#implied noncon

And once you realized he wasn’t going to murder you, life became.. nice. And you played the part- something you were too ashamed to do before, until Ghost took you in and made you the dog you were supposed to be.

Like now. Your ears perk up- shooting off of the huge bean bag Simon calls your dog bed and scurrying to the door when your Simon came through it. You pinned him against the door while he let out a grumble, ignoring his huffs while you furiously sniffed him. Bloodied, stained clothes- of course he’d been working at his butcher job, and you loved the smell of blood on him every day when he came home.

“You’re home- you’re home you’re home!! I missed you- I missed you, Simon- I missed you-“ you whine out, your sniffing becoming aggressive groping as you nip at his jaw- and whimper when the man scruffs you.

“Miss you too, buddy. Were you good?” he mumbles, cleft lip so cute that you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing him furiously. He moans under your excitement, groping at your own naked body against his clothed one- so cute, so sweet. He’d taken it upon himself to keep up with your t shots once you’d become his- and fuck, did he enjoy seeing the fruits of his labor.

You were hairier, thicker- and fuck, you were so horny. “So good- good good good, promise- promise I was good!” You moaned against him, and a sharp smack to your ass makes you squeal sharply. Fiddling with the tail plug, enjoying the way your butt wiggled and made the silicone tail wag with you. When you start trying to sink down- he stops you.

“Come on- please? Please? Puppy wants- I want your cock already! You promised- been waiting for you!” Your pleading and whining makes him smile down at you, enjoying the way your hands raked through his overgrown buzz cut.

“Y’ haven’t earned it yet, pup. If y’ want my cock, you know what you gotta do,” he mumbles out, kissing your forehead- then your cheeks, then your mouth gently. You let out a soft whimper, hiding your face in his huge palm as your cheeks burned.

“But-“ you start, falling silent when his stare hardens. You step away with burning cheeks, fingers tracing over the top surgery scars he’d done himself- you asked, and he made sure your cuts were perfect. Where that meat had gone- you didn’t know. Maybe he’d cooked it- it seemed like a Ghost thing to do.

Then, you slowly turn and get down on all fours- the sight making Ghost’s poor cock pulse against his thigh as he takes in your slick covered cunt. Fuck, it was slathered all over your thighs- even the butt plug was sticky. Your little cock looked engorged between your folds, throbbing and desperate for him as you lower your shoulders and face to the floor-

And present. Like the perfect puppy he shaped you to be.

“Please? Please? I’ve been good- you love me, don’t you? Simon- I love you Simon, please fuck me,” your warbled whines are like heaven in his ears, loud enough that he could pick up on every lovely note even with his shite hearing.

Ghost can’t help it, can’t help giving you what you want then as he shucks his bloody pants off, collapsing behind you to his knees so hard it rattled the floor. He tapped his already half hard cock against your soaking folds and shifting up the plug. You keen, wiggling so perfectly as he slowly sinks into you- fuck, you’re so right. Your hole just swallows him up, exactly what he needed after a long day at work.

“Fuck- love you too mutt- that’s my good boy,” he hissed out, pitiful moan leaving his mouth when he finally bottomed out. The plug was snug, rubbing his cock through the thin wall between your pussy and your ass deliciously. Everything he wanted, everything he needed.

You let out the sweetest, most satisfied moan- arms collapsing beneath you as you finally feel whole again. You were so happy, so full and warm again- full of Simon, Simon, Simon. Giggling when his hips started to move against you, choking on a gasp when he snatched you up by your collar and pulled your back to his chest. Licking up the side of your face, making you whine out in annoyance- only for it to turn to a yelp at a particular harsh thrust.

“Good puppy- good puppy, aren’t you? Don’t even- need to keep you locked up when I’m not home anymore, no accidents huh? Just- a good- dumb- mutt-“ he groans against your hair. Your hands scramble to hold on as he brackets his arm around your neck, your favorite collar. Your teeth sunk into his arm, slobbering over the other teeth mark scars you’d left there as you moan and drool.

“What, too dumb to think? Too happy to speak, that it? Poor little runt, missin’ my cock so much when I go out. Remember when you used to cry when I fucked you? Remember when you used to pretend you didn’t like it, mutt? Stupid thing, thinkin you could lie. Now look at you- I can feel how close you are,” his voice rumbled in your ears, making you whine.

Fuck- you did remember. You were just a stray back then, didn’t know better when you asked to leave. Silly, there was no where else to go- why would you leave the big strong arms that were choking you out right now anyways? Especially when his cock was ramming against your cervix, tummy curving just right over your ass.

“Mm- fuck- please-“ you slobbered out against the meat of his forearm, letting out a sharp sob when one of his hands moved from your throat down to your little achy cock. He pinches it roughly, gathering slick from your soaked pussy just to jerk you off juuuust the way you liked. You were so cute, wriggling desperately against his touch as your eyes rolled back into your head- teeth clamping down hard enough to draw blood now.

