apparition

Gojo Satoru believes he is a decent man. Except when it comes to you, he is basically a pathetic loser who cannot make a single wise decision.

He has always been a fumbling mess around you since you two were kids. The first time you visited his residence with your grandmother, you looked filled with life. He was never the most lively kid on the block, but something about your infectious smile made his cautious child self let you hold his hand and drag him to the nearest playground. You only ever visited him thrice as that cheerful kid. He did not hear or see you after the third visit, and with time he stopped looking forward to you visiting.

So, Satoru did not hear of you in those next few years. It wasn't until he was a teenager, when he heard about you through his grandmother. She was telling his mother about how concerned she was for this friend’s family, who were in the same field of business as her, shamans. She spoke about how her friend's granddaughter was having a hard time because her powers were awakened. Back then he did not give it much or any thought. It has been years since he last remembered your playdates while your grandmothers did some 'crazy stuff,' in Satoru's good words, in his grandmother's home office. In all honesty, he forgot about you. 

Hence, he just told himself, “Damn, that must suck.” And moved on with his life. 

It could be said that it was his fortune and misfortune that he could see these entities from the very day he was born. Unlike you, who was suddenly thrust into this unknown and supernatural world. He did not get the privilege of being sheltered away from these concepts, so he had to adapt early. 

It was not until he met you in high school that he could not stop thinking about you. He heard rumors about you even before he saw you. And by putting two and two together, he figured you were the same person his grandmother spoke of, the same person who used to drag him to playgrounds, and the same person who's supposedly going through a rough time currently. 

He was not even in your class; he was in the class across from you. He would often see you at the very end of the class no matter how many times the seating chart changed. And you looked nothing like the girl he vaguely remembers in his memories. Sure, your physical features remained the same, but you looked pale, there were undeniable and dark bags under your eyes, and you looked lonely. It was as if someone took that hopeful little girl and sucked the soul out of her.

“Hey Satoru, you know that girl next door? She is a freak, dude!” The kid next to his seat burst out in laughter, with others joining in with him.

“Yeah, totally! I was in the same middle school as her, and she just did the weirdest things! Oof, it's giving me shivers!” Another guy would chime in with his annoying comments.

“Then is it true that she can see ghosts?” The first guy asked him, and everyone started looking at him expectantly, and the second guy looked all nervous. ‘Probably getting all that attention for the first time,’ Satoru thought to himself. 

Before that loser (according to Satoru) could go off on some lame tangent about bashing you for his one minute of fame, Satoru stood up from his seat and walked away. Sure, everyone was staring at him, but at that point he was used to it. With the few minutes he still had in his hand from the recess period, he walked up the stairs to the rooftop, where technically he or any student, wasn't allowed to be. Yet quite a few people went there, and Satoru was one of them. But he managed to get the timing perfect so he would never run into some other kid. 

That day, he fucked up that timing. Because that was the day he met you.

Satoru slammed open the door without any care, thinking he was the only person there. Which is why he jumped a few steps back when he saw a girl sitting on the concrete slab where he usually takes a nap when Suguru or Shoko aren't at school, or he just would rather get fucked by himself (everyone has those days).

The girl did not look back at him even once. Nor did she even flinch a little to check for the source of the noise that suddenly came barging onto the roof. Satoru stood there like a statue for a few good minutes and then started moving around to sneakily catch a glimpse of you. He stood behind you and leaned down just enough to notice your wired earphones tangled up and messy, plugging your ears. And dark circles under your eyes, and your eyelids heavy with maybe poor quality of sleep or just gloomy clouds similar to the ones covering the sky that day. 

Satoru was so immersed in you that unknowingly he leaned down a little too much, a little too conspicuously to not be noticed. So you took out your earphones and looked up to see what this new shadow was that was covering you. And there he was in his six-foot-tall, ivory-haired, and azure-blue-eyed glory—Gojo Satoru, the talk of the school and everyone's heartthrob. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” You did not even flinch when you saw him, just looked up at him with furrowed brows and annoyance. 

“Uhhh—nothing?” He said as nonchalantly as he could as he sat down to your right on the concrete slab. For someone who's famous in the entire school and neighboring schools for being a nonchalant guy who only gets all goofy with his closest people, a very private and mysterious man, the whole deal! He sure was acting way off his usual self.

“Alright, sure.” With a few words you went back to what you were doing, looking off into nowhere in particular with your ears plugged with music he could not hear. 

And there around you he saw an aura he had never seen around anyone before. It wasn't something shiny or an omnipotent source of light, but rather something dark and gloomy but so tempting and inviting. It was no wonder why he saw so many entities of all kinds of varieties looming around the rooftop. Not exactly near you, because around you was an impenetrable force they could not breach—he assumed it had something to do with your grandmother—so they lurked in the shadows, behind walls, and just on the threshold of the line they were drooling to cross. 

“You’re not gonna ask me anything else?” He leaned towards you and took out your earplug. 

To this day, he cannot answer why he exactly did that. Sure, some might say he is obnoxious and egotistical, but he is not those things to the point he doesn't know where and when he is not welcome. 

“I will have to ask you to fuck off if you are going to keep annoying me.” You looked at him without a clear expression on your face as if you've been encountering annoying and intrusive people all your life and have become desensitized to them. 

“Sorry. Just that—" He did not know what he was even saying or why he was even trying to make small talk. He hates small talk. 

“Are you going to say something or just keep spouting a bunch of nothing blah?” You were right; he was basically saying nothing for someone who basically initiated this entire interaction. 

“Yeah… I don't know what I want to say.” You blinked twice at his nervous face and took out your left earplug and shoved it in his ear and plugged the other one back in your ear, then went back to staring forward.

“Then don't say anything.” 

Gojo Satoru thinks that's the day he instantly fell in love with you. 

From there on, it was trying to catch attention however he could: by getting good grades or getting on the basketball team (even though they have been begging him since he started his freshman year), getting into competitions and hoping you'd participate in one so he gets a chance to run into you, or trying to figure out what club you're a part of.

But soon he figured out you basically did not exist. Peers, seniors, and everyone avoided you; even teachers didn't bother to speak to you other than to take your attendance. Your grades were horrible even though you were just a freshman; you didn't do anything other than attend classes, and even then you'd skip classes and spend your day at the rooftop or by the rabbit shed at the back of the school. That no one spoke to you; they just spoke about you. 

Sometimes he'd hear about how poorly your classmates were treating you, and he'd think back to why he always saw you on the same bench by the windows in the back. It was as if you were confined to this one little corner you were not allowed to come out of, or rather, you did not have the privilege of stepping out of. And every time he'd hear about something shitty that happened to you, because word travels fast, especially if you are in classes across from one another, he'd run to the rooftop, and there he'd find you listening to the same indie music album over and over, by some artist he had never heard before until he shared earphones with you. 

Two weeks after meeting you, two weeks after trying to get your attention, he heard how your classmates broke into your locker and drenched all your textbooks in orange juice. He heard about that from Shoko, when she casually mentioned that incident while sneaking a smoke in between classes in the abandoned classroom on the third floor. And he ran out without any thought, straight to the rooftop.

He found you exactly where he met you, with your earphones, messy uniform, and cheeks stained with tear streaks. 

Satoru walked up to you without a word and sat down beside you, on your right. He put out his palm as if asking for something, and you stared at his face. He did not look at you; he just stared ahead. Then you looked at his empty palm and then back to his face, which was slowly starting to look a little pink. You took out your left earplug and placed it on his palm and sat there staring at nothing like he did, while you two shared earphones like last time and listened to him hum along to the melodies of the songs he kind of liked. Until the bell rang and you got back up and walked away without a word. It has been a habit since then. He'd rush to you when you'd be at your worst and silently just sit there with you. He wouldn't give you unsolicited advice or words of comfort; just his presence and your secret little tradition were enough.

After that you saw a lot more of him. Intervening when people would whisper about you in the hallways, he'd come up to you and drape his arm over your shoulder and act all familiar talking about classes and random things. You'd shrug him off and walk ahead as fast as you could. If someone wrote something mean on your desk, you'd find him cleaning it with some rubbing alcohol he told you he borrowed from the janitor. Sometimes you'd stumble upon him defending you to people he had no business or interest talking to. 

“Fuck off, alright. Why are you acting so obsessed with that freak?” Some guy would say, one of many who'd find bullying you the most entertaining way to spend their time.

“I mean, you are the one acting all obsessed with her, and yeah, I can see why.” With a sly smirk on his face, he would continue, “If I had a shitty personality on top of being a loser, I'd also stoop that low to get a pretty girl's attention. But not that I have to worry about that.” Satoru’s comments would easily get to people; they'd prick them in the worst way possible. 

He got into brawls, arguments, and fights with others over you. Which always made you feel burdened. After being so unfamiliar with such kindness, you'd try to pull away from him. If he got into any fights, he'd find a box of Band-Aids and his favorite candies by the concrete slab at the rooftop. Those would be the only traces of you he'd find for the next few days. It’d feel like he was being punished for misbehaving, which did make him try and control his tongue and fists. 

“Oi, Suguru. You listen to a lot of emo shit, right?” Satoru said with his arms folded and perched on the window stool, looking out towards the front gate. 

“It's not fucking emo—whatever. Yeah, why?” Suguru rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair and looked at Satoru's back. 

“You know this song?” Satoru hummed the melody along with broken lyrics he barely picked up from one of the songs from the album you always listened to on repeat. It was his favorite track off the album. He always wanted to ask you about it, but then again, he always gets too busy staring at your face when you two are together. 

Suguru wanted to ask him where he heard that song, because it was not a song Satoru would typically listen to with his usual Madonna and Britney Spears on rotation. But Suguru didn't press Satoru for answers; he just told him the name of the song and the artist.

Later that night Satoru looked up the song, the album it's on, and the artist. He thought to himself how fitting the name of the album was for you, and then he went through their entire discography and tried to gather all the information he could on them, like how girls his age usually research their crush’s favorite sports team and gather information to make conversation with them. If someone asks, that was the peak of his high school experience. 

The next day, Satoru was more excited to go to school than usual. He knew the name of your favorite album and the artist! And he wanted to talk to you about it. He finally had something to say to you, other than the word ‘pretty’ constantly running laps in his mind, teetering to slip from his tongue every time he was near you. He went up to the rooftop before assembly, hoping you were there; you weren't. He tried between classes to maybe catch you by the shed or at the rooftop since he couldn't see your seat from his reassigned seat then. You weren't in either of those places. You didn't even go up to the rooftop during recess. Nor did you go there after the last period. When he asked around, he heard from your homeroom teacher that you were absent. 

You were also absent the next day, and the day after, and for the entire week. You never showed up to school after that. After two weeks, he heard from the same teacher that you transferred. You had left without even a proper goodbye.

And he would be lying if he said he was not angry about it. He would certainly be lying if he said the thought of how he did not even matter enough to you that you did not even bid him goodbye did not cross his mind. But when his overheightened teenage emotions calmed down, he felt upset, not just about the fact that you had disappeared without a trace, but also about how invalid his anger was. Because he knows the only reason you left was probably because of how hard it was for you to even exist around those people at school. 

But with some wise and not very subtle questions, he found out from his grandmother that your family moved cities for your sake. And he only wished that you found some peace there, with hopes of one day meeting you under better circumstances. 

Even though you were not even in his near vicinity anymore, he could not forget you. He accepted random confessions from girls at school and got dumped basically immediately after because anyone could tell he was invested elsewhere. So eventually he gave up and gave in to the feelings you evoked within him. And to satiate his undying fretting and anxiousness over your well-being, he frequently asked his grandmother about you. He would lead with not-so-subtle questions, and knowing her grandson, his grandmother would cough up about you after teasing him a little.

But he never really got any good news; it was always that you moved, and one way or another the rumors and the bullying followed you. It wasn't until he graduated high school; that's when he heard how you moved abroad. And for once he had let out a sigh of relief that you were not about to be haunted by those rumors or unkindness, or at least he hoped so. 

Over the years, Satoru tried to get in touch with you. He tried looking for you on social media, if you had anyone you were on decent terms with who had some way to reach out to you, though to no one’s surprise there was no one like that. He even tried to coerce his grandmother into somehow getting your number, to which she told him, “Do not force fate, Satoru. Let it do its job.” 

Which he found stupid. 

Then, your grandmother died. He had never been to your house before, and to think it was happening on such a morbid occasion made his chest hurt. But he also could feel the same giddiness in his stomach he felt all those years ago sharing the same earphone with you. And he felt terrible for it; your grandmother had just died, and all he could think about was your face, how you looked after all these years, and how you were doing, this budding hope in his heart that perhaps you are doing better. 

Sadly, he did not find out all that. Because you could not make it on time for her wake or the funeral. 

After that, all he could think about was what his grandmother had told him about fate. ‘Let it do its job,’ she had said. Perhaps it was fate that you and Gojo Satoru were never supposed to meet again.  

Just about when he accepted that as a fact, he was proved wrong. 

It wasn't long after he was promoted to being the CEO of his family’s company that he met you again. Being born as a Gojo, it was inevitable to have become a cog in the machine that is his family's conglomerate corporate chains of companies. One of the big three in the nation. And probably big enough to be ranked pretty high in the world. 

Without any passion, other than chasing down the love of his life and math, Satoru did not mind taking over the company. In fact that is what he always thought he was going to do! Therefore, it was a pleasant surprise, to say the least, when he found out you were now an employee of his. 

He still remembers that day quite clearly. His first day as the new CEO. 

“I hope you'll be taking your position and responsibilities seriously, Sato.” Mr. Gojo clinked his glass with Satoru’s to toast to his son's new position. 

“I know, Dad. You should get going; I can't keep the president of Gojo Corp. holed up in my office.”

Satoru’s father chuckled away at his joke like it was the funniest thing ever. While Satoru sneakily emptied his glass into the trash can beside the couch in his office. No one needs to witness lightweight Gojo on the very first day at the main office. 

“Sure, sure, Mr. CEO, but you're as busy as me now, though, probably even busier! That's why I got you promoted!” Mr. Gojo broke into another fit of laughter, and his secretary had to somehow get him out of there while he was still laughing his ass off at his own (horrible) joke. Satoru has always felt bad for his father's secretary; he has seen that man tolerate his father's bad jokes since Satoru was in kindergarten. Truly an ironclad man. 

It could be guessed where Satoru gets his sense of humor from.

“This is the—uh—operations department, sir.” Ijichi spoke, almost too tired to show Satoru the rest of the departments. 

Satoru only hummed, peering into the department through its glass doors like he did with the rest of the departments. But this section of the building particularly had something—or someone—that piqued his interest more than others. 

It was you. It was definitely you!

There was no way he could be wrong. He can see you from miles away, and he'd still know. He would know even if your face were completely different, if your name changed, if you grew an extra foot taller, and even if your voice changed. Gojo Satoru has intimate knowledge of your existence beyond your physical form; in death and in life, he would be drawn to you like bees to pollen.

That day, when he saw you after God knows how many years, you looked different. And not much different, you seemed as though you had more on your shoulders than ever. the eye bags under your eyes were worse than he remembers, your skin looked dull, and you still had quite a horde of entities trying to follow you around. 

Yet still, you were as gorgeous as ever, if not more so, than he remembered.

That day he really wanted to walk up to you like nothing and ask you if you still remembered him, if you could recognize him, and if the little time you spent with him meant anything to you. Did you also lie awake staring at your ceiling thinking about him instead of sleeping? Or maybe you have no recollection of high school altogether. 

Either way, he wanted to know you again, to be able to chat with you easily. He wanted to have access to your presence in his life, and he wanted to make it a constant. 

But to do that, he could not have gone up to you then and there. Not in the department where you work in the company of which he is the CEO. That is not going to be a solid meet-cute or a good backstory to reminisce about in the future when your kids ask him, ‘How did you and mom fall in love?’ 

For the sake of his future children, he walked away that day. 

But you working under him—maybe not very directly, but still for him—meant that he could have the pleasure of knowing about your well-being and also have access to you on his monitor through the master security access he has over all the cameras in the building. 

Some might call it creepy; Gojo Satoru calls it prep work! and self-indulgence.

The first month of taking over as a CEO was bad. Taking up a course thinking it will be easy as shit, but it turned out to be the worst class of your life, kind of bad. It was obvious the work he was going to be doing as the CEO was going to be more intense than being a department head at one of Gojo Corp’s tech companies. But he did not know most of the work was just calibrating. He really expected it was going to be just signing documents, and even that part was ridiculously labor intensive. 

