Mahito X Reader - Tumblr Posts

☆ — HOW THEY KISS ! • jjk edition

⋆ ࣪. ft. gojo, geto, nanami & mahito

★ — contents ! gn!reader, kissing (duh), fluff, pre-established relationships

⋆ ࣪. ☆ GOJO SATORU

passionate, electric, leaves you breathless.

“where d’ya think you’re going?”

he calls after you having dared to depart from him without a goodbye kiss. gojo pulls you back in by the wrist before strong hands settle onto the back of your neck to bring you into a kiss. his lips are soft, gliding over your own just as smooth as silk. he takes your startled gasp as an opportunity to slip his tongue through your parted lips, massaging the wet muscle against yours and pulling a soft moan from your throat. the kiss is absolutely electric, all consuming, sending sparks all over your body and kindling a fire in your loins. it’s when your eyes finally flutter closed and your hands clutch at white strands of hair that he pulls away with a smug grin, leaving a bridge of saliva connecting your swollen lips. he leaves you breathless, flustered, and desperate to the point that you had forgotten you were in public. a chuckle erupts from his chest as he brings his thumb to your lips to wipe them clean.

“you forgot this.”

⋆ ࣪. ☆ GETO SUGURU

soft, sexy, and a little romantic.

“you’re so pretty”

you compliment, staring up at him with shimmering eyes, admiring his perfect face. you absentmindedly raised your hands to trace the outlines of his sharp features, but before you can make contact with his skin, he takes your hand in his, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. the gesture is soft, but his eyes are low and gleam with lust. geto tilts your chin up to with his index finger and glides his thumb against your bottom lip, tugging it slightly. your breathing begins to quicken in anticipation and your eyes dart between his eyes and his lips. noticing his darling practically begging for a kiss, geto slowly leans in with a small smirk and presses his lips against yours. the kiss is soft and sweet as he moves his lips against your own, exchanging shaky breaths with each pass of your lips, drawing your souls closer together. when he pulls back, he does so gently caressing the side of your head as he gazes back at you.

“thank you, my dear”

⋆ ࣪. ☆ NANAMI KENTO

reserved, tender, and sensual.

“okay, have a great day”

you bid your boyfriend farewell, balancing on your tippy toes to place a kiss on his lips. it’s a kiss that’s only meant to last a moment, but one peck, turns into two, and then two turns into nanami setting down his briefcase in favor of taking your hips into his strong hands and pulling you firmly against him. it begins chaste and sweet, but lust slowly takes over, bringing the spark of a kiss to a low ember. your lips move together in perfect synergy, almost dance like. 1, 2, 3… lips part. 2, 2, 3… lips close as he gently suckles on your bottom lip before giving it a playful tug. he releases it with a gentle hum, placing his forehead against yours to relish in the warmth that lingers for a moment. pressing a final kiss on your forehead, he picks up his briefcase and reaches for the door, the faintest hint of a smile playing at his lips.

“alright, i really must go. you know i hate being late. i’ll see you when i get home. i love you.”

⋆ ࣪. ☆ MAHITO

sloppy, exciting, and youthful.

“come ‘ere, cutie!”

mahito chimes, pulling you in by the face for a sloppy kiss. the young curse has a natural excitement for learning new things. his current favorite is the feeling of your soft lips suckling around his tongue as he pushes it deeper into your mouth to explore your wet heat. he loves the way your moans tickle his tongue, sending tingles all through his body. it makes him feel alive. the kiss is a clash of tongues and teeth as he moves his mouth against yours with the naïveté of two teens in love. your heart thumps against your rib cage at the excitement of it all. you can’t help smiling against his lips as places wet kisses trailing all over your face. by the time you’re done, your face is slick with spit, but you don’t mind at all, having been content with being near him. he pulls away will a bright smile, eyes barely visible through his scrunched cheeks.

“i was a lot better this time, don’t cha think?”

☆ REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED !

#: @gayboys-incorporated

you hide your face

their reaction when you shyly cover your face during sex

my shy ass can relate, I can't even hold the gaze of a stranger in the street so during seggs?? I truly admire confident people

genderneutral!reader

trigger warning : smut

─ yuji itadori

he's SOFT about it

I think it would make him fall for you even more

a sweet smile appears on his face and he peppers your hands with kisses

"You're so cute like that."

he doesn't try to remove your hands, he respects your limits and wouldn't do something that you wouldn't like

he's so sweet that you remove your hands from your own, just to see his angel face

he immediately puts his lips on yours, smiling during the kiss

this precious boy is so soft about seeing your shy side

expect a lot of praises after this

─ megumi fushiguro

like Yuji he's all soft about it

but something is telling me he's a little more freaky

he smiles widely when he hears you say it's too much for you and accelerates the thrust of his hips

"What's the matter love? Does it feels too good?"

he knows damn well that you're already too fucked up to answer, as you try to put your hand on your face to hide your dumb expression

he pushes your hand away, his gentle movement contrasting with the way he's pounding into you

he grabs your chin to kiss you roughly and he keeps being rough with you but the aftercare is- chef kiss

then it's his turn to hide his face when he hears you say that you love him

─ gojo satoru

fucking piece of shit

alright you already know what's coming

it really boosts his ego seeing you hide because the pleasure is too intense

he gets mean, in a teasing and cocky way

he keeps hitting that sweet spot that turns your face all red, a devilish grin appearing on his face when he sees your tongue lolling out of your mouth, even with your hand covering your face

he forces you to look at him by grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head or he grabs your neck and presses your back against his chest to force you remove your hands to keep your balance if he's fucking you from behind

"What's up with the shy face babe? Is it too much for you already?"

he does everything he can to make you even more flustered, like moaning right against your ear or licking your neck and your nipples

be ready for a few more rounds, because your shy side turns him on

I want to punch him in the face so bad goshh but I also want to suck his dick

─ kento nanami

he won't tolerate his darling to avoid his gaze

for him it's all about the ✨eye contact✨

he slows his deep strokes, ignoring your whines of protestation

"I want to see your face darling."

if you're still not removing your hands he just stops his movements, his dick still inside you

his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs to keep you from moving

"What did I just told you?"

you have no choice but to let go of your shyness, removing your hands from your face

his harsh tone instantly disappear, kissing your lips as he starts to move again

like Yuji, expect a lot of praises after that

he will tie your hands if you do it again

─ toge inumaki

sweet boy ;-;

he smiles softly and slow down

he doesn't remove your hands, he hums in a low voice and he kisses you everywhere while gently caressing your skin

like Yuji, you have no choice but to remove your hands from your own because he's too fucking soft

─ mahito

fucking psychopathic laugh

he's genuinely amused by your sudden shyness even though he's fucking you for hours

"Why are you hiding? You were the one begging for my dick earlier."

he removes your hands without any mercy and just keeps slamming his hips against yours, the demonic grin still on his face

he will overstimulate you, just to see you try to hide your face again

─ sukuna

like Kento, he won't tolerate it

and bold of you to assume that your hands aren't already pinned above your head

he laughs at your face, hitting harder your sweet spot

"Look at you, getting all dumb on my dick like the slut you are."

after seeing this he will force you to look at him even more than before by grabbing your chin and resting his big hands on your cheeks

like this he won't hesitate to shove his fingers inside of your mouth btw

─ toji fushiguro

CORRUPTION KINK

he teases you, like really teases you

"Oh you're getting shy... Talk to me sweetheart, how good I'm making you feel?"

let's be honest, your chances to properly answer him are very low and he will probably laugh at your face for that

he doesn't remove your hands, thinking you're cute

and he doesn't have to remove them because he fucks you so roughly that you have to grip your bedsheets or his shoulders

honestly, this shy side of you only makes him hornier, because again, ✨corruption kink✨

─ nobara kugisaki

she finds you so fucking cute hiding like this

but she also teases you forcing you to show your face to kiss you passionately

"Are you okay babe? You look a little red."

she grins wickedly and kisses your face again and again

─ maki zenin

she teases you without any mercy and she keeps doing whatever made you flustered

but she also removes your hands because she loves making eye contact during sex

"Don't hide from me. I want to see your pretty eyes."

get ready for a few more rounds 👀

jujutsu kaisen masterlist

you hide your face part two (geto & choso)

𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒, 𝓇𝑒𝓅𝑒𝓃𝓉 ⎹ 𝓜., 𝓖.𝓢., 𝓒., 𝓗.𝓢.

❝ ғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ⤻ jujutsu kaisen / kinktober 2022 / @dollsanime-library

❝ ғᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇᴅ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀs ⤻ mahito, geto, haruta, choso [ but mostly geto & mahito ] x captive!human!reader ( f! )

❝ ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ ⤻ nsfw! none of my writings are meant for anyone under the age of 18, and any minors interacting will be blocked on site.

❝ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs ⤻ this is a dark fic, please don’t read if any of the warnings are potentially triggering for you! kidnapping, recollections of violence and current violence against reader, noncon, group sex, cum marking, impact kink, free use kink, facefucking, degradation and threats, forced breeding mention, overstimulation, double PinV, all that good stuff.

❝ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⤻ 4.2k / one shot

❝ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴇ ⤻ i do not consent to having my work reposted / translated / stolen in any capacity for any reason. please reblog and leave a comment to support content creators! my work is very rarely proof read so mistakes may be present. all characters / pairings i write for are 18+ with no exceptions.

you’d severely underestimated Mahito’s cruelty.

no, you knew just how wicked he was. but you’d thought that you were special. he could never hurt you, that’s what you told yourself every time you would lay awake in his arms after you’d been an audience to his cruelty. you were his little plaything, he’d said so himself. that meant he considered you fun enough to keep around and play with, which — at first— was enough for you.

until you realized just how deep you were, and suddenly you were drowning in his wickedness, sucked to the bottom of a dark, cold abyss. all you wanted was to be able to breathe, to find the surface again, so you sought out the only ones you thought were capable of protecting you.

those Jujutsu Sorcerers he and Geto talked about; they almost seemed wary of them. especially one. Gojo Satoru. you’d managed to run away, and track him down, beg for protection, which he and another, Nanami if you remembered correctly, had promised you.

but you were so stupid to ever believe that there would be a place in this dimension or any other that Mahito couldn’t find you, and once he’d dragged you back to these stinking sewers, kicking and screaming by your hair, he’d told you so.

now, his words echoed in your otherwise blank mind, bouncing off each corner. it was easier to focus on remembering his voice, than to listen to the sound of your body being violated over and over, relentlessly, by those recruited by the curse. your sex squelching as you’re forced to take Choso’s size, again. you knew it was him, because he liked to grip your hips and dig his thumbs into your lower belly until you feel like they’re going to push right through you. pressing you inward so he can feel himself bulging against you on the other side. you could feel just how snug the fit was, you can only imagine the view— the shape of his cock poking out from your belly; you were thankful for the cum and tear soaked blindfold that kept you from being forced to watch the sordid display. and Choso liked to rut deep, battering your cervix until you were crying. this time, however, you could only gurgle and whimper, mouth full of cock, too. Haruta’s, to be exact.

it wasn’t just his breathless moaning that gave it away, whining like he’s never been touched in his life, but also the way he would pull his length free, allow you a moment to breathe and drizzle more cum and spit on to your cheeks, and slap them and your lips with his member, giggling when you purse your lips and try to turn your head. but your head was hanging over the edge of the concrete, so there was nowhere for you to escape to, especially when Haruta was planted in the water that you could hear running just below your dangling head. “Wanna see the shape of my cock imprinted on your messy, pretty face.” Haruta croons, grasping a handful of your damp hair at the root and holding you tight in place. “I’ll leave bruises of it if I want to.” he says, and you could practically hear the grin he must’ve worn. “I can do whatever I want to you, you know? Carve you up, break your bones, leave my name in burn marks over your skin. And there’s nothing you can do to stop it. You’re completely helpless, aren’t you?” he punctuates the question with a harsh slap to your face, this time with his palm. “Go on, say it!” he urges with boyish delight, “Tell me that you’re a helpless, dirty whore and I can rape you how I want.”

you didn’t want to— the very words threatening to elicit a gag, but you knew he’d hurt you again if you didn’t. “I—I’m a helpless,” you choked on the words, broken each time Choso bottoms out inside you, “helpless dirty whore… and y—you can rape me however y—you want to—“ whilst you struggle to form the words, Haruta places his length over your lips and rubs it between them, slurring the words, and he moans again.

“Mm… Nowhere to run to… no one to help you… you just have to lay here and take whatever we want to give. Fuck, it gets me even harder knowing you hate this.” maybe he could see you clenching your teeth, or the way your brows were knit together, “I want to hurt you even more now!”

but Choso was deep in your guts, squeezing your belly, and grunting under his breath. the stretch was unbelievable the first couple of times he took you, but now your body yields to his size, back arching, and arms and legs trying to flail. if only they weren’t both bound with thick, tight bandage. calves to thighs, and forearms to biceps, leaving your hands and feet helplessly exposed to twitch.

