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kitty-tea · 4 months

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We’re all weird

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Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader (formerly)

Hi this is my first time writing something for Harry Potter. The idea for this plot’s kind of based off a dream I had which is why some stuff doesn’t make sense. Like the setting. I know every autistic person has a different experience, so I tried to write this as similar to my own experiences as I could. Also the story doesn’t follow the main timeline of the books or movies. I don’t own any characters except reader and the four first year students.

Whether the reader is diagnosed or not, it’s open to interpretation

Summary: After you catch Draco cheating on you, you’re forced to go to a school banquet. Unfortunately you can’t avoid anyone.

Tags/warnings: ableism, internalized ableism, name calling, reader has an emotional outburst, Dumbledore being confusing, reader is autistic, social isolation, bullying, teasing, Draco being mean, pure blood supremacy, mentions of cheating, angst

You looked around the venue for an empty table. You were one of the last people to arrive, so all the tables were taken. If only you hadn’t spent the last hour overthinking and dreading this event, you could have gotten ready and arrived a lot sooner instead of grabbing one of the last portkeys that were set up at the school.

The theme of the party was for the students to dress in their house colors. Being a Slytherin, you wore an off the shoulder emerald silk dress that went down to your feet, accentuated with a slit that showed off your entire left leg. You decided to keep your hair down to use as a curtain for your face as you always did as a way to avoid eye contact.

As your eyes scanned the rows of small tables lined along the room horizontally, they met the very reason you were dreading coming here. You spotted the group of Slytherins from your year, which included your ex-boyfriend Draco and his friends, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle. Draco had his arm around Pansy, who looked over to you, which drew the attention of everyone else at the table.

“Look, it’s Flappy-hands.” Even through all the people talking in the room, you managed to hear Pansy’s comment referring to your habit of flapping your hands when you were happy or excited about something.

You saw Goyle get up from his seat. He started to flap his hands while jumping up and down. Even though you had a harder time reading people’s intentions, you knew he

“I can’t believe I ever dated a freak like her.” Draco was telling his friends. “She brings shame to Slytherin. Would’ve been better off as a Hufflepuff.” He rolled his eyes.

“Only because she's a pure-blood, but that doesn’t mean they should let freaks like her into the Wizarding World.” Blaise said.

“Dumbledore only made her Head Girl because he felt sorry for her. He’s the only one too.” Pansy laughed.

You knew that wasn’t the case as evidenced by your several conversations with him. Dumbledore always knew you were different from other students even before you figured it out, it seemed. When you came to him to question what made you deserve this position, he said something about how he knew you were one of the rare people who would never abuse their position, and that the extra responsibilities would help you grow as a person.

“She really earned her place as Head Girl.” Crabbe smirked before adding, “she’s the Head of the freaks.”

You were in no place to cry at the moment. You wished you could be in one of your “safe rooms” around the school where no one would be around you to bother you.

A few tables in front of the seventh year Slytherins, you spotted the table with the Gryffindors from your year along with Ginny and Luna. Every time you saw Harry Potter with his friends, you couldn’t help but feel jealous. You didn’t know why. Maybe it was because of how well they all seem to belong together, except for when they got into fights but that was normal for any friend group. Everytime you’d pass by them, you’d think about how nice it would be to be friends with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They might as well have been friends with every Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff too. They were welcoming towards students from other houses, except for yours which made you feel left out from the rest of the school. Especially during your fifth year when you found out Harry and his friends formed a secret group called Dumbledore’s Army, and hadn’t invited anyone from Slytherin. Not only was that group in on something you weren’t, but so were your former friends. You felt like a reject in the middle.

Your thoughts were consumed by the events of the past week and the course of your overall social life.

Everything from the day Draco asked you to be his girlfriend to that time you came back into the common room after patrolling the halls and saw him making out with Pansy on the couch invaded your memories. You were completely clueless to the fact that Draco had been flirting with you for the last two years, so it was a surprise to have him ask you out and call you beautiful. Everyone in your group could see how flirtatious he was except for you.

You had years of practice of holding in your tears when something emotional would randomly pop into your mind, this should be no different, you thought.

