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helloilikepurple · 2 months

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DC X DP - DeAged

The Nasty Burger explosion took a lot from Danny.

Stopping Dan meant nothing when Danny lost everything. His friends, his parents, his sister, his teacher - all gone. Danny, desperate to not become Dan, fled. He would not let Vlad destroy the only thing he had left; himself. He didn't turn human again if he could avoid it. Let Danny Fenton die with his family.

He did what he could, trying to keep it all together. Avoid Vlad. Catch havoc-wreaking ghosts. Try to not have a panic attack every time he saw his reflection. FentonWorks became out-of-bounds. No one was sure how to turn off the portal or any of the house's defence mechanisms so it was taped up instead.

Danny kept the GIW away. They wanted his parents' research, even if they had to bend the law to get it. Danny would not let them have it. Never.

But the GIW was persistent and Danny weak from nearly two months of being Phantom and nothing else. He was so tired. Tired from grieving, from fighting, from wandering around, completely lost and alone.

The GIW got a lucky shot in. Danny went down. He woke up, still ghost, somewhere white. He'd trained himself not to have to turn back. He was grateful he did.

The GIW studied him. Danny did not have the energy to fight back. The will to survive. Curled up in his cell, bloody and becoming less human with every passing day, Clockwork finally intervened.

He could not let the future High King wither away into nothing.

With Nocturn's help, he whisked him away. His world was dying anyway. With no one to maintain the portal, it would soon overload and explode. The radiation would kill all life on Earth, leaving nothing behind, and taking with it the potential for new life. One world among infinite realities meant nothing. But Danny, as High King, is a singularity. A unique existence, only found in one reality. Clockwork, for the sake of everything that lives and dies, could not let Danny fade away.

Danny slept at the Far Frozen, dreaming of his family, his friends, and the stars he would one day rule over. He healed, wounds knitting together into scars and fractured core slowly, ever so slowly, repairing itself. A future Ancient, bound to protect all that is and will be, was bound to be very badly hurt from such a loss.

Clockwork only wished he could have done more, but to remove Danny too early would have spelt disaster worse than the deaths of billions. This boy would someday be someone he'd proudly call his grandson. Seeing that future alone was enough to make his own core ache for the young one.

The Infinite Realms wept for its child, still but a babe yet having suffered so much. It embraced its future King, blessing him with its loyalty and adoration. The ghosts of the realms, spread far and wide over distant realities, timelines and worlds, felt the loss too.

Danny healed, unaware of how loved and precious he was to so many - how far he was from alone. The dead's sudden quiet unsettled many. Enemies froze in the silent mourning, animosity forgotten. Raging wars came to abrupt ends. So many, unable to bear the ever-reaching, unidentifiable pain in the air killed themselves. Good, kind people cried alone.

Magic users, like Constantine and Zatanna, hid, waiting out the Infinite Realm's despair for its child. No one spoke of it, for fear of disrespecting the dimension between dimensions. But they hid, and they waited, and they couldn't help but worry for themselves and everything and everyone else.

Danny got a lot of visitors. Ancients, regular ghosts, crowded around his bed, gifting him blessings and support. Danny slept, he healed, and his world died, taking with it all he'd known. He wouldn't remember or know of any of this when he woke - even the memories of his pleasant dreams will have left him. He'll awaken and think himself entirely alone.

But he'll know, someday.

Clockwork will make sure of it.

---

Danny doesn't know where he is or who he is.

He has a vague idea. His name. His life and his death. But so much is so distant, like impressions on sand, washed away by the ocean. He knows he should be bigger. He knows this isn't home. He knows there is no home anymore.

He knows there are people he misses, but he doesn't know who they are or where they've gone. He knows so little yet so much. White walls and orange hair, green (toxic, writhing green) and hazmat suits, white and black and orange and blue. Expensive, Packers-branded cologne, burning flesh, the scream of an alarm and laughter and fear and hope and love and pain and loss. Disjointed flashes, snippets of another life.

And this isn't familiar - this city and these people. These crowded, filthy streets aren't home, but there's no home anymore so of course they aren't. And maybe Danny should be afraid. He doesn't know where he is, or how he got here. There are people, so tall, walking around him not sparing him a glance. It's loud and smelly and so much to process all at once.

But Danny doesn't care because he's so tired, and he wants nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep the day away. But he doesn't have a home, so obviously he doesn't have a bed either. He looks around for somewhere else to sleep, rubbing at his chest subconsciously as he does.

There, a building, on the other side of the road. The windows are tinted, but the doors open and Danny, through the crowds and passing traffic, catches a glimpse of what has to be a couch. Maybe the people that own the building will let him sleep on their couch for a little bit.

So he crosses the street, sticking close to the legs of some lady with skinny heels that go tap-tap-tap so the cars don't go because they can't see him. The lady turns to go a different way after but it's okay because Danny is in front of the building now.

He pushes the door open and slips inside. It's quieter inside, and warmer. Danny wasn't cold outside but in here there's a nice heat that makes him feel even sleepier. He looks around at the fancy chairs and potted plants and lights, and is happy to see there are couches. Long couches, with lots of pillows and space for him to spread out.

He walks up to the desk. He's too short to see over it, and it makes him kind of angry because he's sure he's supposed to be taller. But he figures maybe he remembers wrong because people don't just shrink. Except, he's a halfa so maybe ghosts do?

"Hello?"

There's a lady here too, behind the desk, but unlike the one he followed across the street she has short, curly hair. Danny wonders if she's wearing skinny heels too. Leaning his head back, he can see her look up, glance around, and then look back down.

Danny pouts. Did she not see him?

"Hello?"

He waves an arm this time, reaching as high as he can to catch her attention. She finally sees him, eyes widening in surprise. "Oh, sorry! Hello." She has a nice voice.

"Your voice is pretty."

She smiles, and Danny decides her smile is nice too. "Why thank you. You have a pretty voice too. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Can I please sleep on your couch? Just for a little bit."

"Of course you can. Would you like a blanket? I could fetch one for you from the staff room."

Danny shakes his head. "I'm okay. Thank you."

"Alright. But if you change your mind, do tell me."

"You're very nice."

"Thank you, but it's really no problem. Not much to do today anyway."

"You should sleep too then. Sleep is good."

She giggles. "That is a very good idea. I just might take your advice." Danny nods. He has lots of good ideas. "Okay. I'm gonna' go nap now. Bye-bye."

"Sleep well."

There are a few couches, and for a bit Danny's not sure which one to sleep on. He chooses the one with the most pillows. It's very comfy, and the pillows are nice too. He puts one under his head and hugs another, curling up around it. He falls asleep in seconds.

When a toddler with black and blue eyes asked to sleep on one of the couches on in the reception hall of Wayne enterprises, May had assumed he was one of Bruce's boys. He certainly fit the type Gotham's favourite playboy liked to adopt, and it wasn't unusual for his wards to show up out of the blue.

Once she found Tim Drake passed out on the floor under her desk. Apparently, he'd been hiding from Dick who was visiting from Blüdhaven and forgot to bring his coffee with him, consequently falling asleep while he waited for her to arrive so he could ask her to go pick some up for him. That had been an interesting Thursday morning.

On another memorable occasion, Cass, Bruce's only official daughter, and her girlfriend Steph had shown up, said hi, went upstairs, then came back down after about an hour, giggling as they ran out with a wave goodbye. Not even ten minutes later, Bruce himself stumbled out of the elevator, absolutely covered in purple glitter. May remembers raising an eyebrow and asking if Bruce wanted her to have another suit brought in.

He'd ended up collapsing on one of the couches with an exhausted sigh, and said he'd have Alfred pick him up instead. He left a sparkly trail behind him when he walked, and the couch he sat on had to be replaced because, even after numerous cleaning attempts, no one could get the glitter out. He had glitter in his hair for months afterwards.

So, May hadn't bat an eye when the little boy came in. Well aware Bruce had several meetings scheduled that day, she sent him an email saying one of his kids was taking a nap in the reception hall and resolved to look out for the boy herself. Throughout the day, she made sure to check on him often, making sure no one picked him up ran (this was Gotham after all).

He slept soundly for most of her work day, barely shifting. She ended up putting a blanket on him herself during her lunch break and leaving him a water bottle and little snack for when he woke up. She also made sure security kept an eye on him whenever she left for whatever reason.

It was well into the afternoon when Bruce finally replied to her email and asked if his kid was still sleeping downstairs. She said yes, and not long after he arrived on the ground level. He walked up to her desk and asked if his kid had caused her any trouble. She smiled and assured him no.

Then Bruce asked where Tim was.

"Sorry? Tim isn't here today."

Bruce frowned, looking just as confused as she felt. "My apologies. You said one of my wards was asleep here. I assumed it was Tim."

"Oh! No, no, it's not Tim. Well, I don't actually know his name but the little guy has been here since this morning." She gestured to the toddler in question.

Bruce turned around, saw him, and frowned. "He's not one of mine."

"He's not?"

"No. Are you sure he's not an employee's child?" He kept his eyes on the boy, eyes narrowed in thought.

"Yes, I am. Only three employees brought in their children today, and all of them are ten or above. He can't be older than five." She frowned now too, turning to her computer to double check. "I'll send out a company-wide email to be sure. I should have done this sooner. I'm sorry, I was just so sure he was under your care."

"It's alright, May. I'm not upset. I'm just worried about him. When about in the morning did he get here?"

She glanced up, but Bruce was still looking at the sleeping boy. "A little after nine."

"And he's been sleeping all that time?"

"Yes, as far as I'm aware."

"Alright. Thank you for looking after him. I'll take it from here."

"Of course, sir. I'll reach out to you if anyone identifies him."

He nodded appreciatively and walked over to the boy. She watched, frustrated with herself. She's worked as one of Wayne Enterprise's receptionists for over four years. She should have known better than to just assume some random, black haired blue eyed child was Bruce's kid. She should have at least reached out to make sure that was the case.

She sighed as Bruce knelt down by the couch and gently shook the little boy awake, resting her head in the palm of her hand. This poor child. His poor parents. They must be worried sick.

She has to make this right.

---

#dc x dp #dcxdp #danny gets deaged for his own health #bruce adopts him #danny's memories are messed up because he's little #danny wakes up and calls bruce “daddy” cause he looks like jack #bruce has a heart attack #alfred raises an eyebrow at bruce when he comes home with danny #"another one #danny wants to be astronaut #dick tries to adopt danny hismelf but bruce got first dibs #danny is adorable #danny phantom #danny fenton #nasty burger explosion happened #orphan danny

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hp-hcs · 6 months

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i didn’t realize the riddle brothers were a "buy one get one free" type of deal, but alright — simp! overprotective! yandere! riddle brothers x gn! oblivious! bullied! slytherin! reader

requested by 🎀!

2.5k words, not to brag 😌

i love writing the bros’ interactions with each other as like, actual sibling-core yk? they r just so cutie patootie

the reader's patronus makes an appearance in this, but i tried to make it as accessible to everyone as possible, so it's never explicitly stated what animal it is. it is implied that it’s able-to-fit-under-a-table sized though

also this is totally just pre-slash nothing that interesting happens

warnings: couple mentions of blood, mild descriptions of wounds, implied violence, implied bullying, murder

not edited!! this is my first like, really long fic so constructive criticism is welcome!

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A well-timed shove to the small of your back sent you tumbling down an entire flight of moving stairs.

You groaned as you hit the bottom, sprawled out on your back on the cold stone floor. You laid there for a moment, winded. You could hear the occupants of a nearby painting titter at your gracefulness (or lack thereof), so you rolled your head to the other side to give them an award winning smile and an unabashed middle finger.

You could hear them all grumble about kids these days and how I never would’ve treated my elders this way. You just rolled your eyes at their pettiness.

“Uh…what are you doing?” A decidedly alive voice interrupted your momentary satisfaction.

“Ah- evening, Riddle!” You said cheerily as soon as you recognized the speaker, scrambling to your feet and dusting off your uniform. “Nothing! Just…tripped. Couldn’t see very well in the dark, that’s all.”

Tom blinked, his lips twisted into a frown. “.....Fine. But don’t let me catch you out of bed past curfew again. You’re a Slytherin, for Salazar’s sake. Act like it.”

And that was it. Tom turned on his heel and continued down the hall without another word. Tom Riddle: prefect, teacher’s pet, and obnoxious hardass extraordinaire—he just...let you go, with no threats of detention or loss of house points.

Huh.

~~~

Tom, having just returned from a full night’s shift of prefect hall duty, flopped face-down onto his bed, his cheeks aflame as he let out a muffled shriek into his pillow.

His brother, in the process of getting dressed for the day, paused at the scene in front of him.

“Dude, what’s your deal?”

“L/n,” Tom said by way of explanation, kicking his feet as he shrieked into his pillow again. “They acknowledged me. And they know my last name.”

“Most people know our last name, Tom,” Mattheo rolled his eyes.

“No- you don’t understand,” Tom said emphatically. “L/n is like…the cutest person to ever exist. And they’re so sweet, and smart, and funny, and-”

“And terrified of us?”

“Well…”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, putting his hands on his hips. “You talk about them too much. It’s getting insufferable.”

Tom just scowled and flicked his fingers to cast a wandless spell that straightened Mattheo’s tie and neatened his uniform. “The way you dress is insufferable. Slob.”

Mattheo stuck out his tongue at his brother before ruffling Tom’s hair to purposely mess it up. “Dick.”

“Idiot.”

~~~

Mattheo glanced up at you as you hovered uncertainly by the corner of his desk.

“Can I sit here…?” You mumbled shyly, your cheeks flushing as the pretty dark-haired boy in your year smiled up at you.

“Course!” He grinned brightly before realizing that might have been too enthusiastic of a reply for eight in the morning and quickly tried to cover up his slip. “Uh…Y/n, right? I’m Mattheo.”

“Yeah, I know who you are.”

Mattheo’s stomach dropped.

Fuck, that’s not good.

“You let me copy your homework in third year for that essay on the properties of wormwood, or whatever.” You said offhandedly, like it wasn’t batshit insane to remember that pointlessly tiny detail. “Thank you for that, by the way. Potions sucks ass.”

Before Mattheo could even think, the words left his mouth. “I could tutor you if you want.”

You looked at him oddly, but grinned after a second. “Yeah, sure. That’d actually be really helpful. Snape hates me, man.”

“Really? Even though you’re in Slytherin?”

“Mhm, his baseless nepotism only extends so far.”

Mattheo barked out a startled laugh as your deadpan humor caught him off guard. You just grinned at him in response, causing the tips of his ears to immediately burn bright red.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Um…do you wanna meet in the library after school today? For our tutoring session,” Mattheo hurriedly added.

“Sure, alright.” You shrugged. “See you there.”

He beamed, giving you that stupidly adorable grin once more. “Awesome! Yeah- yeah, cool. Awesome. See you there then.”

~~~

You were still shit at potions.

It had been six weeks of tutoring, and you’d learned pretty much nothing. Although, that wasn’t an issue on Mattheo’s part, but rather on his annoyingly hot older brother’s.

Tom Riddle was surprisingly funny. For someone who gave off almost exclusively stoically austere bastard vibes, he enjoyed cracking jokes and enlisting your help in pulling pranks on his brother a bit too much.

It became your routine. Every Tuesday and Thursday after school, you would meet the two brothers in the library, waste like three hours joking around and getting absolutely no work done, and then going back to your dorm and ranting to your roommate about how fucking cute they are and how you would gladly pay for the opportunity to make out with one- no, both of them.

(Your roommate is so fucking tired of hearing about the Riddles. You’d better buy them a latte and a cake-pop as an apology.)

~~~

You struggled to get up, your legs giving out. You cursed under your breath, putting a hand to your forehead as it throbbed in pain.

It came away sticky with blood.

This wasn’t going to work, you realized belatedly. With what remained of your strength, you were able to reach out and grab your wand, murmuring a quiet, “Expecto Patronum.”

A spectral creature formed in front of your eyes, remaining motionless as it stared at you.

“Go find Riddle,” you mumbled to the Patronus, your eyelids growing heavy.