“Not— not inside again—“ you croak, clenching the throbbing tool nestled in your body. he was close, but you were already so full of cum that when he pulled out there was sure to be plenty to ooze on to the concrete under you. you didn’t know if you could handle another load. “P—please—“

Haruta laughs again, pulling your hair to angle your head up towards the man fucking you, though you were thankful you couldn’t see him. your mouth was slack, sore, and hopeless moans slipped from it each time he pounded himself home. “Aw, Choso, she doesn’t want you to cum inside her again! Poor little whore must be so full! Let’s see!” his free hand rubs your lower belly, pushing down until you’re squirming— the remnants of your past assaults gushing from between your thighs and soaking Choso’s groin. your face is on fire with humiliation. “Why don’t you beg him real cute-like, and maybe he’ll be nice enough to paint your tits, instead?”

you knew Haruta was going to get off on your begging, but you clench your fists, and bite your lip in hopes to stifle your humiliating sounds. “P—please, Choso! Please c—cum on my tits, instead! I don’t… I don’t think I can take anym—“

but one hand abandons the grip on your hip to clamp over your mouth, his voice more akin to an animal’s snarl. “Stop talking.” he’s grinding his teeth, you can hear it in his voice, and Haruta has settled for sliding his cock, still slippery with your spit, into your fist. muffled, you try again to beg, but he’s already burying himself as deep as he can go. “Do you think I’ll show you mercy? That all you need is a couple of pretty words and I won’t take you how I want?” you shake your head, eyelids fluttering behind the sticky blindfold. you groan in defeat when you feel him release inside, the warmth spreading. and he leans closer, until his breath is against your cheek. you flinch, but can go nowhere while Haruta grips your roots. “I’ll breed you over and over, however many times I please. And if you ever,” the word is punctuated by a deep pump, coaxing a squeak of submission into his palm, “speak out of turn again, I will make sure that Mahito stands aside and watches you birth a litter of my curses.” weakened, you nod submissively, and after a moment he withdraws his hand. when he pulls his manhood from your tremor-wracked body, you suck in a breath through your teeth; you can hear the cum that won’t physically fit inside you anymore splatter on the ground underneath you.

“He’s wicked, isn’t he?” Haruta hums, fucking your clenched fist at a fervent pace, “but don’t you worry— I’m not. You asked for cum on your tits, didn’t you?” you want to protest, but you don’t have the strength left to, and when Haruta releases your hair, your head hangs over the edge again, your body limp and shaking. his hand glides down to grasp a handful of your breast, squeezing tight, “I’m gonna paint them so pretty for you.” his thumb and forefinger pinch and pull your nipple until you’re crying out, back forced off the ground, pain bringing tears to your eyes, and he moans, finding more pleasure in seeing you distressed than from your hand. “Come on, cry some more,” he coaxes, alternating between tugging and slapping, leaving your skin stinging, “I’m almost there…”

twin footprints approach, and you recognize Mahito’s voice. “How’s my brave girl doing?”

you whine, trying to reach for the sound, temporarily and willingly forgetting that he’s the one that put you in this position in the first place— convinced that he would stop the torture now that you’d learned your lesson. “Mahito!” your free hand clenches and unclenches desperately, “H—help!”

“Help?” he asks, mocking sympathy as his footsteps echo around you, coming closer, before he squats down beside you, and you feel the gentle dance of his lithe fingertips over your thigh. he grips one in his massive fist and drags you closer, grinding your back into the stone floor and elevating your head on to it again. at least there was that— you wouldn’t be lightheaded from being upside down anymore. “Oh, you precious little thing. Why would I put a stop to this when it’s so much fun to watch?” he coos at your puzzled whimper, running the digit pad over droplets of sweat, smearing them into the grime of the ground that clung to your skin. you were sore everywhere, plenty of swollen bruises and cuts donning your flesh, and he didn’t even try to avoid them. “Didn’t I ever tell you? I hate traitors.” he sighs, allowing you to squirm. he doesn’t even seem to mind Haruta’s high pitched whimpering as he smears the tip of his cock over your abused breasts, glazing them with his release. “But, of course, I didn’t want to kill you for betraying me; I’m much too fond of you for that. I want to believe that you will see the error of your selfish ways through just a little bit of punishment—“

“Please!” you break in, crying for him, “I—I am so sorry, Mahito! I won’t do it again— I swear I’ll be good— I’ll never try to run away again!” you were writhing, trying to push yourself off the ground towards him, “No more, please… I can’t… no more…”

Mahito giggles, his hand careening between your legs and you yelp, frantically shaking your head and babbling the same, protesting pleas. your whole lower half was sore and throbbing, used to your limit and then some, but his large, svelte fingers trace the shape of your swollen clit, “Look at this poor, little cunt, Geto.” he purrs, trailing downward, teasing your folds. the entrance pulsates in opposition of yet another entry. “She’s so sensitive, look at her shake, I’ve hardly even touched her.”

Geto whistles in admiration, and even though you’re blindfolded, you imagine him standing over you, head tilted and sharp eyes focused between your legs. waves of heated humiliation wash over you relentlessly. “She’s had to take so much cock since she came back to us,” Geto murmurs, and you can tell by the way his voice traveled closer that he was squatting down, too. “I wonder if she even knows the difference anymore? Or if she’s been fucked so braindead that she no longer cares who it is, as long as someone’s plugging her up.” a palm, Geto’s you assume, pets your head, pushing your damp hair back, only to curl into a tight fist and lock the tendrils in a harsh vice.

“Is that true?” Mahito taunts, pushing his fingers inside you. the sensation is electric, and your head rolls against the concrete, whining. your thighs twitch, desperate to close and and push him out, but they can’t and he’s already knuckle deep with two fingers spreading you open. “Would you even remember what my cock feels like? Or did we let the others fuck the sense out of that pretty head of yours?”

“M—Mahito, please…” you mewl, lower lip quivering. the feeling was already overwhelming, and you were going to cry again. but he didn’t care, his digits probe deep, a third joining the first two to force your stretch even further, “Please… I see… the error of my ways…! Please, please, please… stop… it’s too much… I’m so—sorry—“

Geto hums, thoughtful, his fingers gripping the blindfold to snatch it from your face. “You don’t yet. But you will.” you squint, even in the dimness of the sewer, it was unbearably bright and blinding, and it takes you several seconds to blink the dizziness away, before you see Geto leaning over you, staring down at your writhing form. he’s smirking, but it’s partially a grimace, as if he’s disgusted and aroused at the same time. feeling unworthy to meet his eyes, you avert your own, to catch a glimpse of Choso and Haruta in the corner. both are stroking themselves. Choso strokes slow, eyeing your every move with a furrowed brow and a tight-lipped frown, but Haruta is pumping himself quick, moaning again, licking his lips. they were forcing themselves hard again. to fuck you again. your stomach turns. you suddenly wish he’d let you keep the blindfold on.

your eyelids flutter, looking down your torso to Mahito, who was thrusting those fingers into you at an inhuman pace, and you couldn’t help but squeal his name, mouth hanging open. he catches your eyes and grins, wickedly, yanking his fingers free and smearing the cocktail of essences left there over your belly. “I wonder how much more it would take to open you up.” he croons, mostly to himself, and you shake your head, but he’s not paying attention, discarding his own clothes while you quiver on the floor, splayed and vulnerable.

“N—no more…”

Mahito grins, wrapping a fist around himself. he was already solid, so you knew he’d been watching for a while, possibly even stroking his cock to the sound of your begging for mercy, and the thought made you want to throw up. had this always been in the back of his mind? ever since that first night he took you in, had Mahito thought about forcing you to take him and all of his comrades? and had your betrayal simply given him a reason to do so? “No more? You sure?” Mahito asks, and you nod, desperate for a break, before he cocks his head to one side, and in one, smooth motion, he rips your arms free from the bandaging. you hadn’t noticed his fingertip was blade shaped until you feel it nick the flesh of your bicep, and a trickle of blood races towards your armpit. he does the same with your legs, and you slump, free but too weak to move, on the gritty concrete. “You’d better try to get away, then.”

what?

you wince, peering up at him perplexed, but he’s wearing that damned, wicked smile. “Go on.” you bite down on your lower lip, heart racing. you didn’t know whether or not to do what he says, so you decide you’re better off trying. forcing your body to flounder, you manage to roll on to your stomach, and take a moment to try and plant your palms on the floor, pushing yourself up on to all fours. “Go on!” he repeats, too joyful for your liking, and uses the sole of his bare foot with a forceful kick to your bum to push you forward. with a pathetic yip, your arms give out, and your chin hits the concrete hard when you fall forward. the muscles in your arms refuse to cooperate. “Scream for your Jujutsu Sorcerers to come and save you! Come on!” another kick, and you whine, using your forearms braced against the ground instead to try and pull yourself away, towards what you knew to be the way out. it was a slow crawl, one that had him and Geto and Haruta all laughing at, but you were trying.

“H… Help…” you mumble, inching closer.

“If we can’t hear you, I promise you they can’t, either.” Geto said, now standing a few feet in front of you. “Scream.”

“Help!” you croak, pulling yourself closer. your legs weren’t even bending at this point, and you could feel the mess leaking out of you as you drag yourself along the floor; you were utterly humiliated and exhausted. “Please! Help me!”

Mahito’s laugh echoes just behind your hopeless plea, and then you felt his hands on you, reaching for you. you careen when he grabs your hair at the scalp to lessen the pain, leaning towards him, and he hauls you to your feet, though your knees are buckling before you’re even partially planted, and you’re collapsing forward into his chest, both your hands trying to grasp at his hair and his arms to keep you up. “They’re not coming for you, are they?” he asks, dual tone eyes heavily shadowed by thick lashes. you shake your head, defeated, and one of his hands slip under your thigh, pulling it up, and then the other, lifting you off your feet and spreading you open to him. “No one is coming to help you, baby. You just don’t matter enough.”

“P— please…” you whine again, but he wasn’t listening. “I’ll be good… I promise I will… just let me rest—“ you cry out when Mahito perches you atop his cock. just the prodding alone is enough to send your overstimulated nerves into a frenzy, but he was none too gentle in pushing you down, impaling you all at once. your walls clench, a feeble attempt to push him out, and then spasm when he stretches them open further.

he tightens his grip on your shaking thighs to keep you from kicking, if you could muster the strength, and releases a breath he must’ve been holding, and it morphs into a moan. “Mm, so this pussy does remember me after all,” he croons, and he’s already bouncing you up and down. your stomach churns, your nails dig into his shoulders, fierce enough to collect crimson under them as you bring blood to the surface, but he doesn’t care. if anything, it adds to the eroticism for him, and his fingers dig into the bruised, supple flesh of your sticky thighs. the feeling of being full again, his rigid girth barreling through you, is all but overwhelming. he doesn’t fuck you like he used to— it’s not fun and exciting, it’s cruel and rough. he’s making a point to hurt you on purpose for betraying him, and using his cock to drive his punishment home into your belly over and over again. he’s deeper than you thought was possible, and his ferocity and speed is inhuman. the head of his cock pokes against your belly from inside, battering those already abused nerves.

you can’t even begin to try and hold your pleas back, babbling for him to just please stop before he kills you.

“Such a dramatic, little cunt you are.” Geto comments, and you can hear the swish of his garments behind you. was he undressing, too? you try to look over your shoulder, but his palm smacks into the back of your head and forces it forward, burying it in Mahito’s heaving chest. “And bold.” you’re smothered against firm, muscle pads, and you pant, open mouthed, and taste Mahito’s sweat on your lips, begging for his forgiveness in a string of breathless apologies. “I never once gave you permission to look at me.”

Mahito snickers, spreading your legs wider, pushing your knees up towards your ribs until they won’t bend further and you mewl— too much more pressure and he’d snap a bone. “The rougher I am, the tighter she gets!” he exclaims, “She’s like a little, fucking vice.”

“That’s no good, then,” Geto hums, and you feel his rippled torso against your back— you hold your breath, expecting him to take your ass. “It sounds like we’ll just have to stretch her out a bit more.” smearing then swollen head of his cock over your ass, he teases the hole for a moment, before careening lower to stuff himself into your core, urging for Mahito to share.

you squeak in protest, both arms flailing behind you to push him back. “That’s— too—!!”