For as long as you’ve been in school, Draco, and all the other Slytherins from your year were the only people you’ve ever hung out with. Even though you hung out with that group for years, you always felt that there was something off, like you didn’t really belong, and they seemed to think that way too. It wasn’t until you broke off from them that the insults about your differences came at you unrestrained. They’d point out every little thing about you that they found odd, most of which were things you didn’t notice about yourself.

Before you became Head Girl when you used to share a dorm with the other girls, you’d catch them whispering to each other about the little odd things about you they would notice, like how you didn’t understand when you weren’t welcome into a conversation or how there were jokes and expressions you took seriously. You didn’t know how to stick up for yourself without crying, so all you could do was pretend to sleep by using your covers and pillow to muffle your sniffles.

It was a break from your routine after you cut them off where you were left completely lost and confused. You liked routines and order in your life. It was like having the rail of the stairs to hold onto for a long time and relying on it to get you through it, only for it to be snatched from you.

After you had caught your ex-boyfriend making out with Pansy, you used the disillusionment charm to sneak into your dorm where you cried. Not bothering to change out of your uniform, you hatched a plan to get revenge on Draco the next day, to humiliate him in front of the whole school. The plan was that you would intercept him in the courtyard after class and throw all your rage at him, then yell exactly what he’d done in front of everyone. What you didn’t plan was for him and his friends to laugh in your face as they told you that he’d been cheating on you with Pansy since a month into your relationship when he wanted to give up on “dating the freak.” You thought the other students from other houses around you would defend you, but with you being a Slytherin, you should’ve known that they’d keep quiet as you ran away since you were associated with that notorious group.

You were so in your thoughts that you didn’t pay attention to which table you sat yourself at.

“Hello.” You heard a small, high pitch voice from across you. As quickly as you turned to the owner of the voice, you looked down at your lap. It was a first-year Gryffindor student. Next to her was a Hufflepuff boy, also a first-year. It had just come to your attention that you, a seventh-year student, was sitting at a table full of first-years. To your left, you saw a Ravenclaw boy and to the opposite side of you, a Slytherin girl you didn’t recognize. You knew they were first years mostly because they were wearing their school uniforms instead of the fancy dresses and suits the older students were allowed to wear. You assumed the first-years had to show up in their uniforms so that the older students would be able to distinguish the ones who needed guidance more or something like that.

“Aren’t you the Head Girl?” The Gryffindor student asked you.

“Yeah.” You forced yourself to look into her eyes briefly before you spotted the staff table at the back of the room and looked down. You had come close to making eye contact with Draco’s father, Lucius. You should’ve known he’d be there. He was the governor of Hogwarts. Besides your former group, he was the person you were dreading to see for the rest of the night. You used your fingers to brush some hair in front of your face, hoping he wouldn’t see you.

“Why are you hiding your face?” The same girl sitting across from you asked. Shielding half of your face with your hand now, you looked up at her.

“There’s someone here I don’t want to see tonight.” You whispered.

“Who?” The same girl asked, not lowering her voice.

“There’s a man behind you. He’s sitting at the staff table. He’s the blonde man next to Professor Snape. His name is Lucius Malfoy. He’s my ex’s father and the Hogwarts governor.”

“Oh yeah,” the Slytherin girl sitting to your right piped up. “I’ve seen you around a lot with your friends.”

“They’re not my friends anymore.”

“Sorry, I forgot your name. We’re all first years. We don’t really know a lot of people at the school.” The Gryffindor girl said to you. After introducing yourself, they told you their names. The Gryffindor’s name was Melanie, the Slytherin’s name was Kayla, the Ravenclaw’s name was Stuart, and the Hufflepuff was named Owen.

“Why did you and your boyfriend break up?” Kayla asked you. You would’ve thought that she’d be more informed about your house’s gossip, but seeing as her friend told you that they didn’t know a lot of people, you deduced that the four of them mostly kept to each other for company more than students of their own houses.

“I caught him cheating on me with another girl from our house. It’s because they all think I’m weird. They’ve been calling me a freak.” You stopped yourself from saying more. You did not want to start crying.

“It’s okay we’re all weird here.” Melanie said.

“Yeah that’s why we have each other.” Stuart said.

You looked up at all four of them, smiling at their apparent welcomeness towards you. You quickly realized you shouldn’t have looked up again as you spotted Lucius and Snape having a separate conversation from the rest of their table, about you probably.