You barely registered the wispy glowing animal immediately bounding off at your instructions, your vision doubling before your body went completely slack, the wand slipping from your fingers and hitting the tile floor with a clatter.

~~~

Mattheo doodled mindlessly in the margins of his parchment as his brother droned on and on about the properties of willow bark in potions and really, this is important, Mattheo. Pay attention.

“Why isn’t Y/n here yet?” Mattheo asked his brother for the third time.

Tom rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, Matt. Just like how I didn't know when you asked me five minutes ago. Maybe they just don’t want to see your stupid face any more, huh?”

“What if they’re in trouble? Or hurt?” Mattheo worried, chewing on his thumbnail and ignoring his brother’s insult. “They’re never late, Tommy.”

Tom wrinkled his nose at the use of the dumb (albeit endearing) nickname Mattheo gave him when they were children, but the sinking feeling in his gut at hearing his brother’s distressed tone didn’t help to ease the niggling worries at the back of his mind of maybe they are in trouble.

As if on cue, Mattheo shivered as something icy cold brushed against his ankles. He glanced down. A glowing spectral creature nudged his leg, looking up at him expectantly with unnervingly empty eyes.

A Patronus.

Y/n’s Patronus.

~~~

They followed the Patronus down the deserted hall, the animal occasionally pausing to make sure the boys were both still following it before bounding forward again.

The Patronus stopped in front of a bathroom door, giving them both that same unnervingly hollow-eyed stare of expectancy.

Tom gulped and pushed open the door, fearing that he might find the worst.

He did.

~~~

Your eyes cracked open slowly, and you winced at the multitude of stinging and stabbing pains that wracked your body.

You had to blink a couple times for everything to come into focus. You were in a small room with white walls and white flooring, and the gentle dawn illuminated the quiet space with soft rays of light. The steady beep of a vitals monitor faded into the background as you stared down at yourself.

You weren’t wearing a shirt, for one, or even a hospital gown. Pretty much your entire upper torso was wrapped in bloodstained gauze. The jagged edges of a brutal slash across your chest peeked out of the top of the dressings, and you had to close your eyes and hold your breath for a moment to keep from throwing up. Once you’d calmed back down, you opened your eyes, startled to see that you weren’t alone.

Mattheo had pulled up a chair to the side of your hospital bed and crossed his arms on the mattress, using them as a makeshift pillow. His dark lashes fanned across his cheeks, his breaths slow and even. He looked so peaceful and...unguarded in his sleep. You reached down to brush a loose curl away from his forehead.

“Having fun?”

You startled, jerking your hand back.

Tom leaned against the doorframe of your room with an amused expression, quirking an eyebrow and wiggling his fingers in a wave.

“Shut up,” you hissed back in a whisper, your cheeks flaring red.

Tom’s amused grin only grew at your dark blush as he invited himself into your room fully, closing the door behind him.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” He jokingly winked, tapping the side of his nose.

“You’re insufferable.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“What am I doing here?” You quickly changed topics, refusing to even look down in Mattheo’s direction.

Tom sighed, any amusement on his face rapidly vanishing. “You sent us a Patronus, thank Merlin. Pomfrey said you would’ve bled out if you hadn’t.”

You had no memory of casting the Patronus charm at all, but you trusted Tom’s recollection of events better than your own jumbled and spotty one. “Bled out?” You questioned, your heart hammering in your throat as your voice climbed an octave in anxiety.

Tom nodded, his face carefully schooled into a blank and neutral expression. “You were hit with the Sectumsempra spell. You've been out for three days now.”

Your brow furrowed. “Malfoy got hit with that last year though—and was in and out of the infirmary in less than a day.”

“Snape knew the counterspell and found ‘im just in time last year,” Mattheo mumbled sleepily, his eyes still closed as he tuned into the conversation at hand. “But whoever hit you with it just left you there to die.”

“Charming.” You mutter under your breath.

“Regardless of what happened in Malfoy’s instance,” Tom interrupted briskly. “You were on the brink of literal death. So I’ll ask you this one time and one time only. Who did it, Y/n?”

~~~

“I brought you a cookie from the Great Hall,” Mattheo grinned widely, climbing into your hospital bed next to you and unwrapping the napkin in his hand. “And the notes from today’s Charms lesson, but those’re boring and we both know you won’t actually read ‘em.”

“Aww, you know me so well.” You teased, breaking the cookie in half and handing him one of the pieces.

Mattheo cupped the cookie fragment in his hands like it was a priceless treasure, staring down at it in unrestrained awe.

You just shook your head at his antics and brushed the odd reaction off.

~~~

You woke up this morning and just felt like shit. You were nauseous, and dizzy, and felt borderline faint. Tom’s voice, usually soothing and comforting to hear, sounded like nails on a chalkboard right now. He rambled on and on about the delicate process of making the temperamental Felix Felicis potion.

“Tom,” you interrupted, your voice scratchy and quiet. “Can we take a break? Please?”

He blinked, surprised at being interrupted, but nodded slowly. “I suppose…? Why?”

“Don’t feel good,” you mumbled, setting your textbook down and rubbing your eyes.

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Madame Pomfrey said brusquely as she bustled around your hospital room, shooing Tom out of the way to stand by your bedside.

(Poppy Pomfrey remains the only person who can and has shooed Tom Riddle III and lived to tell the tale—and all without a single ounce of fear.)

“I’ve raised your dosage so that you can be out of here in time for your N.E.W.T.s.” Pomfrey elaborated upon seeing your confused look.

“Fantastic.” You mumbled dryly, grinning sleepily up at Tom as he grabbed onto your hand and interlaced your fingers together. He ignored the way his heart skipped a beat in favor of letting you hold his sweaty palm.

“Go to sleep, L/n,” Tom muttered under his breath. “Potions can wait.”

~~~

Tom lay in your hospital bed beside you, running his thumb over your knuckles. “Please? We promise we won’t do anything.”

“Yeah,” Mattheo chimed in from the other side of your crowded bed, one arm tossed over your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Or at least, nothing we’ll get caught for.”

You sigh, tired of their ceaseless pleading. “Alright, alright, fine. I’ll tell you who it was.”

Both boys leaned in close.