“That’s too what?” Mahito grins, baring his teeth as he plows ahead, “Don’t tell me that’s too much cock for you, baby. You must feel like you’re going to tear in half!” he sounds all too elated at the thought alone.

but he seizes both by your wrists and draws them back, squeezing tight, “These bones of yours are mighty frail,” he hisses in your ear, bucking his hips to nest deep inside, “and if you try to push me out again I’ll crush them.” squeezing his fists, you can feel your wrists yielding, the bones on the edge of fracture. you can't even clench your fists, but instead let your hands go limp, whining in submission. “That’s better.” keeping your arms pulled back, Geto rocks into a rhythm almost as cruel as Mahito. locked between the two, you can do nothing but slump forward against Mahito’s chest and try to take it.

before long, whatever strength you had left was quite literally fucked out, and you were nothing but a rag doll for them to play with.

the sensation of both of them filling you at the same time, fucking at different paces, and their cocks rubbing against each other inside you was too much for your already exhausted psyche to handle, so even when Haruta and Choso blocked in both sides, taking advantage of how low Geto was holding your arms, you couldn’t even look up. your cheek smushed against Mahito’s chest, your eyes glazed over.

“Look at her!” Haruta chimes, wrapping your fingers around his manhood and pumping quick, “She snapped so easily!”

Geto was stifling a moan by grinding his teeth, but you could feel him throbbing against your sensitive walls, each and every vein that ground into them had your head spinning. he liked it.

Choso was fucking your other hand, but his free one grabbed your face and pulled it towards him, and you’re too limp to fight it, eyelids fluttering as he glares down at your dazed countenance. you couldn’t focus on his face, your hazy eyes kept threatening to roll back, and a string of incoherent whimpering falls from your swollen lips. “It didn’t take long to turn this one into a mindless cocksleeve. It’s almost impressive.”

Mahito chortles, though it’s strained as he works his jaw, fucking so recklessly that his own climax must’ve been working him over. “All the potential has been there since, ah, the very beginning.” he boasted, before looking at you, “Little whore was always more than eager to spread her legs when I snapped my fingers. Isn’t that right?” if he expected a response, you couldn’t give him one that wasn’t a helpless moan as you’re juggled between the four, cruel men. “Now, she’ll do the same for all of you, too.”

Geto smirks at this, and releases one of your wrists to wrap his fist around your neck instead, marveling at the way you immediately beg him not to, and leans in close to your ear, “Hear that, rapetoy?” his breath is heavy and hot against the shell of your ear, but you don’t have the strength to shy away from him, nor could you with Choso’s thumb and forefinger hollowing your cheeks. “You’re nothing more than a set of holes for us to fuck when we want. One at a time or all at once, you’re going to do whatever we want you to and you’re going to thank us for the opportunity to serve us, so long as you want to keep breathing.” nuzzling into your hair, he presses a kiss to your lobe that you swore oozed acid, “Let’s see just how long it takes to destroy you completely.”

anyone who simps for Mahito, Sukuna, Orochimaru, Hoshigaki Kisame, Gyutaro, Venom, Predator, Alien, Vampire, Werewolves, Xenomorph and others...

y'all a major monsterfucker (i want a monster with two dicks) <3

i cant stop thinking about that every monsters has a big big Breeding kink cus they got the 'mating season' thing yk 😳😏

To all Mahito haters, I respect your opinion, but I want to show you Mahito with the way that I see him and I love him

Jujutsu Kaisen_Masterlist

Rules and other masterlists

Kento Nanami

romantic

Headcanon: with a sugar baby (gn)

platonic

none

.

Kiyotaka Ijichi

romantic

none

platonic

none

.

Mahito

romantic

none

platonic

"Pretty stranger" (male)

.

Megumi Fushiguro

romantic

none

platonic

none

.

Panda

platonic

none

.

Satoru Gojo

romantic

Headcanon: with a sugar baby (gn)

platonic

“Warming“ (male)

. Suguru Geto

romantic

none

platonic

none

.

Sukuna

romantic

none

platonic

none

. Toge Inumaki

romantic

none

platonic

none

. Yuji Itadori

romantic

none

platonic

none

Mahito and m!child reader- where reader goes up to Mahito and gives them a flower, saying Mahito is pretty?

---

A-d-o-r-a-b-l-e

But this is Mahito, so no 100% fluff

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

I hope this is what you wanted & you enjoy reading!

Mahito x male! reader

Pretty stranger

Crowds were nothing new in the city streets. People rushing by on the way to work, trying to catch the next train, browsing through shops...the list could go on and on and on. But that would become boring, wouldn't it?

A certain curse definitely thought so.

It was always the same routine, and yet he came back in hopes of finding a gem. Someone fun to toy with while experimenting with his powers. Unfortunately, though, he gazed down from the edge of a rooftop he was sitting on, bored out of his mind.

"Man, I should probably change locations...huh?"

As the curse moved to stand up, he caught a glimpse of (Y/EC) eyes, staring right back at him. He paused his movements, taking another few seconds to stare down at the human child. To confirm the boy was indeed looking at him, though it was pretty obvious, Mahito gave him a quick wave and a smile.

To his amusement, the child's eyes widened, quickly raising his little hand to wave back up at the curse, a bright smile of his own on his face. But before Mahito could play this out any further, the child went into the building he was standing infront of. By the sound of it, he was shouting for his father.

Seems like Mahito found an interesting one at last.

"What is it, (Y/N)?", the child's father asked, chuckling, as he finished up another bouquet of roses and put it at its place on display. (Y/N) bobbed up and down on his feet, "There is a pretty person on the roof!", ignoring his father's confused expression, the child grabbed the freshly made bouquet and his father by his apron and tried to tug him along.

"A pretty person on our roof?", (Y/N)'s parent came through the back door, "Papa has work to do, I'll come with you, okay?" The child nodded furiously, "Come, come, come, moddy!" Both ignored the man's complaint about the flower bouquet.

Mahito watched (Y/N) and his parent exit the flower shop, hand in hand, from the alleyway at said shop. Lazily, poking his head out from behind the wall. Mismatched eyes were focused on the human child, seeing how he sulked upon realising Mahito was no longer on the roof.

"I saw someone, I swear!"

"It's okay, darling, but I have to go back inside if there is no one here."

With that (Y/N) stood there alone, still staring up to the roof. All in hopes of seeing that pretty person again.

Mahito quietly chuckled to himself. This certainly never happened before. And he had to say, he was quite enjoying this type of attention for a change. So he decided to bask in it a little more before anything else.

"Hello there, little one!", he greeted the child with a joyful voice. Once seeing the stranger's silver hair in the corner of his eyes, (Y/N) turned his head. His eyes immediately started to sparkle, "Hello!", he giggled happily and waddled towards the curse, completely oblivious to the fact how dangerous he actually was.

He only saw beautiful, long, silver hair, gorgeus mismatched eyes, cool looking marks and equally cool looking clothes. Not a sign of the ruthless murderer he actually was. And he didn't need to know. That would simply ruin the fun.

Mahito crouched down to look (Y/N) in the eyes properly, and fuel his friendly stranger look a bit more, "My, don't you have some pretty flowers there!" (Y/N) nodded and held them out to Mahito, "They're for you! Cause you're really, really pretty!"

This took the curse by surprise, visible by how he froze up for a moment. He took the flower bouquet from the kid with a smile, "Oh, thank youuu, that's so nice of you. No one ever called me pretty before." "Whaaat? Why not? You're like- the most prettiest person I've ever seen! Next to my moddy of course. Don't tell them I said that.", his voice dropped to a cute whisper, adding a little giggle at the end of his sentence.

Mahito smiled, what seemed like, a fond smile, "My lips are sealed.", he patted the boy's head, "But only if you keep one of my secrets too." Seeing the (Y/HC)-haired widen his eyes with a slow nod only fueld the curse's excitement. This time he would play a different game.

"I'm your imaginary friend."

Started writing part two of THIS

Mahito and m!child reader- where reader goes up to Mahito and gives them a flower, saying Mahito is pretty?

---

A-d-o-r-a-b-l-e

But this is Mahito, so no 100% fluff

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

I hope this is what you wanted & you enjoy reading!

Mahito x male! reader

Pretty stranger

Crowds were nothing new in the city streets. People rushing by on the way to work, trying to catch the next train, browsing through shops...the list could go on and on and on. But that would become boring, wouldn't it?

A certain curse definitely thought so.

It was always the same routine, and yet he came back in hopes of finding a gem. Someone fun to toy with while experimenting with his powers. Unfortunately, though, he gazed down from the edge of a rooftop he was sitting on, bored out of his mind.

"Man, I should probably change locations...huh?"

As the curse moved to stand up, he caught a glimpse of (Y/EC) eyes, staring right back at him. He paused his movements, taking another few seconds to stare down at the human child. To confirm the boy was indeed looking at him, though it was pretty obvious, Mahito gave him a quick wave and a smile.

To his amusement, the child's eyes widened, quickly raising his little hand to wave back up at the curse, a bright smile of his own on his face. But before Mahito could play this out any further, the child went into the building he was standing infront of. By the sound of it, he was shouting for his father.

Seems like Mahito found an interesting one at last.

"What is it, (Y/N)?", the child's father asked, chuckling, as he finished up another bouquet of roses and put it at its place on display. (Y/N) bobbed up and down on his feet, "There is a pretty person on the roof!", ignoring his father's confused expression, the child grabbed the freshly made bouquet and his father by his apron and tried to tug him along.

"A pretty person on our roof?", (Y/N)'s parent came through the back door, "Papa has work to do, I'll come with you, okay?" The child nodded furiously, "Come, come, come, moddy!" Both ignored the man's complaint about the flower bouquet.

Mahito watched (Y/N) and his parent exit the flower shop, hand in hand, from the alleyway at said shop. Lazily, poking his head out from behind the wall. Mismatched eyes were focused on the human child, seeing how he sulked upon realising Mahito was no longer on the roof.

"I saw someone, I swear!"

"It's okay, darling, but I have to go back inside if there is no one here."

With that (Y/N) stood there alone, still staring up to the roof. All in hopes of seeing that pretty person again.

Mahito quietly chuckled to himself. This certainly never happened before. And he had to say, he was quite enjoying this type of attention for a change. So he decided to bask in it a little more before anything else.

"Hello there, little one!", he greeted the child with a joyful voice. Once seeing the stranger's silver hair in the corner of his eyes, (Y/N) turned his head. His eyes immediately started to sparkle, "Hello!", he giggled happily and waddled towards the curse, completely oblivious to the fact how dangerous he actually was.

He only saw beautiful, long, silver hair, gorgeus mismatched eyes, cool looking marks and equally cool looking clothes. Not a sign of the ruthless murderer he actually was. And he didn't need to know. That would simply ruin the fun.

Mahito crouched down to look (Y/N) in the eyes properly, and fuel his friendly stranger look a bit more, "My, don't you have some pretty flowers there!" (Y/N) nodded and held them out to Mahito, "They're for you! Cause you're really, really pretty!"

This took the curse by surprise, visible by how he froze up for a moment. He took the flower bouquet from the kid with a smile, "Oh, thank youuu, that's so nice of you. No one ever called me pretty before." "Whaaat? Why not? You're like- the most prettiest person I've ever seen! Next to my moddy of course. Don't tell them I said that.", his voice dropped to a cute whisper, adding a little giggle at the end of his sentence.

Mahito smiled, what seemed like, a fond smile, "My lips are sealed.", he patted the boy's head, "But only if you keep one of my secrets too." Seeing the (Y/HC)-haired widen his eyes with a slow nod only fueld the curse's excitement. This time he would play a different game.

"I'm your imaginary friend."

Mahito x male! reader (platonic)

Continuation of Pretty Stranger

Words:~800

Firsts

Mahito‘s mismatched eyes went from the ugly child drawings on the wall opposite to him to the artist, who just ran into his room and shut the door behind him with yet another giggle. You‘d think that was the only noise he could make by how often he did it. The curse didn‘t mind it though. This was all part of the new experience.

“Papa and Moddy are distracted! They won‘t come to catch us during our secret meeting.“, (Y/N) grinned widely and went to sit next to the curse his imaginary friend. Once again Mahito laughed at how stupid and naive humans were, but Mahito himself had just enough child-like energy inside to play along. Let‘s see where this goes!

A secret meeting with a seven-year old human. Another first.

For a moment, Mahito thought back to the bouquet of roses he had recieved mere hours prior. How the limbs of an unfortunate human came to serve the new purpose of holding the roses on the sewer walls. Forming their soul into vine-like shapes was yet another first, one he greatly enjoyed. This child showed promise, Mahito was sure. The thought of new experiences kept him all smiley and observant.

“So…(Y/N)“, Mahito leaned back, using his hands as support against the galaxy themed sheets, “Have you thought of a name for me?“ That‘s how imaginary friends worked, right? The children come up with a being, deciding on appearance, background, personality,…He wondered if (Y/N) knew about that. He might figure out the truth. But when? How? This is fun.

The child practically leaped onto his bed, landing on his stomach right next to the curse, “Hmmmm…“, he made a show about thinking, forefinger tapping on his chin and everything, while rolling onto his back before sitting up. Almost mockingly, though unintentional.

“I don’t like giving people names. They themselves know what suits them best!”, the child ended up admitting, blushing embarrassed as he looked down to his feet, “And…I don’t want to insult you with names…” His toes curled up and released over and over. What an interesting little quirk. Mahito hummed, “People tend to name things after prominent features. I’m curious to hear what sticks out to you the most.”