So imagine how tripped out he was about finding an oasis of hope in his so far predictable and straining life. The Oasis that is you, meeting you again. 

He always told himself that if he ever met you again, he'd know, "This is it." 

If he didn't, then he'd be just too busy pining and yearning over you hopelessly to find someone; maybe he would've had the whole cliche. A nepo baby CEO marries a rich heiress for family and business, and they live in a loveless marriage until someone cheats and one of them gets into an accident! Plot twist: the wife is pregnant! And-

Alright, that's enough. Satoru should lay off his grandmother's daily soap opera. 

Anyway, the point of the matter is, he needs to seize this opportunity! He is not throwing away this shot! (of course he likes Hamilton)

So, after many failed attempts at approaching you, trying to introduce himself at the break room only to be swarmed by the employees. Following you to the terrace, only to be dragged away by the smokers on a smoke break (he has never smoked in his life, only gotten high by secondhand smoke while hanging out with Suguru and Shoko). 

Then that other time he had Ijichi try to summon you to his office, and that happened to be the day you took an off day. The timings just were not aligning; it was one thing after another. As if the universe itself was trying to keep you two away, as if you two met, there would be a cosmic collision, which would lead to the creation of two black holes, which might eventually merge and create one large enough black hole to destroy the entire fabric of the universe!

Or so Gojo Satoru and his dramatics may have interpreted the entire thing. 

Hence, he had to adapt. After all, as the new big boss of his company, he has got to be flexible! It had to be a new plan in motion!

“PLEASEEE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!”

“No, Sato.” Satoru’s grandmother firmly stated, after furrowing her eyebrows and going back to solving her crossword, ignoring her grandson's absurd request.

“But—” Satoru started again in a pleading voice. 

“If I am saying ‘No,’ it means no, Satoru; you're a grown man now, you should know that much.” 

“BUT YOU’RE NOT EVEN HEARING ME OUT!” 

“There is nothing to hear; what you're asking for is way too dangerous, and also nothing like a love spell even exists.” She stated in an unamused voice as her grandson kept staring up at her from where he sat on the floor of her room, by her feet, looking like a kicked puppy. But upon processing his grandmother’s words more carefully, a metaphorical and comical light bulb lit up above his head.

“If it does not exist, then how do you know it's dangerous?” 

Satoru questioned his grandma after picking up the discrepancies in her answers, and he was right to do so. Her face quickly flashed from slight panic to her usual cool demeanor, but it was enough for Satoru to know she was lying to him.

“I KNEW IT! IT EXISTS!” 

She sighs defeatedly, as if she ever stood a chance against her grandson, ever. Seeing his grandmother look so defeated, Satoru scrambled to find the last words to fully sell this idea he was pitching to his grandma.

“I mean—I am not even really asking for a ‘love potion.’ I am asking for more of a…visibility potion?” Satoru finishes with a "Why?" He was not sure either. 

“Whatever is that?” His grandma squints, and doubts about this plan start seeping into her again.

“Like, you know, I would be more visible to her!” He tries to explain, seeing how he is starting to lose her again.

“You are not invisible to begin with, Sato. I cannot understand why you don't just try to go up to her and strike up a conversation! She was your dear friend at multiple stages of your life, and now she is your employee!” 

“Exactly! She is now my employee. I just took over as the CEO; I don't want to be charged with harassment in case she thinks I am just being a creep trying to hit on her, on top of being heartbroken after she does not recognize me. Which I am sure she will not.” He sighs, and his shoulders shrug with the enthusiasm in his voice.

“You do know that you're the sole heir to everything we own with incredible lawyers?” His grandmother raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but that doesn't make it ok!” He tries to explain to his grandmother how easy it is to lose your position once you are found having an inappropriate workplace relationship.

"Well, I do not see any harm in trying to court the woman you love, but I do see harm in using a 'love potion'—or not—whatever it is that you are trying to make to slip yourself into her zeitgeist." 

With that, Satoru knew he just lost this conversation, and so did his grandmother because, without any more words, she got up from where she sat, patted him on his shoulder, and walked away.

Now why are we talking about his sob-story-worthy failure of a romance epic? Because that one needs the context before understanding why Gojo Satoru did all the stupid things he did next. In the name of love, of course. 

So, exactly how did Gojo Satoru make fissions of his own soul? 

Nothing remarkable enough. But when you go behind your wise old godmother’s back and fuck around in her basement trying to find ingredients for a potion that will supposedly make you more visible to your crush—an overglorified love potion, really—you end up almost killing yourself with your amateur-level mastery of your generational shaman powers. Well, it was only natural to be in such a precarious situation. 

It is only natural to be in such a precarious situation when Gojo Satoru, like the fool he is, underestimated his own powers and mindlessly looked for ancient books for the right answer he was exactly searching for, and then when he found them, he proceeded to ignore the proper instructions, messing up the whole potion, which contained the centuries-old powerful incubus demon’s life essence that he stole from his grandmother's very classified and protected basement, somehow. 

You see, when the instructions ask you to give the thing the exact time it says, and you think, "Oh hell," and pour more than the necessary ingredients trying to speed up the process, you inevitably fuck up. Like how people try to cook something at a higher temperature for a shorter time in the oven in hopes it cooks faster, the result of which turns out to be something somehow half-cooked and fully burnt, things turned out to be exactly like that for Gojo Satoru. 

Then he drank that entire thing with the same haphazard speed he made the potion.

Now the effects didn't show up right away, or at all, or that's what he thought. Because when he eventually passed out in his bed, a fission of his soul slipped out of his unconscious body looking for nothing and no one but you.

So what's been happy about Gojo Satoru while a part of him slips out of him every time he is overtaken by his desires for you? As that part slips out of him he falls unconscious or becomes severely fatigued to the point of not being able to do much more than sluggishly move around. This depends on the proximity; the further he is from himself, the harder it is for him to function. And day by day it's been getting worse. Because at the end of the day it's a demon’s blood that he has managed to fuse with a part of his soul.

It had been an entire day since you last saw Toru. an entire day since you saw the man, or better, your new boss, with the exact copy-paste of the demon's face. You waited the entire day for the entity to show up; you waited the entire night, as you eventually passed out on your couch at 4 am waiting for the demon. But he never showed up, very unlike his otherwise punctual appearances. 

The next day when you showed up at the office, you did see the exact face you wanted to see most desperately. Just in a dorm you were unfamiliar with. 

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, sir.” 

As the elevator doors opened up, it was the exact face you wanted to see. Just not in the form you expected him to be. You wanted the loveable demon who has, in such a short amount of time, taken up space in your entire life, not the boss you are currently awkwardly sharing an elevator with and trying not to breathe loudly or at all.  

“So. How is work going?” Gojo tries to ask you, trying to sound firm and assured in his position and power over you, but it did not sound anything like what he wanted it to. Yet your oblivious, utterly confused, and horrified self was too preoccupied to note any of that. 

“Very well, sir, you can count on our department for not wasting company resources and time.” You curtly response.

“Good, but—uh—I mean, i wanted to know how are—”

Before Satoru could even fully finish his sentence, and before the elevator doors could finally close, a horde of people rushed into the elevator. While basically everyone greeted a good morning, trying to not get on the boss’s bad side, and then stayed silent as the elevator got more and more crowded, you kept getting pushed back until your back collided with something hard, but not hard enough to be the wall. So you turned around to check what it was, and it was your boss right behind you, standing with his chest pressed against your back. The feeling of his body felt so familiar; in fact, it was the same as the demon who seamlessly infiltrated your life. From his facial features to his voice down to the warmth of his body, it was exactly the same as the entity you have come to know and care for as Toru. 

Your head started to flood with suspicions trying to analyze the relationship between the two doppelgangers when you felt it. It was hard, different from the hard of the wall, different from the hard of his chest. Firstly, it was located lower than his chest, in his pants to be particular. Secondly, you did not even dare to guess it was his assets. Because how is he exactly as obscenely and audaciously big as the demon terrorizing your pussy? 

Satoru cleared his throat as he attempted to back away from you, but in the process of more people getting on the elevator on the next floor, you got shoved closer to him. Landing your ass to press perfectly against his now very apparent cock. 

You blame the demon and this demon-looking new boss of yours because now you are standing in a crowded elevator against your new boss, who is definitely rock hard, while your panties are absolutely ruined. Now who exactly is to blame for that? Is it because the demon has somehow rewired your body in these past few weeks, or is it simply the citrus vanilla fragrance coming off of your boss as well as his rock-hard cock? 

But one thing was sure: if this elevator does not stop right this instance, it is going to be too awkward for you to ever face your boss, as your body might start involuntarily grinding against him, the aftermath of which you have no intention of finding out. Because you will be getting either fired or fired. 

“Ms. L/n, can—ah—can you, um, shift to my right a bit?” Satoru's panting voice speaks in a whisper from behind you, making you almost gasp. 

You try to process his words as fast as you can, which is about ten agonizingly painful seconds too late for Satoru. So he took things in his own hands, quite literally. His left hand came to your waist with a firm grip to move you slightly to the right, enough to be off his almost throbbing cock. 

But unfortunately for him and you, the friction of the movements just made things worse. Your free hand that was not clutching the strap of your bag for dear life pressed itself on your lips in an attempt to hold back the little moan that dared to slip. But Satoru was already too worn out to hold back the throaty moan that left his mouth as his head threw itself back. 

Call Gojo Satoru. God's favorite court jester, because while he was living one of the most embarrassing moments of his life, somehow the elevator's ding saved his ass from being the official company creep. If not, there would probably be rumors of him calling female employees to his office to offer them their lifetimes' most undeniable opportunities. 

Almost everyone in the elevator got off on that floor, bowing quickly to Gojo. You remained still in front of him, like a barrier between him and the ruins of his image. As soon as everyone got off, both of you scurried to the opposite sides of the elevator. You tried to pat your cheeks to calm down, while he faced the elevator's mirror walls to readjust himself. 

Not really helpful. What was helpful was thinking about Suguru eating up his ears talking about one of his new research papers about some new ethical dilemma. It was as always extremely and immediately effective. 

“This—uh—never happens; you don't know how ashamed I am. I am so, so incredibly sorry. I have been on new sleeping aids, and they have been messing with me for a bit now. I am so sorry. I would absolutely understand if you want to file a complaint and—”

“It's, uh, alright, sir. I get it; new meds can really affect you in ways you can't even understand. I recommend you talk to your doctor.” You give him a tight smile, unable to look him in the eye. What else were you to say? When he was apparently suffering the side effects of new meds and you just ruined your panties when the day just started. 

“Yes! Yes, absolutely!” He chuckled awkwardly, knowing he just lied through his teeth. Gojo Satoru was on no sleep aids; if he was having problems with sleep, all he needed was to cook up fantasies in his head and sleep soundly with a huge grin on his face, hoping to continue those blissfully domestic and romantic scenarios later in his dreams. 

Before the awkward silence between you two could settle down, the doors to the elevator opened as your floor arrived with a ding. You rushed out with a quick goodbye as fast as you could in return. Satoru bid you goodbye while panicking to himself that now and forever you might be thinking of him as some perverse predator. He was hoping for this to be a nightmare. 

As you ran out of the elevator, you rushed to the nearest washroom and locked yourself in a cubicle. 

Your back slid down the cubicle door while you buried your face in your hands. Hoping that it would somehow cool down your face while simultaneously muffling your whisper screams. And all you could think of was your boss, his cock, and how perhaps he is just the demon who has been fucking you for the last few weeks. I mean, you have never seen them in the same room together. Perhaps this is a big gotcha, and perhaps you are just some gullible dumbass misguided by this one little shit. 

“Hey hey!”

The familiar voice spoke out as the entity floated down to sit on the toilet, peering at you with a sly grin, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking about. He was wearing the same suit you saw your boss wearing this morning. It was definitely the same suit; you'd know since you saw it so closely. 

“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?” Your voice could not help but come out as loud as it could. 

“Woah, angel, calm downnn; don't want someone to think you're talking to yourself in the bathroom.” His grin widened as he saw a scowl form over your features. 

“Where have you been?” You ask more calmly, almost gritting your teeth.

“Aw, missed me that bad?” 

When you didn't answer his joking quips, he looked at you with a bit more seriousness, but his grin did not flatter. 

“I just did not have any reason to be around.” He answered genuinely.

“You require a reason to see me?” He nodded once, like he did not want to give away anything more. 

“What are these reasons usually?” 

“Hmm, just, you know, the need to see you, or I will perish.” 

His wording did not have an ounce of seriousness, but the way he said it, his tone reflected the genuineness behind those words, and you couldn't help but feel that he meant everything that he said. 

“I have never lied to you, angel; I am not really capable of that.” His head tilted as his obsidian claws traced your jawline like you were a delicate porcelain doll.

“If I asked you something, would you answer truthfully?” He shrugged his shoulders, and you took it as a green light.

“Do you know Gojo Satoru—or are you Gojo Satoru?” 

“Shouldn’t he be the one to tell you that?”

And poof. He was gone again with that sly grin that made your skin crawl and heart beat. But thinking about what he said, it was obvious the demon, you know, and your boss were related to one another. In fact, it would not be a stretch to even say that they might be the same person. 

You gathered yourself, and with determination, you walked back towards the elevator doors. 

Gojo Satoru was on the verge of tears, and his soul was leaving his body.

He was ready to never see you again in his life after having the pleasure of having you somewhat back in his orbit. And after failing in all his attempts to execute his flawless plan—which was to reintroduce himself to you, pouring out nostalgic memories to invite you for some coffee, then gradually meeting you by the vending machines every day, getting your number, then becoming friends and finally everything more he always dreamed of—he was now awaiting your two weeks' notice for your registration. 

Gojo was ready for Ijichi to walk in and make him sit in another boring meeting where all he will be able to think about is how you might just hate him now. 

His office doors slammed open, making him wonder who might have the audacity to do that because Ijichi knows better, and even Suguru would have Shoko inform him or Ijichi before coming in. His father just starts yelling for him down the hall, and his mother and grandma never visit, so who could it be? 

“I have something urgent I need to discuss with you, sir.” 

The voice that haunts Gojo Satoru while he's dreaming and even when he is awake spoke from behind him, making him turn in his chair as quickly as he could. With bulging surprised eyes, he tried to stand up from his chair when you took steadfast steps to move around the table and stood right before him. 

“Uh, yes, how can I help you, Ms. L/n? If it's about what happened, I—” Before Satoru could finish his rambling, you kneeled down on the floor, right in front of him.

With your face about twelve inches away from his crotch and your skirt riding up your thighs, you kept maintaining constant eye contact with him, while he basically froze in place, half dumbfounded and the other half convinced he had died as he ascended to heaven.

“Wait—WAIT ONE SECOND, Y/N, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” 

When he came back to himself, he was half hard, holding you by both of your wrists, stopping you from getting any closer to him or his crotch, for his own sanity really. 

“So you know me?” You asked with your eyebrows furrowed and suspicions becoming more and more clear, “Are you and he the same person?” 

“What are you talking about?” His own face morphed with a mirroring confusion. 

“Alright, then tell me, how you know me first.” 

Satoru went completely silent, frozen even; it took him at least a few minutes to let out a defeated sigh before succumbing to your questions. “I've known you my entire life, really.” 

It was your turn to be dumbfounded. The way your head tilted with confusion almost made him lose it all and lean down to kiss you. But he did not; he accepted his situation, his cumbersome situation, where you are still basically one move away from meeting his crotch face first.

He started explaining himself to his best abilities, from the grandmas to high school, everything he could explain to not make himself look like a stalker creep—considering everything he has done so far, he is still one. 

“Satoru? You're that Satoru?” He simply nodded, unsure of what to make of that question. The heavy air in the office felt lighter, yet not quite. It was a reunion, an odd one really. 

But once you knew this was the same Satru who once had your back and also your heart, you could not help but feel this warm rush of fuzzy feeling engulfing you. This was the same boy you once begged your grandmother to take you with her to his house to play with him, the same boy who stood up for you in high school, who listened to the same album over and over with you every day on the rooftop. And now you are somehow sitting mere inches away from his crotch. Destiny or something.

“Aw, what a cute reunion!” 