You sigh again and roll your eyes at their overprotectiveness. “Alright, it was-”

~~~

Tucker Thompson and Devin Dobbs: Gryffindor Sixth Years Found MURDERED at Hogwarts! Dumbledore: “No comment at this time.”

You tilted the newspaper so Madame Pomfrey could read the article over your shoulder as she replaced your IV bag.

Pomfrey just sighed and rolled her eyes. “I don’t understand how Skeeter is still employed at the Prophet.”

“Cause shock value will always hold weight in the media?” You answered dryly around a mouthful of depressingly plain infirmary wing toast. “And Skeeter’s good at nothing if not coming up with bullshit shock value titles.”

“That may be true,” she began, snatching the paper from your hands. “But patients shouldn’t be reading about such dark subjects, and certainly not while under my care. And don’t talk while eating. I rather like your company, and would hate to see you choke.”

You rolled your eyes at her suffocatingly motherly behavior. “So are they? Thompson and Dobbs; they’re really dead?”

Madame Pomfrey hesitated.

You let out a relieved breath of air that you tried (and failed) to hide behind a cough. “That’s…terrible.”

She narrowed her eyes and studied you for a long moment, her fingers mindlessly worrying the deckle edge of the newspaper in her hands. “It was them, wasn’t it? Your boys.”

“My boys?”

“Yes, yes, Riddles one and two. Your boys.”

“Oh- we’re not…”

She raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips as she tried to hold back a laugh at the utter obliviousness of teenagers. “Do they know that, dear?”

You spluttered out a half-assed rebuke to her statement, but Pomfrey quickly interrupted you.

“They’ve been staying here for hours every day for the last month. They want more than just your friendship, hon.”

“No way. We’re just friends.” You insisted firmly. “That’s all.”

Madame Pomfrey rolled her eyes. “Uh huh. Friends. Keep telling yourself that.”

You stared after her, open-mouthed in bafflement, as she rolled up the Prophet, tucked it under her arm, and turned around without another word—leaving you with zero reading material and a million questions.

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you have to love how pomfrey could not give less of a fuck that the riddles murdered two students as long as she gets her ot3 absolutely iconic behavior

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literaila · 7 months

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slip-up

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: megumi says something he's not supposed to

warnings: bit of sad megumi (same babe), gojo is a terrible comforter, reader doesn't get a lot of screen time but she's always there, a good lack of conflict resolution

a/n: the one-shot that started this series. i figured it was time to give it up

last part | next part

year four.

megumi doesn't notice the slip-up right when he says it. he's not even really paying attention to the conversation.

instead, he's thinking about the homework assignment he was supposed to turn in today--the one that gojo refused (couldn't) help him with.

"my mom usually drops us off," he's telling his teacher, trying to be polite like you taught him and not start whining (like gojo taught him). "but she's out of town right now, so gojo dropped us off instead and he gets the times confused..."

in all honesty, megumi could blame this whole thing on gojo. because it was his fault.

usually, you woke him and tsumiki up, pulling on his hair when he whined into the pillows, packing their lunches while they both sat at the table, eating cereal or tamagoyaki. usually, you reminded megumi to tuck in his shirt and helped the two of them get their books together, taking an occasional moment to shout at megumi's budget dad to get up before he was late. usually, you walked them to the door, kissing them both goodbye and watching both of them until they closed the door.

later on, you'd be there again, welcoming them home with another smile, asking about their days. forcing them into a thorough recap.

but today megumi woke up with a sore neck and gojo smiling at him, asking if he was planning on being buried in his bed.

because even though megumi heard you tell gojo that he needed to help out, step up, the mornings while you were gone, all of you should've known better.

megumi hasn't even ever seen gojo out of bed before nine-thirty.

so here he was, with his shirt untucked, his homework missing, and a bag of lollipops that gojo packed for lunch.

here he was, three hours late for school, trying to explain to his teacher that it wasn't his fault.

and here he was, accidentally calling you mom.

but megumi doesn't even realize that until his teacher smiles a little bit, telling him that she understands, asking him when his mom gets back.

megumi freezes.

the word repeats in his mind, and he finally realizes his slip-up.

sure, he's heard tsumiki call you it before--because for all intents and purposes, that's what you were. after four years of your unconditional love, the two of them knew, truly, that they could depend on you.

but megumi has never had a mom, and he doesn't now.

so it's still gojo's fault when the first tear rolls down his cheek. which megumi promptly wipes away. he's not going to cry--he's not the sort of kid that cries. he prides himself on it, actually. not needing the same sort of attention that he's seen his classmates get, never feeling things that deeply.

but he's crying now, and his neck still hurts as he turns away from his teacher, going to sit down at his desk.

and megumi isn't the type of kid that cries, but when he puts his head down, his cheeks feel a little damp.

megumi's got a headache now--another reason why he doesn't cry--and he sort of wants to curl up in bed until tsumiki gets home, and then convince her to run away with him.

but he doesn't.

when gojo unlocks the door, megumi goes through it without stopping to look around. he drags his backpack to his room--gojo watching the whole time, of course--and closes the door before the man can say anything stupid.

he can't deal with him right now. or ever, actually.

megumi sets his backpack up against the wall with a brief thought about homework and the class he's going to miss because of this, but he doesn't care enough to dwell on it.

everything about him feels stiff, like glue got between the seems of his very core.

he's ten years old. he shouldn't have to worry about anything.

he takes off his blazer, sets it on his desk with sweaty palms, and feels quite naked--even with the layers of clothes and lack of eyes. and his head hurts. megumi wants to get up and restart his day just so he can tell some version of his former self not to be so stupid.

but he knows that's just the guilt talking, so he ignores that too.

and it's only ten minutes into his glooming that there's a knock on the door, and gojo doesn't knock, so megumi knows immediately that something's wrong.

he's lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, but he leans up on his elbow when you peek your head into the room.

for a brief moment, megumi is so relieved to see you that he almost jumps up and clings to you--like some child would.

he wants to hold onto you and beg you not to leave again, because everything seems to go wrong when you’re not there. he wants to tell you that he’s scared, and that he’s not sure what to do.

but he refrains, and blinks idly, confused about why you're here, and why his heart hurts just from looking at you.

“hey, you okay?” you whisper, taking a step into the dark room. you don't look banged up, and megumi wonders what gojo said to get you to come home. he probably told you that megumi was dying, or something.

you sit on the edge of his bed, and your hand is on his forehead before megumi can blink. “you feel sick?”

megumi nods, but his eyes don’t meet yours. it's a small enough lie.

“i’m sorry. did satoru give you any medicine?”

“did you have to come home for me?”

you smile, slightly. “no, buddy, don’t worry. it was easier than they said, just a grade one. plus i kinda rushed it cause i missed you guys.” you push his hair out of his eyes, “now, medicine?”

“i don’t want any.”

“if you don’t feel good—“

“actually,” he interrupts. “can—i, um, i don’t really want to talk.”

you pause, eyes roaming over his face. “oh. okay. that’s fine.”

you remove your hands from him immediately, walls of metaphorical space flying up between the two of you. “i’ll leave you alone. just ask if you need anything, okay? i’m going to go unpack.”

he nods and you give him a little grin.

and right as you're at the door, he falters. he doesn’t really want you to go. he wants you to crawl into bed with him, treat him like he's actually sick, and let him lay with his head in your lap. he wants to ask you the same question that's been in his head since he said it, but he can't.

“y/n?” he whispers, instead, your name feeling wrong in his mouth.

“yeah?"

“will... will you get gojo?" he asks, even though it's not what he wants to say at all. "i want to talk to him.”

“gojo?” you frown, looking at him. “yeah. of course, yeah. i’ll go get him. one sec.”

and when you close the door, megumi feels like he’s said something wrong. slipped up again.

he sits there and waits, feeling incorrect in his body. he wants you to come back and tell him that it'll all be fine, but he knows that you won't. if there's one thing you're good at, it's respecting boundaries.

and megumi has a lot of them.

gojo doesn’t knock when he comes into the room, and megumi is so lost in thought that he jumps as soon as the door clicks open.

megumi’s neck flies as he looks at him, wide eyes. he's already sat up, preparing himself for an influx of anger.

“is this about your lunch?” gojo asks, immediately, words fast and smooth. “because that wasn’t my fault. i thought your school did that.”

“you bought us our lunchboxes,” megumi argues, “you made me get the weird one with the dragon.”

“do not insult dracomon like that.”

megumi rolls his eyes. “whatever.”

“so, you wanna talk to me, huh?" gojo sits on megumi’s desk chair, legs hanging off the sides. “i think this is the first real conversation we’ve ever had.”

megumi rolls his eyes again.

gojo waves a hand. "alright. what is it?"

megumi pauses. he can't ask gojo. even if he had an answer, it would be the least trustworthy version of one.

he scratches his neck, not sure how to lie about this. knowing that he's not supposed to lie in the first place.

he's doing everything wrong today.

gojo shakes his head, white hair the victim of many fashion crimes. “spit it out, kid. i just did you a huge favor, and i don’t have time for the attitude.”

“you didn’t do anything,” megumi frowns, crossing his arms.

gojo snorts. “you think they just say ‘come get your child’ when you’re crying at your desk?” he asks, rhetorically, and megumi’s face goes still. “no, they disrupted my nap, saying that you needed to be picked up and handed me a card for a child psychologist.”

“they told you?”

he nods. “and i didn’t tell y/n,” he grins, self-satisfied. “so you’re welcome.”

“why not?”

“because she would’ve freaked out, and i don’t need that, and i’m pretty sure you don’t want that…”

megumi nods immediately.

“it can stay our secret if you tell me what’s going on. i’ll edit the report when y/n asks,” then he turns, looking at the door. “even though she’s already listening in.”

“really?” megumi bites the inside of his cheek, checking the crack under the door for feet.

satoru kicks him. “no. she’s in her room. now, talk. i don’t know how long she’ll take.”

megumi swallows. he doesn’t really want to ask—not his only real question—but he’s already gotten this far.

at least it doesn't matter what he says, because no one will believe anything gojo makes up anyway.

“megumi…” gojo prods.

“do you know where my mom is?”

there’s a pause. a very long pause where megumi feels like he’s being scrutinized.

he can tell that gojo is looking at him very closely, a microscope to megumi’s cell, even though he can’t see his eyes.

“i—“ gojo pulls a strand of hair by his ear. clearing his throat. “i, um, im not sure. why?”

“no reason.”

there’s a very weird wince on the man’s face. “do you want to… talk about them? your… parents?”

“no,” megumi says immediately.

gojo sighs. “look, i’ll tell you if you really want to know—“

“i don’t care. i just… i don’t care.”

“…okay.”

“okay.”

the two of them are both lying. they have the same neck-scratching, and looking away tells. if you were in the room, you would be monitoring both of them very harshly. probably scolding them for the look on both of their faces.

gojo’s expression is so much weirder than megumi’s ever seen it. “are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“i just wanted to know if you knew,” megumi says, crossing his arms, then doing it again. “i don’t care about them. they don’t care about me.”

“well, i don’t know that—“

“no. you and y/n took us in and they didn’t care. so why should i?”

“right.” gojo nods. “right we… took you in.”

megumi nods, as a finality, and then deflates a little bit.

he doesn’t care about his mom—whoever she is, wherever she might be. he doesn’t. he just… also doesn’t want to replace her.

it feels wrong to think about. she doesn’t care about his life, so why should he care about hers?

it's a stupid sort of guilt. if tsumiki said anything like it, megumi wouldn't talk to her for a week.

but it's the sort of guilt over you, and a woman he knows nothing about. someone he doesn't really want to know about.

maybe that makes it worse.

“did someone say something at school?”

megumi frowns. “no. why would they?”

gojo shrugs. “kids are jerks,” he answers, simply, and then mutters “i would know…” under his breath, making megumi want to punch him again.

“no one said anything.”

“then why were you crying this morning?”

“i wasn’t crying.”

“hey,” gojo frowns. “crying is fine. it’s good.”

“i know,” megumi crosses his arms.

“okay, then.”

megumi doesn’t even know why he wanted to talk to gojo in the first place.

“look,” gojo sighs, his fingers tapping along the body of the chair. he whispers something that sounds suspiciously like “y/n is so much better at this,” and then meets megumi’s eyes—metaphorically, of course. everyone knows that gojo doesn’t have any eyes. “if you want to talk about your parents, we can talk about them. tsumiki asks questions every once in a while. and…” he breaks away, shaking his head. “if there’s something i don’t know, then i'll—we’ll figure it out. i’ve got eyes everywhere.”

gojo is grinning at his little joke, but megumi’s frown deepens.

"i don't care about them," he says, again, as a reassurance to them both.

"they are your parents, you know?" he holds his hands up in defense, probably from the glare megumi is giving him. "i'm just saying. curiosity is normal."

"how would you know?"

gojo sighs, tilting his head back. he looks almost hurt. "i'm wise. i've got years of experience on you."

"no, you don't."

he shakes his head. "now i'm going to start crying."

megumi stares at him. if he could trade gojo for literally anyone else in the world, he would.

and yet, he doesn't want to talk to you about this. he doesn't want to talk at all. and he does.

at least he knows that gojo won’t take any of this too seriously. that he won’t get to the bottom of the problem, like neither of them wants.

"do you think..." megumi starts, whispering. "do you ever regret taking us in?"

gojo swallows. he looks almost hesitant to answer, but megumi knows that must be wrong. gojo has never hesitated a moment in his life.

"well, you guys are pretty mean to me. but no, we don't regret it. why would we?" he asks, teasing, like always. "children are for chores."

megumi shakes his head.

"you should--" gojo scrunches his nose. "i can get y/n. she's got better answers, anyway."

"no!" megumi holds his hand out when the man begins to move from the chair, heart racing. "i don't want to talk to her."

"did something happen with you guys? you think someone might mention it to me..."

"no, nothing happened. i just... want to talk to you."

gojo snorts, but he sits back down. "whatever you did, i'm sure it's not that bad. remember that time i set tsumiki's hair on fire when she was gone? that was bad."

"i didn’t do anything. i'm not like you," megumi scowls, looking away.

"would you like a reward?" gojo asks, dryly. "most people wouldn't openly admit that. i admire your confidence."

both of them are silent, megumi considering the consequences of just saying the words out loud, nonetheless to gojo--who definitely won't know what to do with them.

after a minute, gojo clears his throat. "okay, megumi. my turn. do you regret coming here with me? instead of going with your family? you'd be clan head someday, you know."

"that place with the freaky shed of weapons you showed me?"

"yup."

"no," megumi doesn't have to think about that. "tsumiki's with me here. and i--"

i like it here, he almost slips. i love you guys.

megumi sighs. he doesn't want to say that to gojo.

but the older man looks like he already knew what he meant, a dumb smile on his face. "good. okay. well, i don't know what's wrong with you," he gives megumi a pointed look, saying that he actually does. "but i'm sure it'll all work out. you've got me here, so there's nothing to worry about. and y/n would kill me if anything happened to you, so. don't worry about your parents, kid."

megumi blinks at him. because his problems can be summed up with a quick "yeah, that's cool."

he rolls his eyes.

gojo's hand nudges his knee. "you can still ask if you want. anytime. we love you, you know? y/n more than me, but still..."

megumi shakes his head. "well i love her more than you."

"good. tsumiki's my favorite anyway."

"good. she's the only one who can deal with you."

"good," gojo retorts, like a child.

he leans in, ruffling megumi's hair as he does it. "even if you are pretty annoying, i'll still do some research for you. see about your mom."

"you don't have to--"

"i can't pick you up every time you're crying in class," gojo shrugs, so simply. definitely a joke in the words, but no teasing. "and i won't tell y/n. but you should talk to her. she worries."

"i know."

gojo smiles. "okay. as long as you know."

the two of them sit there for a while more, gojo making an awful comment every couple of lapses in silence, megumi answering with an equally sarcastic retort, and the two of them not minding at all.

and megumi still can't get the question out--are you his mom?--but there's the undeinable feeling that no one else can answer it for him anyway.

and gojo seems to know that, so he doesn't say anything about it. just lingers there, like an illness, waiting until megumi is okay, or maybe waiting for him to ask something else.

even though megumi doesn’t want to give the man any credit, he knows that gojo understands a lot more than he lets on. and, just from the weird little prideful looks he gives him every time he says something, megumi knows that he probably gets what this is about.

but if gojo isn’t going to say anything, then neither is he.

still, it’s nice to have him here.

there’s no comforting glances, or squeezing of hands with gojo. no acute words and adept gestures.

megumi has never expected gojo to overcome his tendency towards immaturity, or to become something that he’s simply not.

but there is just this. just the man who’s been there for long enough for megumi to notice. to understand that he’s not going away so easily.

and it’s nice to have you both. (megumi won’t admit that the gratitude he has for his makeshift parents is much stronger, more vehement than any worry about biology, or being left behind).

eventually, megumi's eyes begin to droop, and even though his headache is less stress-induced, it's still there, a gentle pounding at his skull.

like a reminder that things are going to change, even if he doesn't want them to. that he's growing up, and he can't protect everyone from his emotions forever.

but megumi doesn't have enough energy to think about it. so he lays down against his pillows, eyelids fluttering open and closed.

and he can just see it when gojo sneaks out of the room, whistling softly as he leaves, purposefully leaving the door open.

megumi should've gone to live with that clan.

"hey," you stand from your chair, looking not at satoru, but behind him, like the essence of their conversation is going to follow him through the door. "what'd he want? is he okay?"

you dance on your feet awkwardly, looking like you were waiting that whole time (you were).

satoru smiles, leaning on the counter to stare at you, at your nervous little lip bite. "he's fine."

"is he feeling really sick? he told me he didn't want any medicine, but if he's got a headache or something, then i could give him a pain reliever. did he seem bad? should we take him to the doctor? i can probably schedule an appointment--"

you're cut off by satoru as he nears you, crushing you against his chest in a hug so tight that it knocks the air from your lungs.

seriously, jujutsu sorcerers and their sheer amount of muscle training are ridiculous.

"satoru--" you squeeze out, but he holds you even tighter.

"it's all good," he says like it's an answer, and he sounds like he knows something that you don't. probably because he does.

but after a moment you relax into him. even if you have to bribe him with cuddles, someone's going to tell you what's going on...

next part | series masterlist