Their eyes locked, and the child mistook the twinkle in the other’s eyes as friendliness.

“Well…I like your stitches.”, (Y/N) pulled his legs onto the bed to sit on his knees, “And there is this little alien called Stitch. I love Stitch. He’s really cute, but actually he used to be very very evil and bad. Then he got adopted as a puppy and then he belonged to a family!” Mahito hummed yet again, intruiged, “Stitch, hm?”

Not as embarrassed anymore, the boy nodded with a bright smile, “I always wanted a friend like Stitch!” “Is that so?”

The curse leaned forward to rest his head on his hand, “My name is Stitch then!”, he declared with a smile, making the young boy’s eyes twinkle in excitement. The bed began to shake softly at (Y/N)’s bobbing, “Would you really!?”

“Of course.”, and for the first time ever, he pulled the boy close to him, one hand wrapped around his back, one hand stroking his hair. Immediately, he felt the little arms of the child wrap around him as well, squeezing his torso. It felt warm and nice, like a hot bath. Hot baths were better though. Easier accessable, easier to maintain.

Mahito gazed down at the human in his arms who had his face buried into his chest. This gullibility must be a trait of the younger ones. It was astounishing how readily the child played into his lazily laid out hand. There was no masterplan behind all that, Mahito was winging all of it, deciding the route as he went. At least Junpei was a little wary, he was also older though.

That made Mahito wonder; At what age does this gullibility stop? Can they be taught to stay gullible, or to get out of it immediately?

The curse liked how easy (Y/N) was to play with, but this game was sure to turn boring someday. And what then? He’ll just have to wait and see.

One thing was sure though, he will mold the child the way he wanted. And for the first time, not in the physical sense.

Just realised my mahito fic isn’t coming up in the tags 🙂

— 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐫 ♡

synopsis: oh no! what is a cursed spirit supposed to do when he gains interest in a mortal girl? probably not make sex dolls of her, kidnap her, then fuck her until she breaks. but no one told him that!

𖦹₊┆ mahito x fem! reader

𖦹₊┆ wc: 4.5k

𖦹₊┆ warnings: noncon, dubcon, kidnapping, sex doll, cruel and unusual punishment, mindbreak, fear play, blood, biting, marking, minimal prep, cervix bruising, dehumanization (?), creampie, mahito is gross, referring to the sex doll as if it was a real person

𖦹₊┆ notes: the fic ive been writing on and off for a month… she is my baby… i have birthed her. please please please read the warnings and enjoy <33 kms if this doesn’t show up in tags

18+ → minors / blank blogs dni

Creak.

Footsteps. Footsteps right in front of you. Right in front of your safe haven.

Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please keep walking. Please. If there’s any god out there please make him keep walking.

Bang.

His fist hits the desk right above your head. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Why the fuck did you even hide? It was dumb. So dumb. You can’t get away. Maybe if you ran, kept running forever you could get away. But you can't. Not anymore. It’s too late for any of that.

“There you are, pretty doll.” His sick smile is all you see as he leans down, coming into view. He’s crazy. He’s fucking crazy. You know that. You do.

You knew from the moment he knocked on your door in the middle of the night. Practically buzzing as he rocked on his heels. His speech was slurred, manic. He’s never spoken like that before. So. . . so crazy.

You tried to be polite, you really did. You tried to make small talk, to politely excuse yourself even though your hands were shaking.

You tried to close the door on him but it just wouldn’t shut as he kept rambling. His foot shoved in the way, preventing your escape. His dirty fucking sneakers– god even now you remember them so clearly. You remember so many things you wish you didn’t.

How he fucking smiled when you looked back up at him.

It makes your stomach churn to think about it now.

You remember clearly how he grabbed you. He forced his way inside, slowly backing you against the wall. You remember how he grabbed your wrists, talked about how tiny they were in his hands. Showed you only a moment of warmth before harshly biting into the skin, red rising to the surface, coating his tongue. A sound of pain was retched from your throat, trying to pull away while his grip only got tighter. His hips forced you into the wall, trapping you. Keeping you as prey.

He said you taste delicious.

It fucking echos in your head. Makes you go insane with how it repeats over and over again. Exactly how he said the words. The lilt in his tone, the smile that made him look like he just saw the face of god. How excited he sounded at the first taste of blood.

The way you could tell that he craved more.

Craved everything you had to give.

You didn’t think demons were real before that night. Ghosts, angels– anything that goes bump in the night was just a figment of one's imagination. Maybe hallucinations. But this, this was real. How you wish this was all just some stupid hallucination.

Nothing is paranormal before you face the devil himself.

Nothing is more terrifying than when the devil wants you.

You learned that that night.

He dragged you next door, throwing you to the ground. He looked like a shadow, only a silhouette as he stood in the doorway. The moon casting a glow from behind him. You couldn't see his face, none of it was legible as you scrambled backwards. Trying, trying so desperately to put some space between yourself and the beast.

His shoulders heaved as he panted. Like a fucking monser that just got his kill.

He had.

He closed the doors. Locked them with what felt like a million keys. He started fucking giggling. Giggling like a goddamn lunatic as his demeanor changed completely. He was smiling like an innocent little kid. He was happy. The happiest you had ever seen a person before.

“Ahhh~” He sighed, glee laced in his all too cheery tone. It was like nails on a chalkboard. Speaking, churning in your ears so it's all you can hear. It mocks you. Mocks your very being. Mocks you for trying to live a normal life away from him.

You remember how he clung to you that night as you sobbed. Whining about how you shouldnt be sad, that you were home now. He’d coo, playing with your hair as he tried to ‘soothe’ your trembling body. His arms wrapped around you in a vice. It felt like he was choking the air out of your lungs.

Maybe he was trying, maybe he wanted you dead. You really had no clue. You just wanted to get away– be as far away from him as you could. You’d do anything, you told him as much. Change your name, leave the country. You promised you wouldn’t tell anybody! You would tell him anything if it meant you could leave.

But he kept you in place. Tucked in his arms. His entire body wrapped around yours, keeping you close. Keeping his face nuzzled into your neck. Smelling you. Smelling your fear.

He loves that smell.

If you let him he would breathe it in all the time, treating it as the very thing that keeps him alive. Well, until you die anyway. But he knows that won't be anytime soon! You’re strong. You're tenacious. He knows you are. You’ve dealt with so much in your life, you can deal with him too. He just knows it.

He wonders what all of your other emotions smell like.

Hmm.. What about love? That would be an interesting smell. Maybe it would be sweet like honey? Maybe bitter like chocolate… Humans are so interesting. They're so fun.

You are especially. And he knows you’ll like him too. He’s sure of it as you finally tire yourself out, falling asleep on his beat up mattress. Mmhmm crying for hours must really hurt your soul. Poor thing. He would fix it. Fix you up all nice and pretty. Yeah, he knows just how to. His pretty experiment.

Well, he thinks that’s all you are. A nice human experiment for him to play with. To learn everything about. Learn what makes them tick, what makes them laugh, what makes them cry. Kenjaku told him as much. He could keep a little human as a pet, dispose of them when necessary. But… he doesn’t want to let you go! Just the thought makes him want to cry!

You are already better than he ever imagined!

Bang.

The chair blocking your body is thrown back, assaulting the wall with a deafening crash. Your hands come up, covering your ears. Shit Shit Shit! Fuck, what are you going to do, what are you going to do?! Your body forces itself as far as it can into the corner of the desk. All you can hear, all you can think about is the sound of your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

Why are you so dumb?! You knew you couldn’t win! You never win any of his games!

He squats in front of you, blocking your only means of escape. You hear him, watch him inhale deep before letting out a sick laugh. One that makes you want to cry. One that makes you feel like trying to run– trying to hide is useless. Maybe it is. You don’t see how you could possibly get away.

The pictures covering his walls tell you everything you need to know.

“Found you.” He smiles, crawling towards your body, crawling towards your last bit of safety. He looks like a monster– he is a monster. He can’t be human. He can’t. You refuse to believe it. Your legs kick, they try to get away. They try to be your last line of defense but his face only shows that of an owner looking at a puppy having a fit. He looks so fond of you.

You want to scream.

He grabs your ankle. It hurts. Everything hurts. You should’ve become numb at this point, you wish you had. You feel your body slip out from under the desk, dragged against the hard floor. Pick you up with ease, lay you down in his bed. His gross disgusting bed.

He pouts. He fucking pouts at you. Sits in front of you.

“Don't tell me you’re jealous.” His frowns, tilting his head at you. “I didn't mean to make you! I swear! I just wanted to show you. How much I love you…how good I could make my pretty doll feel.” You could never be jealous. Not of anything involving him.

Especially not involving the putrid fucking sex doll that lays next to you in bed.

How he fucked it last night, making you watch. Made you hold his hand while he thrust into the thing. Made you cup his face as he came inside.

“How I’ve been practicing just for you.” He coos, a smile gracing his lips as he moves to his knees, crawling towards you in the bed. “Humans are hard to understand…And I really just can’t wait for you any longer.”

You don’t hear his words. Your eyes fixated on the doll that looks just like you. Every freckle the same, every mole. Every fucking tiny detail mirrored yours in a lifeless, hollow core made of silicon. Filled up with his cum. You don’t want to think about how many times he’s fucked it. How many times he’s pretended having sex with you while holding it close. How much he had to have spent to get such a thing.

How deep whatever he feels for you runs.

You swear it probably coats his veins. Running under every inch of this skin. Giving it color. Giving it life. It's all you’re able to think about when he leaves you alone in the apartments. It’s hard for you to swallow. To believe for yourself. You wish it is a lie.

You let him get close. You let him into your bubble for only a second. You allow his face into your neck. Biting your skin, drawing blood once again. He loves the taste. You think he's probably obsessed with it. You wanted to recoil away, disgusted with how he hums, lapping at the skin. But you don’t. You need to let him have this. Even if it's just for a second.

You close your eyes tight. You feel him relax. He thinks you’re giving in. You know he does. You can do this. You can do this. You may have only made this decision a moment ago as you stared at the doll, but you had to do this. You had to do it for yourself. It may be the last chance you get. You can’t stop fighting.

You can do this. You can do this.

The mantra chants over and over again in your head like a prayer. You feel his hand reach up, covering your clothed breast with his palm. Massaging it carelessly, without any thought or respect for you. In his head you’re probably the same as that fucking sex doll.

Your knee shoots up. Right into his crotch. Right where it hurts the most. Your hands shove him with all the strength in your body, getting him off of you. Getting him away for only a moment while he recovers. Maybe. Maybe you can make it out of the door. Or maybe you can make it to the bathroom and lock yourself inside. Maybe you have a chance. Just maybe.

Your body scrambles off of the bed, moving faster than you ever thought was possible. You race towards the door, arm reaching out for the handle. You’re so close. You’re almost there. You’re almost able to get away.

Freedom is within your grasp, it's so close you can taste it. He forgot to lock the door, you know he did. You didn't hear any of them click back in place when he came inside. He was too caught up in the moment with trying to find you. If you make it there then maybe, just maybe you can get outside. Run as fast and as far away as you can. Call the police and escape from him. Spread the wings he’s tried to clip.

You land flat on your face.

Not even your arms are able to cushion your fall.

A stitched hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you, dragging you again. Backwards. Back into the cage. Back to him. His chest heaves. His shoulders hunch. He looks disheveled. Crazed.

He has that fucking smile plastered on his face.

“I love it when you run. It's so pretty.” He giggles, “You know me so well.”

You kick at him, thrash your body as he pulls you closer and closer. “Get the fuck away from me!” You yell, though it falls on deaf ears. All the strength in your body is being used to get away. To try and escape from him. He can’t be human. He’s too strong. Even with your struggle he still lifts you easily, like you’re just some fucking little kid having a temper tantrem.

“I’ve been so patient…” He sighs, placing– rather, forcing you onto the edge of the bed. Your knees on the floor as your torso is pressed against the mattress. Your arms pinned behind your back with one of his hands. Your hips pinned in place with his own. You can feel his cock against you. He’s hard. “I really am patient, you know?”

He hums, gently rocking his hips against you. His entire length pressed against your cunt. Taunting you. Words are not needed for you to know what’s to come. “It’s really too bad you know? I’ve run out.”

The simple statement makes your blood run cold.

“I’ve been so gentle…so caring…” He purrs, forcing his sweatpants down his legs. Just enough for his cock to spring free. Just enough for him to be able to stroke himself. For him to press the fat head where he wants– no, no. Needs to be. “I’ve really been trying my best to be good for you.”

You wish you could see. You wish you could see everything– exactly what he is doing. What he is planning to do to your wrecked frame. If, if everything wasn’t such a surprise then maybe… maybe you could make it a little better. But like this… you’re helpless. You’re trapped. You hate it. You can’t stand it. You wish you still had more tears left to cry. But you know it’s over. You can’t do anything now.