The voice that spoke up came from both of your sides; for a second you thought Satoru said it, but in no moment realized it has to be the root of this whole wild scenario happening right now. 

“Wha—WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?” Satoru, half scared and half surprised, shouted as he stood up from his chair, dragged you up on your two feet, and stood between you and the demon lying on its front on his table with a huge grin on his face, like he had seen the most amusing thing ever.

“Oh, I'm you!” 

“NO!? NO, YOU'RE NOT!” Satoru, still in fear and confusion, shouted at the demon once again.

“Yeah, maybe you're right. I don't think I'm this chicken shit.” 

The demon gracefully floated in the air and sat down on the table with his legs hanging from the edge. He looked at Satoru with challenging eyes, which effectively provoked Satoru to step forward and grab the demon by his collar of the same shirt he was currently wearing.

“Wait! Both of you!” You stepped in between them and stood there like a wall separating the two doppelgangers. The demon hopped down from the table and came to stand close to you with his head on your shoulder, not really asserting anything to Satoru but simply trying to get a reaction out of him.

“You need to stop, Toru.” 

“Noooo.” “No!” Both the Satorus spoke up in unison. And you sighed, gauging how hard things are going to be. 

“She calls me that.” The demon said, trying to make a point. 

“She called me that first.” And your boss countered that with his smug reply.

“Both of you, shut up! I need an explanation!” You pushed them both away from each other by their chest and demanded. 

“Well, I have one, unlike this useless guy over here.” The demon replied while taking your hand in his as his claws started retracting back into his fingers.

“Who are you calling useless, Satan’s shit stain?” Human Satoru tilted his head and pulled you into his body with the arm you were using to hold him back. The demon finally looked somewhat to be losing his composure, stepping forward and unsheathing his claws once again. 

“Wait, stop this. You don't say anything until he is done explaining.” You pointed at both of them like they were two kindergarten children fighting over a toy.

Surprisingly enough, they both agreed to it with one word and did not make further attempts to provoke each other. Once they were at a distance, you looked at the demon expectantly. 

“First thing's first, yes, I'm him. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but that's because I'm the part of him that manifested because he fucked up while making a potion for which he used an over a century old asshole incubus’ blood. So I'm kinda evil.” 

You just looked back and forth between them; Satoru looked embarrassed, while demon Gojo looked pleased with himself. 

“What does that mean? How—like, how are we supposed to stop this?” You ask the demon while he squints his eyebrows as his smile stretches into something more conniving. 

“I don't want to.” The demon said while taking off his jacket and leaning his back on the edge of the table.

“What do you mean?” Your voice got a little louder as you asked that and tried to step forward, but Satoru softly held you back by your arm.

“Like I said, at the end of the day, I am evil. So hmm, I don't want to stop.” The demon shrugged his shoulders like he truly did not care a bit. “i don't care if he passes out on the street or dies of fatigue because of this whole thing. I mean, no one's to blame for this but him.”

“You've been passing out since this started?” You turn back towards Satoru to check the validity of that statement. Satoru looked hesitant to answer that.

“Oh, let me answer that for you, angel.” The demon's smile didn't flatter but twitched a little with mischief.

“He has been passing out if I'm too far away or just getting fatigued, not that he or his doctor knew the cause. Also, I fully plan to keep doing it; once he just dies,, I can function freely. Currently, it's just this one part of him that's fused with the demon's blood.” He finished with a motion of his hand moving up and down in his own direction.

“And after he is dead, the entire soul will be mine.” 

“You can't do that!” You did not miss a beat to protest the demon.

“Why not, angel? You know I'm better than him; this coward has been running away from his own feelings for decades. I have never failed to take care of you even one day.” He walked closer to you while Satoru's arm possessively wrapped itself around your waist.

“I am just the better option. Think about it, I can be with you every day, every minute and second of the day. I can ward off any slimly shit that comes your way. I will take care of you, love you, and of course-” 

He stopped right in front of you, and you saw a glint of red in his blue pupils, and in that instance, he looked so different from Satoru you could not even believe they were the same person.

“Fuck you like you deserve it.” He leaned down to your ears to whisper that last part.

“Fuck off. I'll find a way to get rid of you.” Satoru stepped forward to stand in front of the demon as he pushed you behind him. 

You just stood there in awe of what was unfolding right in front of you. You truly somehow believed in these last few weeks that you spent with the demon that perhaps he was different, perhaps he was just somehow stuck in this mortal realm, and you could pass the rest of your days helping him out.

“We may be the same, but he couldn't be more different.” The demon Satoru scoffed in his face

“I think I can agree with you on that one.” Satoru maintained eye contact with him with every intention of making the demon disappear.

“How come you always vanish after a bit?” You quipped up while still looking at the floor not sure who or what to look at.

“Hmm, since I'm a manifestation of his desires, fueled by his sexual fantasies, I vanish after I'm satisfied, or if he is satisfied, or if you throw salt at me.” He made a faux sad face, like there was not an ounce of seriousness in everything he has been saying.

“You've—you've been touching her?”

“Wow, you caught on sooo quick, dumbass!” The demon chuckled. “I've been doing muchhhh more if you know what I mean—”

Before the demon could finish, Satoru flung his fist in his face. Satoru then grabbed him by the collar and went for another punch when the demon caught his fist with his hand and dug his claws into his skin. Blood started pouring from his broken skin, but Satoru did not look like he had any resolve to back away; he kept pushing his arm with as much force as he could while the demon defended himself with a smile on his face.

When you finally looked up from the floor, you panicked seeing the blood drip and pool on the floor where the scene was taking place. 

“STOP IT! LET HIM GO! I SAID LET HIM GO!” 

You ran up to them and pulled the demon's claws out of Satoru's hands. Once you interjected, he easily let go of Satoru's hand, but Satoru was concerned with keeping you away from the demon.

“Don't get closer to him!” He tugged on your hand with his unharmed one.

You turned away from the demon, not being able to look him in the eye, and grabbed Satoru's injured hand, and panic started setting in the pit of your stomach. You rushed to find a first aid box in his drawers; when you didn't, Satoru told you where it was, and you quickly grabbed it and directed him towards the couch in his office to clean it up and patched him up as quickly as you could. 

The demon quietly followed you two with the guilty face of a toddler. He did not like looking at you so hurt by his actions; you looked as if you were on the verge of tears, and he did not like being the source of it, at least not like this.

“There is a way to stop this.”

Both of you turned to look at the demon, who looked like a guilt-ridden, pouty kid. He stood by the little table in front of the couch and looked out towards the skyline from the floor-to-ceiling windows in Satoru's office. 

“And why, after all of this, are you telling us that?” Satoru inquired with suspicions after you were done bandaging his right hand.

“Because, smartass, at the end of the day, we're still one person. I may be a fission and corrupted, but I'm still part of your soul. And she clearly doesn't want to go with my plan.” Demon Gojo pointed at you with his chin.

“And every part of us just wants her happy.” 

Your entire body started heating up from the honest confession. Both the Satorus silently agreed with the statement, and you just squirmed in your seat, feeling the heavy atmosphere settling in the room. Not being able to handle the heavy air, you asked the important question.

“So, how… um, what's the solution?”

“He has the fuck you. Now.” 

“WHAT!?” Both of you shouted from the couch at the audacious demand.

“What? I mean, I've been fucking you these days, like every dayyy; it's not that different.” The demon just shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

Satoru was ready to get up and throw some more punches at the demon as they both started to argue once again. You remained seated on the couch contemplating your options. 

“What!? It makes sense! You're the original guy; if your desires are satiated, then I'll also be satiated. And if you're satisfied, then there's no reason for me to be around.”

The demon's solution did not sound that off, after all, the only reason you were alright with being with him in these past few weeks is because you imagined the demon took the form of your ideal man or something along those lines to seem desirable to you. That's what they do, or so you thought. 

It wouldn't be too hard to just do that. After all, Gojo Satoru has always been extremely attractive; he was the cutest kid on the playground as a kid and the coolest guy in the entire school back in high school, and he is not the hottest boss you or anyone at this company has ever had.

“Alright.” 

“Really!?” The demon excitedly glided over to you, completely ignoring the dumbfounded Satoru.

“Are you sure? Because it's not about me; it's about if you're actually a hundred percent sure or not.” 

Satoru somehow fumbled out those words. And you only nodded yes as an answer. He looked into your eyes and only found determination in them.

“I'm absolutely sure. You've always been there for me… I want to do this for you.” 

His entire face started flushing from those words and from the realization of the situation. “You know I don't want you to do this just because you're grateful or something because I did what any decent person should have done back then. I just—”

“It's not that.” You interrupted his flustered rambling.

“I want you safe. And I want you.” 

You two stared at each other like you two didn't quite understand the gravity of those words. But that was not the case. He knew better, and so did you. Otherwise you wouldn't have said it at all.

“Alrighty! Shall we get started?” The demon clasped his hands with enthusiasm, and with flick of finger Satoru was back on the couch beside you. While you two maintained your eye contact, the demon leaned into your ears to whisper.

“Let's pick up where you left it, ok?” 

Before you knew it, you were on your knees on the carpeted floor, in between Satoru's legs, with Demon Gojo peering from the side. Like you were moments ago before all hell broke loose.

“Go on, angel. You know what to do.” 

You looked at Satoru to see him covering his mouth with his bandaged right hand. Even with his attempts, you could clearly see the flush of red covering his entire body, head to toe. 

And it did something to you, twisted something carnal in your stomach, something that made you want to see more of him, see how far over the edge you could push him. So, with a goal in mind, you opened your mouth to locate his zipper and pulled it down using your teeth. While your hands crept their way up his trembling legs and rested over his thighs. 

Your eyes moved slightly to the side as you went to free Satoru’s cock from his underwear. Demon Gojo was floating beside him and watching it; it was the inception of the universe. When Satoru's hard cock came free from his underwear, you found yourself in awe. You knew he had nothing to compensate for given the incident in the elevator; it made you wonder how much of the sleep aid stuff was true or some blatant lie. 

It looked so pretty. Usually those are not words you use to describe a penis, but that's all you could think of. With your mouth agape in awe of its sizable proportions and the intricate yet precise placement of veins, with the perfect shades of pink and red, as if it were a work of art—there were truly no other words to describe it.

“Go on, angel. I'm not, and neither is he.”

“Don't listen to him. “Ta- Take your time, sweets.”

You looked Satoru in his eyes as his right hand came to touch your cheek, trying to comfort you, and felt eased enough to continue. It was so interesting how different his eyes looked depending on which version you looked at.

“I'm not uh- good or- I've never done this.” 

You confessed to him feeling a sense of comfort in his touch. And he just smiled knowingly as if there was no pressure. 

“You don't have to if you don't want to.”

“I want to.”

He looked a little taken aback by your honesty. Then he nodded with a soft, reassuring smile, with his hand still on your face. The contrast between the roughness of the bandages and his soft fingers gave you goosebumps. 

“fuccccck.” Satoru moaned as you brought your tongue to lick over his leaking head.

His precum didn't even taste like anything; in fact, there was a hint of sweetness there that made you wonder if it was really there or if you were hallucinating things. But you continued to lick small locks over the head of his flushed cock, hoping for more. More of his taste and more sounds out of him. 

“S-shit.” 

“Holy shit.” The demon mumbled as if he was also under a trance of the scene in front of him.

You moved to lick a stroke from the base of his cock to the head. One of your hands moved to stroke whatever you could not cover as you went to suck on his cock. His free hand lightly gripped your hair, while the right one remained on your cheek, covered by your hair that fell over your face, covering the demon's view. So the demon used one long claw to move your hair, to get a better view simply.

“You're—so—so just—ugh—warm.” 

“Wait till you're inside.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Satoru refocused on you trying your best to take all of him in your mouth. 

The head of his cock was touching your throat. It was not perfect, far from it; there were some teeth. Despite your best efforts, you looked visibly exhausted just from trying to fit him in your mouth, yet your determination was unwavering. You tried your best to use your tongue to your advantage, but it was still lacking.

Yet this was the most pleasure Satoru had felt in his entire life. 

“Fuck, sweets. You're so good to me. I'm—I’ll—” Satoru's finger around your hair tightened, you felt him twitching in your mouth, and the taste of him that you ventured out to find more of started to overwhelm all of your senses. 

His head threw itself back as ropes of his cum started to pour down your throat. Your hand on his cock started pumping him faster; the other one dug into the fabric of his pants. Your eyes squeezed shut as small droplets of tears started spilling out similarly as your saliva and his cum started to drool out of the corners of your lips.

His hands separated you from his cock, and when he did, he could see his cum pool in your mouth. With heavy breaths, he put forward his left hand, silently asking you to spit out everything that was in your mouth. But you had other plans as you swallowed everything without hesitation, slightly choking in the process, and then licked the palm of his hand that was in front of you. As you nuzzled your face in his hand while looking up at him, the demon by his side, with one flick of his finger, transported you onto Satoru's lap.

“Ok, prep her quickly before we both lose our minds.” The demon said urgently while taking off your clothes from behind while you and Satoru stayed staring at each other. But perceptive to his demon counterpart’s words, Satoru still nodded along to his words.

As soon as you found yourself naked, not even a single underwear on you, you snapped out of the trance. A sense of self-consciousness started to settle within you despite the absurdity of the situation. This was still the first actual man you were going to be with, technically have been with. 

Satoru noticed the tremble in your hands as they came to rest on his shoulder. You moved your head to the side and almost refused to look at him, so he used his right hand to hold your face straight by your chin.

“You're safe with me. I promise. Do you want to stop?” 

In moments such as this, the demon didn't even protest; like he said earlier, all that mattered to every version of him was your happiness. 

You still nodded a no to his question, even though the anxiety in your eyes did not disappear. So Satoru did what he thought would help the best, and with hesitant movements, he placed his lips on yours. 

It was everything and more that he had hoped for. It was fireworks on a summer night full of gentle breeze and the smell of a field full of wild flowers. 

His lips tasted sweet; similarly to his demon counterpart, everything was so similar, yet more. It felt more real, more visceral; it didn't make you wish to reach for more. Instead it made you want to stay where you were forever, for infinite realities and beyond; you wanted to fall exactly where you were. To have your lips on his and tongue tangled with his. 

When you parted from him, you didn't because you wanted to or needed to because of a lack of air. But because the demon behind you pulled your hair back by your neck, and then you were kissing the other version of Gojo that you have become so accustomed to. Who felt so much like him but not completely. He bit and pulled on your lips to open your mouth and slid his slithering tongue in your mouth. 

While demon Gojo kissed you, human Gojo’s cock became hard in the nick of time. Something about seeing himself kiss you, yeah, did some crazy stuff to his head. 

What was crazier was as his cock got harder, it pressed against your pussy, which was already leaking and coating him in your juices. 

“Fuck. Sweets, you're so wet, it's like she's hungry for me.” 

“N-need y-you, Satoru.” Your words came out choppy as the demon continued to ravish your lips. 

“Pretty little cunt, wants me so bad, huh?” The demon mumbled against your lips.

Satoru dragged his cock against your wet cunt, and the sheer contact had him biting down on his lips to prevent himself from just slipping inside you. Slow movements became more rigorous, and at that point you two were basically dry humping, as you matched his pace while Demon Gojo kept your mouth occupied. Satoru’s left hand held you right by your waist, preventing you from accidentally losing balance. Dry humping would not be the correct term, as there was nothing dry left down there. 

Given the situation with Satoru’s hand, the demon decided it was best to take a few matters into his own hands. literally.

His left hand slipped around your waist down your stomach and abdomen, where he retracted his claws, and moved it down over to your pussy. Where his fingers found your clit, and you could not help but moan from the pleasure of having Satoru's cock pressed against you and having another version of him using his finger on you. Satoru pulled your head off the demon's mouth and took your lips for himself. 

"You're practically drenched, angel. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were dreaming of this moment.” The demon whispered over your ear as he kissed, sucked, and bit to leave marks all over you. 

While Satoru kissed you feverishly this time. While the demon kept using his finger to draw figures of eight and patterns over your clit, which made you groan into Satoru's mouth. As Satoru's lips move down your chin to kiss your jaw and leave marks similarly to his counterpart, one familiar digit slips inside you.

“Fuuu-fuck. I—”

“Yeah? Do you want more, angel?” 

You nodded yes to his question. And the demon motioned to Satoru with his head. “You heard her.” Without another word, Satoru slipped his finger inside. 