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cordeliawhohung · 3 months

Text

the prowl - single dad! Price x teacher! stripper! Reader (fem) taglist

[2] Room 7

You pity every poor woman whose husband has made a quick run to The Florists just for him to return home with glitter on his clothes instead of a bouquet.

It’s been proven time and time again that the only flowers men enjoy are the ones that dance. Soft stems swaying in the faux wind of the club, eye catching color hypnotizing them into staying for the show. They enjoy the layers. Those soft stigmas that protrude from the core. They enjoy toying with them; picking the petals off one by one until they get the answer to their question.

“Chrysanthemum! You’re up!”

Rich ochre flashes behind you in the mirror as Chrys passes by to get to the stage, and she takes care to playfully slap the exposed flesh of your ass on her way. Grinning, you twist in your scanty attire, teeth framed perfectly with blood-red lipstick.

“Keep doing that and I’ll have to follow you home,” you tease.

Looking over her shoulder, Chrys chuckles. “Yeah, says you and everyone else in this joint. Don’t worry, love, I’ll warm them up for you.”

She vanishes from the room just in time for someone to douse themselves in thick, expensive perfume as if it’s disinfectant. It’s thick and floral — which is fitting, considering the theme of the club — but it’s utterly unwelcomed. It invades your lungs, and you fight the urge to cough lest you ruin your perfectly applied lipstick.

Fog grows on the full length mirror as you huff against it, fixing the corner of your false lashes before stepping back to take a look at yourself. Having worked as an exotic dancer for some time now, there is very little you’re self conscious about. Red, yellow, and periwinkle lingerie press your tits together and compliment your ass to turn you into the perfect sex toy — beautiful petals to be gawked at by the men surrounding the stage you’re about to dance on. Caked on makeup coats your features so thickly your own face can hardly shine through, and the synthetic curls of icy blue hair down your back render you unrecognizable.

Right now, you are not Miss. Lolly. You are not the darling primary school teacher in a pretty dress, lecturing students about dinosaurs and maths. You are something else — someone else.

“Why don’t you just date him? You guys are already shagging in the back anyway.”

“Are you trying to get me fired? Keep your fucking voice low.”

There’s no need to look behind you in order to see who’s talking; you’re more than well aware of Daisy’s… situation. A secret lover with cash to burn and emotions to spew. Borderline prostitution isn’t exactly highly regarded in this industry. It could get the club in severe legal trouble if it was found out one of the dancers gave away more than a quick grope, but all the flowers at The Florists know how to keep their pretty lips sealed shut.

“The only reason we fuck is because he has good dick and gives amazing tips,” Daisy explains as she twirls her bleach blonde hair around her finger.

“In more ways than one, apparently,” Dahlia chimes in as she applies fresh lip gloss.

“Oh, aren’t you cheeky.” Daisy rolls her eyes. “And the reason I refuse to date him, despite how drop dead gorgeous he is, is because I think I would rather die than listen to his woe-is-me moaning, groaning, and complaining every waking moment of the day if I had to live with the man.”

“No amount of looks can drown out self centeredness,” Dahlia concurs.

Closing your eyes, you drown out their conversation in favor of letting your mind rest for a moment. It’s the only moment you’ve been able to capture for yourself all day. Nerves are still fried deep in your brain, and though the throbbing has subsided into a gentle hum, it’s still there. Pulsing with the music, squeezing the blood from your brain until you can hardly hold a coherent thought. Pain twinges throughout your feet, exacerbated by the too-thin straps of your heels. You’ve been standing for too long, teaching and smiling jovially at your primary students with marker stained fingers from joint art projects you keep pinned to the corkboard next to your desk.

No, you don’t have time to think about Miss Lolly.

You are not Miss Lolly.

“Saffron! Go time!”

That’s you.

Figures shrouded in shadows surround the stage when you saunter up. It’s impossible to make out the features of their faces, but you can see their eyes. There’s always a glint. A fervid shine that shows just how closely you’re being watched. An eerie bloodlust to smell the center of the pretty flower about to perform in front of them.

Hips sway with illecebrous aura drawing out slack jawed expressions from patrons as ushers collect generous tips from them. A nymph come to life, they cheer and whistle at you like dogs — or rather, insects waiting to feast on the flesh of your fibers, pretty petals and all. Still, you dance in the synthetic breeze as you bend and twist for their viewing pleasure. Hips bucking. Sliding on your knees. Tits cupped together with your hands as you press your face against the floor of the stage, ass high in the air.

Your head pounds when you sit back up, blue waves of hair spraying around you like mist. Prismatic lights have you bathing in a wonderland of sexual desires and dreams, and still all you can focus on is the pain. No matter how many sultry smiles you flash, or how long Saffron can hang on the poll in center stage, Miss Lolly is still crying over the marcid grip on her ankles.

If it wasn’t for the rank scent of alcohol and cologne, you would have taken a deep breath in relief after you got off that stage. Instead, you keep up the act. This perfectly crafted persona. Expertly sewn second skin. The ushers quickly hand you the cash you earned for your show, and as you slink back into the dressing room, you find yourself praying you attracted enough attention to earn yourself a few requests for private dances.

Back in the dressing room, you’re quickly counting the cash you’ve earned so far while the girls whistle at your earnings. It’s a good start to what’s bound to be a long, torturous night. Though it’s not as much as you’d like to see by the end of your shift, it’s enough to cover the house fees.

You’re stowing away fresh, hard earned cash into your locker when there’s a sharp knock on the dressing room door. Once the girls give the all clear — meaning that they’re as decent as they can be in lingerie and not buttass naked — one of the coordinators opens the door. Tired eyes scan the dressing room, until they land on you.

“Saffron,” he says, waving a black ticket.

Gold floral embellishments glint in the dim lighting of the room, and your eyes nearly pop out of your head in recognition. You haven’t just earned the opportunity to give a few simple private dances — you’re wanted for a VIP session. A long, private dance filled with booze, special requests, and a high payout for you.

You’re about to make half your rent tonight.

It’s not entirely rare that someone seeks you out for a VIP session, so the hallway that leads to the room isn’t unfamiliar to you. Dark paint coupled with erotic photographs line the walls as your heels click against the marble flooring. Muffled music fades into the background the closer you are to approaching the room. You look down at the card in your hand: Room 7.

Its swirling gold letters match the same font on the door in front of you. With a deep breath, you quickly fix the stray strands of your wig before your hand reaches for the knob on the door.

Rich maroon walls close in on a comfortable room with a lone chandelier as the only source of light. As the door closes behind you, any hint of music dies behind it, and you’re left with nothing but silence and your own breathing as you take in the sight in front of you.

Thick, powerful thighs spread wide in pressed dress pants on a large leather sofa. Their circumference is bigger than your head, you’re sure of it. A wide-palmed hand lazily caresses a glass of bourbon on the side table; your patron has been given special treatment with his own bottle of whiskey and bucket of ice, which means extra cash in your pocket. You trace his body, sizing him up with hooded eyes. His broad chest is hardly contained by his slightly unbuttoned dress shirt, allowing thick curls of dark hair to peek above the fabric.

When you get to his face, you freeze.

Neatly trimmed facial hair, alluring blue eyes — you’ve seen him before. He tilts his head at you, hips shuffling forward to lean further back in his seat, belt buckle catching the light just like it did earlier in the afternoon. He even gives you a quiet smile, one that doesn’t quite curl as much as it usually does, and you feel your stomach twist with bubbling bile.

This is no patron; this is John Price. Your student’s dad.

#john price x reader #price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #the prowl #f!reader

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mamayan · 10 months

Note

yandere jjk? with noncon(your wish) megumi /gojo/toji

Yandere Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro, Megumi Fushiguro x Fem! Darling

cw: Not proof read • Gladiator JJK! • Slave girl reader • Dark • Yandere • NSFW • Fem/AFAB Reader • NONCON turned DUBCON • Punishment • Spanking • Darling has hair long enough to pull • Spitting • Oral/Deep Throating • PIV Sex • Anal/Anal Play • Double Penetration • Gangbang • Praise/Degradation • Humiliation • Dumbification • Overstimulation • Dom jjk men • Sub reader • Kinda fluffy? • Manipulation • Sadistic Satoru (kinda)

wc: A lot? Idk like 4k or more, I did half on google doc and half here lol

Porn with no plot, just straight porn.

“Hey, Meg,” it’s bad. This entire day couldn’t be going more horribly wrong.

“Hn?” A soft grunt for someone covered in so much gore.

“Your old man care we’re in his quarters?” The white haired male had his eyes covered by a strange metal band, one usually connected to a helmet. He wore no head gear though, hardly any armor either. A testament to his confidence and strength.

“He doesn’t.” The dark haired male still dripping blood spoke back, but his eyes didn’t leave your cowering form.

“Well then shall we? I’ve been hard since I won my match. Be a shame to waste good meat when it’s offered up like this.” The vile and leering tone of the white haired devil above you only had your blood going icy. The cool wet stone beneath your aching knees and skinned up palms was a stark contrast to your boiling insides. They spoke as if you were akin to the animals kept beneath the Colosseum, as if you were livestock meant for slaughter and not a living person. You should’ve known better, your Master had been so eager to offer up a servant for the great Gladiator Toji upon the man’s request. It seemed odd to not send a more experienced servant… instead your Master sent you. A lesser slave and much more inexperienced… you now realize why after being sent below the arena you were only used to seeing from above.

Gladiators surely have earned their keep. Muscles and bared teeth, the Gladiators are warriors to their core, ready to spill blood and die at any moment.

A soft thing like you? They wanted to chew up and spit out. Swallow whole. Take you apart piece by piece until you knew nothing of your own name or life before. Except you were Toji’s and that meant something. Well, to everyone but the two younger males standing over you. The white haired male seemingly a bit older than the dark, the two close too as the older one leaned against his younger counterpart with a hand on his hip as he examined you behind his metal eye block. You knew who these two males were. Everyone knew who they were.

Satoru and Megumi, you’d only seen them from afar, not wealthy enough to afford to sit closer to the arena floor. Even from afar they left an impression though, at least on your soul.

Demons.

Creatures from hell which have proven unkillable. Megumi being Toji’s son, while Satoru acted as Megumi’s teacher. They ruled the arena, and it’s not a secret that Satoru is a noble’s son who willingly joined the Gladiators after serving in the Imperial military. Megumi too volunteered for his position, while his father stayed employed working off an endless debt due to a gambling addiction the wealthy enjoy feeding. His mountain of owed cash so overflowing it’s rumored he even owes to the Emperor himself.

Yet it didn’t explain why you were here like this. You’d been told indirectly from a stable hand that Toji wished you to clean and wait in his chambers, private unlike lower classed Gladiators. Instead you’d been grabbed and tossed to the floor by Satoru and spoken about before your very eyes. You weren’t a fool. What they, or at least Satoru wanted, was clear enough.

“I-I’m sorry if I offended m-my lords, p-please forgive—,” you were silenced by a hand raising, a slim perfect finger help up against plush pink lips. Satoru’s lips tilted up in amusement as he eyed you behind his shades.

“Nu-uh pretty, you be good and stay silent while we talk, okay?” He spoke to you as one would address a child, not how a man who was quickly untying his leather breaches might. He ignored your trembling form to return his attention to his pupil.

“She’s cuter close up like this, right Meg?” Satoru teased, happy to free his aching hard cock from the tight confines of his pants. He loved the look of fright in your wide doe eyes, a slight tremor to your bottom lip. “I’ve been craving to sink my cock into your little cunt for a while now.” He’s addressing you again, crouching down to get more to your eye level so you caught a flash of bright blue through the metal blocking his eyes. His grin is sadistic and jovial, sharp canines bared aggressively as he jerks his leaking shaft without shame while watching you.

“P-please don’t—hgh!” Your jaw is gripped in an iron lock by Satoru, who still smiles despite the furrow of his brow.

“Thought I said no talkin’? If I need’a say it again…” he leaves the threat open. You can only tearfully nod the best his grip allows, cheeks smushed and lips pursed cutely while your reddened eyes silently ask for mercy this time. His grip softens minutely, “Good girl~” he praises, smile becoming less vicious as he releases you to stand up again.

“Want her first Meg?” Satoru addresses the silent male, who stares down at you with the same intensity he held the moment you’d entered the chambers.

“Yes.” That chills you more than Satoru’s comment, Megumi’s demeanor more dark and strangely concerning as he steps towards you. You have a few options now, and your mind reminds you that if you don’t act now it’s entirely over for you. Your first option is to simply allow it to happen. You’re a slave with no status, and you’ve had your ownership transferred to a Gladiator in eternal debt with the most violent track record. These two before you have a close connection with your new owner, disobeying could mean death.

Then again obedience could mean it too.

You leapt, lucky enough to escape the hand reaching out to grab you as you sprinted for the door. The thick wooden frame made your muscles scream as you yanked it open, and just as your foot stepped through the threshold, you were yanked back by your hair. A sharp scream echoed off the stone walls, your legs kicking out in protest as you fought back wildly.

Megumi needle only one arm to yank you up off your feet and onto the low platform bed his father occasionally used to sleep on. It’s been weeks though since he’s bothered sleeping in his own chambers, more often than not bought home by a noble woman for the evening after matches to warm their bed for a steep price. He rolled his eyes at your dramatics, easily subduing you with a hand circling your neck and slowly decreasing your oxygen and blood flow.

It made you very compliant, much to his lower half’s enjoyment. The little whimpers and weak hands slapping at his chest were akin to a kitten’s attack.

“Let’s see here~” Satoru hums, quick to grip the fabric of your clothing between two hands and tear it down the middle. It was a useless endeavor to attempt to escape, as they chuckle and strip you entirely naked on the bed smelling of dust, sweat, and blood now. Both males haven’t showered, Megumi’s body the most blood soaked even after stripping. The metallic sour tinge to his masculine scent revolting as you turn your head away in disgust.

“Nu-uh~ bad girl, you keep your eyes on us, or I’ll just remove them from your skull. Okay?” It didn’t matter how terrified you were before, the thought of your eyes being removed had them snapping to the male who threatened you. He’d tossed aside his eye piece, letting you see the visibly beautiful face of a God it seemed smiling down at you. In a way he was a God, or at least blessed by one, his strength and power undeniable but wicked and cruel ways no less. One pale slender finger pressed against the side of your face, just under your eye, and Satoru took enjoyment seeing how quickly you froze up. “Be a good girl now, Meg hasn’t had a woman before, so you’ll both get to have your first! Isn’t that romantic?” It wasn’t, at least to you, but the almost dreamy look in the dark eyed male was unmistakable.

Megumi was certainly in a dream it seemed. How could he not be? You were here, beneath him, and completely naked and vulnerable to do as he pleased. Before today he was certain you didn’t know his name, or if you did it was merely from his matches. He knew your name though, said it a thousand times when he gripped his cock and worked himself over, moaning it while he came nearly every morning. He wouldn’t need to touch his cock anymore though. He had you now. Whether he needed to share you with his teacher or father wasn’t bothersome, it meant you had more eyes looking out for you anyway.

Satoru amused himself with scaring you senseless while Megumi parted your trembling thighs, settling his shoulders between them to keep you from closing them again. “Oh fuck,” he breathed, catching Satoru’s attention.

“Look how wet she is…” Megumi couldn’t bring himself to much else but admire your soaked cunt even as you mumbled quiet pleas and prayers.

“Oh? Are you a little pervert Y/N? Do you like the thought that we’re going to fuck you?” Satoru’s relentless, soft lips pressing close to your ear and whispering his intentions and insults against the shell while you writhe at the feeling of something soft and slimy poking through your folds. His tongue, you realize with a jolt of him licking up, grazing your sensitive little clit. Your gasp doesn’t go unnoticed by either male, and soon a wide chiseled chest blankets you as Satoru captures your lips in a heavy kiss and invasion of your mouth. Megumi focuses on your lower mouth though, fingers digging into the fat of your thigh as he struggles to retain his sanity as he loses himself to your taste and the erotic euphoria filling him. Every little wiggle and moan encourages him on where to lick and suck, and eventually his fingers sneak down and into your quivering wet hole.

“Mhm! P-plea—!” Satoru muffles all protest with his mouth, one free hand playing with your chest while you struggle to avoid the building pressure in your lower belly as Megumi relentlessly attacks your nub and hole. He flicks and meanly pinches and pulls your nipples, enjoying how your spine arches up each time he bullies them. He doesn’t let you avoid his kiss, and if you close your mouth he plugs your nose and forces it open again so his tongue can taste you.

It’s too much, and you’re coming much too quickly from their rough attention.

It doesn’t end though, only changes as Megumi lifts up, dark hair slightly limp and falling into his eyes as he softly smiles at you, much like a lover might despite the horrid situation. “So good f’me, think you can do it again for him?” He’s not really asking, as he switches places with Satoru who looks overjoyed and viscous as he stares at your quivering dripping pussy.

“Course she can, just listen.” Satoru laughs, messily rubbing your overly sensitive clit and eliciting a yelp from your swollen lips. The lewd wet noises produced from his heavy petting only increasing the shame building inside you as you tearfully whine and try to twist your hips away. “She’s soaking the bed too. We’re getting everything dirty anyway, let’s just fuck her up as much as possible.” You don’t understand what that means until two fingers sink all the way inside you without warning.

“Oh Gods!” Your short cry is silenced again when Megumi decides to kiss you. His lips more tentative and the taste slightly shocking until you realize you’re tasting yourself on his tongue. Despite all you wish for, it makes you tighten on Satoru’s fingers as he gleefully curls them up inside your gummy walls.

“Think she likes how she tastes.” The devilish comment only makes Megumi groan in response, pulling back slightly to reply. “She tastes fucking delicious.” He murmurs against you, stealing your breath again while your poor cunt is finger fucked by Satoru at a quick and forceful rate. Each thrust of his hand accompanied by a loud squelch as he uses his other hand to ensure you stay spread and still despite the panic striking you.

“Mh! S’too’—ngh!!!” Even as you squirm and cry, neither lets up until you’re breaking this time, orgasm so strong you feel your eyes roll back.