“I think they’re looking at us.” Stuart tapped on your shoulder. You flinched. “Sorry, do you not like being touched?”

“Don’t you?” You asked him.

“No, it’s fine I hug my friends and family all the time.” He smiled. “You’re like my cat. He hates being touched too.” You couldn’t understand how there were people who were okay with being touched, it felt smothering to you.

Stuart left the mostly one-sided conversation to dig into his plate which gave you time to eavesdrop on the one Lucius and Snape were having.

“I see your son’s ex-girlfriend has distanced herself from her usual friends.” You could hear Snape say even through all the noise of overlapping conversations around you.

As quickly as the two participants of the conversation looked over to you, you hung your head down for the umpteenth time that night.

After a while of you taking your eyes off them, you could feel two new presences behind you, and you didn’t like it at all. You were dreading the words you predicted would come out of Lucius’ mouth should he come into contact with you tonight.

It was Snape who spoke first instead. “If it isn’t the Head Girl, hanging out with the four troublemakers I have the delight of having as my students.”

“Good evening, sir.” It was the first sentence you heard Owen say since he told you his name.

You knew if you turned around you’d see the same scowl you’d grown familiar with seeing over the years.

“Aren’t you, an eighteen-year-old about to graduate, too old to be hanging out with first years? You won’t even be there for them next year.” Snape spoke to you.

With a shaky breath, you forced yourself to look into the eyes of the two men as you turned around in your chair.

Lucius put a hand on Snape’s shoulder. “If you recall our first meeting where I, a seventh year Head Boy befriended you, a first year, you wouldn’t be so harsh on her. She’s only doing for them what I did for you.” You were confused that your ex’s father was apparently defending you.

“I’m going off what happened.” He explained.

“You’re her ex’s dad aren’t you?” Owen turned to him with a raised eyebrow. That made Lucius’ attention snap away from you.

“Did you know your son cheated on her, that’s just mean.” Kayla said.

“How dare you disrespect your elders like that.” Snape clenched his fists. “I’ll be taking ten points from the five of you each. Such disgrace coming from my own house. Unbelievable.” He scoffed.

“That’s not fair.” Melanie argued.

“Does anyone want detention?” Snape warned and everyone at your table shut their mouths.

“I was not aware you and Draco were no longer together until your teacher mentioned it. I’m usually the first person who hears from him.” Lucius said to you. “Really disappointing how you turned out, given the pure blood family you come from.”

Throughout your relationship, you thought the less time you spent with Draco’s parents, the less likely they’ll come to find out about the part of you and your personality you were desperate to keep hidden from other wizards for the sake of you seeming normal to them. And now you knew Snape spilled everything to him, every single thing that made you different that he was able to pick off you.

“Will you stop acting like a child who was caught being naughty and look into the eyes of whomever is speaking to you? As I’ve told you over and over?” You had to suppress the urge to swat Snape’s hand away as he reached down to pull the curtain of hair hovering over half your face. Now, both of your eyes were on him. Even with makeup on, your face felt naked without your hair covering it.

“She doesn’t like it when people touch her, you know. She didn’t do anything wrong.” Kayla glared at him.

He pulled his hand away from you. “That is the second time you have disrespected me tonight.” He glared back at the younger girl.

“She’s just a child, it’s understandable to have the instinct to defend someone who’s unable to do it for themselves.” It hurt that Lucius was taking a jab at your inability to stand up for yourself, something he picked up on really quick. Why couldn’t you pick up things about other people like that?

Snape’s eyes were on you again. You used a trick Dumbledore taught you where you looked at people’s forehead or eyebrows whenever you’d get uncomfortable and overwhelmed with holding eye contact. You used that trick on Snape quite often.

“As someone who’s about to graduate, you should know that the real world won’t be as forgiving of your freakish nature as Professor Dumbledore or your little friends. You know how they treat werewolves and Squibs.”

“I know.” You spoke for the first time in the conversation. You were converting your anger towards how the world had treated you into courage to stand up for yourself. At least that’s how you thought of it “The whole school actually made sure of it when they made it clear I’m not welcome here with the rest of you people!”

You didn’t have much volume control or awareness, and you didn’t know most of the people in the room heard what you said until Snape and Lucius looked around themselves. Your eyes followed theirs. Everyone had halted their conversations.