“OH—”

“You like that, sweets?” You nodded vigorously yes.

“So needed, aren’t you? You just want all of me, every single version. You just cannot live without making me go insane over you, huh?” 

Satoru's words dug into your skin, like his finger curved to dig up into your wall, while the demon's finger curved down. Once Satoru felt as though your groans were dying down, that you were getting used to it, he slipped another finger inside, making you moan out with a screeching voice, while the demon chuckled with amusement. Satoru's eyes stayed locked over your features as he fingered you closer to your first release. It was that he wanted to memorize and engrave every single detail about you in his memories.

“I'm g-gonna I'll ugh.” 

“Go on, cum for me, sweets, cum all over me. It'll be my pleasure.” 

With his sweet words, you found your sweet release. It was not another ordinary orgasm; you squirted all over Satoru's lap, all over his cock. You held him tight by his neck while you twitched from the aftershocks; the demon took his fingers out to lick them clean, while Satoru's fingers remained on your clit, working you through your orgasm, and his injured hand rubbed comforting circles over your back. Once you calmed down, he took off his fingers.

“Won't you clean them up for me, sweets?” 

Satoru brought his fingers, which he used to finger you, to your lips; they dug into your lower lips and brushed against your teeth. You nodded yes as you took his fingers in your mouth by his wrist; there was a haze over your eyes, and it was similar to Satoru's. And it only made him want to wreck you beyond repair.

Satoru maneuvered to hold you up by your thighs as he got off the couch with you, only to then place you gently back on the couch on your back.

“Who do you want?” Satoru asked you as he pulled away his fingers from your mouth despite your resistance.

“You.” You answered without hesitation.

“Ouch, angel.” 

You both ignored the demon's joke as Satoru proceeded to kiss you down from your neck to your tits, giving each nipple equal attention with his mouth and fingers. Kissing them, swirling his tongue around them, biting and tugging on them. While he got busy with your tits, the demon kneeled on the floor and sneakily slipped his hand in between you to slip his cock inside of you.

“Fuckkkk.” Your moans started to get louder as you felt Satoru stretching your walls.

“W-why are you meddling, you pervy demon?” 

“Quit acting like you're not a perv yourself. Don’t forget we are the same.” The demon stuck his tongue out at Satoru and pushed his hips down to make his cock fully slip inside you. 

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” 

You threw your head back and screamed, almost choking on air from the sheer size of Satoru’s cock, like you did every time the demon version of him got inside you.

“We'll hurt her, dumbass!” Satoru smacked the demon in the back of his head, while the demon pouted and moved over to your face.

“Sorry, angel, did we hurt you? 

When you shook your head to say no, the demon smiled and kissed you softly, comforting you while Satoru started to gingerly move. 

“What a good girl, made to take me, hmm?” 

The demon gave you a few quick pecks before Satoru's hips started to slam down. With each thrust your moans started to get louder and louder. Every time he dragged his cock out, you could feel each vein running down his dick on your walls. Your entire body started to jerk upwards each time he pushed his cock back in. 

“Uh-uh, no more running away from me. You’ve done enough of that.” 

Satoru pulled both your legs over his shoulder, and his right hand pressed on your abdomen. His thrusts started to become deeper and deeper; with each thrust, he could feel himself through your abdomen, which only made him go harder.

“I’m about to—fuck, fuck—more!”

“More?”

“YES!”

“You heard her, dumbass,” the demon chimed in.

When you threw your head back as Satoru's movements got deeper and harder until he basically started to kiss your cervix. And you came undone all over him. As your cunt started to spasm through the orgasm, Satoru leaned down to readjust himself and started going harder than before, if it was even possible in a mean mating press. 

“Shit, I'm go-gonma marry you. I'll be with you in every life time, I don't ca-care, I don't fucking care, until there's nothing left of our souls.” 

“Ye-yes, please.”

“Yeah? Fuck. Ho-w am I supposed to live without you?” 

You wondered that too.

Then you moved your head over to the side and saw the demon sitting by your head with his cock out in his hand. Pumping it to the same rhythm as when Satoru fucked you, his shirt was pulled up by his teeth and his eyes were focused on you. You extended your free hand, which wasn't digging into Satoru's biceps, to help demon Gojo with his cock. In response he shut his eyes and wrapped one of his hands over yours and also wrapped his tail around your wrist as you tried your best to help him get off. 

Satoru tucked his head in the crook of your neck as his thrusts started getting deeper and he lost the rhythm, and he just started chasing his high. Just as you pulled on Satoru’s hair and squeezed demon Gojo’s cock, you felt them both twitch aggressively. Their bodies trembled as one came inside you, while the other came all over your hands. 

All of you gathered your breath, and the room filled with nothing but rapid heartbeats and heavy breathing, with the smell of sex and sweat. Satoru peppered kisses all over your neck, while the demon leaned down to look at you with a sweet smile, or so you made out with your hazy eyes. He leaned further down and pressed a long kiss over your lips. 

“Goodbye, angel.”

“Hope you know I'll be taking away your Benz as a punishment for messing around in my basement despite my warnings.”

“Yes, Grandma.” 

Satoru’s head hung low beside you, with a visible pout on his face. His grandmother sighed after she was done nagging him and looked over at you with a smile. 

Everything was so wild; you really appreciated these small moments. 

Things were peaceful for the last few days. Since you and Satoru got rid of his soul's fission, you two have been spending a lot of time together. In between this time you've resolved all the misunderstandings between you two, filling each other up with information about one another about what happened in the years when you didn't see each other. 

There was no official talk about what happened or what should happen next; being around each other only started because you wanted to make sure he was safe and he wanted to make sure you were safe. So naturally you found yourselves in each other's company. Also, you both wanted to be sure about everything before you spoke with his grandmother.

And in these moments you found yourselves looking back at each other, thankful that neither of you acted upon it, as neither of you were sure what might have happened if you did. But the fact no demon slipped out while he was very visibly holding back reassured you that part of him found itself back within Satoru.

Sometimes you'd think you miss the version of him, but then you'd see glimpses of him in Satoru when he'd come over to your place and clean up your place without a word. When he'd cook for you, and sometimes when you two would fall asleep together while watching a movie and later wake up in bed cuddling him. You'd see glimpses of that same pervert when you'd open the door for him in some skimpy tank top (intentionally), or when he'd accidentally brush his hand against your thighs while giving you a ride home.

But at the end of the day, it was all part of Gojo Satoru. And somehow the entirety of him is way more fascinating than a part of him.

“Hope you're alright now, dear?” 

“Ah yes, please don't worry, Madame Gojo.”

“Oh please, Grandma is fine!” She chuckled with a knowing look as if she knew something you did not. 

“I wanted to ask, what about the demon blood? Apparently it was fused to that part of his soul; that's what the demon said.” You inquired.

“Well, if it's fused, we can't reverse it. Or at least there's no known method.”

You turned to look at Satoru worriedly, and seeing the fear in your eyes, he moved his hand over yours on your lap and squeezed it with reassurance. 

“But no worries. His soul is much stronger than it seems; what happened was because he is a lovesick puppy. Well now, since he has you…” 

His grandmother sheepishly smiled, looking between you two, and you felt the back of your neck getting hot with embarrassment. 

“Grandma!”

“What!? Don't tell me you haven't asked her out yet!”

“Grandm—” “No, he hasn't.”

Your interruption made both of them look at you with wide eyes. Satoru's grandmother quickly got up and smacked him in the back of his head before quickly walking out of the room.

“So… uh… it's because I didn't know—”

“I've been cuddling you to sleep after you fucked me senseless in your office; what more of a clue do you need?”

“I thought—it's because we found out cuddling keeps entities away from you for some while…” You looked at him unassumingly.

“Your face tells me you didn't care about that.”

“You guessed correctly.”

You placed your other hand over his hand, which was already holding your hand. 

“Are you going to ask me out, or should I?”

“No, no! I will; that's the least you deserve after everything I put you through.” 

You smiled at him and moved to sit facing him and held both of his hands in yours. He took a deep breath and looked into your eyes as he got closer.

“Y/n. Will you go on a date with me?”

“Sure. I mean, you did propose to marry me that other time—”

“Pleaseeeee, PLEASE, let that go!” 

“Why should I?” 

You liked his chest and teased him some more until he could not take it anymore. And pulled you closer by your wrist on his lap. With one arm holding you close to him by your waist and the other holding your hand, he spoke up.

“Because I'd like to properly propose one day.” 

A gush of wind rushed into the room through the huge open windows. Even though the chill air cut through your skin, you knew the goosebumps were caused by Satoru's words rather than the wind.

“Damn, he finally stopped being a coward.” 

Satoru's voice spoke, even though he said nothing. Which only made the both of you look at each other with horrified eyes with "oh fuck" written all over your faces. You both very slowly moved your heads to where the voice came from, hoping it was some mutual hallucination rather than what you were fearing. But lo and behold, it was exactly what, or to be more precise, who you were fearing. And there he was sitting in his half-demonic glory, with his obsidian claws and sharp canines on display with his sly grin and wagging tail, like he was the happiest dog alive. 

“Hey! I'm back!” 

FIND MORE OF MY WORKS HERE

a/n: dividers by @/enchanthings-a & @/omi-resources. fanart by @/3-aem, lyrics info in image, and other one is just from Pinterest.

Your poor mother, who was sheltered from these things by her mother her entire life, had no idea how to help you acclimate to these things. Fortunately, your grandmother was still around then; she exorcised your friend without telling you, and for days you were bedridden after crying yourself sick, missing your best friend . 

Things were never the same since then; you struggled through kindergarten and elementary school, unable to make friends. And when you did, they were always creeped out by you. It was either you'd bring a friend with you to play with everyone else, who couldn't be seen by others. You'd be petting a cat, again, that no one could see. They'd find you helping a grandpa, who also was not visible to bare eyes.

Around the end of elementary school, your parents finally sat you down and explained what was wrong with you.

And eventually, before you even entered high school, you were named that one creepy kid. The high school kids were more brutal than the elementary or kindergarten kids. The bullying, the silent murmuring, rooms going silent when you'd walk in, getting weird questions like,

‘Hey, can you really see ghosts? Or are you just faking it for attention?’

Rumors were circulating that you'd curse people if they spoke to you. Which did help with not getting asked weird questions. But that meant things became more physical. Your books would be gone before class, the desk would be pushed off to the side, juice spilled on your chair—and even the teachers wouldn't help you. How would they help if they can't even look you in the eyes themselves? So you were left to your own vices, except for this one kid from the class next door to yours. Who would not stop pestering you, saying things like ‘who cares’—when you’d yell at him to stay away from you, telling him how no one would talk to him if they saw you with him. He was the only person ever to stand up for you then, when you would also refuse to stand up for yourself. Back then you found him quite annoying, but now you’d say he is the only reason why you can still think about that time without spiraling.

So your parents moved around a lot for your sake. In the few years of high school, you lived in approximately 7 different places. So when you graduated from high school, you knew you wanted to move out of the country for at least these 4 years of university. The rumors caught up with you one way or another, whether you were in a big city or some small town. So in your opinion it was the best possible solution.

So you moved away. And things were somewhat better; no one came up to you asking whether or not you were faking your powers for attention, but it did not improve your social life. You remained all by yourself throughout college, in an unknown place, miles away from your parents. But you did master how to ignore the floating entities around you. 

The more you ignore them, the more they slowly start to pester you less and less.

It was around the time just before your graduation that your grandmother died. And unfortunately, you could not go back home to see her one last time, and neither could your parents fly out to attend your graduation. 

Just like that, you graduated all alone. Like you started college all by yourself. 

After a few months, you moved back home and found yourself a job with good pay and an apartment in a nice place. Your parents moved back to your mother’s ancestral home and visited you as often as they could. But that didn't solve your loneliness. Parents can only give you so much support, but the lack of a social life can't just be mended by great parents, unfortunately. 

At work, people never became comfortable enough around you to call you a friend; you were intimidating to them. It was hard to approach you, and the cloud of gloom that floated around you may not have been visible to them, but it ran a shiver down their spine. So your colleagues kept it short and concise when interacting with you. During lunch you either ate by yourself on the rooftop or went out all alone. 

Dating was equally hard. If not harder, you tried almost everything. Meeting new people, which only ended up with creepy men trying to hit on you; online dating, which never worked out; and even meeting some people through your parents, who always brought up the rumors from your past. 

No matter what you did, you kept being haunted. 

Like right now, a lady kept peering into your room from outside of your windows with this creepy smile while you tried to ignore her as much as you could and focused on the people getting it on on your laptop screen. Fortunately, the talismans all over your apartment kept these things out. But it did not stop them from lurking.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you mumbled to yourself, trying to focus on the couple moaning on your screen but getting constantly distracted by the smiling lady outside of your window.

Being unable to focus on your screen and unable to use your fingers precisely, you gave up on trying to relieve yourself, slammed your laptop shut, and went to bed. Defeated and frustrated. 

The next morning you woke up to something poking your nose. 

You didn't live with any pets. And no one other than you and your parents had access to your apartment. And there are spiritual bindings and talismans all over your apartment to keep entities out. Then why is there a guy floating on top of you? 

He has white hair, blue eyes, pale skin, and nothing on his body except basketball shorts. He did not look translucent enough to be an apparition. His poking ceased as you got off your bed to get ready for work, seeming as nonchalant as you possibly could. If this entity is strong enough to infiltrate your home, who knows what else he's capable of? 

You headed to the bathroom with him now, walking closely behind you. Before he could come in, you closed the door on him. Which was so helpful; the guy just emerged behind you, and you could feel him standing close to you, holding you by your waist, putting his head on your shoulder. But you couldn't see his reflection in the mirror. From the side of your eyes, as discreetly as you could, you saw him smiling and looking at you in the mirror. Then you saw his fangs peeking, not extremely prominent, but visibly there. And felt his claws digging through your shirt; his entire hand was the color of the midnight sky, which went up his forearms and faded into his pale skin around his elbows. 

It was hard to classify this guy; usually entities that manifest from previously alive beings just float around, and if they are brave enough, they try to possess you, which results in them instantly burning due to the locket that your grandmother left behind. Which held a fraction of her life source. The most probable answer is that he is a demon.

It was fairly easy to distinguish apparitions, phantoms, ghouls, etc. But demons, on the other hand, were complicated because they are more deceitful than others. It was easier for them to possess people, form a disguise, or use veils. You only ever had to face one demon in your life, and fortunately it was just a dog. Also, it was extremely friendly to you. 

This guy doesn't feel like a normal entity. If he is powerful enough to cross your spiritual boundaries and just touch as he pleases, he is not something you want to mess with. So the best bet is to ignore him until you can figure out what his intentions are.

But it is not easy to maneuver with an guy above 6’3 holding onto your waist and floating around you. 

And how are you even supposed to do your daily routine? You can't just not do anything because there is some entity attached to you. Without risking your powers being exposed, you have to get rid of him. 

So you tried to recite some spells of protection to get rid of him. Didn't work. Next, you made it seem like you were stretching while the guy was standing still in front of you and trying to follow your movements, and just when he bent down like you just did, you placed a talisman on his back. It burnt away just as soon as you placed it. 

You didn't have many choices, which kept your secret safe from him, the fact that you can see him.

Feeling annoyed and becoming more and more anxious, you went to the kitchen; maybe some coffee will help. The water was boiling in the kettle, and the coffee beans made a coarse sound while they were being ground. And the white-haired entity sat on your countertop, kicking his feet like a kid. Perhaps the frustration of last night and this guy showing up was getting to your head, because you reached out for salt instead of the sugar. You are also at fault here for keeping similar-looking products next to each other in similar containers without any labels. Your father definitely would nag you if he saw this. 

But maybe it was a blessing in disguise. Between you almost putting salt in your coffee and the white-haired, blue-eyed entity sneaking his hands under your shirt, you shrieked and your hands jerked up. Which resulted in the salt being thrown at the guy behind you, resulting in his instant disappearance.

Huh? For a being that powerful, it sure is silly that it was the salt of all things that got rid of him. 

You really thought he was gone; if not fully, then maybe at least he would not dare to come close to you now. So you made your coffee, with sugar this time, and reminded yourself to rebind your home with stronger protection. 

Unfortunately for you, this was not the last of the white-haired, blue-eyed entity that you'll be seeing. 

