whimper, your body arching towards him, needy for more. but nagi pace is slow, torturously slow, his movements lazy yet full of purpose, trying to savour every second.

“gonna make you late,” he mutters with a smirk playing on his lips as he presses you harder into the soft mattress. he grips your hips tightly as he rocks against you. “but that’s okay, right?”

you try to respond, but to no avail—your voice catches in your throat, your body trembling beneath him as the pleasure builds. you’re so close, so desperate, it's obvious to him. he’s pushing you to your limits as his fingers dig into your skin while he grinds against you, his cock slick with your arousal as he thrusts harder.

he’s slow as he deliberately slides his cock between your thighs with force that makes you whimper. his hips shift in a slow, lazy rhythm, dragging himself along your slick folds. the friction, especially as his cock brushes past your clit, sends jolts of pleasure up your spine. he seems to enjoy the way your body responds to the sensation—the subtle jerk of your hips, the way you bite your lip—needy for more. each time the head of his cock grazes your swollen clit, you can’t help the soft gasp that escapes you. it’s torturous, the way he presses his length against you without fully giving in, teasing you as his cock slips between your thighs again and again, building the heat inside you to a fever pitch.

suddenly, he thrusts harder between your legs, the slick sound of his cock sliding between your thighs louder now, more desperate. he grinds against you in a rhythm that makes you ache for him to enter you. you arch your back, feeling his thick length press against your clit in just the right way, sending you closer to the edge with each maddening thrust.

and then, without warning, he stops.

“n-nagi,” you gasp, your body aching for him. “please…”

he chuckles softly, his breath is warm against your neck as he leans down, his lips brushing your skin. “s’needy,” he teases, his voice low as he pushes his hips against yours, his tip nudging itself between your thighs. he lets it slip against your slick entrance, just enough to tease you, but not going further. his hand trails towards your ass before kneading the soft flesh. “so pretty when you beg f’me.”

you’re trembling beneath him, desperate for release, but he waits. his cock presses against you again, prodding lightly, but still, he does nothing. his fingers trail lazily over your skin, not giving you what you crave until you whimper, your voice barely a whisper, “please, nagi… i need you… need you so bad…”

the moment he hears those words, he finally thrusts inside you, filling you completely in one slow, painful stroke. the sensation is overwhelming, making your body arch against him in pure bliss, earning a loud moan from your throat.

“good girl,” nagi murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction as he begins to move again, slow and steady, his hands gripping your hips as he sets a pace that leaves you breathless. “just relax… gonna take care of you.”

taglist: @ryescapades @iamjellyfish @143-ilyuu @maruflix

©lumis kinktober 24' ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

my heart burns for you

I wish to see you again

just to kiss you

just to hug you

just to feel you

you’re the reason I feel.

all I want is you.

I want you so bad.

would you be scared if i told you how much i love you? i don't want to scare you away. you're everything to me. i want to be yours forever.

reblog if you:

are nonbinary

have dyed/cut your own hair over quarantine

love netflix cartoons

support nonbinary people