You saw Draco slap his palm against his forehead, muttering “she’s so embarrassing.”

“So is his father.” Harry whispered to his friends. You heard him and his friends snicker, but Draco didn’t.

“Yes, Draco and Harry. Your father and I are an embarrassment to Slytherin! Whatever!” You snapped at them. “Everyone should go ahead and tell each other how much of a loser I am too!” Your voice started to tremble and so did the tear running down your cheek. “About how I’ve never been truly welcomed in any of you all’s friend groups.”

“If I’d been sorted into Slytherin I would’ve known just how mental she is. Almost feel sorry for Malfoy. And I thought you were the mental one at first, Hermione.” You heard another snide whisper, this time from Ron.

“We’ll maybe if you and the whole school weren’t so closed off in your anti-Slytherin world you would’ve gotten to know me as a person and exactly how mental you think I am or am not!” You shouted at him. He flinched back in his chair. Even though he and the whole school had seen your meltdowns, this was the first time he was the subject of it.

“She’s right. If only Potter’s little friends and us ever got together, then we could all agree and talk about how weird she is.” Draco said and you took a step forward, but Snape grabbed your arm, holding you back.

“Enough!” He yelled harshly enough for Ron to sink into his chair even further.

“Severus, trust me you’ll want to lay your hand off her.” Dumbledore stood up from the staff table and walked over to you.

You didn’t think he sounded mad, but you couldn’t tell most of the time.

Snape let go of you.

“Everyone, you may go back to your previous social engagements.” Dumbledore addressed the whole room.

“Albus, she needs to be disciplined more harshly than the others. I just know she does. Look at the example she’s setting for the younger students.” Snape said to Dumbledore as soon as everyone else started to mind their own businesses.

“I’ll take care of it.” He said and looked over at you. Without any words of objection, Snape and Lucius resumed their places at the staff table, not looking back at the four students that were just talking to them. “I’d like to speak to you alone. This way.” Dumbledore said gently.

You were too ashamed of the way you acted to do anything but nod your head as you followed him on shaky legs to the entrance hall outside the room. You hated how you couldn’t seem to keep your emotions in check as much as everyone else did. It was something that other people would notice about you and call you out as being weak.

As soon as you were alone with Dumbledore, the sobs you held in exploded. “I’m so sorry, I know you’re angry with me. Blaise was right about me being a freak and how I don’t deserve a place in the Wizarding World. And Pansy said you only made me Head Girl because of pity. I tried so hard to be normal, but I can’t.”

Throughout your rambling and sobbing, Dumbledore didn’t interrupt you. Another way Dumbledore treated you different from how the adults treated you was that instead of interrupting you or trying to finish your sentences when you got stuck, he patiently waited for you to finish them yourself.

“I think Snape knows. He knows how… how much I’m not like the others. Please don’t tell him you know too. I can’t have him be… he can’t find out. He thinks something’s off about me. And he hates me for it. He’s ashamed of me and so am I.”

“I see.” Dumbledore said quietly, folding his hands in front of him. “And while I’ll respect your decision to keep some things about yourself private, I can only tell you it’s not something to do lightly.”

“What do you mean?” You were always confused when Dumbledore gave you advice in a cryptic way.

“Let’s just say one can only keep a house made up of mud for so long before it starts raining profusely.” You still didn’t understand the sayings he’d throw at you. You’d always get frustrated with figurative expressions. Why couldn’t people say exactly word for word what they mean?

“Why would I need to build a house with mud? We don’t live in that type of climate. Bricks would be easier to access where my family is from.” Dumbledore chuckled. If someone laughed at something you said it was because they were making fun of you. Dumbledore was the only person you trusted enough to know that wasn’t his intention.

“I can’t be angry with you for the person you are.” Dumbledore brought the topic back to where it was before. “When I was in school, I remember thinking everything I would learn in the classroom and the books would prepare me for what was to come in the real world. I was wrong. The best teachers are often our own experiences. And I think you and your classmates will share those same thoughts after graduating.”

“Thank you, sir.” You said. “I’ll um, get back to the party.”

“Oh, and one last thing.” Dumbledore said as you turned you were about to turn your back. “Before you leave school, I want you to always remember that you should never be ashamed to be who you are.”