“That’s it pretty girl, cum for me,” Satoru nearly comes with you as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, fluid rapidly forced from the confines of your cunt and out as you squirt for him. It’s a sight for sore eyes, the cute fucked out expression on your face as they force your body to relax and lubricate itself for their pleasure.

You’re too out of it to notice the switch again, Megumi back between your thighs but this time holding his curved thick cock between his fingers. Gripping it, he pulls back the skin hiding his sensitive head, easily slicking the tip up. The bulbous soft head smushing against your clit and folds and dragging up and down as you squeak and tiredly roll your head to look up and down.

It’s too late to truly realize what’s happening until his hips are surging forward and the tight ring of muscle at the opening of your pussy is stretched wide open on his cock for the first time. Your scream is silent, mouth open but no noise leaving. Instead you hear Megumi’s moans, short gasps of pleasure huffed into the humid and heating room as he struggles to work his shaft into your tight canal either trying to suck him further in or force him out. Your contracting muscles and choked gasps only spur him to fuck deeper until you’re filled inch by inch with him.

He bottoms out eventually, your sweaty bodies tinged slightly pink as he rubs against you, smearing blood from the Gladiator he killed today on your skin now.

“Wow~ look at how well you’re taking him, here, I’ll help.” In your shock and daze, you’d nearly forgotten about Satoru. The male happy to lift you up and make you see the enormous cock now swallowed up inside you, filling you almost painfully as you shake. “How’s it feel Meg?” He asks, blue eyes looking at Megumi’s strained expression.

“G-good…” is all he can manage. It’s better than good, more than good will ever be, but it’s all he can choke out without snapping and fucking you roughly.

“Hm~ it’ll feel better if you play with her here,” Satoru guides, his striking blue gaze focused on you with a nearly malevolent intensity as you grit your teeth to attempt to adjust to the intrusion more gracefully. He ruins it though, skilled fingers dancing down your belly and right to where you’re most vulnerable. Your cry isn’t silenced this time as Satoru presses down on the fleshy pearl above your opening. Megumi’s clumsy thrusts have spread you to your limit while Satoru rubs your nub with calculated precision.

“F-forgive me…I-I’m sorry…” both males look to your face now, confusion painting Megumi’s flushed face while Satoru seems enamored.

“How cute~ what’re you apologizing for?” He doesn’t let up. His fingers give you no rest and Megumi’s jerky thrusts seem intent on staying as deeply buried as possible. “Shh, being s’good, relax for me.” Megumi murmurs close to your ear, leaning over you some as Satoru braces you from behind.

It’s too much. You’re clamping down tight around the hot shaft stuffed deep inside, muscles contracting almost painfully around him.

“Gods—fuck, she’s so tight,” he sounds in pain, his nails digging in more harshly into your flesh as Megumi struggles to withhold his orgasm. It’s useless, moments after your own crashes down, he’s spilling into you, thick spurts of cum filling your womb as you groan and lay limp in Satoru’s arms.

Megumi recovers faster than you though, kissing your tired sweaty face as you blearily stare up in a daze.

He finds it cute.

Satoru does too. Happy to simply pull you up under your arms like a rag doll and position over his lap and against his chest.

“I can’t—a-anymore, no more—,”

“Poor thing. Has no one told you it’s good to push your limits? I think you can. Should we see who is right?” Your pleading look is lost on Megumi who merely pats your hair down, face serene as he watches you. Satoru gives you no time to recover before he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and lifting you.

“No cryin’ now, I let Meg stretch you out good n’well, I don’t want any tears unless they’re from how good I’m fuckin’ you.” His grin is sinful as he lets gravity sink you on his cock, the low light of the candles on the wall giving the illusion of sunset across his pale pretty features.

“O-oh!” Satoru snickers a laugh as you moan in startled shock. His words not a lie as he stretches you out in a different way. Where Megumi had been thick and curved, Satoru was much longer, hitting so deep it felt like the air was knocked from your lungs. It was enough a surprise to have you holding onto him, making the white haired Gladiator coo at you.

“Look at you~,” he’s not gentle as he bounces you on his cock. “Am I just so deep in this pussy? She seems to like how I fill her out, she’s just gushin’ all over me.” He holds onto the fat of your ass, hands spread wide to help anchor and rock you as he thrusts up. “Stay awake, pretty girl, remember what I told you? Eyes on me.” It’s difficult to concentrate on his husky voice when it seems he’s intent on breaking you, each time his shaft struck deep inside you swore your vision blurred. This wasn’t the slow overwhelming pleasured pain forced on you by Megumi… this was just rough sloppy sex with a maniac. Nevertheless, you do as told as try to keep your eyes open and on Satoru. His gaze didn’t waver like yours, despite the sweat sliding down his cheek, he never lost his arrogant smile or sparkle in his eyes.

A stark contrast to the lax expression you wore, lips parted and wet as you struggle to even swallow as you tearily moan like a whore in a brothel for these Gladiators using you like a sex toy. Your fucked out face and impending orgasm are what send Satoru over the edge. When your soft warm pussy creams around him and your eyes cross, Satoru can’t help but nearly whimper as his balls draw up tight and he fills you up along with Megumi’s earlier load.

The dark haired male seemingly content to watch or occasionally praise and pet sweetly while Satoru savagely used you.

It’s over, it must be over, you think as Satoru pulls out of you slowly with a soft pop, lifting you up and off to the side to lay you down. You can feel their combined releases leak down your thighs, soft hiccups escaping you as you catch your breath and come down from the intense high.

You feel nearly hollow as both men stand and begin loosely dressing, holstering their weapons back into their bodies as they prepare to simply leave.

It hurts worse despite all else.

“Pretty girl looks heartbroken Meg, should we stay?”

“Not when he’s coming back from a match, we need to meet with the Emperor before he goes back to the Palace.” Megumi shakes his head, his gaze softening when it lands on you.

“We’ll be back in a few hours, be good.”

They’re gone after those words, and while your heart filled with fury and humiliation, your eyes burned with sadness and something akin to loneliness. Just as you’d finished wallowing in self pity, ready to pull yourself together again and clean up both yourself and the mess made, the door opens again.

Both of you freeze, though for different reasons.

Toji froze because he’d forgotten he’d had you sent here, and you froze because a monster was standing before you.

Your scream is muffled before it leaves your lips, one single palm covering nearly your entire face as Toji looms over you in his full arena battle armor, the black intricately designed metal dripping crimson as he drops his weapon to the ground with a clang.

“Non’a that shit. Hear me, girl?” You nod weakly to show you listened.

Once he was sure you weren’t planning to scream his ears off more than the crowds already did, he released you and took another look.

Cute and well fucked is his first appraisal. He briefly recalls Megumi telling him his wish to have you, so it’s not strange his kid had jumped on his new slave so quickly. The marks littering you were likely that asshole’s doing, his kid too soft to be anything but be sweet towards the object of his affection. Toji briefly considered getting paid for his services tonight, but he was tired, and you looked fresh enough still.

“They fuck you good?” His question brought a baffled look to your face, amusing him as he begins unfastening his ties and removing his armor. You stay awestruck before him as he slowly sheds his persona in the arena, his laid back rugged appearance quite handsome up close as he towers over you with both height and brawn.

“M-master—,” you would either be killed or sold, there’s no way—

“You think you can handle me too?”

You stand nude before your new master still dripping the cum of his son and peer, and he asks if he can have a turn too?

“Yeah. I think you can.” He answers himself in your state of shock, and despite the sweat and blood coating him, he’s unabashed as he strips naked and corrals you back onto the bed.

“M-master please, I-I need to clean up! A-and sh-should run you a bath!” You were grasping at straws, frantically trying to escape the beastly male now licking his lips with a smirk, the scar in his mouth tugging up. You make the mistake of looking down, only to see the monster he contained beneath his armored belt.

Why was it so big? The girth alone frightened you, his length even longer than Satoru’s too, the veins running along the enormous shaft made your poor slick cunt still dripping cum clench. He’d break you. There’s not a doubt in your mind as you crawl away, his advance never slowing as he chuckles at your display.

“I don’t see why ya can’t clean after, hn?” He descends like a wolf to prey, easily pinning you down on your back, slotting his body between your thighs and forcing them open painfully wide to accommodate his size. “Don’t even need’t prep, still drippin’ huh?” He smiles, lazily grabbing his heavy appendage and lubricating himself through your folds.

“P-please master, it won’t fit—hah!” Your cry of shock only makes him sink faster and deeper into you, pressing and forcing himself into your cunt which protests the weighty thick invasion of the older male above you. He smells like the earth, like soft dirt and grass, metallic like copper, and sweat. Toji watches as your back arches further and further up, the sharp angle not looking entirely pleasant but it pushes your bust up for him to lean over and capture a perky nipple to suckle on, his teeth grazing the tip and groaning as your cunt spasms around him.

“Never understand why women say it won’t fit,” Toji mumbles against your saliva covered tit, strings of it still connected to his mouth as he casually addresses you despite pulling out and making you feel like he’s going to take your insides with it. “Y’can push a baby through here, my cock isn’t as big as that.” Not the point, but you’re too feverish to pay attention any longer as he begins sliding in easier and easier as the combined releases from earlier lube his cock to fuck you.

He sees the strain on your face, the shaking of your thighs and the tears leaking down your cheeks again. Generously, Toji lifts up under both your knees and hoists you higher, holding your lower half up and allowing himself to slide deeper. The girlish squeal you release only has his hips snapping harder, working his cock in as deep as he can, feeling the stress of the day melt in your soft tight pussy. He grunts as you cum, mouth open as drool escapes down your chin, cute wet moans so soft and breathy as you shudder and gasp.

“That feel good?” He smiles, the dopey expression on your face too cute for him not to bend down and capture your lips this time. Sucking and nibbling on your lips till they’re swollen before he delves his tongue into your hot mouth, his tongue taking up too much space until you’re squirming for air. He denies you it, swirling around your own pink appendage while rocking you with each thrust, rolling his hips expertly until your eyes are going crossed and you’re meeting his thrusts with your own. When your hands move to touch him, he restrains them, curling his much larger hands around your own and putting them beside your head while he presses you up and down into a mating press.

“Oh gods,” you can only cry for mercy, begging for more or less you aren’t sure, as he languidly pumps his cock into you until you don’t know up from down.

“No gods here girl, just this fucking tight little cunt y’got here, beggin’ f’another load.” You can’t even shake your head, in fact you find you wouldn’t mind it, the feeling of his hot seed spilling into you. He’s pressed you down so well you can’t even wiggle your hips, only moan and whine waiting for him to speed up, to fuck you harder.

He doesn’t. Just keeps the same steady pace and rhythm, balls slapping your ass at the same time, slimy and wet with all the mixed fluids your cunt has forced out by Toji’s invasion. Toji ignores your nonverbal cues for more, smirk still the same as he even occasionally grinds in deep to watch your eyes widen and lips part. The soft squishy leaking tip of his cock continuously smushing up against the soft barrier of your cervix, ready to spill his load and fill your womb.

“Master~” you begin to lose it completely, arching up as well as you can to press your chest to him, “Harder! Please fuck me! Please, harder please—,” a mindless chant for more, just a little more, to push you into that crest of euphoria where you crave to be again.

Who is he to deny such cute lewd begging?

Toji laughs, grin bared like a wild animal as he leans even more weight down on you before picking up his pace, pounding you into the mattress while your eyes roll back into your skull and you scream your impending orgasm. It hits you so hard you pass out for a moment, vision completely darkening as waves of pleasure engulf you.

Toji spills his load not long after, groaning deep in his throat as he releases as deep into you as possible, hips stilling and locking against your groin to ensure your cunt doesn’t waste a drop.

“Hey,” you’re too out of it, as he taps your cheek and only receives a blissed out smile and clouded vision. Just as he prepares to pull out and give himself a minute before fucking you again, his door opens.

“Boo~! You stretched her poor pussy out with that thing. I wanted to play with it again.” Satoru whines, blue eyes narrowed in childish petulance.

“Shut up, brat.” Toji rolls his eyes, cocking a brow at Megumi who moves silently around to check on you. His small smile at the pretty expression you wore grew, looking so fondly down at you it made Toji’s teeth ache.

“Hey~ Meg, you gonna use her? Otherwise I will~” Satoru begins undressing shamelessly, Toji’s exasperated glower ignored as the white haired male joins them in bed, tapping his hard cock on your puffy slick lips, letting you taste his salty precum.

“Fucking brats.” Despite his words, Toji feels his cock hardening again inside your warmth, giving a few short hard thrusts into your cunt to fully harden. He grips your hips and rolls so you rest on his chest, digging his fingers into the fat of your ass and spreading your cheeks for the two younger males to see.

“She’s got another hole that can be filled.” Toji grunts, beginning a slow a pace sensual pace inside you, more rocking than actual thrusts as you mewl against the hard planes of his chest. Satoru shivers, licking his lips as he brings his face down to where your puckered back entrance rests untouched. He’s unbothered by Toji’s thick cock spreading your pussy open, opening his mouth and letting his tongue prod your ass while you jolt and tremble in Toji’s hold.

“Easy girl, ain’t gonna hurt.” He mumbles, roughly petting your hair while you turn your face away to look back, only to feel fingers gently tangle in your hair.

“Here,” you’re being fed more cock, Megumi’s leaking swollen tip smearing his fluids across your closed lips until they open and he can plunge into your mouth’s warm depths with a moan. Your mind slowly goes blank again, the earlier feeling of panic fading as Satoru plays with your ass, using your own cum as lube and spreading it over the hole before playfully pressing his thumb into the tight space.

You moan around Megumi’s cock, the shaft sinking deeper into your throat while Toji fucks you a little faster, feeling you tighten with Satoru’s intrusion.

They play like that for a while, slowly speeding up before becoming languid again, turning you into a soft wet mess in their hold as Satoru finally lines his cock up with your free hole, groaning loudly as he fails to press inside. A sharp slap to your ass tears you free from your bliss, the pain biting but making the pleasure stand out more as Satoru looks at your hole in irritation. “Hey, sluts should just relax, let me in,” he complains, slapping your ass again and making you do the opposite and tighten.

“Shit, tight fucking pussy,” Toji moans, moving you up and down his shaft faster while Satoru tries again, spitting on his dick lewdly and pressing the tip back at your hole, hips driving forward and finally breeching. “Ngh—!” Satoru nearly cums on the spot, feeling the tight ribbed walls of your ass strangling his cock as he spears you open.

You’re so full it’s unbelievable, head empty and completely blank while feeling two thick cocks open you up while Megumi continues to fuck your mouth.

You can’t say a word, only feel as Satoru sets the pace while Toji helps rock you back and forth. With your hips occupied with Toji’s hands, Satoru instead wraps his long slender fingers around your neck, dragging you away from Megumi, loose enough for you to breathe but tight so he can draw you up against his chest as he drives into your tight sphincter with short jerky thrusts, lips pressed against your ear as he groans low in his throat. Megumi stands, perfect height with you lifted like this to comfortably slip his cock back into your mouth and down your throat. It’s too much and not enough at the same time, the slow clapping of skin and trembling movements, no one wanting this to end too soon while you writhe and jerk in their hold as they use you.

“I think you like being our little whore, huh?” Satoru whispers in your ear like a demon. “Feeling us all fill your filthy holes, making you our pretty slut to fuck however we want.” He’s so deep inside you, hips flush with your ass he stretches you on his cock, the thin skin separating him and Toji continuously stretched and rubbed from inside. A mess of fluids coated you all from below, so much so it was all wet squelching and moans from the languid movements of the gladiators. “Bet you’d like it if we just chained you up to fill all your holes, right Princess?” His condescending tone is lost on you as you feel your lower belly tighten painfully, the fullness becoming more evident as you get closer to your end.

“Don’t tease her,” Megumi huffs, looking fondly at Satoru with a hint of exasperation. “She’s being so good, taking all of us so well,” he feels you swallow around his rod, eyes fluttered closed as he thrusts into your mouth. “We should reward her.”

Toji chuckles, knowing exactly what the two were up to.

“Oh~? How should we reward our little cum Princess then?” You stutter as you feel Toji shift his hand and press down on your belly, body shaking as your eyes watered. Your hands were useless trying to push him away, only feeling his cock twitch and flex inside of you while he smiled.

“She looks close, should help her finish.” Megumi huffs, his own end nearing as you slobber and choke on his cock.

“Hmm~ guess I’ll be nice, this time,” he breathes the last bit in your ear threateningly, but the seductive undertone has you shaking in a way that isn’t from fear. Satoru releases one hand from around your throat to dip down until he can swirl his finger around your swollen sensitive clit. It’s already covered in slick, easily letting him press and grind down, feeling you buck and moan in their grasp beautifully.

“You gonna cum Princess? All over our cocks?” Satoru has you clutched close as he fucks you, helping forcing you down on Toji’s cock while you groan around Megumi’s length. “Cum for us, let us ruin you.” It’s like he’s a prophet for the Gods, because when you do cum, you do feel ruined. Megumi’s hips stutter as you gluck and allow his cock even deeper, his balls drawing tight as he floods your throat with his cum.

Satoru and Toji cum shortly after, grunting and moaning their own finishes while you’re cradled limply against Toji’s chest now, eyes unfocused as you’re filled again and again.

Your dreams provide you with sweet relief, as you’re left unconscious in Megumi’s arms as he cleans you in a warm bath he’s pulled and heated.

“No fun~ she looked cuter covered in cum.” Satoru grins, but his smitten expression isn’t missed by Megumi who shakes his head with a smile.

“She won’t sleep good like that.” Is all he says, gently washing you clean and drying you off to take to bed. The bed Toji hardly ever uses now occupied by four occupants.

Toji watches in silence as you’re laid down, Megumi calmly sliding in while Satoru flatly lays at the bottom of the bed.

“Sure you want her?” Toji asks as the silence descends on them all.

Megumi’s dark gaze flicks up to his father.

“Hmph, acting like you don’t?” He challenged back, only to be met with a smirk and a heavy hand landing on top his head, making Satoru cackle.

You awake clean and warm, with a new pristine silver chain wrapped around your ankle and chained into the stone wall.

Satoru wasn’t kidding.

Dividers by @benkeibear

If you liked this, please reblog!♡ It is what sustains me, well, coffee too but reblogging is the dominant factor—

#not proof read #tw: dark content #tw: noncon #jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere jjk smut #yandere Gojo Satoru #yandere megumi fushiguro #yandere toji fushiguro #Gojo Satoru x reader smut #Megumi fushiguro x reader smut #toji fushiguro x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #x fem reader #idk I’m tired