That searing pain- the ecstasy of knowing you were the one to inflict it because of what he was giving you- it sent the man straight over the edge. Emptying his heavy balls, slamming in a final few times as he trembled against you. Of course, shaky hand jerking your little cock off until you came around him with a pitiful moan.

Fuck, his cum just leaked everywhere. Even with your pussy stretched tight around him, it dripped down his taint and your thighs. Too bad he’d sterilized you the first day you got here- otherwise you’d probably have been pregnant by now. You didn’t seem to mind though, practically purring as you sucked and licked up his bloody forearm. Your cunt still milking him, hands rubbing over what you could reach with a satisfaction only Simon could give you.

Slowly, he sat up- bringing you with him to curl you against his chest. Fuck, you were so sweet. Stretching out in his embrace, turning to kiss his scarred and mangled face. He helped you, turning you to him completely while still snug on his cock just so you could wrap your arms and legs around his middle completely. Still squeezing his softening dick, licking and sucking his throat with happy yips.

It's a pretty day today. Wispy clouds here and there. The sun shined, but the heat was pleasant on your skin. It felt nice, especially considering the rain last night. The wind was so harsh, beating on your doors, your windows. It was like a monster was nestled right outside your door, begging to be let in. 

It was a good day, the best you had in a while. A week after, with school piling up, you're distracted with exams and cruel professors. You hate studying in your cramped apartment, with your cheap fan that squeaks and your noisy neighbors, so you've recently taken to sitting outside. Your headphones are in. You're nearly an hour into the chapter, lost in the world of equations.

That's how you don't notice him until he slides into the seat next to you. 

"Hey." He grins. "Been awhile." 

You blink, a little distracted. A nervous smile crawls over your face. 

"Sorry...do we know each other?" You feel like you'd seen him before. He looked gorgeous. Snow white hair. Pretty pale skin, not a single blemish. His sunglasses were tilted down, revealing pretty blue eyes. This is another reminder that all humans were created unequally; jealousy nags at you. 

His smile widens. Odd. It's not fake, but it doesn't feel sincere. You feel like he’s mocking you somehow.

"You don’t remember me? The cafe?" when you continue to look puzzled, it only amuses him further. 

"That's alright. Let's reintroduce ourselves!" He declares, "Gojo Satoru, what's your name?" 

When you don't respond, he pouts. You yelp when Gojo reaches over to grab your headphones, pulling them off your head to examine them. 

"No wonder you can't hear me. If the volume's too high, you could rupture your eardrums," he chides. 

Shocked, you can do nothing but gape at him as he fiddles with the controls. What the fuck was his problem? Eventually, he gives it back, extending a slender arm out to you with a Cheshire grin on his face. Amid your bafflement, you don't realize the significance of your fingers brushing against his own. You don't notice the way his eyes quirk down, the way his smile widens ever so slightly. You timidly snatch your headphones back, grateful he didn't manage to break it. 

By now, any curiosity you had for this man had mostly disappeared. You were now irritated, but you chose not to show it. Instead, you give a timid smile. 

"Listen, I have a lot of studying to do," you say, hoping he'll take the hint. He doesn't. 

"Oh, want me to help?" You're quick to grab your textbooks before he can, clutching them to your chest and trying your best not to send him the most scathing look you've ever given someone. 

"I'm fine." 

He pouts but relents in his torment. Gojo leans back, studying you. 

"You're cute," he finally decides on, "gimme' your number." 

You blink at him. The way he asked, as though he was so certain you'd comply, you wonder just then if anyone had ever told him no before. You decide right then that you want to be the first. 

"No," you respond, starting to pack up. This study session was a lost cause. You're just gonna try to get some peace and quiet in your apartment. 

"Whaaaaat?" He childishly asks, "Why not?" 

"I have a boyfriend." 

"No, you don't," Gojo responds with a grin. You glare, now outright annoyed by his antics. "What's his name, then?" 

You don't answer fast enough. He laughs. Even his laugh is beautiful. You were starting to resent this guy. 

"Fine fine. Break up with your 'boyfriend' and gimme your number. There's this great burger place that opened up just down the street." 

You squint at him, wondering if he seriously just asked you out on a date. Finally, you elect to continue to ignore him, focusing on packing up. He's crazy, you decide on, absolutely bonkers. Who else would wear sunglasses when the sun isn't even out? 

"You're leaving?" he tilts his head innocently. "I'm not that bad, am I?" 

You don't grace him with a response, already walking away. He calls your name (back then, you didn’t notice he already knew your name despite you never telling him), but doesn't attempt to follow. Thank God.