“What if people don’t like me for who I am? That’s always the case.” You interjected. Even if you found people who cared for you and accepted you, you didn’t think you’d be able to do it for yourself.

“Which is why I said you should never be ashamed of yourself for your differences.” Dumbledore answered before telling you to go back into the room. You were left wondering if other people thought Dumbledore was just as much of a confusing person as you did.

Let me know what you think!

#harry potter fanfiction #reader insert #autistic reader #fanfic #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #angst #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #no use of y/n #written by an autistic person #bullied reader

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lipglossanon · 5 months

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Ugh imagine reader gets bullied but doesn‘t wanna say anything because maybe she‘s ashamed ? Or just feels like a burden, like the bullys got real bad. And the only way Leon finds out is because it escalates so bad that either they do something to the house or straight up release bully videos to social media.

I‘m just a sucker for hurt.

Hiya anon!

Thank you for your patience! 🫣

And we’ll say the bully does something to the house so that way Leon sees it for sure.

And since she’s a girl I’m going to say her bullies are also girls (since they’re less prone to physical violence and more just about harassing and making someone’s life miserable).

Leon gets home early for once and sees some shitty graffiti scrawled on the house, calling you a bitch or a slut or who knows just that it’s not good.

Super confused, Leon goes into the house and finds you crying in your room, startled when you realize he’s home.

At first you’re quiet about what’s happening, you don’t want to bother him with your problem. It’s just some stupid girls at school who for some reason don’t like you.

Leon sits on your bed and coaxes you into his arms and then he has a handful of sniffly reader, reluctantly telling him in fits and starts all about the bullying and how it’s escalated recently.

He’s pissed off. Hates that he can’t just go kick these bullies’ asses for making his pretty girl cry.

He’s sweet to you, telling you that you’re so strong for telling him and that he’ll handle it, that you don’t have to worry about it anymore.

And honestly just telling Leon about your problems makes you feel better anyways, so you let him cuddle you and tell you how much he loves you and how he’s always going to be there for you.

And I looove when bullies get their comeuppance so after Leon takes care of you, he goes and pulls up the footage from the surveillance cameras and sends a copy of it along with the ‘damage’ to the house to the cops and presses charges against the bullies who gets kicked out of school and also forced to pay for the damage 😌 (a restraining order is also filed 👌 lol). I know it’s probably not plausible but let’s go with it haha

#ask box #anon #lipglossanon #lipglossanswers #bullying #bullied reader #trigger warning

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lover4st · 2 years

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eddie munson x little sister!reader

I AM IGNORING VOL 2 BECAUSE I AM MENTALLY NOT OKAY WITH IT.

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Since this is his 3rd time doing senior year, it means that you and he are in the same grade this year.

He is fine with that so he can protect you more but then he hates that you might get teased a little for it.

When he sees the popular girls messing with you, he doesn’t know what to do (because he is a respectful man and doesn’t hurt women in any way shape or form).

When he sees Chrissy in the woods, he asks her what he should do while they are talking. And she says she will try to talk to them.

And Eddie makes the decision to talk to you so he can really understand what’s going on.

You say it’s been going on for a while and you got used to it so it’s fine, which he was not fine with (because no one hurts his little sister).

He has to let it happen because he doesn’t know what else to do and if he tries to be weird you will just get made fun of more, but one day he sees them stick gum in your hair. And he gets so upset. Especially because he has gotten gum stuck in his hair and with those precious curls, it causes so much trouble.

He runs over and drags you away from the situation while the girls are teasing you for getting your brother to save you.

Eddie helps you get the gum out of your hair without ruining it, it just looks a little weird.

Eddie makes you stick with him, all day every day. Even walked you to your classes and try to get out of his classes early to get you. You guys have the same class or two.

Eddie makes you sit with him at lunch and one of his friends makes the worst decision and makes a joke about it.

When I say he stopped smiling that moment and threatened to hurt him, I mean it.

He doesn’t care what happens to himself, but anyone brings his sister into anything at all, some shit is going down.

He makes you go to the Hellfire meetings, but you don’t join them in it.

You sit in the corner and read the whole time.

And Eddie has no idea how you finish books so quickly. You might recommend some books to him and make him read a chapter or two every day.

He finds it annoying sometimes.

You guys do the homework together because you make him, and if you figure out he didn’t do it, you hide his guitar.