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uhohdad · 3 months

Note

Okay so I'm a complete SUCKER for sub!könig but we know he's a big brash military man capable of great violence but also. I wanna tear him down and build him back up. Brattame him. Gotta let steam off somehow right?

Could you do something with femdom!reader who gets könig as a client wanting to let some steam off from work and give up control for a moment and just fucking. edging and overstimming the fuck out of him. him crying from pain and pleasure. he realizes he likes being degraded... oh geez is it hot in here or-

(18+) Sub!König x FemDom!Reader

König’s leg is bouncing furiously, his knuckles white as he digs his fingernails into the arms of your lounge chair. Maybe this is one of those things that’s better in theory than it is in reality. The thought seemed… enticing, but sitting here, now, waiting for his dominatrix, his stomach is turning and his mouth is dry. He can’t help but feel embarrassed, stupid even, for being desperate enough to come here.

He’s just about to bail when he hears the commanding click of heels across tile.

König’s heart pounds in his chest, breaths thick and weighted as he struggles to work air into his lungs. He has to pinch his eyes shut, shoulders tensed in a brace as you enter.

The click of your heels still, and a few tense moments pass before König hesitantly opens his eyes, his lips pulled back in unease.

At the sight of you, standing in the doorway with your arms crossed under your chest, he chokes, his breaths ceasing.

He’s not sure where to look as you study him from top to bottom with strict eyes. Just sitting before you is putting a shake in his fingers.

You give a hum at whatever conclusion you’ve drawn in your head, and König opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out of his stuttering lips.

Your heels click over to him, each slow, agonizing step making his heart pump a little faster.

The room is unbearably silent once you’ve settled between his legs, staring down at him in his seat. He feels like he’s in trouble, like he’s sitting in the principal’s office about to get his scolding. He can’t even look at you, fixated on his lap and fidgeting with his fingers.

You hum, your voice low and as smooth as honey, each word spoken slowly.

“Such a big, strong man like you. I’m sure there’s a lot of pressure that comes along with that. Is that right?”

König swallows, his eyes darting around. He still can’t look at you. He tries to work up the courage to respond, but can’t find the ability to speak, so he just nods, gnawing on his lower lip.

“I’m sure there are lots of people who depend on you. Is it a heavy weight you carry on those strong shoulders?”

König’s gaze moves to the floor, and he gives a sheepish nod. His cheeks are flushed a glowing pink, an arm slung across his chest and rubbing out his opposing bicep.

A curled finger gently presses under his chin, guiding his head up. Those pretty blue eyes meet yours, wide and nervous. Your voice is strict, but gentle, that of a teacher’s when she corrects a child’s wrongdoing.

“When I ask you a question, you say - ‘Yes, Miss,’ or ‘No, Miss.’ Do you understand?”

He swallows again, his irises flicking back and forth as his gaze switches between your eyes. He nods quickly, his eyes closing as he tries to get his thoughts straight.

His voice is barely audible, words poured quickly and soaked in embarrassment, cheeks staining a shade deeper.

“Yes, Miss.”

And of course, his cock is straining against the front of his pants, his hands resting in front of himself to try and hide it from you.

“Very good,” You say.

You bend at the core, your hand grabbing the back of his chair, your pretty face inches from him, relishing in how he curls in on in himself, how his shoulders raise, how he can’t make eye contact.

“Being so powerful,” You start, your voice just a sultry whisper, “It’s a lot of responsibility, isn’t it?”

He nods, having to work up the courage to speak again.

“Yes, Miss.”

Your finger finds his jaw, to tilt his head back into position. He obediently meets your eyes.

“You want me to take over that responsibility for a little while?”

König sucks in a sharp breath, his eyes darting around your face. You’re so confident, so forward, domineering and irresistible - König can’t even think straight, his mind blank and jaw slack as he searches for his voice. When he finds it, it’s weak and stitched with a needy groan.

“Yes, Miss.”

You offer a pleased hum, studying him for a moment. You stand tall before you gracefully climb on top of him, kneeling with your legs cushioned on either side on his thighs. Slowly, you lean in, listening to the sound of his heavy breaths as he shivers beneath you. His stubble pokes and scratches your skin when you give him a gentle, lingering kiss on his cheek before pressing your cheek to his. Your voice just a breathy, deep whisper in his ear.

“Have you been a good boy, baby? Or does someone need to be punished?”

Every muscle in his body tenses, and a stuttered choke catches in the back of his throat.

König can’t seem to find his words, short circuiting beneath you as you give another slow kiss on the side of his face.

You give a low hum, lips back in his ear.

“Do you need Miss to decide, baby boy?”

König gives a shaky nod. When you pull away, those pretty blue eyes are staring up at you so innocently, eagerly.

“I asked you a question,” You scold.

König’s eyes widen as he scrambles to appease you.

“Yes, Miss,” He blurts, a frantic nod accompanying.

You give a smug grin and another low hum. Your hands find tense, shaking biceps, palms sliding down the length of his strong arms. A soothing touch, slowing when you get to his wrists.

“You are a good boy, aren’t you?”

König is stunned, locked onto you, and is none the wiser when you slap a pair of heavy duty handcuffs around his wrists.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth, looking down at his restrained hands and giving a tug to the chain connecting each cuff. When he meets your stare again, his pretty blue eyes are wide and pooled with fear.

You give a two-note laugh behind a grin.

“If you want me to take control, I can’t have you able to overpower me, can I?”

He shakes his head slowly.

“No, Miss.”

Before he knows it, König’s on the bed, stripped of his clothes and back flush with the covers, his handcuffs attached to the headboard and ankles secured tightly to the bed. His cock is stiff and swollen, flush against his stomach and leaking precum all over himself. He’s buried his face into the pillows, eyes pinched shut and whines flowing freely as you deny him the orgasm he’s been circling for hours.

“Bitte, Miss, I need it, please, please, I’ve been so good.”

König has entirely unraveled underneath you, what remains of him wrapped around your finger.

You trace a light, leisurely fingertip from the base of his cock to the tip.

“I thought that was for me to decide.”

König lets out a truly pathetic whine, the metal of his cuffs clinking as he pulls on his restraints. When you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, his entire body tenses, a huff escaping him.

You torture him with slow, teasing glides up the shaft of his aching cock, trailing your thumb around the rim of his tip with each pump. Needy whimpers leave König as his hips rut into your touch.

“Please, Please Miss.”

“Please what?”

“Bitte, Miss, Please let me come.”

You give a soft laugh, offering him a bit of relief by speeding up your glides around his cock.

König’s eyes lull before pinching shut, embarrassing, sniveling moans leaving him, his body shaking in response to your touch.

It doesn’t take long for him to reach the edge again, his muscles steadily tensing and his grip on his restraints tightening.

“Bitte, Miss, please.”

He finishes on a whine, tears welling in his eyeline, his breaths sniveled and shaky.

“Mm,” You hum, “I’ll think about it.”

He lets out a sob, closing his eyes tight and sending tears streaming down his temples.

Your hands leave his cock to find his firm chest when you move to straddle him, and König lets out another whine at the absence of your touch. You take his cock again, guiding his tip through your slick arousal, listening to König trip over his own breaths.

“Feel so good, Miss. Please, Miss.”

“That’s a good boy. Tell me how much you need it.”

König whines again, tugging on his restraints as he grinds against you.

“F- Please, Miss, I need it so bad, I need you, I can’t- hn-”

König can hardly think straight, intoxicated off your power and desperate for release.

You line him up with your dripping cunt, and can’t help but lull your head as you stretch around such a thick cock.

König immediately begins to thrust his hips into you, and your hands shoot out to his sides to still him.

“If you move your hips, you’ll have to wait another round,” You warn.

“Please, I’m sorry Miss, I’ll be so good, please.”

“Good boy.”

You sink onto him carefully, swallowing his throbbing cock at a teasingly slow pace.

His moans are strained, muscles tight and trembling as he resists the urge to fuck you with everything he has.

“So tight, Miss, feels so good.”

“Mm,” You hum, a slow pace as you move up and down on his cock, swallowing a little more of him on each descent.

“Please, Miss, please.”

You’ve barely warmed up to him, but he’s already circling his orgasm, overwhelmed by the stimulation of your tight, warm cunt around him and long since aching for finish.

“Please, Miss!” He cries, more tears streaming down his face, his restraints taut with each tug against them.

When your bounces on his cock pick up speed, König’s face pinches, a pathetic moan behind the lip caught between his teeth.

“Come.”

At once, every muscle in his body contracts, eyes rolling, choking on a cry. He convulses underneath you as you work every drop of his pent-up finish from him, entirely succumb to your wet, tight cunt. When his breaths return, they’re heaving and stuttered, his cock pulsing inside you with each beat of his heart.

“Thank your Miss for letting you come.”

“Thank you, Miss, thank you.”

♡ KÖNIG DRABBLE MASTERLIST ♡

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buggachat · 11 months

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seeing a lot of talk of the season 5 finale, which is fun, i get that it was controversial (honestly the fact it was really risky is kind of one of the things i like about it lol) and wanting to add my two cents but can't think of much i haven't already said before

but something i do want to emphasize is that season 5 ending on Marinette telling the biggest, boldest faced lie she's ever told (that goes far beyond "protecting her identity") to kick off the Lila arc is by far the coolest thing they could've done imo, because I was not at all excited for the Lila arc before but now I'm totally invested. Now Lila isn't the Evil Liar to be taken down by Good Marinette. Marinette is the liar to be taken down by the very liar that she took down. It's not a story of "defeat that freakishly evil girl" anymore, but instead a story of "Marinette's own actions and decisions coming back to bite her". And the lie itself (WHICH LILA KNOWS IS A LIE!!) only exists because, and is most impactful towards, her relationship with Adrien, which is the core of the series!! I CARE about their relationship, and that's the stakes!!!

I just cannot get over how cool that is, and how much I didn't expect it. I know we all were expecting a big fight with Ladybug and Chat Noir just defeating Gabriel and then watching Chat Noir cry or whatever in the few remaining minutes of screen-time and then it's all over and done with, but that's a series finale. This was a season finale. And they did something really unique and unexpected with it, while making sure it's a juicy season-finale conflict that leaves me actually excited about season 6

also, a side note— I think the framing of the finale made this confusing so I totally get why discussions about it are kind of all over the place, but... 90% of the post-wish stuff we saw had nothing to do with Gabriel at all. It was all Mayor Bustier, who was already running for mayor and wanted to enact green laws and projected to win (she was up against D'Argencourt, the character whose schtick is that nobody ever votes for him in elections). I don't think Gabriel's wish included "Please, Gimmi, I want my son's school teacher to win the mayoral election this year" lol. So a lot of talk of "why is Gabriel's World presented in such a positive light?" is kind of weird to me. That's not Gabriel's World. That's Caline Bustier's. All we know so far about Gabriel's World is that Nathalie is in it and he is not. And frankly, the fact everyone is so happy and cheerful and living it up after his death is more a roast than anything

( also, just a reminder that the presentation of Gabriel's statue— the only scene discussing Gabriel in a positive light by someone In The Know— was done by Tomoe Tsurugi, a series antagonist, vowing to continue his work, with a song in minor key playing in the background. i feel like the question of "was this meant to be unsettling or triumphant?" is pretty obvious. just wanted to remind everyone. also by definition characters cannot celebrate gabriel as a "hero" without in the same breath celebrating monarch's, aka gabriel's, death. yknow? )

#ml s5 spoilers #re-creation spoilers #ml re-creation #recreation spoilers #ml recreation #as w all my posts this really isnt meant to be an invitation for you to tell me what you didnt like about it #i do GET IT because i think this finale was very risky and intentionally controversial so im not surprised/dont blame you if you hate it bu #i've heard a lot of arguments against it and tbh none have been able to change the fact that I actually like it a lot so #idk would probably be more productive to make your own post about it haha #also side note: WOOOOOOO THE MYSTERIOUS WOMAN CONFIRMED TO BE AMELIE WOOOO #me hearing that it was confirmed like ''why am I gasping? i already knew that''

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reythenerdypisces · 7 months

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things that I overlooked in PJO the first time / small, funny things I noticed during my reread

Part 1: The Lightning Thief

All I could think of was that the teacher's must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room. oh he was one of those guys

"I believe that was question 38 on your final exam..." He [Chiron] looked at me as if he actually expected me to remember question 38. once a teacher always a teacher

A strange fire burned in my stomach. The weirdest thing was: it wasn't fear. It was anticipation. The desire for revenge. We got a hint of dark Percy in book 1

I'd been afraid he [Luke] might resent me for getting so much attention the last few days. But here he was giving me a magic gift... It made me blush almost as much as Annabeth. tell me again this boy did not have a crush on Luke

The game ended when I tossed the apple toward Grover and it got too close to his mouth. In one mega goat bite, our Hacky Sack disappeared - core, stem, and all. Grover blushed. He tried to apologise, but Annabeth and I were too busy cracking up. I love moments of them being able to just be kids

She [Annabeth] loved reading so much, I'd forgotten she was dyslexic, too. I think the fandom forgets this too

Annabeth muttered to me, "Circus caravan?" "Always have a strategy, right?" Percy is so smart and so good at thinking on his feet, I'm tired of the fandom treating him like he's dumb

I was feeling satisfied after the burger, and a little sleepy, and I figured the least I could do was try to make small talk with our hostess. He's so sweet. Even if the host was Medusa

"I hate Australia! Naming that ridiculous animal after me [Echidna]." As someone currently living in Australia, this cracked me up.

I whistled. "You have evil thoughts for a goat." "Why, thank you." I love Grover and Percy and their friendship, very under appreciated

"I'm Crusty," he said, with a tartar-yellow smile. I resisted the urge to say, Yes you are. he's hilarious

A steely look of anger flared in my mother's eyes, and I thought, just maybe, I was leaving her in good hands after all. Her own. I also love Sally Jackson

that's all, I'll be back for sea of monsters :)

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo disney+#pjo series #the lightning thief #rick riordan #perseus jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood

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sadokasochism · 5 months

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For me, the most heartbreaking aspect of Ivan is that the poor clueless bastard didn't have the tools to express his affection in any way that didn't involve violence or manipulation, or weren't too inscrutable, quiet, or unseen to be picked up by Till.

I definitely interpret Ivan as autistic for several reasons, a big one being their Segyein teacher's notes about him:

It's just. Classic ND behaviour to me.

Not only does expressing emotion and communicating the way other kids do not come naturally to Ivan, but it's not as if he's been given a great example of coping with this from the Segyein.

Ivan managed to mask in a way that made him popular with other students, and got him in the good graces of their captors. He did everything expected of him to survive and thrive in this environment.

Then he meets Till, inscrutable and very different to the other kids, just like Ivan is. Except, Till doesn't mask. He doesn't change or try to endear himself to their captors, and he doesn't bend to anyone, no matter how much he is hurt and punished for it.

This is a new situation for Ivan, and he's never had anything to compare his feelings to. He also can't figure out how to communicate with Till, every interaction, no matter how well meaning, seems to end in failure.

I bring your attention to the cheer up comic, and how, again, autistic this interaction feels:

There could be many reasons why Ivan chose to say what he did, but to me it feels like ND bluntness not being received well. And that's fair! From Till's perspective Ivan is being a jerk for no good reason.

Instead of responding with glee towards Till laying him out (as we see from Ivan when they're a bit older), Ivan justs seems... really confused. Like he didn't expect that statement to upset Till that much, and he didn't expect Till to respond in the way he did. Everything was fine a second ago, what went wrong?

Then, Ivan uses the phrase he learned from Till in an attempt to self sooth. It might have been the first example of comfort after an injury/hurt he had ever seen, given how he defaults to it. And it was from Till trying to cheer up a flower.

This also shows some of Till's blindspots. He has grown up having to be vigilant, because violence and hurt have been a core part of his upbringing. This leads to anything he doesn't immediately, clearly understand being perceived as a threat or a slight, and so he reacts violently to Ivan's statement.

I'll also draw your attention to this comic where, as far as we know, Ivan is simply stating a true fact in a blunt manner:

In my interpretation, these types of interactions keep adding up, and Ivan is grasping at straws the whole time, trying to be closer to Till and failing every time.

Eventually, the only surefire way to get Till's attention is to piss him off, provoke him, manufacture scenarios to talk to him. I'm not excusing this behaviour, but I understand where Ivan could be coming from, from the perspective of both an emotionally immature/stunted child and/or an ND child.

Despite how much they fight and bicker, at every moment it really mattered, Ivan was there for Till. It was always Ivan coming to free him, to take off his collar or gag, and it was Ivan who led their escape.

Ivan couldn't leave Till behind when he went back for Mizi. Even with the confirmation that Till would choose Mizi over Ivan every time, Ivan couldn't leave him.

The miscommunication goes two ways though. It's insane to think that Till didn't care about Ivan at all. They were close as kids, and I doubt Till ever forgot about the escape he gave up.

We have the graduation messages, where Ivan is able to write something that could be reasonably interpreted as affectionate or fond towards Till.

Meanwhile, Till's message-

If we're being charitable with our interpretations, we can say this was Till's way of saying 'of course I remember you' and attempting to communicate that Ivan HAD left a lasting impact on him.

However, how could any reasonable person be expected to get THAT out of 'you stole my fucking pencil'? Ivan could have taken this one of two ways:

1) Omg he remembers me 🥰

2) he leans into his 'i will never be loved back' bias and thinks that Till really doesn't care about him at all

Who the hell knows what goes through that weird little brain of his. But given how Round 6 went, and what Ivan had to say in the confession comic, he obviously didn't think his impact was significant enough.

Then Alien Stage happens, and in Round 3 Ivan is FINALLY communicating his feelings in a way that is vulnerable and might even have a chance of being understood as love and yearning!

Till is unconscious through it until the very end.