Exactly how he wants it– wants you.

You feel him stop moving, an excited gasp resonating from his throat. His entire presence changes in a flash, giddiness taking him over as the cogs in his brain turn. Making his own story, his own reality changing all over again. “Unless, you don't want me to be good for you? You want me to take what I want? That’s why you’ve been trying to run and hide?”

His frame towers over yours, his full weight pressing against your back forcing you deeper into the bed as he mumbles into your ear. “All you had to do was say so~ ♡”

All you can do is whimper in response. Whimper like a wounded animal that's been forced to accept their fate. Your head is blank, devoid of all thoughts and feelings. There is nothing. Nothing you can do.

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe a small part of you does like it. Who knows. You certainly don’t.

He blows gently on your ear, teasing you before he leans back. Your bottoms are forced down, exposing your cunt to the entire room. You can feel him practically buzzing with excitement. With some sick pleasure found deep within his gut.

“So pretty!” He whines, spreading your cheeks to get a full view of your pretty little cunt. You hate that you’re already wet. You hate that the feeling of his cock did it to you just moments before. You hate that he can see it. You hate the way pride bubbles up in his gut. The way you can hear him lick his lips like a starved man.

Hate what the other little voice is saying inside of your head. Hate that even maybe a little bit of your soul wants to feel him. The quiet fucked up voice that you always try to scilence.

“Mm… I wanna taste you so bad but… I really can’t wait anymore… what am I supposed to do!!” You can practically hear the pout plastered on his lips. “Ah~”

The fat head of his cock finds its way back to your cunt, dragging itself up and down your lips. Milking every last bit of wetness out of your hole. Your nails dig into your own hands— maybe his. It’s hard to tell where you stop and he begins. When he’s this close it’s hard to tell much of anything.

“We have forever together don’t we?” He chuckles, his head stopping at your unprepped little hole. Attempting to push into it with just enough pressure to have you squirm. Have you bite down on the sheet to silence any sounds that might try to come through. “We can try out all sorts of fun things together~”

His thumb aids as he tries to push the head of his cock inside. Prodding, trying to force his way inside without a care in the world for how it might hurt. How it might feel for you. He’s too big— you’re, you’re too tight. You can’t take it! It won’t fit you just, just!

“Mmmm!!” A muffled cry breaks free from your throat as the head of his cock buries itself in your cunt. Your ears ring, pain taking over your senses as he lets out a mouth watering, near pornographic moan from above you.

His grip on your wrists tighten, eyes staring at where he’s fucked himself into you. Wow~ it’s so pretty. He never expected a human to feel this good! It’s incredible! Magnificent! And this is just the first inch of him? Oh my… he can only imagine what bottoming out with feel like— how it will feel when his cock is pressed against your cervi—

Wait wait!! He’s getting ahead of himself again. A gasp leaves his throat as he pulls out, a muffled whine leaving your own. Your hole clenches around nothing. What a cute little thing! It’s calling him back in!! He knew you wanted this, he knows all about you huh?

He drags his cock back and forth through your lips again, red mixing in with the pretty white. He dips his cock head over and over again into your entrance, thrusting himself deeper and deeper every time. Stretching you just perfectly around his length.

Hmm, humans like prep right? He figures that this is close enough. His doll doesn’t need it. She just takes him right away— someday you’ll be the same! He just needs to break you in! But until then, he needs to savor this… who knows when you might come around again?

Mmm… you’re too mean to him. Yeah, that’s all it is.

Ah, it’s too bad he’s too lost to notice you’re already falling apart. Your back is arching on its own. Working without permission to give him a better angle. Your hips bucking, leaning back ever so slightly as he presses into your cunt. Urging him just a little deeper. Your pussy is too wet to think about anything, your head in a daze as he teases you, taunts you relentlessly.

You don’t want this— at least you think you don’t. But, it’s so hard to know what you really want when you’re head gets like this. When it’s actually feeling good. When the pleasure mixes with pain to concoct something dangerous. Something that makes you unsure of anything really. Maybe you’re dumb, maybe you’re stupid. Yeah. You probably are. But that’s okay. He likes that.

He likes you.

He slides his cock inside of your hole, his hand moving to your ass as thrusts his hips. Forcing his cock deeper and deeper with each stroke. Your walls clenching around every inch that pushes its way inside. God, you’ve never felt so full. You’ve never felt anything like this. Anything like his cock, anything like him.

Whimpers, whines, all sorts of sounds escape your throat as you let him do what he pleases. Give into whatever twisted pleasure is being given to you. It’s hard to stop them when he’s even louder— panting like a fucking dog as he feels you. Feels every inch of you. Makes you two become one.

He fucks into you so hard it hurts. So hard that your entire body is being pushed into the bed, spine curving up to meet him with every demonic thrust of his hips. Every time the skin of his thighs meets your ass, every time the head of his cock meets with your cervix, pain racks through your body. You can’t take it. You feel like you’re going crazy. You feel like you’re the insane one.

The sound of skin against skin penetrating the sound of your ears like some sort of sick, twisted song. A song he plays so well. One you don’t want him to stop. No matter how much it hurts, how it stings you, you just can’t find it in yourself to push him away. His moans feel like a siren’s voice, luring you closer and closer, pushing you so close to the edge.

“Why’s she so mean!” He whines, his thrusts frantic and hurried. Only caring for his own pleasure, only caring about him. “Won’t let me in any deeper doll! Can you believe that?” He groans, pressing his cock so hard against your cervix you nearly scream in pain. Your body thrashes, trying to get away from the sensation.

He shushes you quietly, leaning his torso against your back as he coos. “Shh… shh… it’s okay… we won’t try that today okay? Must be too much for you… poor thing.” His hips relent, slowly rocking into your battered cunt to give you a little bit of a break. To rest before the main event.

You want to cringe at how wet you sound, how messy you’ve become due to his cock and his cock alone. How greedily your pussy takes him, urging him back with every thrust. Wanting it. Wanting him.

You see his arm reach past your head, grabbing onto your mimics hair. Pulling the doll closer. Holding its head so it’s staring right into your eyes. It’s so lifeless. So hollow.

“It’s okay.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Someday you’ll take me just like she can, yeah? You’ll be sooo~ good for me.” His hips start to pick up their pace again, thighs slapping against your ass so hard you might see stars. So hard you actually want to listen to him.

“I had to break her in too, real good.” He pants out, loosing himself in the feeling of your tight, warm walls.

You flinch away. You can’t look at it anymore. Can’t look at a face that is exactly your own yet so cold and distant. So lost. Used for months on end. Maybe a little sense comes back to you, a small part of reality seeping back into your skull.

He tsks. Fucking tsks and shakes his head in disappointment. “That won’t do… I need my girls to like each other…” He grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at the thing. The creature with your hair and eyes.

“Kiss it.” His voice changes in a second, morphing into something commanding. Something scary. Fuck reality. Living in whatever dream you’ve created for yourself is better. Better than facing this. You don’t want to disobey. You want to listen, want him to let you cum. Maybe want his praise, even if it’s just a little.

Your lips meet with the cold, lifeless silicon. Tasting whatever disgusting leftover cum can be found on its lips. He pushes the head against your lips, forcing you to lick your tongue inside. “Adorable!!”

He likes it. He likes it too much. You can tell.

Tell by the way his hips pick up speed, forcing your used hole to take him over and over again. Forcing you to accept him into your body. Forcing you to fall for his cock. Make sure no one else will ever be able to use it. Use you like the way he wants to.

Can tell by the way his cock twitches, his thrusts becoming sloppy. His pace completely out the window as he searches for nothing but his own release.

Maybe you like it too. Like the way his cum tastes. Like the way he took this, took all of you for himself. All of you flesh as his. The coil tightens in your stomach, white specks start to form behind your eyelids. You’re close, too fucking close you just can’t take it anymore.

A loud moan leaves your lips, muffled by the silicon held against your mouth. Waves of pleasure crashing through your frame like a tidal wave of ecstasy as white paints the inside of your walls. Ears ringing, vision gone white as endorphins fill your brain making you forget— forget everything about this moment. How fucked up it is. How you want more.

Your walls clamp around his cock as it jerks in your cunt, milking every last drop of cum from him. Filling you up until you’re full. Until you can’t think anymore. Until you’re so tired you just want to collapse.

He drops the doll letting you pull your head back to finally be able to breathe again fully. Your frame slumps against the bed. Tired. Drained of everything it has to give.

He slowly pulls out of your abused little hole, watching the way it flutters around nothing. Watching the white mixed with red slowly drip out of it onto the rug. “Humans are such incredible little things…”

He smiles, shallowly dipping a finger inside your hole before popping it in his mouth. Just a little taste. “You did so good doll…” He pets your hair, gives you some sort of comfort after everything he’s done. It’s the least you deserve.

He moves your body into the bed with ease, pulling a blanket over your shaking form. A nap would be good right now. It’s always good to give humans at least one nap a day! Mhmm… and you seem like you could use one.

He moves behind you, wrapping an arm around your body from behind. Pulling you close to his chest. Making no mind to fix your clothes. This is good. This is right. It’s how it’s always supposed to have been!! Ah, and now he has all the time to make you understand that too. He’s so lucky. So lucky to have found such a good human.

“Night night dolly…” He whispers in your ear, brushing your hair gently. Coaxing you to sleep. “Let’s have a great day tomorrow too, yeah?”

Right. Cause this is forever. ♡

Dismemberment.

Yan Mahito x GN Reader.

Synopsis: Mahito wants to learn more about human biology.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, Mahito as his own warning, medical horror (drugging, non-consensual surgery) and implied past violence.

Word Count: 400.

*~*~*~*

“I’m not a medical student anymore, not that I was one for very long anyway.” You say, trying to be gentle. “I’m not that knowledgeable with this kind of thing. I can’t really teach you anything.”

Mahito ignores your pleas to put it simply, still putting the surgical tools on the dirty metal table, sewer flies already resting on them and buzzing. “It’s okay! You still know some things that I don’t. After all, you wanted to be a nurse once upon a time.”

The man was unconscious on the “operating table” as you were forced to call it, a table you tried to clean to the best of your ability but still smells heavily of algae and bacteria-infested water. You wanted to at least try to make sure he won’t get infections in whatever areas Mahito cut and hopefully later sewed shut. You got a part of what you wanted thankfully, having Mahito give him anesthesia so he would not be conscious for a majority of the horror show about to play out here.

“Keyword wanted to.” 

You nearly sigh when there is a sudden pull of one of your fingers; the broken one that still has not healed. So, you don’t sigh, instead choosing the best of two evils. He would still force you to go this either path you take anyway.

“Okay, okay…! I’ll teach you. Just let go–”

“Yippie!” With his response and an immediate release, your hand flies to your face, making you slap your nose and Mahito laugh loudly. You stumble backward and nearly fall on the slippery concrete occipital bone first. If you did, Mahito would be more than happy to experiment on your anatomy rather than some random man’s, so you count your blessings and thank yourself and whatever is watching over you that you did not. 

“Let’s just start already.” You say, looking over to the large dog bed Mahito gave you when he first took you, a partially soaking wet copy of Stephen King’s Misery, and your almost busted Nintendo DS. 

Then you look at the chips and other snacks that Mahito got from the nearby convenience store earlier that week, though most of them were stale because they did not close properly. Still, it is better than simply starving to death.

You keep having nightmares from that day on that you will eventually be the one on the table.

Idol.

Yan Mahito x F Reader.

Synopsis: Mahito is a big fan of yours. Too bad you can’t see him yet.

Warnings: Yandere themes, stalking, some not SFW implications, Mahito as his own warning, and implied future kidnapping.

Word Count: 400.

*~*~*~*

Mahito skillfully maneuvered his way amidst the bustling masses, navigating through the throngs of individuals, past the vigilant guards stationed outside your dressing room, until he was standing right before you. This task proved effortless for him, considering that the majority of people are unable to perceive his presence, including yourself, much to his dismay.

If you had, he would have relished envisioning the expression on your face–wide doe eyes, a startled cry, tears streaming... The potential outcomes are boundless within the realms of his imagination, contemplating what could have transpired... or perhaps what lies ahead, in due time.

Mahito has never been the best when it comes to patience, but he will try for you. Only for you. He just has to wait until your national tour ends. If he remembers correctly, your last stop should be in Kyoto. When your performance is over, he will be able to snatch you up with ease. He thinks, no, knows it will be a breeze.

“I’m your biggest fan.” He murmurs, looking over to your messy vanity. “Tsk, you really should not be rushing like this.”

You can’t see him, as usual. He recognizes your inability to do so, as you continue to gracefully apply mascara to your stunning eyelashes, completely unconcerned.

His smile would be a horrifying sight to you, reflexed in the mirror, and would certainly make you scream like blondes from B-listed horror movies he steals sometimes. “I wonder… How many autographs do I have to steal this time? Certainly a lot, right?”