The rest of that day you spent anxiously looking for that white-haired, potential demon. You looked around your desk, under your desk, around the rooftop of your office building, where you usually eat your lunch, and even around the bathroom cubicles. To the point where you were anxiously looking behind yourself while walking down the hallways, walking to the subway station, on the train, and at the grocery store. 

And fortunately, except for random apparitions and ghouls, the particular guy with sharp claws didn't show up. Yet still, you didn't get any sleep that night, which was the usual without any melatonin gummies, though things have been a little better for the past few months. Instead of the usual 3 hours of sleep, you've been getting 6 hours! But the worry kept you up until it was 4 AM in the morning, and you felt somewhat reassured that he wouldn't be showing up.

The white fluff of hair and boring blue eyes reappeared around 5:30 AM. Honestly, he appeared way later than you anticipated. Also at a very inconvenient time, which is about to become a pattern with this thing that you've attracted.

Instead of your 7:30 AM alarm, you woke up to a pair of cold hands and sharp nails gliding over your skin. Coldness like you've never felt before, yet burning like hell itself, resided on those fingers. Those hands seemed to have no strategy or plan of where they wanted to run wild; they started groping on your thighs, leaving indents of his sharp claws on the sensitive skin. Just enough pressure to leave marks but not to make you bleed. 

And you knew when your eyes snapped open that he was back. It took a lot of holding back to not instantly sit up and throw salt at him; he'd realize that he's visible to you. But the way his hands were creeping upwards from the side of your thighs to your hips, then stomach, and nearly up to your chest—you sprinted towards the bathroom and locked yourself in there. 

As embarrassing as it was to have a floating entity hovering in front of you as you tried to get your scheduled toilet routine done, you had no choice but to let him simply exist. This time around he was in a set of pajamas, which was very strange.

Entities, who emerged from human beings, either always were naked or were adorned in clothes they were either buried or cremated in. It was not usual for them to change clothes or reappear after being shunned away. There is a ritual of giving entities clothing or other things—it is a process of making these objects as offerings meant for the specific spirit you want to give them to and then incinerating them at the end so the objects reach the realm of the dead. And since this guy can change his appearance at will, this means your suspicions were correct; this is a demon. And if you are accurate in your guess, this is a sex demon, an incubus.

That is the most plausible explanation, given his behavior so far: touching you, twirling your hair, even sniffing you. But you wish, oh so badly, that you were wrong. It'd be a pain in the ass to deal with a demon, and it'd be a million times worse to deal with a sex demon. Because look at the state of you; what vitality do you have left in you to feed this demon? 

Plenty, it can be assumed. From how he basically attached himself to you for the rest of that day.

From showering, with his intrusive hands and stares, barely dodging his perverse attempts. Getting ready for work and rushing out with just some toast with coffee in your stomach and a demon floating behind you, you went about the day by ignoring his entire existence. Especially his hands. Which seemed to have a mind of their own and a sleazy look on his face that could only be explained through one word that you kept repeating to yourself the entire day in agony and rage.

‘ Demonic little Pervert.’

Lying on your bed after an exhausting day of trying to run away subtly from a demon in the hallways, the rooftop where you eat lunch, and even the restroom, which was all just futile; the entity made himself at home in your cubicle, just around you in general. 

Never did you ever feel so comfortable in your own skin as the way the demon felt touching it.

And now he is pushing his hands up your wrinkled skirt, trying to unbutton your blouse. So you just turned to your side, with an arm under your head, and stared at your curtains. Wishing for this demon to finally clock out as well and leave you alone. Do demons have working hours like a corporate employee crushed under a hyper-capitalistic system? Most probably not.

Therefore, unfortunately, it means he is not disappearing anytime soon.

If it came down to it, you'd just have to put on a show of trying to come across clumsily and mistakenly spill salt over him. But for now he just lay beside you, facing you, similarly on his side. Smiling from ear to ear and tracing a finger around the features on your face. Your jaw, the bridge of your nose, the tip of your nose, your bottom lip, your chin, and finally the little mole under your eyes. When you thought he was done, his finger poked you in the eye.

“OW!” You shrieked and sat up, covering your tearing eyes.

“YOU HORRIBLE FUCKING DEMON! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?” All it took was one poke in the eye, and all your pretenses evaporated.

There was a long pause in the air. Along with some confusion from the pajama-clad demon, whose confused face and tilted head soon turned into an eager and smug audacity.

“Oh? You can see me?”

Shit.

“N-no?” 

“Oh, really?” 

If even for a second you thought your very poorly blurted-out lie worked. Oh, how wrong you were for that. 

In a mere blink of an eye, the demon is above you, and you are pinned down beneath him, with no power in you to move. As if you were paralyzed for some weird reason.

This shitty little demon.

You were, in fact, pinned down by demonic powers, way out of your league of understanding, of the incubus above you. You were rendered nothing but helpless prey to the predator, whom you've managed to lure into your home. 

You could lie there and think about everything, trace back your every step, and wonder what exactly had you end up with a demon leeching on you. But that’d require sanity and clarity, both of which you currently lacked severely. Due to the demonic entity and his fluffy white hair, covering those blue eyes, nothing is as dark as electric blue, but more shocking than ever.

“Aw, angel, you ignored me for the entire day when you could've just let me know you were busy admiring me.” His whispers fanned your neck, and his left hand slithered up your thigh as he made his legs comfortable. One right in between your own very thighs, opening them up, despite whatever left protest in you, while his other leg pushed one thigh from the outside. Positively putting you in an unknown, uncomfortable place. But the heat between your legs was growing rapidly.

“Should I assume yesterday the salt was intentional too? Hmm? So mean, angel, aren't you?” The faux hurt in his voice felt slimier than his hand on your throat. Gripping, not choking, yet.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, but I am trying !”

His laugh echoed through your half-empty room. Which truly looked unlived. No furniture other than what was necessary. No wonder you kept attracting these entities with your truly haunted-looking apartment. Even the bed was forced upon you by your parents; otherwise, it would’ve been just a mattress on the floor. And now it is the same bed where you lay helplessly at a demon's whim.

“Let’s become acquainted with each other, yes?” The hand that held his weight was now on the crown of your head, caressing. And the one on your throat made its way under your skirt. First it was just one long swipe over the shape of your pussy, covered under your panties. Then it was a finger pushing itself between your folds; despite the cloth being a barrier between your skin and his touch, it still managed to find your clit, and he pressed down on it. It was enough to make your entire body jerk, having your thighs close down on him. 

“Oh angel, are you weak there?” There was no pity in his voice. It was patronizing. Just a lion playing with his prey before mauling it to death. 

“Let's see where else you’re weak.” 

The hand on your head caressed your head while the other played with your panties. Pulling on it, letting it snap back and cling to your skin, feeling the dampness through the thin material. And you lay there anticipating his next move, with eyes closed tightly shut. Waiting for him to just incinerate those panties off you and take his fill. 

But when nothing came after for a long while, you slowly opened your eyes. And you felt your body lighter than how it felt before; you felt the sheet of metal like a heavy veil covering your body was now absent. 

And so the demon was gone.

Incubi, or sex demons, are said to haunt people who are sexually frustrated. Because they are a great source of food for the demon.

And as a sexually frustrated, haunted, and isolated person—this should be great for you! Oh, how you wish it could be said things were like that.

Instead it was waking up the white-haired demon under your sheets, with his face between your boobs, hands groping them, while his hips rutted into yours; he was very clearly hard and possibly leaking. You could feel the sleazy smile on his face, even when everything below his nose was buried in your chest, and his eyes looked at you through his white wispy hair. They looked hungry, to say the least, and threatening, to say the most.

“Good morning to my sweet angel.” He tilted his face, and it was now visible, the sleazy, dopey smile on his face that said he'd rather be nowhere other than where he is right now.

“Get. Off. Me.”

“Ooh, now call me a bad boy; that'd just make me cream my pants!” 

Before you could sit up and throw a few punches at him and maybe reach out for that salt shaker you put on your bedside table, he disappeared again. It was now just you, in your disheveled bed, your tank top pulled up to your neck, and your wet panties.

Well, he is hot; you have to admit to that. And you are very frustrated, needy, and sensitive. That is all.

The train that morning was disgustingly full. All because of a certain demon. Usually you leave a bit early to avoid the morning rush, but today you have to be crushed in between a bunch of sweaty people in a suit. 

In these situations, there are always a few creeps among the crowd. And at this point it is hard to say whether it is your bad luck or some sort of you were the target of one of these creeps. 

An older man moved behind you when the next station came, with a bunch more people getting in. When he initially pressed against you, you didn't think too much about it; everyone was pressed against one another whether they liked it or not. The man's intentions only became clear when a hand crept up the side of your thigh. 

Unlike the demon's hand, it felt rougher, unpleasant. You felt like throwing up; somehow you couldn't even do anything. You just froze up there. Unable to do anything while some stranger tried to fumble with your belt. It was as if there was something entirely unworldly holding you captive. You looked around; anyone could barely see you in the corner like this. But they should still notice something like this.

And then you looked down; the hands that were trying to take off your belt were translucent. The set of feet beside yours was hardly noticeable.

You got ready in a hurry this morning. In fact, you happened to be in such a hurry that you mindlessly left behind your previous locket. The same locket that protects you from this sort of situation.

“I see you on this train every morning. Yet I can never do anything. Hah. I am lucky today.” You could now feel the coldness of the apparition behind you. Presumably this man somehow died on this train, and unfortunately, like any other entity, you caught his eye.

His hands were almost done with taking your zipper down. That's when you looked to the side, with teary eyes, and you saw the white-haired demon in the overhead luggage carrier. His blue eyes were boring into the man behind you. 

“Aw. You're trying to find a replacement angel?” In a flash he was by your side instead of where he was previously. 

“H-help me. Please, please.” One of your hands reached out to grab onto the demon, who was now weirdly in a suit. Your other hand grabbed onto the apparition's hand, which tried to creep into your underwear. 

“JUST HELP ME PLEASE!” You whisper-shouted at the demon as quietly as you could without alerting anyone around you, and your grip on his jacket tightened.

“Since you asked so nicely, angel.” He flashed you a smile before his gaze shifted to the guy behind you.

“Hah. Yeah, try me, motherfu—” Before the apparition could even finish, the demon lifted one finger towards him, and within mere milliseconds the guy was gone.

Maybe you've taken this demon for granted, given how he acts around you. But it seems like he is immensely powerful, beyond anything or anyone you've ever seen. You've never felt power like this. Why is this demon even trying to feed off of you in the first place? Someone, or something, this string needs more vitality than you could ever produce.

“Wouldn't you kiss your hero as thanks?” Once again, you are pinned to the train's walls. This time against the blue-eyed demon, who just saved you from a creepy apparition. 

“I only got in this situation because of you anyway.” You scowled at him, trying to push him off of you, with not much protest to actually get him off this time. 

“Aw, how so?” Oh no, he looked adorable with that pout. You need to get a grip.

“If you didn't bother me this morning, then I—ugh. Whatever. What is with your outfit changes anyway?” You tried to whisper-shout at him again and hoped that no one else noticed what a nutcase you must have come off as.

“Hmm? Why? Don’t you like the suit? Want me to come naked next time?” That smirk on his face was doing things to you that you did not agree with.

“No! And stop suddenly disappearing and reappearing!” You felt his hand, which somehow was now on your waist, tighten, and another hand moving up between you two.

“Why? Y’miss me?” You could feel the heat creep up your neck, to your ears, and spread through your face. 

“No. But, I can't believe I am saying this, thank you for being here.” His face lit up with a big, toothy smile. And you just had to look at his stupid fangs and his blue eyes and his tail-wait. He has a tail? 

“I would've liked a kiss better, but I'll take what I can!” A thin, warm, pointy tail curled up your ankle when you looked down to confirm your thoughts. And indeed it was, as jet black as his hands and claws, a sharp tail. Before you could ask him where it even appeared from? You felt his claw on the waistband of your panties. Pulling on it with one sharp nail and letting it snap back on your skin, making you yelp in the process.

“That is a very pretty shade of blue you have there.” His hands slipped into your panties as the words left his mouth. His eyes trained down between the two of you, where your one hand flew to his wrist to prevent his claws from further slipping beyond the mound of your pelvic bone.

“St-stop!” Your other hand once again grabbed onto the arm of his jacket for support. 

“Why? Don't I get my reward?” His head tilted in pure confusion.

“But—I said—” “That's not enough.”

Now that he looked up and stared you right in the eyes, you could not stop him any further. What it was was unclear—the charm of an incubus or your years' worth of frustration—nothing made sense.

You were basically breathless, unable to inhale or exhale anything. The sensation of his claws scratching against the sensitive skin between your legs and the grip on your waist in the crowded train. You could feel how his fingers inched closer and closer under the pad of his finger on your clit, and the sharp end of his claws was digging into your inner thighs and grazing your hole—it was all too much.

“Your, your claws.”

“Oh, that can be fixed in a second, angel.”

You could feel his fingers putting more pressure on your cloth, rubbing it, drawing figures of eight on it. While the rest of his fingers dug themselves into the flesh of your pelvic area. The claws were gone, just like that. Like how his clothes change with every appearance, his tail grows at his whim, and even his claws retract back into his skin. 

Honestly, you were not sure whether this was a good thing or a bad thing. The claws were a good excuse to put a stop to what was happening, unless he did not give a shit about your well-being, which it didn't seem like he did, to an extent. But then again, when you brought up his claws, you genuinely just didn't want them to get in between you and his fingers. Sure, the sensation of the claws was something else, but not worth the bloodbath.

“Aw, look at my pretty pussy, so wet f’me?” He leaned in to your height to whisper in your ears. And you just prayed to whatever was out there that you don't get arrested for indecency in public.

It was truly humiliating. Having your back pressed to the doors of a public train, face turned just enough to catch a glimpse of the demon in front of you and the reflection of your own fucked-up face in the black glass of the doors. You'd rather look at your own humiliating expressions than know what was going on down there.

“Oh, she is so wet f’me, right? All for me.” His fingers were inside of you, two fingers deep, thumb on your clit, other hand on your waist—probably leaving marks—and everything was more visceral than ever.

It was maybe the train full of people almost finding out what you were up to, maybe it was his ink-tinted hands, which felt different than anything you've ever felt, or simply the fact that a demon of all things is making you feel such pleasures.

“Y-you have to—”

“I think you should be more concerned about what you have to do, angel.”

Even though he left the most important part unspoken, it was clear what you needed to do. You needed to cum on his hand in this train for him.

And with motive, his fingers both stretched in different directions inside of you. Pushing your walls and trying to remember every inch of you, memorizing it all. All the while his thumb kept going faster and faster, drawing little circles on it, making sure your clutch on his jacket remained as is.

“OH-Oh. Oh my—fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I am—” It was about time his fingers found the spot on your wall, that textured part of you from within, just around the backside of your clit. He found the spot that had your hands fumbling all over his shoulders, trying to steady yourself. So with the help of his free hand, he placed them on his neck, and they instantly went to his hair. 

“I will, please, please, I will.” Your legs were giving out. Another second like this, his fingers pushing that spot over and over, his thumb pressing down on your clit any harder, and you'll fall on this disgusting floor.

“Go on, come on, you can do it, angel, all for f’me, right? You’ll feed me well, right?” His head was down on your shoulders, just too close to your ears; his voice was just too raspy; the whispering, the little huffs of air coming out of his mouth along with groans—it was dizzying.

“Cum on my fingers, won't you?” It was not fair. Holding you basically hostage while also pleading with such command, it was so unfair.

But you did not care about all that when you came gushing down his fingers. More than your usual ten seconds, it lasted probably for minutes, sending shock waves through your body, until you had nothing more to give to his fingers—that made sure to ride you all through your orgasm by keeping themselves mobile. 

While you were a twitching, lifeless, drenched underwear-wearing mess, tightly held in his hand, he took out the fingers from your cunt. He did his best to gather everything he could, making you jump in the process. And all of that went right in his mouth.

It was honestly too generous to call it nasty. The way his tongue slipped between those slick fingers and wrapped around them. That long and sharp-looking tongue lapped all of you off his fingers, allowing his fingers to enter his mouth as fast as they wanted to deposit their hard-earned prize. All while his free hand held your face up by the chin, and he looked right down in your eyes while doing all those unfathomable, obscene things.

“So sweet.” You were not even sure if the comment was meant for you or just a general note for himself. 