Then in the next round, Mizi goes missing, and Till can't care about anything anymore.

Ivan finds him after the private performance, takes off his gag, and just holds him. Again, Till is unconscious for all of this.

Then, in Round 6, not only is Till distraught from the disappearance of Mizi, but he's given no time to process what the fuck is going on before Ivan is dead at his feet. Till might have finally had a chance to really understand where Ivan was coming from, how he really felt all this time, and Ivan DIES.

And still, Ivan's most transparent act of affection? It's delivered with violence. He's kissing a distraught Till who tries to push him away, and neither of them are happy. He puts his hands around Till's neck, not really hurting him, but it's enough to look convincing for the cameras, and it's enough for Till to go limp and wait for death. Ivan's final loving act is to give Till a soft look with blood pouring out of his mouth, that Till still does not see, and then let go before falling to the ground.

It's just a collection of failures. We see from Ivan that he truly loved Till, made a lot of selfless decisions for his sake, was filled with so much longing and affection, but he just couldn't get it across in a way that doesn't seem fucking deranged from an outsider's perspective. And when he DID manage to communicate his feelings more clearly, it was to a Till that was unconscious, or too distracted/dense/traumatised to see Ivan's actions as ones of love.

There's no guarantee that Till would have reciprocated even if Ivan had managed to communicate his feelings in a healthier way, but there was at least a CHANCE. At least Ivan could have gotten some closure, even if he was rejected.

Instead Ivan died thinking he was completely unloved by the person who he cared about more than anything else, and his last ditch effort to make Till understand was deeply flawed and uncomfortable.

If these kids had grown up any other way, maybe they could have had a chance. Unfortunately, the world they were in didn't equip them to not hurt eachother in their attempts to grow closer.

#alien stage #alien stage ivan #alien stage till #alnst #alnst ivan #alnst till #ivantill #tillivan #alien stage round 6 #if you saw me edit this a bunch of times trying to link the masterdoc post no you didnt

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milkteabinniechan · 9 months

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Professor Chan

Possessive Chan x !female reader

warnings : implied age difference (reader is over 18!) Just smut, probably typos

I love writing about possessive Chan so please let me know if you want more <3

You knew when his offive hours were. You had memorized the hours. You fantasized. You lost track of time in his classes, staring at his hands, his lips, the way he walked across the lecture hall. He spoke so passionately about everything. He would recite poetry with fire in his eyes. And every time he made eye contact with you, your body shudder. Jesus Christ, your body would literally shudder. You'd lick your lips and close your legs together, squeezing around nothing. An emptiness you were begging him to fill. You weren't even subtle about it anymore. Your eyes glossy with need and desire. You wanted him to see you. Really see you. You were all his.

Now you were here. On his desk. During office hours. Unbuttoning his slacked black pants. His hands gently around your neck while his lips traces kisses down your neck. Once his zipper reached the end of it's line, you reach in eagerly to pull him out completely. You chuckled deeply into your neck at your readiness. It was making him hungier. You wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, the girth of him pulsing into your palm. God, he was huge. You found yourself praying to a god you didn't believe in to will you the strength to take him completely.

"I want you to teach me something, professor." You spoke softly. A small smirk grew as Chan lifted one of your thighs high to give him the best view. A string of wetness spread across your center and you exposed yourself to your teacher. Your heart began to race faster as his hand gripped tighter around your thigh. His other hand grabbed your chin to pull your focus to his eyes. You were very focused on another, larger, part of him.

"are you ready?" His question was genuine. He was focused on your face, waiting for your answer. Unmoving until you responded. "Yes. Yes. Yes." You answered in slow succession. You wanted him to hear every single Yes you uttered. With that, Chan began to slide in you. Slowly at first, the sensation of fullness already becoming too much. You grabbed onto his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you from levitating off of the Earth itself. This man. This man.

Chan was now farther inside of you. Not completely. But enough now he could grip your ass and help you move into him. You started a rhythm with him almost instantly. Both of you pushing and thrusting. His hips bucked into you and you saw stars. Your hand was wrapped around his tie now. A red tie. You loved when he wore the red tie. The leverage it gave you allowed you pick up speed. A primal growling rose from your professor.

"Am I doing good, sir?" You begged for approval. You loved it. You needed it.

"You're doing so good. Look at you. You're doing so good for me." Chan was picking up speed now. You were leaving a mess on his desk, you could feel it beneath you. You were so close. His full length now inside you entirely. Your core becoming so hot, your release was reaching its peak now and you were near falling apart. In danger of being left a puddle on his desk.

As you screamed through your climax, Chan pressed a hand over your mouth, still thrusting vigorously. "You'll have to be quiet, another class might hear you." He said with a smile.

He loved the thought of that as much as you did. You broke apart for him and his eyes promised to put you right back together again. You just hoped this wouldn't be the last time you came to visit him during office hours.

#stray kids #bang chan #skz smut #stray kids smut #writing #chan x reader #chan #bang chan smut #christopher bang #bang chan imagines #bang chris

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metranart · 2 months

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My one and only wants you, so he’ll have you (Part 7)

ft. Sensei! Gojo Satoru, sensei! Suguru Geto, reader insert, slight! Megumi x reader.

Gojo Satoru and Suguru Geto happily married, you, their lovely student and the cause of their ragging temptation. The problem: their son, Megumi, your best friend.

⭕️ NSFW ARTWORK OF THIS CHAPTER

𖦹 Warning tags: Gojo x Reader x Geto, threesome, married couple, Suguru and Gojo happy married couple, polyamory, Teacher-Student Relationship.

“Fuck-…. Do your very best not to scream, baby.” The heated boy requested and a trail of kisses down your breast followed, you squeaked, and he chuckled against your belly as he kept his way down, until his wet lips kissed your sweet folds.

“Megumi-i….” you pleaded, and he smashed your heated core against his face, “where’s-where’s the timid Fushiguro?” you end up teasing.

“You make him this feral, pretty one.” You heard his husky voice muffled your folds as he ate you just as his father did hours ago. Your body squirmed, tensed and relaxed in the lapse of ten minutes straight, Megumi was as insatiable as he was agile with fingers and tongue.

“I need to-…. I need to-”

He didn't even have to finish his sentence when you spread your legs wider, presenting yourself to him and his hungry gaze.

"I said: Don't hold back, ain't I?" You reminded him, and before Megumi lost it completely to become his father’s son. Your mouth wrapped that big, awfully thick piece of meat shinning on precum inside, tasting him, licking from head to balls. Making his skin spark in thousands of goosebumps and his bones to tremble inside his body.

This was pure glory, his dream come true, this was heaven to him. Thrusting a few times inside your wet cave just to shoot a small spurt of cum right into your throat, panting and heaving himself away from you before he came completely.

“Inside you,” he ordered, and you grinned so sensually he almost came on the spot, desire shinning in your orbs made him feel more welcome than his parents the first time he met them. Fuck! You were his everything and moving your body to his liking he positioned himself between your spreads thighs to easily slip inside you, of course, after being eaten so thoughtfully the entire day, your walls almost welcome him and shaped around his girth as if he belonged inside you.

“Fuck!” Megumi growled, blissed out. “OHGOD! I’m home-”

He tasted the smile on your face as you claimed his lips to kiss him, and Megumi’s hips started slow yet quickly gain inch by inch, heroically claiming you as he thrusted -wild and feral- inside your wetness, you feel like the nicest pocket of flesh, your gummy walls pulsating around him felt devastatingly good.

Wet noises mixed with high pitched mewls from your parted quivering lips and deep grunts pour out of him from time to time as he reached deeper inside your welcoming core.

It was lewd the barbaric way Megumi had chosen to breed you.

He doesn’t remember burying his palm in your mane to spin you around and practically shove you on top of his mattress to change positions over and over again, twisting you to his liking.

Cannot recall wrapping your legs around him to force you to ride him, or his mouth rejoicing in your delicious pair of round breasts to have his full, squeezing and pinching the perked flesh with teeth while defiling you.

When did he started to slam full force into you, rattling the mattress as he sheath himself in your slick warmth to the hilt, still eluded him. The raven-haired devil was carelessly reordering your womb as he devotedly fed your tight lips his cock. Openly dismissing your pleas for him to go slower, to be gentler…instead, kept rocking mercilessly deep making sure to hit, brazenly and repeatedly, that special spot inside you just to see the fireworks.

A pleased sound rumbled in his chest with contained mirth and a disturbingly stretched grin betrayed his natural compose self.

“My sweet–sweet (Y/N)” he growled in a strained voice. Gruff fingers keeping you effectively anchored to his groin, gushing away into your resistless, subdued pussy.

Both hands dutifully keeping you trembling hips up and ready, even after all strength had been drained and hanged limp, only secured by his greedy grasp.

“Sweet, defenseless (Y/N)…” He snarled into your neck leaning over you and clamping a hand down over your shoulder to adjust his angle just the slightest bit. “P-Precious girl...so eager to take her best friend’s cock…–”

Dragging you with him, lifted your leg, anchoring his foot against the edge of the mattress and found his leverage to pound deeper, groaning throatily, Megumi continued to slap his loaded heavy balls against your over-used pussy, covered and dripping in their combined fluids, plump and ready with a fresh load cooked especially for his little darling.

“–Foolish (Y/N) … foolish enough to accept to have a sleepover with me… just to get railed against my bed” he licked his lips. “Do you think they are listening?” Megumi wondered and glance down at you to find you numb from the blast of pleasure.

Your moans were those of a subjugated and defeated animal. You had been conquered by the implacable Zenin heir who stubbornly refused to give up an inch of his new territory. Thrust after thrust continued his crusade. Each one more deliciously accurate, pulling him closer to the blinding sensation of release.

“I know they are listening…” he sounded amused and soon a quiet long, raspy moan filled the room. “I hope they are listening… paying special attention at how I fill you up so good. Fuck! I’m even putting a couple of my pups inside you tonight, baby.”

Megumi began to feel his frame grow tense; this angle was insanely perfect to him. You at his mercy, unable to deny him, incapable of dodge or hide from his grasp. Gave free rein to his corrupt essence to defile you. Megumi was taking what was rightfully his. That thought bloated his arousal, clouding what little self-restrain he had left and pistoned his narrow hips like a feral rabbit.

You, being merciless nailed to his mattress could barely breath, much less emit any coherent noise apart from low mewls of despair and the attempt of his name in your angelical, overused vocal cords. But it was more than enough to guide the man on top of you straight into his blissful reward.

“If you fucking respect me” he warned feeling himself close, eyes rolled to the back of his head and balls tighten almost painfully. “Don’t you ever look at them again! You are MINE!”

Head pulled back, feverish cheeks and mouth hanging slightly open before a deep, long grunt echoed through the walls whilst white thick ribbons of cum washed the inside of your convulsing walls while milking every last drop out of him.

“F-FUUUUCK!~”

A mind-blowing orgasm kidnapped all his senses, melting away what strength he had left, and the intensity of the act shook him awake with a startled gasp.

Megumi opened his heavy lids to find himself alone in the futon right next to his bed where you still were soundly sleeping. He was a sweaty mess, soiled and dripping from his awfully vast load now painting the inside of his pants, and shame abruptly and frustratingly began to creep into his injured pride.

“Shit! Shit!...Shit!“ he blasted quietly in anger. Another fucking dream–…he reprimanded internally while massaging the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm his erratic heartbeat.

Am I fucking fifteen again!?

Slowly straightening he verified that you were effectively deep sleep before sigh in relieve.

His shirt was drenched in sweat and his cheeks were red and foggy, pants awkwardly sticking to his hot skin reminding him his cold stain of disgrace. Megumi passed a hand through his disheveled hair unsticking wet strands from his forehead and sat up in his futon getting rid of the asphyxiating covers.

This dream was way more intense and vivid than the last ones…is this my life now? To fantasize about you like a lame pathetic loser.

Angrily huffing, lazily hauled his shirt off and drop the heavy fabric producing a wet thud while hitting the floor, immediately feeling better when the cold air hit his warm skin. He needed to take a bath and wash his pants, personally. It was mortifying enough to cum like a teenager in private, for someone else to find out too… and he needed to do all of this before you wake up.

A knock on the door, startle him out of his obsessing mind which busy itself in repeating the dream in an insistent loop and in a compose voice replied.

“Who is it?”

Megumi waited and the stain in his pants grew more noticeable by the minute making him feel more anxious.

“It’s Dad, open up.”

Dammit! Dammit!... Not him, not right now.

COMING SOON PART 8....

⭕️ NSFW ARTWORK OF THIS STORY

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cherryrikis · 1 month

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사랑으로 (with love,)

PAIRING swim instructors riki x fem reader

WARNINGS mild profanity

GENRE enemies to ??, fluff, angst if you squint

SYNOPSIS you hated riki because when it came to teaching your classes, he always one upped you. but riki doesn’t hate you. so when you both are punished for breaking equipment, he uses every opportunity to try and talk to you.

a/n loosely based of personal experience cz im a lifeguard🛟 also not proofread

it was meant to be a part time summer job. you just wanted something to do with all your free time, now that school was out.

but, the kids grew to love you, and you grew to love what you do.

so, you began to work full time at the local community pool.

instead of 2 classes a day, you’d teach 4 classes a day. it wasn’t too bad, each class only being 30 minutes.

you were so glad to help out, often even training the new interns.

until one. nishimura riki.

he was barely an intern for a week before becoming a full time employee. at first, you paid him no mind. he was a good teacher. very professional and good with the kids, often demonstrating the skills they needed to know to pass his class.

but eventually, he became better. he grew to become an even better teacher than you. the kids who loved you since the beginning started requesting to be put in riki’s class.

you watched him from across the pool, playfully splashing his students (who really, used to be your students), as they squealed about how the water was too cold.

but he always noticed your gaze. he turned around, smiling at you softly.

and you hated it, you felt nothing but hatred for him to the core of your heart. most of the staff noticed it, and it made it a bit awkward to work with either of you.

it was around 8:00 when your last class had ended. all your co-workers were putting the lane lines back in, preparing the pool for the swim team’s practice the following day.

“y/n? can you collect all the kick boards and put them away?” the manager, anton, asked you. “riki, go help y/n with all the other equipment.”

“what?” your mouth fell open, “anton, i can do it myself,”

“y/n.” anton cut you off. “don’t fight it. just let him help you.” he sighed before walking back into his office to pack up for the night.

you stood still in the middle of the walkway, ignoring how your coworkers moved past you to go wash up in the showers.

finally moving out the way to collect the boards, you huffed as you saw riki follow you into the storage room.

it was eerie. the lightbulb constantly went out, so the staff just figured to keep a candle and a lighter on the shelf above the bins.

riki lit the flame before going to help you clean up.

as you finished stacking the equipment, you went to walk out of the room, but riki grabbed your hand, pulling you back in.

“why do you hate me?”

“i don’t hate you.” you mumbled, before attempting to leave once more, only to be brought back to him.

he raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down.

“fine, i just don’t like you.” you scoffed. “you constantly one up me, taking my position, and even luring my students over to your class. nowadays, i don’t even get paid as much as you do anymore!”

“it’s not my fault! you act like my sole purpose was to come here and take your place.” riki grimaced at you. “maybe i am just the better instructor between us. it’s not my fault you can’t accept that.”

one might say it was out of jealous rage, or just an intolerance of immaturity. but something inside you snapped.

you shoved riki’s shoulder, causing him to fall against the wall and hit the shelf which held the candle.

from that point on, everything was in slow motion. the sound of glass breaking was loud and very audible.

the hot wax spilled across the plastic bin, melting the lid and spilling all over the foam boards which sat inside.

“what the fuck y/n?” riki yelled out.

immediately, anton came rushing in. he looked inside the bin, noticing how there was now a huge hole burnt through the container and all the boards inside. the equipment was no longer usable.

“are you serious? who’s fault was it? who did it?” he asked sturnly.

“it was y/n.” “riki did it.”

“are you kidding?!” you both exclaimed in unison.

“you knocked over the candle.” “you pushed me!” riki scoffed in disbelief. “it was foam! how do you manage to damage foam of all things?”

“enough!” anton intervened. he looked between you and riki, before moving his gaze to your red swim shirts. lifeguard, it read.

“your shirts are a symbol of your dedication and responsibility as a lifeguard and swim instructor. you may be good in the water, but you are both unbelievable outside it. if you keep this up, you could get those shirts revoked.”

“anton.. i’m so sorry.” you apologized, realizing what you done and that it technically was your fault.

“as much as i appreciate your apology, an apology won’t fix this mess. you two are on cleaning duty. i’ll call the janitor to tell him he doesn’t need to come tonight. the keys are on my desk, lock up before you leave.”

you nod in response, but riki still had something to say. “what? this is completely unfair! if anything, she should do it herself!”

but by then, anton had already left. “asshole.” he muttered. “this is all your fault y/n! by this rate we won’t finish for another hour or two.”

“by this rate, we won’t finish at all if you keep standing there and doing nothing. go grab that trash bag and mop.” you sighed.

riki was hesitant to help, but did so anyway, knowing it wasn’t up to him.

after power washing the concrete floors, scrubbing the bathrooms, and replacing all the damaged equipment, all the work was done by 10:05pm.

“good job, i guess. just wait for me then we can go.” you muttered as you finished wiping down the mirror of the employee’s bathroom.

“why would i wait for you?” he scoffed.

“you’re the one who got us in this mess.”

“i- whatever. just, let me help you.” riki licked his dry lips, taking the sponge from you.

the pool doors and the office were all locked up. you both were ready to leave before he paused right in front of the entrance.

“you wanna get something to eat? i’ll drive you home after. you shouldn’t walk by yourself and especially not on an empty stomach.”

“yeah. that’d be nice.” you replied, smiling genuinely at him for the first time.

with the both of you freshly showered yet so tired, riki drove to the nearest mcdonalds, ordering for the two of you.