You know his type: brash, aloof, thinks he can just get what he wants. He was probably a spoiled rich kid too, judging by the fancy watch casually hanging on his wrist. In other words: insufferable. 

Hopefully, that'll be the last time you ever saw him. The campus is huge. There's no way you'd ever run into him ever again, right? 

~

The universe, it seems, wanted to torture you. 

Gojo was everywhere now, a constant presence in your life. No matter where you went, he'd always manage to 'run into you'. You can't go to that cafe anymore because he's always there. If you linger a minute too long in any given area on campus, Gojo will miraculously pop out of nowhere. You unwillingly learned plenty of things about the guy from your forced time with him. He came from a religious tech school, he wants to be a teacher, he’s two years your junior, he was majoring in education, he liked sweets, he hated spicy foods, his favorite animals were dogs, blah, blah, blah. 

A few weeks later, your friends even started to recognize Gojo. 

"There's a party at Ina's house." Mika said. "You going?" 

"Probably." You say, still scrolling on your phone. She shifts from her place on the bed, eyeing you. 

"Will your boyfriend also be coming?" 

That's what made you pull your gaze away from your phone. You glowered at her. She giggled. 

"He's not my boyfriend." You mutter for the nth time. 

"Can I take him off your hands, then?" Mika volunteers eagerly. 

 "Please." 

She makes a disgruntled sound and collapses back into the mattress. You frown when she throws a pillow in the air. 

"I would if I could, but the guy only has eyes for you." She groans. "God, the way Gojo follows you around like a lovesick puppy is so cute. I wish I could have someone like that in my life." 

You roll your eyes. Mika scoffs. 

"You should be enjoying this more." She scolds you. "He's hot. And rich—have you seen his car?" 

You have. The sleek black looking thing he’s in whenever he pulls by the sidewalk, asking if you wanted a ride. You always declined.

You always say no to him. Getting coffee with him? No. Going over to his place to study? Never. Want to share this calorie-high cake with him? Absolutely not. Your rejections never deterred him. If anything, it only spurred him on. It made you wonder if he was just doing this just to mess with you. It was the only conclusion that made sense. you were pretty, but you don’t consider yourself love-at-first-sight worthy.

“I really don’t get you, he’s the entire package!” Mika complains more at your silence. “How can you just ignore him like that?”

Inwardly, you agreed with her. Gojo was easy on the eyes, and you’d usually be superficial enough to overlook his personality, at least for a night. But you just can’t shake off the feeling of wrongness. It’s not fear, it’s just....he’s off somehow. Hiding something. You don’t know why you feel that way, considering the man seems more than willing to tell you his STNS. You just do.

Ina promised you it would be subtle, but it didn’t take long for the party to get out of hand. Gojo popped up, of course, followed by the group of friends you’d always seen him hanging out with. It didn’t take long for him to find you. You were standing outside, a plastic cup in your hand when he stepped beside you.

“Hey,” he gives an easy smile. You barely toss him a glance. Just when will he get the hint already?

“Your friend seems like she’s having fun back there.” He glances over his shoulder. From the window, you can spot Mika doing something she’d be mortified of sober. You hiss through your teeth, ready to go grab her.

“Nah, let her have her fun.” Gojo grabs your wrist, keeping you in place. Regardless of your general dislike towards him, you don’t flinch. Over the weeks, you’ve grown used to Gojo’s touches. The arms around your shoulders, head pats on your head. He touches so easily, and none so far have been inappropriate. Still, you frown when his hand lingers. You pull your arm away.

Huh. His smile twitched.

“Not your usual scene?” He asks, vaguely gesturing to the house blasting with music.

You shrug, taking another sip from your cup.

“Not really.” You prefer your alcohol a lot stronger, for one. You’re pretty sure this is just Kool-Aid mixed with beer. Gross. You dump it on the grass.

“Not mine, either.” He confesses. You’re surprised by that.

“Really?” You find yourself asking.

Gojo always struck you as an extrovert, but now that you really think about it, he only ever seemed to linger around you. Even the friends he seemed to be surrounded with felt like groupies, there was always a sort of divide between him and them. You couldn’t tell if he instigated it or if they had.

“Yup!” He says cheerily. “So, if we’re both miserable, why don’t we ditch and just—”

“No.” You instantly regret showing him any kind of interest.

“Not like that!” He quickly says. “I mean, unlessifyouwantto, but there’s this great sweets shop right on my street and they’re open extra late!”

You roll your eyes.

“Okay.”

“Really?” Gojo brightens.

“No!” You exclaim. “No, Gojo, I do not want to do anything with you. I’m sorry—so so fucking sorry that you’ve never been told no before, but I don’t like you. I never fucking will like you. Stop trying to buy my affection with shitty sweets, I’m not interested.”