As his tongue cleaned up all that was left over on his hand, you witnessed the sight of his claws growing back, sharp and still equally black as some void, like the rest of his hand.

“You want some?” He leaned down to your face, nose touching yours, eyes blue as ice, before leaning down to kiss you. 

It was the first time he kissed you. It was the first time anyone had ever kissed you, other than cats and dogs—but that does not count. You always thought first kisses were too overhyped; it cannot be some magical or whatever thing that people go on and on about. 

But the way his lips slotted with yours and the little smile that crept onto his mouth was everything that was wrong with this situation.

This was a demon, pushing his tongue into your mouth, and you were letting him. Tasting the lingering taste of your own cum in his mouth. How his tongue tangled with yours, chased after it, and the subtle taste of his spit. It was unlike anything you've ever tasted before. You could feel his fangs against your tongue and then digging on your lips.

Nothing about this made sense. But it felt so undeniably good. So good that you almost felt as if this was it, this was right. This is what was missing. This is what your toys and fingers could not recreate. 

And that did not make any sense.

If someone told you one day you'd have to call into work, informing them that you were too sick to clock in on time from a subway station. With a clingy demon in an expensive three-piece suit attached to your side, you’d probably tell that person to shoot you.

But here you are. Head in your hands, elbows on your knees, and a demon hugging you from the back. Life sure is crazy.

“Just skip work altogetherrrrr, let's go home and fuck.” His face tilted on your shoulder, and he batted his eyelashes, making attempts to coerce you into his wishes.

“Will you fuck off already?”

“You’re hurting meeeee!” 

“Good.”

A pout made its way onto his filthy lips while he muttered something that sounded like ‘so mean’ under his breath. And he floated away from where he was previously annoying you to take the empty seat beside you to annoy you. He looked too cute and innocent for a demon. But maybe that is part of the deception. So you sat there with your elbows on your knees, leaning forward in your seat, to take a better look at his face. 

Still gorgeous and still evil.

“I am wondering when you're going to leave me alone.” You looked forward at the empty tracks in front of you and the basically empty station. It was already well past 12:00 PM, so at least there was no one to witness you, or what it looked like to bare eyes, talking to yourself.

“Aw. I have been getting rid of pests for you, and this is how you talk to me!?” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat with a more intense pout.

“Wait. You've been doing that before, just not this? Not just today?” His little comment had you sitting up in your seat and moving your body enough to face him.

“Mmhmm. I've been making sure no pest gets to you, you know! Not my fault you forgot your pendant at home. I was bringing it back for you, but I guess some cockroach found you before me.” You just stared at him in silence for a solid few minutes as he smiled at you sweetly.

“You bought my pendant?” You blinked at him in confusion. Just how powerful and how fucking dense is this guy?

All he did was reach into the breast pocket of his jacket to pull out a silver chain with a dangling pendant on it. He leaned forward and reached behind your neck to clasp the chain back on you. With a little kiss on your forehead and a big toothy smile, he yet again disappeared on you.

Since it did not look like you're getting rid of this floating demonic thing anytime soon. It was the best bet to use him to your own advantage.

So this time, you waited for him patiently and eagerly to pop up in your room. After the last time you spoke to him at the station, he didn't show up for the rest of the day. Leaving you to think things through with the newfound information you got from him. 

And what better time other than a Saturday night to negotiate a deal with a demon?

“So what do I get in return?” The demon looked down at you from where he was floating in the air, above your head, in just some gray sweats. 

“I don't immediately end your entire existence.” You deadpanned, trying not to stare too long at his back muscles flexing from the way he folded his arms under his head. There were faint black lines, resembling strikes of lightning. They ran from the back of his arms, up to his shoulder, from his nape, down under the waistband of his sweatpants, where his pointy tail started and swished around in the air.

“Ok, ouch, angel, and here I was already choosing names for our children.” He pouted and slowly came down to your eye level, with his arms cartoonishly and lifelessly hanging in the air. 

“Do not make me throw salt at you.” You leaned back on your headboard, and your hands clutched the pouch of salt.

“Alrightttt. But you can't expect a demon to just do you favors, like keeping pests off of you, and not ask for anything in return.” With a shrug, he continued. “Then I would've been the angel here, right?” 

As annoying as it was to look at him smiling like he had you exactly where he wanted you to be, you didn't really have any other choice. Your pendant isn't working anymore; your grandmother's life essence and the effects of her spell are depleting from the pendant by the second, making the pendant’s barrier weaker by the second. And you don't have enough knowledge to do something about this. This annoying, sly, and very gorgeous demon is your only hope. 

And unfortunately, he knows it too.

“Ok. You can feed on my life essence.” 

“SO WE CAN FUCK!?” You rolled your eyes in defeat as the demon suddenly plopped on your bed with excitement, making you bounce on the mattress in the process.

“IF MY BED BREAKS, YOU'RE MAKING ME A NEW ONE!” 

“Oh, no worries, I'll get you a new one every time we break one.” His cheery tone just made the words spouting out of his mouth more filthy sounding. 

“You—never mind.”

But you were already too tired to say anything more. So you lay back on your bed, with your arms over your head, trying to push down the headache you could just feel coming over. The demon, on the other hand, lay right beside you on his side, taking it as an invitation to initiate his first proper meal .

But before he could get his grubby claws on you, you sat up on your elbows, making his eyes pop in slight surprise and disappointment.

“Oh right, what am I supposed to call you?” Usually you can perform a ritual, burn a spell, and get the entity's name and some other notable information like when they were born, when they died, type of death, what type of entity they are, etc. and other stuff. And you tried that for this demon as well, but nothing came out. Each time the visions were blank. It made you wonder how bad your luck must be to come across something so terrible.

“Ah! Hmm…. You can call me… Toru!” He smiled wide, looking proud of himself. 

“You said it like you just made that up on the spot.” The possibility made you frown. Maybe he is being cautious so you don't find anything about him.

“Nope! That's my name!” He smiled ear to ear, eyes closed, looking like an innocent creature, like he was not even a demon.

“That just sounds more suspicious.” You squinted your eyes at him, while he just smiled ear to ear.

“Oh, come on, I thought our relationship had more trust than that.” He let his entire body fall on you, pinning you down to the mattress under him.

“Firstly, we do not have a ‘relationship’; what we have is a deal . And like hell I'll ever trust a demon.” Even though you rolled your eyes at him with a scowl on your face and tried to push him off of you, his pout just morphed into a smirk. 

“Can't trust a demon, but you can let him fuck you, right?” 

He pressed his hands, or claws, on either side of your head to hover over you. With that annoying smirk on his face, which made your head boil and stomach tighten. You could feel your chest getting heavier; it was getting hard to breathe normally with a demon over you and his pointy tail wrapping around one of your ankles. You tilted your head away from him, not answering him, letting the tension in the air speak for itself. The anticipation was heavy in the air for what was to come next. 

Toru, as he told you to call him, nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. Moving his face up to your jaw, planting a kiss there, and going back down to dig his fangs into the side of your neck without any warning. You shrieked under his constant sucking and biting, while your left hand went up to pull on his hair, and your face scrunched up in something between pain and pleasure.

“A-are you even a demon… or a fucking vampire?” Your right arm wrapped itself around his shoulders. You could feel the flex of his muscles and even his skin that felt too human, too soft, and too warm to touch. He didn't retort to you with a verbal answer, just hummed in the crook of your neck as a smile stretched along his lips. 

Once he was happy enough with the marks on your neck, he moved down to your collarbone. After licking the expansion of the bones with his sharp tongue, he moved lower to rip the front of your tank top with a single claw nail. You could feel his nail grazing on your skin, making your back arch off the bed. It felt as if your skin would break any moment and there would be an open wound, but there was not; he was too careful to not have a single drop of your blood flow out of your veins. But if you could see, you'd see a single line drawn from the middle of your chest up to your belly button. And you didn't mind that tingling sensation on your skin, the feeling of being on the edge of an almost injury, or the destroyed shirt under you. 

All you could care about and focus on were his lips sucking, biting, and pulling on one of your nipples and one of his hands squeezing and kneading your other tit, while his other hand dug into your skin and pressed you into the mattress. 

“Ugh— fuck— Toru.” Everything felt unreal. As an almost twenty-something touch-starved virgin, you were sure that for the rest of your life you'd have to spend it with your hand and vibrator. Yet here you are, under a demon. 

“Mmhmm, what does my pretty angel want?” He moved back to place himself between your legs and placed his chin on top of your lower tummy. And both of his arms wrapped around where your thighs met your hips 

“Please, Toru.” You were already exasperated, covered in sweat, clutching your sheets, trying to focus your pupils on the demon between your legs.

“Ugh, beg more, I'm so close!” He jokingly moaned and morphed his face into an expression similar to yours. Earning a weak slap on his hand, causing him to giggle while he ripped open your shorts. 

“WHY ARE YOU RIPPING EVERYTHING LIKE A DOG?” At that point you felt pissed enough to gather some air to shout at him and sit up on your elbows. 

“They’re annoying.” 

“ You are annoying!” 

“You're so mean to me!” He looked like a dog who just got reprimanded for trying to sneak into the food cabinet. And he nuzzled his face into your panty-covered cunt, then fully burrowing his nose on the mound to take a long sniff as your thighs clenched around his head. 

Once he was done taking in your scent and possibly embedding it into your memory, you thought he'd move onto the next part. What, you didn't expect that he'd start licking your pussy through your panties? Not some lacy, sexy, black underwear—but some pastel pink cotton underwear, discolored on the crotch from years of wear and the horrors of periods. He bit your folds, wiggled his tongue between them, and pressed his tongue heavily on your slit. Soaking the panties in your juices and his saliva, he bit your clit along with some fabric of the panties and proceeded to suck on them as much as the barrier between his mouth and your clit allowed him. In conclusion, he was basically eating you out through your panties—like the freaky demon he is. 

“J-just, fucking get rid of it.” You pulled on his hair with both your hands, one hand shoving his head further into your cunt, the other trying to pull him away.

“You said not to rip anything off.” His words came out muffled from still being stuffed between your legs.

“Just take them off normally.” You were getting too impatient to even shout at him.

“That's no fun.” Yet he knew just how to provoke you enough to have you reach for the bag of salt under your pillows. 

“OK, SORRY, HERE, TAKING THEM OFF!” He sat up hurriedly when he noticed your hands were gone from his hair. “You're no fun.” He pouted and put both of your feet on his shoulder to drag your panties off.

And suddenly you felt too exposed, nervous, hyperaware of his blue eyes boring between your thighs, and hands holding your thighs open. A part of you felt like it was better when he had just left your panties on, and the other part wanted nothing more than Toru back where he was. The picture of the demon’s claws retracting back into his skin, the one last feeling of them scratching the skin of your inner thighs, was what finally made you realize the situation at hand.

You're losing your virginity to this demon, and you actually didn't mind it; you were kind of looking forward to it. It was a bizarre realization. But no more bizarre than having a demon's tongue stuffed in your hole. 

Toru’s sharp tongue wiggled around trying to explore every nook and cranny inside of you, memorizing all of it. While his tongue busied itself inside of you, one of his fingers slipped in to help stretch you out more, and his other hand rubbed random shapes on your clit. 

“Fuck—fuck. Ugh. There.” You couldn't help but let the groans and moans slip out of you, letting them get absorbed straight into his ego. 

Toru hummed in accordance and pressed his tongue up where it had you tightening your grip on his hair. The vibrations from his moans had you twitching. And you could feel something building up, something familiar but a thousand times more intense than what you have ever achieved by yourself.

“I-I am—” You couldn't complete your warning, and yet he hummed like he understood.

He was ready to lap up everywhere that you had to offer. And when you came around his tongue, that's exactly what he did. He didn't leave behind anything that he could have the pleasure of tasting on his tongue. Sure, demons don't eat regular human food, but this was basically his human equivalent to a five-star meal.

“What?” You were either too busy staring into his eyes or just went brain-dead from that orgasm.

“Not done with ya’.” Toru pulled you towards him by one of your ankles, and the sheets under you bunched up. 

“God. I've been waiting for this so long, angel; you have no idea.” He pulled your thighs to his sides, and your legs, although feeling like jelly, automatically latched around his waist. “Y’just can't wait, can ya’? Pretty cunt wants me inside so bad. She's feeling empty, huh?” 

His sharp tongue went on to spout more bullshit. Like, “Don't even have to show you how to use those legs, huh?” He kept rubbing the tip of his cock at your entrance, letting it slide in a few times, and each time all he had as an excuse was “oops.”

“FUCKING PUT IT IN!” You threw a pillow at him, fed up with his antics and getting edged even before having his cock fill you up. He caught the pillow with his left hand while his other hand finally helped him put the length of his cock inside of you. 

“ Fuck, fuck, fuck. Ahh!” Your back automatically arched off the bed. 

“There ya’ go. Happy then, angel?” He pushed the entire thing inside of you in one go after throwing the pillow on the floor. His smile got all dopey as he leaned forward and put his weight on both of his hands on either side of you, getting a better look at your eyes rolling back behind your sockets. “You feel so much better than what I imagined, ugh—fuck—ughh, so perfect, my pretty angel.” His right hand came to your waist to rub soothing circles.

“Good heav—”

“Wouldn’t— fuck —hell be more— ughh — appropriate?” 

“S-shh—ut up.” 

He leaned forward to dive back in the crook of your neck; with his signature sleazy smile on his face, he continued to thrust his hips at a pace where the stretch down there burned, but it also brought you pleasure you couldn't describe. He went back to bite down on your neck as some form of holding himself back, supposedly. Even if he was moving at a pace you couldn't comprehend but felt good with, you could feel Toru, on the other hand, was holding himself back.

“Bite me again and—”

“Threatening me some more, angel?” He murmured in your ear before biting down on your bruised skin once again.

You retaliated by moving up slightly to reach his neck and bit down hard enough to have the raw and metallic taste of his blood bleed out a little. It tasted different than what blood is usually supposed to taste like; you'd know as a chronic lip biter. Sure, it was metallic and salty, and then it was sweet in the beginning and left a bitter aftertaste. 

“F-fuck. You want me to pass out or something, angel?” He snapped his head to the left to face you, and in mere seconds his lips met yours. It was no gentle kiss; it was greedy. He was being so greedy with how he licked around your lips, sucked on them, forced your mouth open with his tongue, and slipped that sharp muscle inside of your own mouth to explore every nook and cranny inside, to remember the differences in how you.

“There ya' go pretty, ugh aren't you the prettiest? My pretty angel's pretty pussy—so lethal.” Toru moved around to sit back on his knees.

“Legs up, sweets.” He grabbed your legs together and placed them on his shoulder to thrust deeper and harder like that.

“FUCK. Oh, ugh—”

“Yeah, you like it, huh? Are you happy that I took your virginity? Yes, baby?” He cooed at the state of you, eyes rolled back, littered in marks, and his saliva  Everything was a mess around and on you, your hair, the sheets, and you especially looked the most messed up, holding onto the sheets like your life depended on it and sliding up on them from the force of the demon's thrusts.

“Y—yes. YES!” 

He giggled at your reply and focused on hitting the same spot that had you thrashing around and digging your nails into his thighs. Your groans and moans filled your little bedroom, echoed on your nearly empty walls, as the movements of his hips got sloppier. 

“I—Oh gosh, I—,” 

“I know, baby, cum on my cock, angel.” 

And so you did; just as his fingers moved to rub your clit, you could feel the knot in your stomach detangling. When he felt your walls clench around him, he threw his head back. He was just as close to his own release, but your satisfaction came first. “Fuck, swallow me whole, you sweet thing.” His hand tightened around your ankles, still hanging on his shoulder, while his other hand moved from your clit to your lower belly to press on it as you came undone. The claws on his hand started to grow as he pressed right under your belly button, and that is probably where everything went blank for you. All you could see were white beams of light in the blur of your room, and your legs slacked off of his shoulder, shaking like you went up five flights of stairs.

“My good girl, look at that angel, shit. ”

The indents of his sharp claws left behind a shape, which could be connected to draw something resembling a tilted heart. Now it's open to interpretation whether it was intentional or not, but given he is a literal demon, there are barely any actions he does without calculating the consequences. 

Before you could even realize anything, the demon cock started twitching inside of you, your own twitchy legs tightened around him subconsciously, and he stumbled over on top of you. You held him in your arms as he shot ropes and ropes of his cum inside of you. 