However, his smirk leaves his face when he sees all of the gifts in the corner on the table in the back corner of the room. Teddy bears, flowers, cards, certainly everything he could get you, even better ones if you ever asked him to do so!

But that’s for later. Because while Mahito has never been the best with patience, he will do anything for you. Even if that means waiting a few more weeks. It is only a matter of time; he tells himself every hour or so. It’s only a matter of time before he’ll snatch you up and take such good care of you with a pretty collar on your neck and a chain and his hand pressing the top of your head until you are on your knees and-

…Once more, he must remind himself to exercise patience. There will be ample opportunity to bring his fantasies to life at a later time. Because slow and steady wins the race, right?

Hayloft.

Yan Mahito x GN Reader.

Synopsis: Mahito wants to farm.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, Mahito as his own warning, implied minor character death, and implications of violence/forced cannibalism.

Word Count: 800.

*~*~*~*

“Sounds fun! Looks so too!”

Mahito’s fingers tap and tap on the glass, unsurprisingly never leaving any fingerprints or smudges. He is a curse, after all. It makes sense. Not that you have to be reminded of such, with how little he knows of human culture, the world at large, or with how much he shapeshifts into a disembodied head at night to scare half-awake you. 

You are both sitting on a giant bean bag in the shape of a green slime of all things that Mahito brought in an hour or so earlier. Mahito, as expected, takes up most of it with a malformed arm wrapped around your shoulders and back. 

In your hands is a Nintendo Switch, the sticker case on the joycons, and the screen itself somewhat peeling off, but still the pink bunny and strawberry drawing designs stay intact.

The YouTube app is on, showing a playthrough of Stardew Valley. This part of the sewers had two bars of wifi from the little ramen place above it, something you are grateful for in some aspect. Because of it, you have one more piece of entertainment that is now Mahito bringing you back stale snacks and stuffed animals (that you pray to whatever higher power that they were not alive before Mahito got his hands on them) and nearly smothering you with hugs. 

This is calming. When you just read the dialogue of the characters and listen to the music and pay attention to the satisfying sight of the farmer planting pumpkin seeds and apple tree saplings, it is calming, you are calm, Mahito is, at least partially, calm.

Mahito wanted something to watch today and brought the Nintendo Switch for you to play with as he simply observes. It could be worse, you reminded yourself before you attempted to protest, stopping yourself. It could be much worse. He could turn you into the Nintendo Switch, or much, much worse.

It can be so much worse. He can be so much worse. Your life as a captive can be so much worse. Everything can be so much worse. That is a line you never want to cross because everything can be so, so much worse than it already is.

Mahito raises his free hand, and you pause the video, just as you were taught to. He then points again at the field of two-dimensional, square-like crops all in multiple rows of hoed soil. 

It’s springtime in the game, you think, from how the cherry trees have pink blossoms and petals falling onto nearby ground all around it.

Mahito counts with his fingertip, jumping from one plant to the next and then from one row to the next.

He whistles, and it makes you flinch because that is the same noise he makes whenever you scream, a reaction to when he brings a body part of someone you loved here, throwing it down beside the small dog bed you were given for good behavior, the blood staining the fabric as it falls with a grotesque, sort of plopping sound.

If Mahito wants to grow vegetables and fruit in the few places this sewer has sunlight, he can be your guest.

“Potato, cauliflower, garlic… green beans, kale, parsnips, rhubarb, strawberries…” He says each word like he has never heard of them before. Considering he has never really set foot in a grocery or convenience store for anything other than chips, it is not all that surprising. With another wave of his hand, you rewind it to the moment where the farmer character starts watering the seeds when they are freshly planted. He waits. So do you. “Sounds good! We can make some cheese cauliflower, parsnip soup, pizza, hashbrowns… just imagine it! Yum… I can just picture it now.”

With yet another wave of his hand, you stand up and so does he. Relief goes through you, like a ghost, both horrifying you and making you feel the smallest bit of hope that for once Mahito can act normal.

…

“M-Mahito, vegetables don’t grow that fast.” You say, looking down at the plate of baked fish with what smells like kale and garlic underneath, along with lemon and salt. “H-How-”

“It’s simply the power of love!” Mahito exclaims, inhaling loudly to smell the dish in front of you two. He sighs softly. “A pure demonstration of my love, all I do for you, and all I will do for you in the future.”

You could have sworn that there was the smallest voice from the fish if Mahito’s bragging of how much work went into making you a dish from Stardew Valley was not so loud.

Help me.

“Dig in, cutie!”

You would do anything for Mahito’s grin to not turn into a frown, so you pick up your fork with trembling, scarred hands.

Body.

Yan Mahito x F Reader x Yan Nanami.

Synopsis: He hasn’t come back yet. It is far past dusk, and you are here sitting in the dark, waiting as you were taught to.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, mentions of violence/not SFW, and major spoilers for late S2 of JJK.

Word Count: 500.

just pretend mahito survived and is still just a silly little gremlin <3

*~*~*~*

The apartment has always been devoid of any color and has always had a musky smell lingering in the air. But things had changed when you were asleep; things like the entrance being cleaner than usual, and that suffocating earthy scent being replaced with something more bitter.

There were flowers on the dining room table when you woke up, marigolds, accompanied by a large breakfast platter. Eggs, toast with butter and jam, coffee, and cherry tomatoes. 

“...” You didn’t yell out anything to see if Kento was around, for he had told you last night he had to leave extra early for his job. You didn’t complain back then, and you still don’t now.

You were happy to be rid of him for a bit. You earned yourself the reward of having the bookshelf in the living room unlocked, along with the reward of getting your sketchbooks and notepads back.

However, as time passed, the joy gradually diminished, leaving behind only a nauseating feeling from your gut.

“...Hungry…” You murmur, looking away from your sketch and towards the clock that hung above the television. “...Seven… He’s late…” You say the words quietly to not alert the cameras Kento put all over the place, especially the one that was right next to one of the lamps. “...Good…?”

The cameras would see your drawing if you do or say anything louder, all of it, with Kento’s head sliced off and on the bottom right corner, having the image of rotting away in damp dirt with x’s replacing his eyes and his tongue sticking out. His arms and legs are in the other areas of the paper, put in puddles of blood just to get all of your anger out before Kento comes back.

But the feeling does not go away, and further into the night the sky goes, the hungrier and lonelier you are. Even though you wish you could miss anyone else, you miss Kento, because despite him being your kidnapper, he is all you can talk to while you are held captive in this apartment. 

You miss him, even with how each slap of his cane felt on your skin. You miss him, even with how every few days he would force your legs apart. You miss him, even with how his threats, while horrifying, also felt quite possible.

You miss him despite everything he has ever done to you. The pain it brings exceeds any words that can capture its intensity. The agony is far greater than everything Kento has ever done.

But then with the sound of the door creaking open, along with the sounds of humming a tune, your heart feels like it has stopped for a few moments. Even though you don’t know who exactly entered, you know that it was not Kento, and that scares you most of all. Your life flashes before your eyes and faster than you can blink, a man with gray hair grabs your shoulder tight.

“I think we’ll be great friends…”

Curiosity, the Killer

Mahito x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Synopsis: You went out tonight hoping to connect with a stranger. And technically, you did… after you got home. After he broke into your apartment and cornered you in the bathroom. Good luck getting rid of him - he’s not one to control his impulses. Especially when he’s feeling curious.

Tags: dark content, noncon, death threats, talk of murder, extreme possessiveness, general rough handling, biting, hair pulling, painful sex, creampie, mahito being a pervy lil pantie sniffer

Note: Might do a part two…my brain is rotting.

You slip through the front door of your apartment, kicking off your shoes the moment it shuts behind you. Tonight did not go as you’d hoped - although to be fair, you had an active imagination, and tended to set your hopes too high. In your mind, each time you went out was a potential first chapter to one of the guilty-pleasure novels you read (and sometimes, even attempted to write) in your spare time. A beautiful stranger would compliment your dress, offer to buy you a drink, dance with you where everyone could see, kiss you on the floor, take you home…

None of that had happened tonight. The closest you’d gotten was when a ridiculously drunk college student had thrust a shot of vodka in your face. You’d dodged, but you can still smell the splash of liquor that had landed on your dress.

You’d been with a crowd of friends - maybe that was the problem. None of them had been approached either, although a couple had left with guys they’d met on dating apps earlier this weekend. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe the idea of meeting someone in the real world had become a fantasy long ago. Maybe you were stupid to still believe in it.

In any case…the night is over. And with nothing to excite you, nothing to capture your imagination, sleep is beginning to take hold. You don’t let it catch you just yet - you make your way to the bathroom, and scrub at the makeup on your face until you’re back in your bare skin. The bathroom light flickers, and you make a mental note to change the bulb tomorrow. Not tonight - you’re too tired, and with your luck, it would probably end up shattered on the floor.

For a moment, you stare at yourself in the mirror. The simple, form-fitting black dress you wore tonight is one of your favorites. It makes you feel confident - beautiful, even. You let yourself appreciate it for a while before you finally reach for the zipper, contorting your arm to pull it down your back. A second later, the fabric hits the floor with finality, and you turn on the shower.

While you wait for the water to warm up, your eyes briefly flutter shut. Before you open them, before you take off your bra and underwear and step into your warm shower, you allow yourself just a moment to imagine what might have been. You sigh with longing, and wrap your arms tightly around your waist.

Then, at your weakest moment - a second pair of arms envelops your own.

You try to whip around, but they hold you fast, allowing you to turn just enough to get a glimpse of the intruder in the mirror, and to see a third hand clamp down over your mouth, dampening your scream before it makes it out of your throat. It’s a man, you think, but nothing about his appearance makes sense. The face you saw in the mirror isn’t right. It’s human, but covered in very un-human stitches, a patchwork that doesn’t quite add up when it’s all put together. When you look down, you see that his hand and arms are covered in them, too. And the hands…you saw three. You feel three digging into your skin. That doesn’t make sense. It’s not right. Again, you try to cry out, thrashing wildly in his arms as he presses into you.

He leans down, and flicks his tongue over your ear. “Hi. You just let me know when you’re done, okay?”

A fresh ripple of terror runs through you, because he sounds nothing like you expected. His voice is high-pitched and gleeful, far too casual for such a terrifying situation. You squirm against his grip, but it holds fast. You try to scream, again and again, until you finally accept that the seal on your mouth isn’t going to break, that the shower will obscure any sound that you do manage to make. You breathe shallowly, a black haze begins to obscure your vision. His palm is warm, damp, and smells worse than the stain on your dress.

“Are you done?” He laughs - actually giggles, like what he’s doing is nothing more than harmless fun. “Well, I guess you can’t really tell me. But you can nod your head if you are.”

You shake your head vigorously, trying desperately to tear your face from his grasp.

He sighs, exasperated. “If you don’t cut it out soon, I’m gonna have to kill you.”

At this, you freeze, too petrified to move an inch more.

“I don’t want you to die,” he continues, a petulant tone slipping into his voice. “I’ve got other plans. But I can’t just stand here covering your mouth all night.” He presses his face into the crook of your neck, lips scraping against your exposed skin. “I know you don’t really know what you’re dealing with,” he mutters. “But trust me… you would be really easy to kill. I just have to do this.” A fourth unseen hand juts out from behind you and wraps around your neck. The fingernails on this hand are long, and unnaturally sharp. Sharp enough to break your skin with ease. “It’s easy from here. All I have to do is squeeze, or slice…either way, you’ll die!”

What is this thing? You’d like to believe that you’re hallucinating, but the nails tapping against your skin feel far too real.

“If I let go of you,” he explains, “I need to know that you’re not gonna scream or try to run away. I want this to be a nice night for us. It’s not gonna be nice if I have to spend it killing the people that come running to save you. I don’t wanna be distracted.” He kisses you gently on the neck, and a chill runs down your spine.

The way he’s talking…it sounds like he actually thinks he’s being sweet. You’d be less terrified if he was self-aware. If he knew what a terrible thing he was doing.

He nuzzles his face against your hair, inhaling deeply as he raises a sharp nailed finger to caress the line of your jaw. “You looked so lonely tonight,” he sighs. “I noticed it right away.”

You stiffen. He’s so deep in his delusion that he seems to have lost all grasp on reality - but he’s right about the loneliness. What, and how, does he know?

“Even with all your friends around you,” he sighs. “So miserable. Like you were waiting for someone special, and they never came.”

Everything. He knows everything. He’s had his eye on you for hours…if not longer.