You’ve never yelled at him before, and considering the shock on his face, he clearly hadn’t expected it either. It felt good to wipe that irritating smug look on his face finally. It felt good to yell.

It’s silent for the longest time. Inside, you can hear the music shift. The cheering grows louder.

"Hm, okay," he finally says, "Now, you're starting to piss me off a little." 

He's smiling, but it looks different. Less playfulness. More irritation. 

You gape at him. "Excuse me?" 

“I just don’t get what I’m doing wrong,” he’s saying. “I mean, I’ve tried everything. Why can’t you feel the bond? Is it ‘cuz you aren’t a sorcerer?”

You don’t know how to respond to that. He isn’t talking to you. It’s more like you’re a placeholder, a dummy to vent to.

“Ugh, everything about this is just so frustrating!” He groans. “And my eyes are exhausting me, but if I wear my glasses, I won’t be able to see you.” He runs his fingers through his white hair.

He turns to look at you. “It’s like you think I’m not good enough for you.”

You stare at him. He has the audacity to keep going.

“I’m actively trying here, and you keep blowing me off. It’s not like I’m asking for a blowjob or a quick fuck. Or is that what you typically go for? Hey, I could be that kinda’ guy too. Sleazy, more than happy to bend you over and—”

You weren’t one for violence. Your parents taught you from a young age that using your fists was unacceptable. You are so unconfrontational that you could count on one hand how many times you’ve been in an argument.

The slap was loud.

Both of you stayed still. Your palm was warm. Gojo’s face remained tilted to the left. There was a pink imprint on his cheek.

You came back to yourself when he reached up, pressing his fingers against the spot where you had hit him. Horror filled you. You tried opening your mouth for an apology, but words continued to fail you. You were still stiff, unable to do anything but watch.

You prepared yourself for the backlash. Yelling. Screeching. Maybe an attack.

To your mortification, he moans.

"Fuck," he sighed, "That felt good."

His brilliant blue eyes rolled up in pure euphoria before they drop back down to you.

“Do that again.”

You’d always seen Gojo as harmless. Pesky. Annoying maybe. Despite him following you around everywhere, talking your head off, he wasn’t dangerous.

You’ve never seen Gojo as a threat, until now.

He steps forward. You stumble back.

You were right the first time. He was crazy. He was absolutely insane. You should’ve gone with your instinct.

Gojo doesn’t follow you back inside. You slam the patio door, ignoring the way Ina complains and how harsh you were with his property. You say nothing to him. You say nothing to Mika nor anyone else. You just slide out the front door, fumbling with your car keys.

It isn’t enough.

Even when you’re miles away, tucked in your home, shivering underneath the blankets. It isn’t enough.

You can still feel his eyes, looking infinitely through you.

~

Days later, and you still say nothing.

The change is more than apparent. Gojo doesn’t bother you anymore. It makes it worse, a little. You see him around campus, in that friend group of his. He’s talking and laughing, but you feel like his eyes are always on you.

You cut down everything. You only go out for classes. You barely see your friends anymore. Social interactions slow to a halt the more you huddle in your room. Safe. Away from his eyes.

The more distance you gain from that day, the more you wonder if you just dreamt all that. Maybe you were drunker than you originally thought. The sudden switch up, the look in Gojo’s eyes. That couldn’t have been real.

You will yourself into that safe sense of security for a few more days. Eventually, you get better. You laugh it off when people ask you why you went no-contact for nearly a week. You start meeting up with friends again. Gojo doesn’t appear.

And then one day, you wake up in a bed that isn’t yours, with your legs bound and horribly naked.

Panic. You feel it come up your throat, out your mouth as you thrash wildly around.

“Careful there!” A cheery voice tells you. “Might hurt yourself.”

Anger mixed with adrenaline and fear is a horrible thing. You can’t even see him but you’re hissing regardless.

“What the fuck. What the fuck.” You shriek. Gojo smiles even wider. 

“I missed your voice.” He coos, lovingly. “I just couldn’t wait anymore. I need you. I need you. The bond burns when you're not around.” 

He drops into the mattress, immediately straddling you. You take your chance, reaching out with your hands. Violence itches at your palms. 

You reach out with your nails and dig, right onto his face. You rip past his eye, all the way down his cheek. 

You expect a scream, a jerk, pain. 

He just moans. Something hard presses up your thigh. 

Blood drips from his face. He can barely open his right eye but he’s smiling so wildly it reminds you of that night. 

That’s why he didn’t bind your hands. He wanted this. 

“You’re starting to get it.” He whispers as blood trickles down his grinning lips. It splatters over your bare skin. 

There’s a sound of clinking metal as he unbuckles his belt. He's taking your hand, pressing it up against his bloodied face. His eyes close and he shudders.