“My pretty, pretty angel, goin’ to fill her up, breed her good.” 

“You're a demon.” You said to him very matter-of-factly once you found your vision coming back. “So?” 

“So, how are you going to get me pregnant?” He raised an eyebrow at you and flopped down on you, then buried his face by your head and tilted his head to look at you with a sly smile.

“Who said demons can't get you pregnant?” 

“WHAT?” You almost sat up and shoved him off before he started laughing and pushed you back down.

“Wait, wait, ok, so yeah, it's possible, but it's more complicated than that. So no worries, you won't get pregnant unless I actually try to do that.” He smiled at you and rubbed soothing circles by your side. He looked finally content, like you do after a scrumptious meal.

“More reasons to not trust your ass.” 

“Oh, you can trust my ass; touch it if you want real bad.” He said in a playful sing-song voice and ended his sentence with a wink. It made you slap his shoulder, but you couldn't help but let a few chuckles slip out.

Your laughter died down, and everything around you started dimming down too. The weight of his body, the feeling of his tail wrapping around your ankle, his hands holding you tight with his claws back in his skin, and his cum seeping out of you—it was a recipe for deep slumber. And sleep you did; this was after a very long time. Your eyes got heavy to the point you couldn't keep them open anymore. This felt nice; this felt like something you could get used to.

But when in the morning, afternoon to be exact, well past 12:00 PM, you woke up after a full night's sleep, he was gone. It felt like you just went to bed, and without any dreams disturbing your sleep, when you woke up it felt like just seconds had gone by. But he was gone. 

Maybe you shouldn't get used to this.

Making deals with a demon never comes without a price. 

For you, that cost was probably your sanity. Honestly, what is worse? Entities roaming around you or a demon tiring you out. Not easy to answer, but the feeling of his tongue inside your tongue first thing in the morning, accompanied by orgasms, wasn't such a bad thing. 

“I loveee breakfast in bed!” He’d moan in your ear while thrusting into you with full force, like he didn't have dinner the night before. Plus now you get to sleep like a normal individual at night, well, after getting fucked to a puddle of nothing, that is. 

“You look so good in this shirt, fuck, I just wanna tear it off of you.” The demon muttered right in your ears while floating in the air just beside you.

You were at your desk, at work, inside of your office building, trying to focus on your tasks for the day, yet somehow every one to two hours the demon would show up to terrorize you. Some days he wouldn't show up during working hours, some days he'd be here for way too long, and some days he'd come and go in intervals. The inconsistency made it harder for you to come up with measures to prevent the demon from trying to let his claws wander anywhere he'd like or run his tongue to spout the most vile things in broad daylight.

“Ughhh, I wish I was inside you right now.”

“You are so focused, it makes me want to bend you over on this table.” 

“I want to eat you out right here and have these people watch me. I bet you'll like it.”

The whining was tolerable, but the words that came with it were the problem. To be fair, it was the demon in it of itself who was the problem. But then again, since he has been around, you have not seen a single other entity around you; things have been so smooth, if you don't count the whole demon situation. 

But change is always taxing. That's what you told yourself when you suddenly got sick after a week and a few days of having the demon around. He is basically becoming an usual part of your routine; the only reason why he is not is because he is extremely unpredictable. Like catching a cold, you're fine, sucking on a popsicle one day, and the next day your throat is hurting, so you brush it off thinking it'll go away at the end of the day. But it's not; it only gets worse the next day, and by the third day you're bedridden with a high fever. 

That's exactly what happened to you. 

Figuratively and literally. A demon latched onto you all of a sudden, and now he is freely using you as he pleases, and you are also bedridden, sick from god knows what, counting down your days because it feels like death. 

“It’s not that bad, angel.” 

The demon suddenly appeared next to you on the bed. And you could feel your temperature about to rise. You were well enough to see a blurry image of his face hovering over yours, but not enough to shout at him or move away. You were in no shape to feed him. And if that's what's going to be happening to you in this state, you might have to soon find a way to get rid of him, or better, think about how you're going to even get rid of him in this moment. 

“Oof, you're burning.” Instead of the impact of his lips, you felt the back of his obsidian hand on your forehead. Taking your temperature and assessing your condition. You could barely open your eyes to look at his face, and it looked worried. His brows were scrunched, his lips were jutted out subconsciously, and he looked focused—almost human. 

Toru vanished in a flash in your bathroom and then floated into your kitchen. After rattling around in there for a few minutes, he came back with a bowl of water and a cloth, a glass of water, and some meds from your bathroom cabinet. He sat you up carefully to wipe away the sweat covering your body, gently gliding the small towel over your neck, back, arms, face, and belly. He gave you the meds and helped you hold the glass. Then he gently laid you back down and adjusted the air conditioner’s temperature. placed a bottle of water by your bedside, sat down on the floor, and placed his head on the bed to stare at you, like some puppy.

“Do you want something to eat? Some porridge, maybe ?” He looked worried, helpless even, more than how helpless you look right now. 

“How are you going to order anything?” You mumbled with your eyes closed, almost drifting away to sleep.

“I can cook!” He excitedly sat up and lifted his head off the bed. 

“I don't want to be liable if you use my kitchen to burn down his building.” 

“If you keep doubting me like this, angel, I'll cry.” He folded his elbows on the bed to come closer to your face.

“So you want to burn down this building with your tears?”

“Now you're stereotyping me! All because I am a poor little demon!” 

“Sure, you helpless creature.” A grin pulled on your lips, and even with your eyes closed, you know there was a similar one on his face. 

The conversation died there as you lost your consciousness. And the demon got to work in your kitchen. He found some sad-looking vegetables in your fridge and other things to get to cooking. He also made a mental note to remind you to go grocery shopping. He found no problem working around in your space; at this point he was more acclimated to this apartment than you, and he looked after it better than you. He gathered your dirty clothes you always left scattered on the floor, made your bed, did your laundry, folded your laundry, and cleaned your dishes and the toilet, and now he is cooking for you. If he wasn't a demon, he would be the top contender for the best potential househusband. After about an hour, he was already done.

“Angel? Wake up, eat a little, ok?” He got the little folded table on the side of your bed to place it by your side and put the plate of food on it. 

“Mmhmm.” He helped you to sit up and handed you a glass of water. 

When you didn't even reach out to hold it and sat there with your eyes closed and hair looking like a bird's nest, he helped you drink some water. And even spoon-fed you the food. He blew on it gently to cool down every bite, brought the glass of water up to your lips from time to time, and then also cleaned up after everything. Like the good potential househusband he is, he did the dishes, set your meds by your bedside table, and tucked you in bed. 

“Get well, angel.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead, and you swear you heard him mumble something else. But you were too sleepy, and he was too quiet. You didn't even have any energy to ask anything; your eyes were betraying you, and before you made up your mind to ask him what he said, he was gone. 

The next few days went by like that. The demon came in more often than usual to take care of you. Because what you thought was just a light cold from the changing seasons turned out bad enough to make you unable to get up from your bed for 4 days. You wish you could take more time to fully recover, but then also you couldn't ignore work anymore. So for the rest of the week, with your own little demon helper, you worked from home. Making that little demon helper feel a little angsty and neglected. 

“Let's just go back to the bed.” The demon floated around you like a toddler whining for candy. He has been persistently trying to pry you out of your chair for the last 1 hour, and so far his efforts have been futile. 

“I have a lot to do.” You kept your eyes trained on your monitor. The light reflecting off your glasses made it harder for him to gauge whether you were just annoyed at him or being hard on him as usual. 

“And I want to do you .” He said that with a stone-straight face after he popped his head between you and your monitor.

“Go back to hell or something.” You tried to look past him and continued typing.

“Do you hate me, angel!?” His face morphed into an exaggerated desperate expression, eyebrows scrunched and both corners of his mouth turned down. He cradled your face in his hands, his claws adjusted to a medium length so they wouldn't scratch you by accident. You noticed that from the corner of your eye and felt something fluttering in your chest. 

“You're making me hate you.” You pulled his hands off your face and moved him to the side like a floating balloon.

With a sigh he deflated down on the floor and placed his head on your lap. You looked down at his sulky face and the way his tail thumped on the floor in annoyance. It made the corners of your lips tug. Hesitantly you placed your nondominant hand to pat the floor of his messy, white, pearly hair. And he immediately moved his head towards your touch and looked up at you from where he let his face rest on your lap. His lips didn't move anymore than the usual smirk that always adorned his lips, but his eyes tugged into a smile. You looked away from him and went back to typing away on your keyboard, but you didn't shove him off your lap. You liked the warmth of his face, the way he looked up at you, the way his eyes smiled, and how his hands wrapped around your legs. 

The moment was filled with sweet silence. It felt like you might as well get used to this. But like you can't trust a crocodile’s tears, you can't just assume that a demon would be content with head pats. That'd be wishful and naive of you. 

First you felt a kiss on your thighs, right on the valley where they pressed together. You didn't think much of it. Then he started sucking on the skin there; it bruised easier than, say, your neck. By the time you barely typed two incorrectly spelled words, he had your thighs parted, face buried in between your legs, sniffing your cunt through your shorts. His arms curled around your knees and kept them open with ease. So now you have a demon between your legs, licking and sucking on your cunt through your cotton shorts. 

“F-fucking hell, Toru.” The demon only hummed and looked up at you from where he was positioned on his knees. Your hands were off your keyboard at this point, buried in his hair, pulling on it. He pushed your chair back, and it wheeled backwards while he dragged your shorts off you. In that sudden moment, you couldn't figure out what was even happening when he moved under your desk and dragged your chair forward and went back to the position he was in.

“Ooh. No underwear? Finally taking my advice, angel?” He kept gawking at you, at your cunt. It was better to not wear underwear at home; it felt more comfortable. But not that you'll ever tell him he was right. Toru dove right in, licking at your slit and sucking on your clit like he hadn't been fed in days. Which is not wrong; he has been starving. You were honestly surprised by how much the incubus strained for your sake. It softened your heart. But you won't admit to that as well. 

“Go on. You said you were busy.” 

You tried your best to ignore the fiend between your legs—eating you out like his life depended on it. It was sort of a discovery for you, seeing him on his knees for you, hidden under your desk; there was this sense of guilt that gnawed at you. But you couldn't help but get wetter with every lick and couldn't help but tighten your thighs around his head as you came all over him.

“So. Now shall we head to the bed, or do you want me to carry you?” He rested his head against your thigh as he licked around his lips to clean up everything you left behind. His smile was soft and his eyes were coercing; there was no way you were about to get out of the clutches of temptation personified, who's kneeling between your legs. With a sigh, you reclined in your chair and reached for the little satchel in your drawer.

“Sorry, Toru.” “Huh? What do you—”

Just as the sprinkle of salt hit his head, the demon disappeared from under your desk. You felt bad somewhat, but it's not like you had any other choice. It'd be easier to deal with a sulky demon than drowning in overdue work at the end of the month. 

He didn't show up for the rest of the day. 

Not even the next morning for his usual ‘breakfast.’ You thought he was angry with you. And it worried you. What if he was actually angry with you? What if he didn't show up for days? Was he going to be alright without getting his fill for days? Will you be alright without him around? But wait, isn't it better? To not have him around? Sure, you weren't even close to finding a replacement for your pendant or him, but wouldn't it be easier without an incubus always floating around you and whispering dirty things in your ear? Ruining your panties and cleaning up your apartment? Cooking for you and taking care of you when you're sick? 

You're really getting off track.

“Hey! Good morning!” Your coworker, Ms. Miwa Kasumi, passed by and greeted you; she was pretty new. Which is probably why she has been the only person in your department to greet you without any obligations and without any stutters.

“Oh, good morning.” You did your best to return her a smile, but you were sure it came off weirder. But she still looked appreciative nonetheless and then started walking beside you towards the meeting room. 

“Ugh! I hate meetings first thing in the morning; it sucks!” Ms. Kasumi whined while walking with you. Of course, who would like meetings, especially when their entire department, except for one junior maybe, behaves oddly with them? Working under a big-name company almost always sucks. Especially when it's going through new changes like getting a new CEO. So things have been hectic lately anyway. So on top of everything, imagine walking into a meeting room full of people, where your designated seat is occupied by a sex demon in a suit, who has been haunting you. 

“Everything alright?” You froze in the door of the meeting, and Ms. Kasumi looked back to check on you. 

“Uh—yeah!” You tried to enthusiastically answer and follow her inside where everyone was already gathered. 

“Good morning to my sweet angel!” The demon piped from your seat as you walked up to it and lingered with placing your things on the table as slowly as you could. Giving  plenty of time to get off your chair. 

“Sit down, Ms. L/n, we're starting.” Your department instructed, and when you looked at the demon with a glare, he patted his lap with enthusiasm and a smirk on his face. You got fully cornered.

“This is punishment.” The demon said as he got comfortable under you. Maneuvering you to sit as closely on top of him as possible. 

“I was just busy.” You tried to whisper back to him as nonchalantly as possible while keeping your eyes on the presentation on the screen.

“I know, but you were really mean.” He whispered back in your ear like everything that was happening between you two right now could be heard and seen by everyone.

His hands just toyed with the hem of your skirt at first. And as you got more comfortable with being on his lap, as you let your guard lower—his hands started roaming all over your body. It started innocently with drawing circles on your knees with his sharp nails, then his claws retracted back into his skin, which is never a good sign. His hands went up and up until they were just below your breasts. They stopped there and squeezed them, making you hunch defensively.

“Don't make it obvious, alright, sweets?” 

He opened up your shirt and started running his fingers over your collarbones. And soon after pulled your bra down to put your tits out on a show. There you were, in a meeting room full of your coworkers and colleagues, looking down at your lap because you couldn't bear to look up to see the horrors in everyone's eyes. But the demon under you couldn't be less bothered. He played with your tits like he could smell the embarrassment and agony on you, but he could also see right through you. As if he could tell how much this was turning you on.

“What a dirty little angel you are.” He chuckled slightly right beside your ear, placed his chin on your shoulder, and bunched up your skirt. Then he pushed aside your panties, and without any prep or warning, he rammed his cock inside of you. You were on the verge of screaming out a moan; your grip on the hand rest got tighter and tighter as you felt like the room was getting smaller and smaller and hotter by the second.

“Now don't whine like I didn't offer to stretch ya’ good last night, but you threw salt at me, hmm.” The pointed tip of his tongue slipped around the ridges of your ear. “I think you are forgetting that you are dealing with a demon.” 

And maybe you were. You were getting confused by his kindness and compassion, so maybe for a while you forgot he is a literal demon. Feeding from, or maybe feeding on, you. 

“Distracted? Am I going too soft on you, angel?” Toru noticed how you leaned on the table with your elbows pressed on the surface for your life, but you seemed distracted. You were distracted from the meeting, from the way his hips pistoned upwards into you; you were thinking about something else, and he couldn't have that. You had to just sit there with your lips pressed together and sit there drenched in your cold sweat. 

“Look up, sweets, won't you? Don't you wanna see how good I'm fucking you in front of all these people?” His hand gripped your throat, and at that point you were fully hunched over the table. All the while he thrust into your cunt with enough vigor to shake the entire table with you. His balls were basically slapping against your skin, and the tip of his cock was hitting places you did not think existed before.

“I’m gonna fucking cum inside you. Have you dripping with my cum all day? You'll like that, huh? walking around in public while m’cum fucking seeps out of you?” Toru leaned forward and pulled you back towards him by your throat. “But you have to keep it nice and warm inside of you.” 

“F-fuc-k.” You muttered under your breath; you were about to orgasm in a meeting room at your office. But in this moment all you knew was that Toru was whispering shit in your ears, thrusting into your pussy, and you were about to cum all over him.

“C’mon, do it. Gush all over me like my good angel.” And like on his command, you came just like that. He bit down on your nape, and soon after came inside of you, like he promised. After he pulled out, he went and shoved everything that leaked out back inside of your pussy with two fingers and a kiss on your cheek. 

“See ya’ later angel.” And like that, he was gone. And you were just left there drenched in your sweat and filled with his cum, sitting in your chair confused and scared. 

“Are you ok, Ms. L/n!? I've been calling for you for the last 5 minutes.” Your boss asked from the end of the table. You were too scared to look up at him. While contemplating, your eyes landed on your shirt, perfectly buttoned just as it was, and your skirt was wrinkled the exact amount from this morning when you got off the train. 