And it sets him off (his guitar is his baby), you make him do it and then you will give it back to him once all the homework is done and the next day it is turned in. You are one of the only reasons he is passing at the moment.

You help him with papers sometimes, and he doesn’t mind the help sometimes.

And Uncle Wayne didn’t give you a curfew, Eddie did.

He also made sure he always drove you; no one was allowed to pick you up.

Boys were terrified to date you because of the interrogations they heard Eddie gives each individual boy.

And he lets them know they are not good enough for you.

Eddie drives you to the dates and restates the rules he’s made every single time.

One of the times you didn’t go to one of the Hellfire meetings because you said you weren’t feeling well, you brought your boyfriend over.

And it ended earlier than usual cause he wanted to make sure you were fine, and he saw you cuddling with your boyfriend on the couch.

Oh, he got pissed.

He dragged your boyfriend off of you and made him sit outside while he talked to you.

That is one of the main reasons you have to go with Eddie to each Hellfire meeting.

He said no boys, till they’re men.

And he said that doesn’t happen till they are 20.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x sister!reader #eddie munson x little sister!reader #reader #female reader #protective eddie munson #protective eddie #eddie munson fluff #bullied reader #eddie munson drabble #munsunny

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nakimesbiwa · 2 months

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All for you~

Bullied!Fem!Reader. I'm not going to put who's going to be the crush or the main factor. So, read to see for yourself! Also, a warning for Yandere themes, only in the other parts though. AND MOST IMPORTANTLY- All the characters are aged up;( The last thing; is that I got this idea, painfully from c.ai.. So the reader goes by (Ukiouma, Uki, or even Ukio.), and if you don't like the name you can switch it!

This is Part 1.

Today, Ukiouma is packing up, she finally got accepted into a school, which means, she doesn't have to go back and forth between her home and school- they have dorms. Although she isn't abandoning her home, she surely will miss it. As she picks up her backpack she sighs, "Mom and Dad would be proud of me..", she smiles. Unluckily, a few months ago- her parents died in a car accident that set Ukiouma in a depression, but to her parent's wishes- she still pushed toward her goal. She quietly walks out of her room as she closes the door, running downstairs. She finally reaches the front door, she looks back and all she does is just a simple smile before opening the door and walking out. Since the school she applied for isn't far away, she walked there as the sun shines brightly on her face- which gets her hot of course but she doesn't stop there.

Luckily, since it's the first day, the students get one day off to unpack their stuff- and the school is still open which causes people to hang out in the meantime. Ukiouma looks at the school which is surprisingly huge and is connected to the dorms, and it has three pathways; one is to the school, the other one is to a garden, and lastly, the other one is to the dorms. She slowly walks to the dorm's pathway as she feels nervous about starting school tomorrow- She hasn't had a good experience with people (Students.) as she was bullied at her other school. It left a bad scar on her, it was so bad that it made her kind of unstable, mentally. With all these thoughts going on in her head she finally goes to the end of the path, she looks up to see the dorms, and as the school is; it's huge. She can see a few people which makes her anxious. She makes her way up the stairs. looking around and they seem nice- She finally makes it up to her dorm and she opens it; it reminds her of a Japanese apartment, which is a good thing. She takes off her shoes at the entrance and sets her backpack down, She is going to unpack her things later as she was kind of too lazy to do it herself. And it even has a kitchen, stove, TABLES, STOOLS, A SMALL LIVING ROOM, AND ONE BEDROOM? This dorm had it all and she liked it. But then she remembered that they had a uniform and that the paper said it should be sitting right in her room, so she went there and the bedroom was… Good? But the uniform looked better. The thing she hoped was that the skirt wouldn't be that short, this one was middle-length. But mind off that- all she wanted to do was chill or sleep, she thought of going on a walk in the garden! Just to get a first impression of it.