“You won’t be lonely anymore if you’re good for me,” he murmurs. “And you’ll be alive.” His teeth grind into your neck, gnawing away like a dog on a bone, and your body tenses at the sudden pain. “Come on,” he whines, his voice muffled by the pinch of skin still locked between his jaws. “Just promise to be good - just nod your head…”

What choice do you have? Even if there is some other choice, your mind is too scrambled to think of it. Too confused by all the impossibilities you’ve just witnessed, still reeling from the revelation that he’s been watching you all night. Later, you’ll try to work out how he managed to enter your home, but that’s not on your mind right now - not when your life depends on a single quick decision. You nod, and when his hands slip from your face and neck a moment later, you don’t make a sound.

“Good job!” The arms around your waist squeeze you tighter, and you hear the other pair clapping in celebration behind you. “I was worried you were gonna do something stupid. I’m glad you didn’t…I’ve got such exciting plans for you. I’d be so sad if I didn’t get to use them.” He drops his arms from your waist. “Turn around. I wanna see you.”

Slowly, stiffly, you turn to face him. The third and fourth arm have somehow disappeared - he looks human now, save for the stitches running across his skin. He’s got long hair, colored a light blue. For some reason, you don’t think it’s dyed. With everything you’ve just seen, unnatural hair doesn’t seem out of the question. His eyes are mismatched - one is blue, the other grey. They’re striking, shining with a bright intensity that almost makes you want to look away.

His left hand latches onto your waist, and the right twists through your hair. “You’re pretty on the outside,” he whispers, bringing his face so close to yours that you go cross-eyed. “On the inside…you’re the same as the rest. But I don’t care about that right now.” He pulls on your hair, practically humming in excitement as you cry out. “Or maybe I do. All your silly, stupid little human desires…they’re the reason you looked so miserable tonight, aren’t they? You wanted something - or someone.” He yanks your head up and down, forcing you to nod in agreement. “I know I’m right. You were looking for another human to…how do you phrase it? To sleep with?” He smiles, his eyes stretched grotesquely wide. “So many of you have that same desire…I’ve been trying to understand it. It’s been killing me, all the wanting, the not knowing. But then I realized - if I want to understand, all I have to do is try it out!”

He pulls you into a rough, sloppy kiss, and your eyelids shut, squeezing out the tears that have gathered beneath them. You don’t want to do this. The way he’s been talking makes you feel like a specimen under a microscope - or a lab rat in a cage. When it ends…will he let me go? For a split second, you see an image of your body lying cold and lifeless beneath your bedsheets. Your eyes snap open, and you see that his already are.

“Mmm.” His eyes are narrowed, his lips pulled into a grin just a bit too wide for his face. “I made a good choice…I like you. You get even prettier when you’re scared.” Without warning, bends down, grabs both of your ankles, and yanks you off your feet. Your ears ring painfully as he drags you out of the bathroom, across the hall, shouldering open the door that leads to your bedroom. He kicks it shut behind him. Then, he pulls you into the air, dangling your body carelessly in front of him. You squirm and thrash, caught like a fish on a line.

Carefully, he makes his way across the room, and deposits you on your bed, laying you down on your back. Before you can sit up, he’s kneeling on top of you, one leg on either side of your stomach, his body pinning you to your mattress. He pulls off his shirt, drops it to the floor, and tumbles forward, his stitch-covered chest slapping against yours as his tongue darts into your mouth, exploring every inch of the space inside. When he pulls back, he’s panting like a predator at the end of a chase, eyes lidded, tongue lolling from his mouth and coated in drool. “I like this. I can’t believe I waited so long to try it.”

A whimper escapes from your lips as he slides his hands across your chest and rips your bra down the middle. He gropes you freely, squeezing and pinching until you’re crying out in pain.

“You make such cute sounds,” he whispers, taking a break from his assault to brush your hair back from your face. He squeezes your cheeks between his hands, forcing your lips to pucker, paying no mind to the glare in your eyes. “Adorable.” He grabs your wrists, pinning them to your side, and slithers down the length of your body, settling between your legs. You feel an unwelcome rush of heat to your core as he buries his nose and lips in your panties, his grip on your wrists tightening painfully as he inhales. “You even smell good,” he sighs, his muffled voice vibrating up your spine. “Do you smell like this all the time? Or is it a special scent? Does it mean you want me inside you?”

“I don’t want you.” The words spill out before you can reel them in.

“Sure you do.” His tongue darts from his mouth, and slides greedily over your cunt, the thin fabric stretched over it doing nothing to dull the sensation. “I know how your body works. I know what it means when you get all warm and wet…” He raises his face, and grins up at you. “You’re ready for me. And I’ve been ready for you for a very long time.” He grasps your panties in his teeth, and jerks his head, tearing a massive hole that leaves your cunt completely exposed. “I’ve been so curious. So desperate to know what it feels like. Why you all want it so badly…”

His body slides up over yours; he gathers your wrists in one hand and pins them over your head. The other hand yanks at the waist of his pants, pulling them down just enough for his cock to spring free. “Keep your eyes open,” he hisses, the tip of his cock already pressed to your entrance. “You’re mine. My favorite little experiment. I wanna know how I makes you feel.”

Your mouth falls open as he thrusts into you - it’s too much, too big, too fast, and you hear yourself cry out in pain as your eyes involuntarily snap shut. A second later, a rough pair of fingers tug at your eyelids, forcing them open. The face of your captor bears down upon you, eyes alight with sickening pleasure.

“Does it hurt?”

You nod quickly, tears already building up in the corners of your vision.

“Awww.” He stares shamelessly into your watery eyes, the tip of his tongue sliding over his front teeth as he presses into you. “You’re pretty when you cry, too.” His thrusts are erratic, each one pushing deeper inside you, as if he’s testing how far he can go. As you stretch around him, the pain begins to fade, replaced by a sensation that sends your eyes rolling back, even as your stomach sinks with dread. You don’t want to enjoy this. You can’t. In vain, you attempt to free yourself, squirming desperately beneath him, contorting your trapped hands to scratch feebly at the back of his palm.

“You wanna fight? That’s so cute.” He shoves the full length of his cock inside you, cackling at the way your eyes widen in response. “So, so cute…makes me wanna keep you. Wanna see how long it takes for you to stop fighting…for you to like it…”

You try to tell yourself that he’s babbling, that he doesn’t mean any of it. That he’ll leave, that you’ll never have to see him again, that your life will go on just as it was before. It all feels like a lie. He’s insane, but he believes every word that he says. If he says he’s not letting you go…

“You feel so good.” He groans, and presses his face against your neck. “I don’t think this is gonna last much longer…but that’s okay. We’ll try again. We’ll practice until…” He gasps. “Until forever. Yeah. I’m gonna keep you forever.” His cock pulses inside of you. His hand slips from your wrists and slides under your back, locking you in a deadly embrace - as soon as your hands are free, you try to push him away, but he’s oblivious to your efforts and impossible to move, nestled securely against you as his cum gushes deep into your cunt. He stays where he is for many, many painful seconds, only pulling away when he’s gone soft inside you. Then, he turns you onto your side, and wraps his arms around your waist.

You let your own arms go limp. It’s too late to struggle, useless to try. Much easier to lay your head down, and surrender to the kisses peppering the back of your neck.

“All mine,” he hums, dragging his hand in loose circles over your stomach. “All mine.” He lifts his head, peers over your shoulder. “Oh, come on. Don’t look so sad.” You turn your head to look back at him, a tight knot forming in your stomach as he wipes a stray tear from your cheek. “You should be happy. You got what you wanted!” He cups your face in his hand, and smiles. “You belong to me now. And that means you’re never, ever gonna be lonely again.”

hypothetically…

A fucked up mahito drabble (is there any other kind?)

Word Count: 1300

Synopsis: after you witness him killing for the first time, mahito reassures you in a way that makes you feel much, much worse.

“If I was gonna kill you…it wouldn’t be like that. It would be much more personal.”

Content Tags: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. DARK CONTENT. noncon. description of gore/dead body, blood, dacryphillia, hypothetical description of reader being murdered during sex (does not actually happen), fear kink, reader is scared out of her damn mind, biting (accompanied by more blood!), mahito implies that he would be down to fuck a corpse

When you see him kill for the first time, you break down into tears. You’re not sure what pushes you over the edge: the explosion of flesh and blood that spatters the floor of the sewer as you peer around the corner, or the gleeful smile that spreads wide across his face as he looks down at the remains of his work. When you follow his gaze, you can see chunks of skin, bone, sinew - the limbs are still intact, their tattered edges dripping with fresh blood, but the entire torso is blown to bits. You heard the screams moments ago…now, you regret following them.

It takes him a minute to notice you standing there. You know that you should take the opportunity to run back to the place where he left you, to pretend that you didn’t see, but your sheer horror pins you in place. When he does see you, he rushes to your side, and smushes your face between his hands to kiss you. His palms are wet - you don’t want to think about why. “Aww. You came to watch! How sweet.” When he notices your expression, he cocks his head. “There’s nothin’ to cry about, cutie. I’m just having fun.”

You sniff, and do your best to wipe your tears away. “Most people wouldn’t call that fun.”

“Not a person, sweetheart,” he reminds you. He hasn’t stopped smiling for a second, and his grin broadens as he stares down at your face. “You’ve got fear in your eyes…it’s lovely. And so strong that I can smell it on you, too.” He inhales deeply, and his tongue darts over his lips. “You really that scared?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah?” His eyes stretch unnaturally wide, glowing in the dim light. “Why?”

Your hands shake, a black haze encroaching on the corners of your vision. “I don’t know…”

“That’s a lie!” He jabs a finger between your eyes, and pouts. “I don’t like it when you lie to me. You know that.”

There’s a good reason for you to keep your thoughts to yourself. He’ll find them entertaining…and that’s never a good thing. But if he already knows that you’re not being honest, it’s safer to tell him now. Before he decides that he needs to force the truth out of you. “I’m scared because…if you did that to them…” You shudder, and choke back a sob. “How do I know you won’t do it to me?”

“Ohhh.” He laughs, and slings his arm around your waist, kissing you gently on the top of your head. “Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You know better than to feel completely relieved. But for the moment, you think you’re safe - until he opens his mouth again.

“If I was gonna kill you…” he muses. “It wouldn’t be like that. It would be much more personal.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. You feel weak at the knees - he follows you as you sink to the ground and takes a seat against the wall, spreading his legs and dragging you between them, pressing your back against his chest. He wraps his arms tightly around your waist, and rests his head on your shoulder. “You’re such a pretty, pretty thing…” he murmurs. “You deserve a very special death.” His tongue slides up your neck, breath hot and dank against your bare skin. “I like you alive, for now. But hypothetically…if I did decide to kill you…” He squeezes you, hard, forcing the air from your lungs. “Yeah. I know exactly what I’d do.”

You stiffen in his arms, every one of your senses painfully sharp. Almost as sharp as the fingernails digging into your sides.

“I’d fuck you before I did it,” he declares, his voice bristling with excitement. “I’d put you on your back so I could see your face. I’d put my hand around your neck, and at the moment you came…” He pauses. “Hmm. Would you prefer me to strangle you, or slit your throat?”

Fuck. You knew he was deranged…but this is worse than anything he’s said to you before. Magnitudes worse. An unintelligible whimper is the only response you can manage.

“If you don’t have a preference, I think I’d prefer slicing you open. I like blood.” He grabs your jaw, wrenches your face towards him, stares intently into your fear-stricken eyes. “Not too much blood, though. I’d be gentle with you. Much gentler than I was with him.”

You follow the line of his hand to the mutilated corpse lying just feet away. You can smell it, the stink of blood and guts and death worming its way into your throat, churning the bile in the depths of your stomach.

“I’d be so sweet…I’d only rip you as much as I had to.” He turns you around and pulls you close, smiling as a fresh wave of tears streams down your face. “So pretty,” he hums. “I’d want you to still be pretty when you died, so I’d be very careful.” You try to hide your face, but his hand latches onto your jaw, freezing you in place as he kisses you roughly on the lips. His other hand plunges between your legs, and clamps down on your inner thigh. “Don’t worry,” he assures you. “I’m not gonna do it now. Maybe not ever.”

Maybe. He’s so casual about it - about holding your life in his hands.

Without warning, he shoves you onto your back, wriggling on top of you and trapping you against the floor before you can push him away. He grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand, and sinks his teeth into your neck, only pulling back once he breaks your skin - after watching your blood trickle out for a few seconds, he darts forward and laps it up, sticking out his tongue to show you the red stain before he kisses you again, leaving a rancid, metallic taste in your mouth.

He guides your hand under his body, pressing it between his legs. He’s hard. As desperately as you try to escape, he won’t let go of your wrist - he makes you touch him, grinding shamelessly against your unwilling hand.

His face hovers over yours, so close that you’re compelled to cross your eyes. “I learned something interesting the other day,” he whispers. “Can I tell it to you?”

He wants you to say yes - but you can’t bring yourself to speak. It’s all you can do to nod your head. You can feel your pulse thudding desperately in your ears, and in your palm.

“I learned,” he says, “that bodies stay nice and warm for at least ten minutes after they die. Especially on the inside.” He giggles. “I guess it takes a long time for all those squishy guts to dry out.”