“Yes, sir, just feeling a little hot.” You do not know how you held yourself together to not stutter while replying to him while everyone in the room looked at you weirdly, except for Ms. Kasumi, who just looked concerned.

“Are you sure? Is your fever back? Do you want to step out for a bit?” 

“It’s alright, sir; I'm perfectly alright.” You shook your head and told him you were just fine and took a sip of your water to cool down. 

“Alright, if you say so.” 

He nodded hesitantly and proceeded back to the meeting. As the meeting went on, even though you tried your best to focus on the contents of the presentation, all you could think about was one cunning demon and his cum pooling in your underwear.

“YOU PIECE OF SHIT! HOW DARE YOU—WHAT IF—” You held the demon by his collar and shook him back and forth while he just giggled.

“It's ok, angel, they can't see anything.” You stopped in your tracks and pulled him closer to your face and squinted your eyes.

“elaborate.” He sighed and held your hands with his own. “They can't see me and therefore can't see anything I do to you unless I want them to.” You blinked at him, feeling somewhat at ease by his confirmation. 

“Are you sure?” He nodded and kissed right under your left eye. “Why would I lie?” 

“To make me feel at ease or something.” He giggled some more, and you couldn't help but stare at his blue eyes squinting as his lips stretched. “Yes, but I wouldn't lie to do that.”

“Says the demon.” You snorted incredulously as he snickered some more. But you felt fully at ease. 

“You do know this opens up soooo many possibilities.” The demon slyly said while moving his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

“You—” “Ms. L/n! Are you there?” 

You got cut off by Ms. Kasumi while trying to curse out the demon some more for his suggestion. In a panic, you asked the demon to stay where he was, at the end of a hallway, in front of the elevator, and you walked towards Ms. Kasumi as fast as you could. When you got to her, she just immediately started asking if you were alright and if you needed to go back home. 

“Are you sure you're ok?” She really genuinely looked worried. 

With some reassurance, she was convinced by your pathetic excuse about the thermostat. Nonetheless, she still offered to take up some of your work and didn't take no for an answer. It was refreshing, really. Instead of people quietly putting more work on you because apparently you are more competent than them or some other excuse, even though they always have something to say behind your back, she wanted to take some load off your shoulders. It was new, but you appreciated that.

once you made sure Ms. Kasumi was gone, you walked back to where you left Toru. When you reached the end of the hall, you took a turn to find him standing in front of the elevator, looking like he was waiting for it to get here. 

“What are you waiting for, the elevator or something?” You jokingly said as you went to stand beside him. And the demon, on the other hand, looked fully flabbergasted to see you. It was as if he was seeing you up close for the first time. Then he looked confused and just panicked. Like he was going through too many emotions at the same time. And it made you confused in return. Why is he acting like he didn't make you think that you were about to be on the verge of losing your life just an hour ago? 

“Yeah—yeah. I am.” 

His voice sounded different. Deeper than how he usually speaks with you, calmer as well, but not really calm in that phony way that you know all too well. You couldn't help but scrunch your eyebrows and mirror his confused expression. 

“Mr. Gojo! I found the file!” Just as you were about to interrogate him some more, an exasperated and tired-looking man ran up to the demon with a bunch of files under his arm and one in his hand. ‘Mr. Gojo,’ that's what he called the demon, you know, as Toru. If you were suspicious and confused before, now you are panicking and confused. What was happening, and why did that name sound so famiiar?

“Yeah, this looks good.” Toru—or Mr. Gojo—looked through the file he was handed with a stern and serious expression that you've never seen on the demon. But what surprised you more was when he pulled his hands out of his pockets to grab the file, his hands were not the same glittery obsidian anymore. And that odd anomaly made you look around for his tail, which was also gone. When he turned towards you, who was too stunned and frozen in place to say anything, the elevator doors opened with a ding. ‘Mr. Gojo’ looked hesitantly between you and the elevator while the sickly-looking man, possibly his assistant, looked between you two. He opened and closed his mouth and then just walked inside the elevator with his assistant quickly following behind him.

“See you around, Ms. L/n.” That's all he said before the elevator doors closed between you two and he was gone. 

What the fuck is happening?

In your entire supernatural life, you've never encountered anything stranger than this. He had the same cerulean blue eyes, the same shade of platinum white hair, the same features, and the same three-piece suit the demon was wearing this morning. How can there be a man who looked exactly like a demon. Or was the demon disguising himself as this man? But why would he do that? What was his motive? That was all you could think about while aimlessly walking through the hallway to get to your desk. You spent the rest of your day in a trance. Typing at your computer in a daze, making more mistakes than progress. That even your boss noticed. This was not how you work; he has seen you sick, and you always push through it. But he didn't want to pressure you with too many questions and just left you alone.

At the end of the day, Ms. Kasumi tagged you on your way out; she was talking about something. But you couldn't hear anything; you were wondering why the demon didn't show up since you saw his lookalike. 

“You know, Ms. L/n, the new CEO is so gorgeous! I ran into him in the hallway today, and OMG, he is cooler than what the rumors say!”

“Mmhmm.” 

You disinterestedly nodded along, wanting to get home as soon as possible and put this day behind you. But just as the elevator doors opened, there he was again, right in front of you. 

“Hello, sir!” Ms. Kasumi bowed down in front of this, Mr. Gojo. Like he was an important figure, which you assumed by how he walked around with the amount of power exuding off of him.

“Oh—um, you don't have to bow.” He awkwardly shook his hands for Ms. Kasumi to stand straight back up again. All while his eyes remained trained on you, maintaining perfect eye contact. You weren't one to hold eyes with someone, but here you were, refusing to look away first, maybe to find any answers behind his cerulean eyes.

“I assume you are clocking out? Thank you for your hard work. Have a good night.” He smiled at you two, and his eyes finally wavered away from you. You could see a flush of red creeping up his neck under the dim lights of the lobby. 

“Thank you, sir! You have a good night as well!” Ms. Kasumi enthusiastically said as you two stepped out of the elevator for Mr. Gojo to step in with his tired-looking assistant.

“If you'll excuse me, then.” Mr. Gojo nodded one last time at you two. Mr. Han walked ahead of you, but you still kept standing in front of the elevator, staring at him shamelessly. And before the doors could close between you two once again, he smiled at you, a smile that reached his eyes, and he looked exactly like the demon you've come to know in the last few weeks. 

“Bye, Ms. L/n.” 

This was definitely the same guy. There is no way they're two different individuals. They're somehow connected, and you do not know how, but you need to figure it out. As soon as possible.

“See! Like I said, he looks better up close!” Ms. Kasumi enthusiastically looked at you for your agreement while you two walked side by side up to the entrance of the building. 

“Who?” 

“The new CEO! Mr. Gojo! You are really out of it today, Ms. L/n; please get some rest when you get home.” Unfortunately for Ms. Kasumi, you tuned out everything she said after Mr. Gojo. 

There is something weird going on right now. And you, honestly, have no idea what it is. You do not have any clue other than the fact that your new CEO and the sex demon you made a deal with look exactly the same and behave exactly the same and feel exactly the same, but not entirely. And it's giving you a headache. Whatever it is that is going on, you will get to the bottom of it. 

But first, you need that damn demon to show up, who's made a mess of your already tiresome life.

PART TWO ⸻> soon!

FIND MORE OF MY WORKS HERE

a/n: dividers by @/enchanthings-a & @/omi-resources. fanart by @/3-aem, lyrics info in image, and other one is just from Pinterest.

“Okay D-class, step into the room.” The scientist said in a dry tone as the guards pushed them inside. Two D-class stuck in a room with a class-looking box that held a drama mask inside. The mask had a twisted frown on its motionless face, they both looked at the expression.  They couldn't take their eyes off of the mask as if it was calling them closer.  You take a step closer to the glass, and the mask starts to ooze a black liquid. The other d-class places the hand on the glass, this is a weird voice in your head.  

“Free me…” the voice purred, like a whisper and you're not the only one who hears it. 

“Free… me…”  The voice turned into a hiss and the other D-class let out a wince.  You look at the other guy,  who looks like he is going to have a nosebleed.  Before you could say anything the guy punched at the glass,  his fingers were red with blood as he kept punching the glass over and over again until it broke.  Breaking his hand in the process, you can hear the way his fingers snap. An alarm started to go off when the glass broke. The other D-class hand was covered in blood as he fished the mask out of the box with haste. 

 You sit and watch all this go down, whatever daze you were in before it was gone as the door opens and a small group of guards come inside armed and ready to shoot.  You take a step back, your back hitting the wall and you watch everything go down. 

The other d-class put the mask on their face, the mask was dripping the a new smile on its face this time. Its toothless mask mouth was open in a silent laugh.  The guards got ready to shoot but it was too late the other D-class was strangling one of the guards. You try to run off but one of the armored men points their gun at you.  

“Get the fuck back!” The guy yelled, and you put your hands up.  The other D-class managed to fight the guards, but their bodies got slower as things went on, and you're sure that the bullet holes weren’t helping.   The man who was pointing the gun at you was too busy trying to take down the other guy to notice you walking toward the broken glass shards. 

“Oh my-” your words feel flat as you look at the scene.  The masked D-class was murdering the guards despite looking like Swiss cheese. Until it was just the two of you.  The bloodied corpses on the ground, scratchings embedded into the necks, and a couple of eyes popping out of heads.   

“You trying to help a friend out,” the other d-class took some sluggish step towards you, their voice crocking as they spoke. 

“Come on, man, I could really use your body,” the distorted voice snorts, chuckles, and takes another step closer.  Your hands tightened on the glass shards causing it to trickle blood. 

“Hey now! Don't mess up the soon-to-be merchandise.” The mask cackles and places a hand on your shoulder. The skin of the guy was literally falling off his bones and you held back the urge to vomit and you barely registered what was said.    

“What?” you let out a small whisper as the masked man looked you up and down, its face oozing its liquid from the eye sockets. The body of the d-class that was once as alive as you were, was melting before your very eyes.   You let out a hiss as some viscous substance dropped on your skin, it burned but it felt more like hot grease touching you than whatever the hell was happening to the body the mask was currently inhabiting. 

The SCP seemed very giddy with the fact that you didn't seem very bothered with the liquid that was leaking. The man…thing, tackled you to the ground, your back slamming into the floor. You let out a gargled hiss as he wrapped his hand around your neck. You fight him off until you see him take off the mask, the material hitting you in the face as it falls.  The body it was inhabiting slumps on top of your body, which you quickly throw off of you. 

“What the fuck” you think to yourself as you try to process what just happened. You looked at the mask that lay on the ground with a smile on its face.  You picked it up, freezing up after you came to a stand. 

You can’t put it down, your hand locked onto the mask, and your eyes stuck in place. Your mind becomes a blank slate; you don’t even notice when your hand starts to move closer to your face. Why was this happening right now? You can’t tell. It fits snugly on your face when you put it on. It smells old, and you try to pull it off, but you can’t. You hear laughing as you try to take it off, and it is coming from yourself. 

You could feel your body move on its own, you were moving down the hall to some unknown location with some familiarity that you didn't or at least shouldn't know.  You moved to take down anyone who was in your way with ease that isn't natural.  You could feel a growing heat in your body that was like you were in a hot shower for too long.  

You were breaking other scp out of their containment and you couldn't stop. You wanted to stop, you didn't want to kill people or break other things that could also kill someone,  that was like you.  Just for a distraction to do who knows whatever this mask scp wanted.  Their blood was on your hands, some of it literally.  

“Your body is great for me.” You heard yourself say, as you stopped in front of a door.  It's just like some other scp lockups and with some help from some other scp the door comes open. 

“What are you doing here?” The SCP spoke, in a low, unnaturally smooth voice. 

“I came to see you, of course. We should run away together.” There was a long moment of silence as you looked at the SCP, who looked like an old-timey plague doctor. Your body wrapped around the other figure, and he let out a groan.

“You know that’s not going to work, right?” 49 said in a tone that couldn’t have sounded more like it involved eye-rolling. 

“When has that ever stopped you from breaking out.”  Your body shook and convulsed as if you were cold, which couldn't be less of the truth since you felt like you were burning up.

“I hate to say you have a point, but I doubt that vessel of yours will last long enough.” He looked your body up and down. You were feeling a bit fuzzy, but it was most likely because someone else was piloting your meat suit like a puppet.

“Well, this one is actually holding up fantastically; best vessel so far”  You do a couple of slutty poses for the SCP in front of you. 49 gives him a short nod and 35 countries to show you off as if you were a high-class prize. “I can show you just how intake this body is.” 

The vibes shifted as you spoke in a low tone, and you carelessly started to unzip your jumpsuit to the end of the zipper.  SCP 35 pulls your cock out of the suit and starts to jerk your cock off to bring it to life.  It was weird to not have control of your body this way; it almost made you feel like you wanted the one stroking your cock; even if it was your own hand. Your body shivers and a hiss leaves your lips. Maybe it came from the mask stuck to your face. You couldn't tell. 

You watch your cock get hard in your hand from what feels like a spectator's perspective.  SCP 49 watched all this in silence and took a small step forward. He placed a hand on your shoulder. It was cold, and you felt like something was supposed to happen.  

“It does seem like you do have a good grip on this vessel but there's something different about this one” He grabs your chin and you feel your heart stutter but you're not sure if it was of your own accord or not.

“Oh well they have a strong will as well as a strong body and they seem to be very present.” Your voice was full of pride.

“That's fascinating,”  he looked you up and down at your mostly exposed body. He traces from your chest to your groin. Your hips chase after his touch.

“And I'm sure that he can feel everything and it and it's making all this feel more intense,” 35 chucked and went back to stroking your cock and making sure to use one of the gloved hands of 49. 

It feels good, if not entirely invasive, to your consent.  You rock your hips into your hand as you stroke your cock in a quiet and inmate situation. You wish you could say something to either of them, but all you could do was yell in your mind and hope that your possessive drama mask could hear you. 

“I need you to fuck me…us, just you know what I mean,”  35 stuttered as he moved to take off the jumpsuit completely.  

“Before the party, poopers show up to ruin our fun.”  You lean on the cold table and wait expectantly. 

You jumped a bit at the feeling of 49’s gloved hands gripping your hips.  Your body was filled with a mix of dread and excitement, and your heart was beating faster as if you were sure that he was actually going to do it; neither of you seemed to think so by the way you were feeling.  A shaky moan leaves your lips when you feel the tip pushing against your tight hole. 

“I’m only doing this to shut you up for a while.” He lets out a groan as he pushes deeper into you. 

“This is the opposite thing to do when it comes to shutting me up, baby, ~” You chortled between a few, breathing heavily.  

49 doesn't answer, only deciding that he should bottom out of you, all of this feels overwhelming to you, but it was also incredibly hot, and your cock twitched for friction it doesn't have.  It wasn’t every day or ever since you'd taken something in your ass, and it made your legs tremble with the slightest movements of the other man’s hips, which were only doing shallow strokes. 

“Looks like someone enjoying themselves” 35 moves to stroke your abandoned cock slowly to match the shallow thrust of the guy behind us. 

The thrusts we’re reaching deep in your entrance. The way 49 was pounding against your prostate sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Who knew the doctor knew how to lay it down or that he could for that matter. 

“oh fuck!” you let out a whimper as you flipped over and got on your pack, and he put you in a mating press. You could feel the stretch in your hamstrings. 49 rocked into you at a medium pace. The mask moaned.  If you could, your eyes roll back as you feel his rock into you with an almost aggravated force. 

You don't think you can last any longer, and your balls tighten, and your cock throbs as you get close to cumming. 49 made hushed, reverberated groans as he moved into you. You could feel the two of you cumming hard. Your legs quaked and your asshole spasmed. Your dick bucked up and twitched as you came ropes of cum into your stomach.  

Suddenly the MFT busted into the room guns ready to fire; they froze in place as they saw what's going on. 

“Well shit, guess you're gonna die here, bud,” 35 spoke to you as he moved to hold onto 49, wanting to cuddle a little before his vessel was executed. 

Ammunition fired into your body, burning, ripping pain consuming your entire being. It was then when SCP 35 had full control of your body, all it took was you dying. The SCPs tried to fight all little before they gave up to be taken to separate containment rooms, and the repost made after it about your little intimate incident was talked about for at least a whole day before the task force had to take anesthetics.