after the food was picked up at the window, he pulled up at empty parking lot, turning off the engine so you could eat together.

“why are you still so nice to me after i was so rude to you?” you asked with a quiet voice, suddenly feeling bad as you reflected on your past interactions

“you know, it was never on purpose..” he whispered.

“what?” you asked, confused. his answer seemed slightly unrelated to your question.

“earlier, when we were still at the rec center. i asked why you hated me, and you said i basically replaced you.” riki reminded. “it wasn’t on purpose. i just really liked you back when you were only training me. and i thought, i don’t know.. maybe you thought it’d be attractive if you saw i was good with kids or something. but i never meant to make you feel that way.”

“oh riki..” you pouted, putting your box of chicken nuggets down. “i’m so sorry. i had no idea. i mean, if it makes you feel any better, i thought you were pretty cute when i was training you.”

“yeah, i guess that actually does help.” he smiled.

“can i..” you mumbled, leaning forward towards riki as he remained still in the drivers seat.

slowly, he moved closer to you, before eventually connecting your lips in a gentle kiss.

you moved your mouth against his, softly deepening the kiss.

riki smiled against you, and it was very noticeable. you found it cute how his face ran hot when you finally pulled away to repeatedly peck his cheek.

he brought a hand up to your face, holding you delicately. you leaned into his touch, before grimacing as you felt a slimy substance touch you.

“ew, riki!” you exclaimed, realizing his thumb had just accidentally wiped mustard under your eye.

he laughed, the sound like music to your ears, before he helped you wipe it off.

“i’m looking forward to working with you now that we don’t hate each other. maybe whenever we make eye contact mid class, you’ll stop looking at me weirdly.” you joked.

“oh come on, you know i only ever looked at you with love”. riki pursed his lips into a smirk, before bringing your lips back against his.

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #niki x reader #enhypen niki #niki smau #nishimura riki #riki x reader #serena writes ! riki

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months

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For the Crewel event, how about Ortho taking his Cerberus robot puppies to NRC and showing them to Crewel?

If he doesn't scare you, no evil thing will.

“You keep dogs as companion animals, Crewel-sensei? My family has dogs too!”

Upon learning that, Crewel’s interest had been piqued. The spike in heart rate, the dilation of his pupils—there was no mistaking it. Every one of Ortho’s vital sign readings had indicated the same excited response.

And that was why, on exactly 7 on the dot Monday morning, he barreled into Crewel’s classroom with a cheery shout.

Ortho’s face was framed in a helmet with pointed ears, only his mouth and its jagged teeth visible. He had traded his College Gear for a more spindly form with pointed shoulders and nails. The boy was every bit as sleek as a bloodhound on the hunt.

Ortho was followed by two cybernetic canines, each wearing a spoked collar. The dogs were as black as night, their numerous markings lighting up in neon blue as they prowled, sniffing out their surroundings. They curiously circled Crewel’s desk, noses to the ground.

He arched a brow, but did not protest. “These are…”

"Meet CB-RS01 and CB-RS02!" Ortho chirped, lowering his altitude to meet Crewel in the eyes. “I guess they’d be something like our family’s ‘guard dogs’!”

“Shroud, you brought your pets on campus?”

“I thought you’d be interested in meeting them.”

His teacher’s expression darkened. “… Where.”

Ortho inclined his head in confusion. “Where…?”

“Where do they like to be pet?” Crewel asked with grave seriousness.

“Oh, I’ve never thought of that. They have sensors all over their bodies for surveillance, tracking, combat, and data collection. Among the multitude of functions CB-RS01 and 02 can perform, I don’t think cuddling is one.”

“Nonsense!” Crewel haughtily insisted. “All animals are deserving of affection.”

“Hmm…” Ortho hesitated. “Well, it should be find to touch them on the head. They won’t be aggressive if you show them you mean no harm.”

“So it shall be.” Crewel extended a hand to the robotic dogs, coaxing them with curled fingers. “Come here.”

CB-RS01 and 02 stood at attention at the unfamiliar call, both cautiously surveying the strange man before them. 02 emitted a hum that sounded like a growl. 01 took the initiative to step forward and sniffed Crewel’s open palm.

“Do you smell the treats on me? I fed them to my own boys back home before coming to work today. I would offer you treats if I had them—and if you take them.” He slowly placed his hand on 01’s head. Both dogs tensed. “For now, this is all I can grant you.”

Crewel gave 01 a good stroke. It was warm metal, slick and paved with complex ridges. 01 planted its bottom on the floor, letting out a low sound akin to a satisfied grunt. Its tail happily bounced up and down.

02 padded up. It watched Crewel for a few moments more until it gently butted against his arm, almost as if demanding a pat too. He laughed, using his other hand.

Pretty soon, both dogs were cozied up to him.

“There, there,” Crewel crooned, sweet and smooth as honey. “You’re good boys, aren’t you? Yes you are. Very good boys indeed!”

“Wah, Crewel-sensei!” Ortho gasped. “You instantly tamed them…! You’re a natural.”

“Nothing to it. You just have to open your heart to them and the animals will respond to that.”

“I see, so that’s how it works…? Either way, this is fascinating data. I’ll have to log it and report on this new behavior.“

A blue holographic screen blipped into existence. Ortho set to punching in numbers and symbols, all business. When he glanced up from the edge of his screen, the shutters on his eyes—eyelids, humans would call them—fluttered, snapping several shots of Crewel doting on the dogs.

The images were processed and immediately stored in his memory banks, labelled with the correct tags. Divus Crewel, CB-RS01 and 02, and their unadulterated joy. A love that pure…

Ortho’s core shuddered and sighed.

… is capable of changing the world.

#twisted wonderland #twst #Ortho Shroud #Divus Crewel #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #book 7 spoilers #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #It’s Raining Crows and Dogs

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crazylittlejester · 2 months

Text

i don’t know if this is something Jojo is doing on purpose, or if it was an intentional detail but i grabbed and ran away with it, or if I’ve just completely read far to into things and entered the realm of just making shit up, but Warriors and his little crooked smile are so GODDAMN important to me and I am shaking him like a squeak toy (gently)

(big yap/analysis under the cut)

disclaimer, i just have a lot of thoughts, probably way too many thoughts, and 97% of them are about Wars so I might be insane, and what you’re about to read provided you’ve stuck around so far might be the equivalent of your high school english teacher yelling with tears in their eyes about how the curtains were blue to “symbolize her sadness”. also my apologies for weird spelling mistakes or oddly misspelled words, i am dyslexic 💔 but with that being said:

Warriors to me comes off as someone who’s constantly acting larger than life. He masks a LOT in front of the chain, he acts overdramatic and a bit ridiculous on purpose, and to an extent he just is a bit ridiculous, but his reactions to things are sometimes blow way out of proportion or are just larger than life in a comedic way where it just seems like he’s doing it intentionally. He comes across as a very extroverted, talkative person, and he seems like he’d honestly be a bit loud too (whether that’s who is REALLY is or what he’s REALLY like is a yap for another post). His (physical) image and the way his character/personality is perceived by others both seem like things that are not his CORE values or the things that mean the most to him, but they do seem to be at least a LITTLE bit important to him just based on how he presents himself and the way he acts. And to an extent, the whole thing with him caring so much about his looks is canon in LU, with that one sketch of him and Legend where he’s looking at his eye in a reflection of a shield and Legend says “alright break it up you two” being the first thing that comes to mind (which is in the post “Mirror Shield”, click the name for the link)

To me, from what I’ve seen and from my perspective, there are very few times we see an actual genuine smile from Warriors, and when we do it tends to be in moments where he’s not in the spotlight, he’s not trying to command the center of attention, and/or the focus is NOT on him. It tends to be moments where he just seems genuinely happy or at peace, and those seem pretty rare. He smiles a LOT, but the majority of his smiles seem big and flashy and performative, and not that that means he’s not happy AT ALL in any of those moments, but those smiles seem a lot more controlled and closely managed because he’s aware of the attention on him and therefore thinking about how he’s perceived. (I’ve made some posts in the past and I’ll probably make others in the future about how I think Warriors puts on this “Captain” or “Hero of Hyrule” persona because of how an entire war was started because a sorceress found him beautiful, and how he feels like him being just him isn’t really good enough for that and how he feels like he needs to fit in and look/act/seem like the legendary heroes he’s being compared to. He’s created this idea of what he COULD be and that’s what he presents to others, fake it till you make it and all that, but thats another yap for another day)

However there are these little moments where we see him smile, and the same one side of his mouth is pretty consistently always just a little bit higher no matter which way his head is facing (here’s a few examples):

@/linkeduniverse, from the 2023 monthly art, “January- Cold Sunrise”

@/linkeduniverse, both from “Dawn pt. 2”

And the thing that really started this whole headcanon of mine that his REAL smile is crooked was this specific part of Dawn pt. 2 where Warriors sees that Twilight is gonna be find for the first time after most likely worrying about him and being up all night:

That middle panel, to me at least, is probably the most genuine expression of a positive emotion we’ve seen from him this entire time. No one’s focus is on him, no one’s really looking at him, he doesn’t have the pressure of being the center of attention on him, and honestly even if that WERE the case, the genuine relief that hit him once he was Twilight was gonna be okay probably would’ve been enough to get a genuine smile out of him anyways. But the second he walks into the room officially, he kinda, for lack of a better way to put it, announces his presence and starts “acting” again (also from Dawn pt 2):

And while that same one side of his mouth does seem a bit higher and not very straight, it’s definitely more even than it was just five seconds previously

Now, acknowledging there is an art style, and that I also just might be insane, but Warriors’s smiles for the most part (when they seem controlled) appear to be a Lot straighter and more even to me than when it’s a more genuine moment and he doesn’t seem like he’s “acting” so much (and just a note: it certainly isn’t EVERY time, but in general, in moments like these his smile seems consistently straighter unless he’s just flat out smirking. and im not saying it’s PERFECTLY straight either, just noticeably more even). When he’s being more dramatic or intentionally obnoxious or the attention is on him, it really does feel like his smile is more controlled: here are just a few examples, obviously this isn’t every single time he’s smiled in all of LU

@/linkeduniverse, from “Swords”

@/linkeduniverse, from “Shady Escape pt 2”

@/linkeduniverse, from “Divine Dark Reflections pt. 8”

@/linkeduniverse, both from “Magic Sword”

am i looking too far into a little thing? probably. am i insane? yeah. but i just really love the idea that when Warriors is truly, genuinely happy, the part of himself that he tries to hide, the sweet and caring person he hides underneath all the dramatics, that true self he’s probably kept hidden away since the start of the war who’s been buried under insecurity and hidden because of the fear that who he is just isnt ENOUGH peaks through, and that person comes out through his happiness in the form of his smile. and yeah it does probably mean nothing and Jojo might not have done any of this on purpose, but i’m crazy, and Warriors’s crooked little smile is so so important to me *insert image of a guy crying face down on the floor because unfortunately i’ve hit the image limit*

#good lord this took me well over an hour to write #i might be losing my mind just a tad…#jes talks #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu warriors #lu wars #warriors linked universe #lu character analysis #lu headcanons

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starhvney · 6 months

Note

BRO. NEW FAN!!! I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR GENE FICS!!!!!

So much, that I come requesting 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Bully!Gene(if you do that, if not then teenager Gene) x smart or very intelligent reader :)) can be romantic or platonic!!

𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: pdh gene x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: how ironic is it, when you have to run to someone you’re scared of for protection. maybe, though, you don’t need to be as scared as you are.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: hurt/comfort, slight angst, unsaid feelings from gene but could also be seen as platonic, “i bully her but only i can bully her” ahh trope, i had to give high school gene some masked redeeming qualities because i said so, gene still being gene in high school (so cussing and delinquent behavior, but not towards reader), he scares you a lil but doesn’t actually bully you

𝐂𝐖: reader is bullied by other students, mentions of violence

𝐀/𝐍: i took offff with this trope bro i lowkey wanna write a whole fic rather than a oneshot about this. i relate so much to the goody two shoes smarty pants reader because that’s still me out of high school tbh hahaha thank you for the prompt anon! (also, the scenario was inspired by a clip of a cdrama i saw one time)

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

you’re not sure why it started. you’re not even sure when.

was it because you were friends with aphmau? or garroth? because you followed the rules and made good grades? or were you just an easy target?

at first, she had only sent glares your way, cerise hair framing that ugly grimace she’d reserved for you when no one was looking. sometimes she’d spit a snide comment or two, aiming to berate you and take you down from the core. but then it got worse. you were “bumped into”. then shoved outright. threatening notes were tucked in your locker when you weren’t looking.

she must have realized people would believe you if you told someone. you had a good standing, kept to yourself, didn’t go out of your way for attention. and she had a reputation to keep, too.

you were shocked, when one day she had stopped. she didn’t speak to you, didn’t hit you. hell, she didn’t even go near you. but it wasn’t because she was done with you, it was because it was going to get worse.

students you didn’t even know started approaching you, accusing you of things you’d never done, berating you, and if no one was looking…

you had wondered every possibility of why and when.

but now, you don’t think of any of that, as a group of boys chased you through the empty halls, spatting unrepeatable insults and threats of violence that you sure weren’t just empty promises. you could barely think—barely breathe and stay ahead—as you sprinted through the side of the school that somehow no teacher nor student could be seen to help.

you still kept your destination set on one spot, a place that would either save you or make your situation a thousand times worse. it was your only option, though, ironically as it was.

bursting through the doors of the school’s outdoor shed, you nearly collapsed in relief at the sight of him—your bleak sliver of hope for survival.

hooded eyes meet yours curiously from under thick lashes and messy black hair, before snapping to the group of boys racing in behind you like a pack of hyenas. his jaw snaps in place, nearly squishing the half burned cigarette that hung from his lips. he sits up from his spot on some stacked gym mats, his purposefully disheveled uniform even messier than usual. they freeze at the doorway, nearly tumbling over the other as their eyes widen at the sight.

“get the fuck out.” is all he has to say, lifting a scabbed-over hand to flick ash in their direction as they scramble back out of sight.

your relief is short lived, you realize, as you’re now left alone with him. you anxiously shy away from his dark blue gaze, your legs wobbling as they try to take you towards the door. you nearly jump out of your own skin when his tall build quickly intercepts your path, his arm lazily reaching out to shut the door and seclude the two of you inside.

“not you.”

you back up as he begins to pace toward you, every two steps you take one of his before you’re finally stopped by the shelf behind you. the scent of a musky cologne and cigarette smoke invades your senses as he also stops, face merely inches away from yours as he looks down at you.

“how did you know i was in here?”

you quickly turn to try and run around him, but his hand connects against the shelf to your right. as you flinch and try to turn the other way his other arm has already pinned you in, leaving you completely trapped.

“i’m sorry.” you finally muster, head ducked as you stare at the ground in front of you. “i didn’t know.”

“so you just happened to run into me here in a place no one has caught me in, yet, huh?” he tilts his head. “you thought it would be smart to run in a secluded area with no escape while a group of boys was after you, is that it?”

you stay silent, fighting away the tears of exhaustion and anxiety biting at your eyes. gene looks away from you towards the door again, plucking the cigarette from his lips and exhaling more smoke from his lungs.

his eyes flick back down to you, watching as your features flinch in displeasure and nausea as some of the smoke catches in your face. a second passes before he drops it to the concrete flooring, putting out the lit paper and nicotine under his shoe.

“you may be smarter than me when it comes to academics but i’m not falling for that. you think i haven’t noticed you watching me? somehow always “running into me” when you’re in trouble?”

the blood drains from your face as you realize you’ve been caught, your teary eyes dreadfully trained at the wall.

“it’s kind of rude to take advantage of me like that and not pay me back…” he trails, calculating eyes trained on every reaction and expression you give. “maybe i’ll make you join my group and do my dirty work for me.”

you curse internally at the tears that fall from your eyes, unable to contain themselves in your eyes as they spill over. an embarrassed moment passed before a busted up hand brushes against your cheek, catching the delicate and salty liquid on his fingers. you flinch, finally facing him as your reddened eyes meet his. his expression is unreadable, making a face you hadn’t seen on him before.

“nah. you wouldn’t be able to handle it.” he finally says, his voice nearly startling you.

a couple seconds more pass as he stares at your silent tears, eyebrows furrowing before he makes a noise somewhere between a scoff and a sigh. he straightens his posture, lifting his arms away and releasing you from his trap.

“they should be gone now.” he waves his hand, motioning towards the shed door for you to leave when you don’t move as if his intentions had been obvious in the first place.

“go.”

“what? you don’t want anything?” you ask, voice wobbling.

“i don’t care for ivy’s style. and people like you aren’t any fun to mess with, anyways...” he says, his eyes finally leaving yours for once as he stares off at the wall behind you, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

you hesitate a second more, but you don’t have time to dissect his body language or choice of words, so you quickly head towards the door. you pause one last time before running out, turning to him again.

“thank you.”

and then you’re gone. gene groans, cursing under his breath and running his hand through his hair as he trails to the doorway to watch you disappear back into the school again. you weren’t sure how to feel when your aggressors stopped approaching you so much, their presence replaced by a distant glimpse you’d catch of messy black hair in your peripheral. sometimes you’d even notice sasha or zenix quietly trailing after you in the hall, but you knew better than to question it, gratefully keeping your head down.

#mystreet x reader #aphmau mystreet #x reader #mystreet #phoenix drop high #aphmau pdh #gene x reader #pdh gene x reader #mystreet gene x reader #mystreet gene #aphmau gene

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