You squirm instinctively, repulsed by the image that flashes through your head.

“You know what that means, right?”

“No…”

He grins terribly, and presses his lips to you ear. “It means,” he whispers, “that even if I did kill you…even after you went limp in my arms…I’d still have a little more time.”

Your mouth falls open, emitting a gasp that only makes him press harder into your hand.

“Shhh.” He presses his nose into your shoulder, his cheek rubbing against the fresh wound still leaking blood down your neck. “I told you…I’m not gonna do it today.” He raises his face as you thrash beneath him, watching your eyelids flicker, your face contorted with fear. “If I did…I wouldn’t get to hear all the pretty sounds you’re about to make.”

New Year’s Day

Mahito x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Synopsis: This particular holiday - it’s another one of those human concepts that he doesn’t quite get. And of course, he wants you to explain it. Out of all the questions he’s asked you, it’s certainly not the worst…right?

Content tags/warnings: kidnapped reader, forced relationship, implied noncon

A/N: a bit angsty, a bit philosophical, a bit dreadful. Because I cannot be normal about any holiday and neither can He

You’re lying on the concrete floor of the sewer, staring up at the ceiling. Hands layered under your head, providing just enough cushion to make your posture sustainable, if not necessarily comfortable. You’ve got a pile of blankets nearby, and yet at the moment, you prefer the floor. It’s something different, a hard, harsh sensation that nevertheless breaks up the oppressive same-ness of your surroundings. You’ve been here a long time, long enough that all sense of days and weeks passing has abandoned you. Staring at this same ceiling, these same walls. It’s quiet, too, except for the occasional drip of water. You barely even register that sound anymore, so accustomed have you become to your surroundings. You’ve counted every crack on the ceiling at one point or another, sung every song you remember in your head, silently recited snippets of conversations, old jokes - anything comforting. Anything to pass the time.

Right now, your mind is playing a lyric from a song whose title you don’t remember. Something from the early 80s, you think. It’s infuriating, in a very mild way, this incomplete memory, the way you can place the lyrics in time, but not in the song they’re from. You grapple with it for minutes on end, but you can’t seem to get beyond the few lines you remember, and the haunting string of melody between them. I will begin again. I will be with you again.

You’ve been experiencing frustration like this more and more often. You’re scraping the bottom of your memory, running out of new things with which to occupy yourself. And still - you’re still grateful for these times. The monotonous times. The moments when you can fix your eyes on a particular spot above you, and almost forget that you share this space with another. It’s strange, how these moments can stretch on for so long, and still seem not-long-enough once they come to an end. Even if it’s been hours, even if Mahito has been wrapped up in a book all afternoon - once he comes back to your side, the memory of those boring hours becomes fond, for a moment. Then, it seems to disappear, as if it were merely a mirage.

This particular reprieve is drawing to a close. Even now, you can hear the faint creak of him rising from his hammock, the fall of his feet upon the ground. You savor your last moments of isolation, tracing a crack in the ceiling with your eyes until, far too quickly, it’s obstructed by his hand waving an enthusiastic greeting - or perhaps, merely attempting to shake you from your trance.

He crouches down beside you, already reaching for your hand, and you quickly sit up. You prefer not to be lying down when he’s close. Of course, you know you’re equally vulnerable regardless of your position, but it makes you feel slightly - very slightly - better. Makes you feel like you have a bit more time before something inevitably goes wrong.

But it doesn’t last. He takes your shoulders, and eases you back down to the concrete. Tucks one of your hands carefully behind your head. Presses his palms to your knees until you give in, and straighten your legs. “I like this better,” he says simply. “I see you sitting up all the time. And standing, and curled up in a ball, and lying on your side…even lying on your back with your knees up, in the middle of all your blankets. But this doesn’t happen nearly as often. You kept pulling me out of my book this afternoon. The floor is hard. Not fun to lie on. But you still looked so…” he cocks his head, thinking through his next words. “Comfy! That’s what it is. You were even smiling for a while. I liked it.” He grins broadly, and takes your free hand. Squeezes. “And now I get to see it up close.”

You don’t smile. This doesn’t feel comfortable anymore. It feels exposed. It’s incredible, how quickly he can steal so much away from you. How he can make even the time you spend alone feel like his.

“I have a question,” he says, and you feel the pit in your stomach deepen. These conversations never end quickly. Especially not when he’s staring at you as intently as he is right now, eyes unblinking, a smile already playing at the corner of his lips.

You’ve been watching his face in silence for too long, apparently. With his free hand, he pokes you on the shoulder, the nail of his index finger carelessly stabbing you. Twice. “Cutie. Wake up.”

You release a long breath, doing your best to keep it steady. To not betray your discomfort. “What is it?”

“Celebrating the change from one year to another…why do humans do that?” His face hovers over yours, falling closer by the second, an almost suspicious expression written across his face. “You don’t celebrate the change from Saturday to Sunday, or November to December…so why does this one matter so much to you?”

Despite the precariousness of your situation, you can’t help but feel a slight bit of relief. As his questions go, this one isn’t bad. It’s not horrifically personal, or hinting at any sort of bloodshed. In fact, you’re sure that you’ve heard people ask similar things before. “I…never really thought about it.”

He jabs a finger at your brow. “Think! You’re a human…you can figure it out, if you try.”

“Well…” You could think better if his nose wasn’t brushing your face, but you don’t dare tell him that. “For one thing, it happens less often than a new week or a new month.”

“Hm.” His eyes slide upwards as he considers this, before landing once more upon your face, latching on a with renewed intensity. “Does that mean it matters more?”

“Maybe. But also, I think there’s something sort of…symbolic about it. It means something to people that months and weeks just don’t.”

He swells forward to plant a kiss on your forehead, leaving behind a splotch of saliva that you don’t dare wipe away. “See? You’re thinking! I knew you couldn’t do it. I can see those little gears turning in your head right now.” His grin is broad, eyes bright with curiosity. “What does it symbolize, then? What does it mean?”

It’s all you can do not to shut your eyes. All you can do to stop yourself from shuddering, from attempting to squirm out from underneath him. But this isn’t that hard of a question. You’ll answer it, and then he’ll be satisfied. Maybe he’ll even be happy enough to leave you alone for a bit longer. Although if he does…you won’t stay lying down. Not like this. You’ll probably never do it again, now that you know how it draws his eyes. “It means…a new start, for a lot of people.” He’s still staring at you, breathing shallowly against your cheek, waiting for more. You do your best. “Some people make New Year’s resolutions. Things they want to do in the new year that they didn’t last year. Exercising more, eating healthier, reading more books - that kind of thing. Not everyone sticks to them, but some do. For them, a new year is…a clean slate. A chance to do things differently than they did the year before.”

“Oh.” His grin slips a bit. As he thinks, his fingers tap absentmindedly against your shoulder, creeping slowly towards your neck. “So…it’s made up! The whole thing…you made it up, just to help yourselves feel better. To help yourselves change.”

“I mean…yes. In a way…”

He keeps speaking, as if he hasn’t registered the hesitance of your answer. “Humans do that a lot, don’t they? You take days, and decide that they’re special, because it makes you happy.”

You don’t like the fervor building up in his voice. The widening glow of his eyes. When he talks to you about humans, as if you’re merely something to be studied - it makes you feel like a specimen on the plate of a microscope. You try to remember the relative comfort of a few minutes ago, the song that was playing in your head moments before he crouched down beside you. But you can’t pull out the memory. With his face so close, you can barely even see the ceiling. He has this habit of taking up your entire field of vision, and the entire space between your ears. It’s suffocating.

You need him to stop talking. Need him to let you remember. Need to give him something new to ponder, just to buy yourself a few moments in your own head. A few seconds of your own time. “It’s made up…but for some people,” you manage, “it feels real. And thinking that it’s real…it helps them.”

He sighs, an almost melancholic sound that your body seems to echo as his finger traces up your neck, as his hand settles on your face, palming your cheek. “The lies you tell yourselves are beautiful, sometimes. But they’re still lies.” Slowly, inevitably, he lets himself fall on top you, the length of his body pinning your already motionless form to the floor. “You should understand that better than anyone.”

He’s looking up at you from your chest, and you press your head up from the floor to look back at him. You want to look up at the ceiling, to forget about him entirely, but right now, you know what a mistake that would be. Instead, you give in, and provide him the answer he’s looking for. “Why?”

“Because nothing changed for you,” he says simply. “You were here yesterday, and you were mine. And today - New Year’s Day - you’re still mine! And next year, too, and the year after that…for you, nothing is going to change. Ever.” He pulls himself along the length of your body, slithering up to draw his face even with yours. Aligning your mouths. Your eyes. “Don’t frown. It’s better this way. You’re free! No more silly little human lies for you.” He tugs at the corners of your mouth, pulling it up into a grotesque, unwilling smile. “That’s better!”

He kisses you, and his arms loop beneath your shoulders, holding you tight, fingernails digging through your shirt into the soft skin beneath. His hips press into yours, grinding slowly as you struggle to hold yourself still. His teeth sink into your bottom lip. And you think that despite what he’s said, there must be a part of you that still believes in your silly little lies. Because out of all the things that should be hurting you right now, all the thoughts you should be having - the only one you hear is: he didn’t tell me about New Year’s Eve.

Dark Mahito Thoughts™️ of the day:

There are a few things humans can do that Mahito can’t - because he can’t experience them for himself, he’s fascinated by them. His favorite is the concept of intoxication. This strange thing that humans do to themselves, voluntarily, purely because of the pleasure they find in it.

It only takes one night of lurking under neon signs for him to realize that humans act differently when their tongues are coated in a specific kind of drink. They lower their inhibitions, talk to strangers, stumble into the streets, make decisions they’re sure to regret. And they enjoy it. More than that - they revel in it. It’s a silly thing, and although he cackles at the sight, he’s also deeply curious about it. Aren’t they scared to be so vulnerable? Don’t they know that there might be consequences if they stray too far from familiar faces?

Surely, they do. And it must be worth it to them, anyways. It must be a wonderful experience for them, to be so detached from reality that they forget to be wary. They usually have their guards up. It’s fascinating to see them fall.

Humans do make stupid decisions sometimes. And he revels in those moments, too, although he can’t experience them for himself. He’s very good at living vicariously. It’s easy, when one is invisible. He can get close enough to smell the drink on their breaths, to feel the heat radiating from their bodies - and even closer than that, if he wants.

He tests the limits. Will this human, dancing in a crowd under flashing lights, notice a hand slide over her shoulder? If not - what if it falls briefly to her waist, or her thigh? And if she notices - will it scare her? Will she bother to look back at him? Will she think it was another human? Will she assume it was an accident?

Will she see him? It’s not out of the question - human perception changes under the influence. Their eyes change, and their souls along with them.

She’ll know something’s wrong once she leaves the crowd, and topples out into the street, directly into his arms. She’ll wake up from the haze - her eyes will widen, and she’ll put up a faint, confused struggle. He’ll try to reassure her, to tell her that he’s only curious, that she’ll be just fine, that she’ll enjoy his company, but she won’t understand, as hard as he tries.

Then again - humans don’t grasp much at all when they’re in this state. It’s one of the most entertaining things about it: the strange vacancy on their faces, the unintelligibility of their conversations, their ridiculous, futile attempts at comprehension.

But she won’t be like this forever. In the morning, she’ll understand. And if she doesn’t, he’ll try again. Humans are slow to accept, but they can’t hold out forever. Eventually, they all fall back into reality.

Thinking about: Mahito becoming obsessed with you not because your soul is particularly bright or pure, but because it’s a little bit…tarnished. He’s seen ones like yours before, and he’s not sure what exactly is wrong with them, but he can tell - some humans’ souls are not what they used to be. They’ve sustained damage, although certainly not the kind of damage that he’s used to inflicting.

At the beginning, he was frustrated to realize that there were ways to alter a soul besides his own methods. But frustration has given way to curiosity over time. So he takes you into his home, despite your violent protests, and cajoles you, by any means necessary, into answering his questions.

You’re confused, at first, when he talks about souls, when he asks what happened to yours - but before long, he’ll learn to translate his questions in ways you understand. He’ll prod at the details of your life - were there things that hurt? A lot? Too much to forget about? So much that something changed forever?

When you give way to his pressure and answer him, he’ll grin morbidly the entire time. Any person with a shred of empathy would look at your face and say “I know this must be hard to talk about” - but your hesitance only sharpens his craving for your story. He tugs at every loose string, until he’s sure he’s unraveled the mystery of not only your soul, but every single one like it.

They’ve been hurt, indeed. But not by curses. Quite the opposite.

And he’s satisfied, at last, because although it’s frustrating to see such destruction caused by someone other than him, it’s beautiful in a way, too. The things humans do to each other, and to themselves…they’re fascinating. It makes him almost proud to keep one at his side.