She gets out of her dorm and walks down the stairs, she walks to the garden pathway, she looks around- all the flowers, plants, and mushrooms look so pretty to her that she just wants to steal them but sadly she can't. As she's walking down the path she stops to see this very pretty flower as she leans in towards it and looks down to see more, she sees a SNAKE. She leans back a bit. She is frozen, she's sweating and is scared… But who snake is this, all she wanted to do was to scream and run away or walk away as she usually does… But after 10 whole minutes, she gets the courage to slowly pick up the snack and analyze it. It's white and has red eyes, well that's a one-of-a-kind snake! She slowly but gently pets it as she says, "Now… W-who do you belong t-t-to?", she looks around because surely this pretty snake must have an owner right?! She walks with it while the snake slithers around her arm, even if the snake bites her- she tries not to throw it across from her. She just stares at the snake as she walks, and that leads her to bump into somebody but she slightly loses her grip on the snake. As she looks up a person is standing or towering over her as they look down at her. A voice says, "I-is.. That- my snake?", the person says in a low voice, Ukiouma slightly blushes, "I-i-i- Wait.. It's… Yours?", She tilts her head a bit as she regains her position. "Uh.. Yes? I… Been looking for it, for a while now.", In Ukiouma's mind- it makes an 'oh' sound as she nervously smiles and hands it back to him after that she quietly asks- in her kind nature, "If-you..um… Don't mind me asking… What's your name?", He stares at her, "My name is Obanai- But you can call me iguro.", Ukiouma nods at him as she looks away but looks back. "Uh.. Thank you for telling me your name!", She giggles nervously. Iguro nods slightly, "Thank you for giving me my snake back..", He whispers, "Is your name.. Ukiouma by chance?", Ukiouma gets shocked and creeped out by how he knows her name but they only just meant- but it gets overshadowed by her kindness and her just thinking that it's just a convinced. "Yea.. That's my name!", Obanai smiles slightly but you can't see it, because he has a white mask on. "I have to go… But I hope we meet again okay?", He says in an unexpectedly soft tone, Ukiouma nods, "Me too! Bye!" Before Obanai does, Ukiouma turns away but that thought of Iguro knowing her name is making her feel weird, but hopefully it's not as weird as she sees it right? As she enters her dorm, she already feels like it's been a long day, and the stress seems to be getting on to her as she lazily walks to her room and flops on the bed, immediately falling asleep.

She wakes up and slowly opens her eyes, she yawns and thinks to herself, "I hate this already…Hm.", She sits up on her bed and looks around- she already regrets not unpacking her stuff but she gets through it. She gets up and walks to her bathroom, lowering her doe eyes as she sees how messy her hair is. Luckily, they already have a pre-hairbrush there, so she quickly uses it- after that, she puts some skeleton clips on her hair. She smiles and gets out as she picks out one of the pairs of uniforms she has walked back, and puts it on. Feeling somewhat proud; she puts on a black jacket and her shoes- finds that it is 6:30 am by looking at her phone; she lazes around and finds time to unpack her clothes and items to make it easier for her the next morning. She's so busy doing this that she doesn't know that it's 7:20 am by now. She looks back at her phone and immediately gets up and runs to the front door, running to the campus to get to her first class. Finally, reaching the front door of the school it takes her to use a little bit of her strength to just open one door. She sighed and mumbled to herself, "I-I hope.. I-am not late..T-to c-class.", As she walked down the hallway it was almost empty in fact, but then she remembered that she hadn't even brought her school bag and her schedule sheet.. So she's lost at peak here. All she remembered was that it said 13- WAIT 13? OH.. And 2nd floor. She ran up the stairs but slowed down her pace as she reached the front slider door, the fact is, she was so nervous as she was late to her first-ever class. She slowly opens the door as everyone stares at her, and the teacher gives a quick glare before going back to her class as she sits down she still stares at her but it has gone down to a few, and it makes her feel weird… s like a normal student, she takes notes, but she can still see someone looking at her, no.. Just one person looking at her. What was it? Her eyes look slightly to the side and sees this boy- who looks like a girl.. he has hair loose with two clumps protruding slightly from each side of his head, a set of marginally shorter hair left down to frame his face, and unruly bangs over his forehead. And His pale turquoise eyes are large and empty-looking, staring right at her with no expression whichsoever. What does he want? Why is he staring at her like that? Her eyes slowly go back to her work but she gets an aura a him that he.. dangerous? But he didn't look like that type of person, so it got overshadowed easily as she shouldn't be thinking of a person she hadn't even met before, and she shouldn't judge a book by its cover, he can be a good person after all!..

(His not a dangerous person… Right? RIGHT?)

#x y/n #demon slayer x y/n #y/n #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #yandere stories #demon slayer x female reader #kny muichiro #Bullied reader #im back #lolll

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the-heavenly-principles · 1 year

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Eichi with bullied s/o (! Era)

Oh boy, if you are one who bullies his s/o, then don't be suprised if your reputation will go down

He have money, power, and more

If you don't want go to school, then he will help you with your classes

And by the time you would come back to school, the person who bullied you will probably run away far away from you

I think he is not that good at comforting, rather he prefers to hug you, and let you spill everything

And if bullying got physical before, then they be better prepared, because I wouldn't want to be in their skin

Ya'll wish me luck, because today I'm going to see school therapist, to tell about these two boys from my class, they called me a slut, a whore, and did many more things.

#ensemble stars #ensemble stars x reader #enstars #enstars x reader #eichi tenshouin x reader #eichi tenshouin #bullied reader

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jewbeloved · 2 years

Note

how would the main 4 (can be either together or seperate i dont mind ^^) react if their friend gets bullied/mistreated just because they’re west asian/poc ?

if you are busy with other requests please feel free to ignore this one, wouldnt want to stress you out even more <3

Team Stan with a bullied black s/o🤕🥺💗💗💓

Warnings: mentions of scars and bruises

Gender: Neutral

❤️🧡 The Main Four 💙💚

They never knew that you were being bullied until they noticed that the scars and bruises all over your body appeared each and everyday. That's when they figured out you were being bullied.

They didn't exactly know what to do since they have no clue who is bullying you directly.

But if they do find out who is bullying you, expect Cartman to already be coming up with a plan to get revenge back at that bully while the others assist him with the plan.

The only ones who are allowed to make fun of you but not too harsh is them, nobody else (definitely Cartman with this one).

Stan and Kyle would be cleaning up your scars and bruises while Cartman distracts you by trying to make you laugh, and Kenny giving you a bunch of kisses.

Once you're already patched up, expect to have 4 figures hovering above you ready to give you cuddles and more kisses <3

They have become more protective over you because they don't want you getting hurt again.

They will always make sure you get to class safely.

It doesn't bother them that you're black, you will always have a place in their hearts 🥰💗💚💙🧡❤️

Request completed ✅✅🥺👉👈

#south park x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #eric cartman x reader #stan marsh x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #south park #southpark sp #sp x reader #southpark blog #x reader #southpark x y/n #black reader #poc reader #poc #bullied reader #bullying #main 4 x reader #southpark scenarios #southpark headcanons

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tastybluesprite · 2 years

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Beautiful (Marc Spector x Teen Reader)

Reader is bullied and teased at school for severe burn scars she has from a traumatic experience she experienced when she was younger. Marc does anything he can to be able to make you feel better and comfortable in your own skin. (I tried my best to make it so the reader can be read as male, female, or anything else. If I made any mistakes regarding this or anything else please let me know!)

Warnings: Bad words, small mention of suicide, allow self confidence

You were running. Faster and faster. You hope that if you run fast enough, no one will be able to see you. You had just been humiliated by a group of kids in front of your whole school. You had a burn scar all over your entire right side. You usually wore a mask on your face, or made sure that part of your face was covered with your own hair. You were holding back tears as you desperately tried to make your way back to the apartment.

You made to open the door, but you were so weak from running and sadness that you crumbled to the floor, curled up into a ball, and started to cry.

You must’ve made a lot of noise from this, because you hear a door open. You heard the persons footsteps draw nearer and you recoil away from the direction where the noise came from.

“It’s ok. You know I won’t hurt you.” You relaxed when you heard a voice you recognize, except you’ve never heard it sound so gentle before.

You feel him pulling you up slowly and he leads you into his own apartment.

Marc Spector sat you down on his couch. You tried to wipe your tears away as he leaves to the kitchen for a second. You hear an exchange between his voice and another similar one in British. You knew about his DID and about Steven. You were super close friends with the pair of them.

When Marc came back, he handed you a mug. It had a hot liquid in it. You sip it and taste something sweet.

“Steven insisted that this would help you feel better.” Marc said with a small smile.

“Now.” He added, “do you want to tell me why you were out in the hallway crying?”

You take a shuddering breath, “I-I almost made it t-to my apartment, but… I guess I didn’t.”

He seemed amused by your vague answer but didn’t laugh. “Ok… now do you want to tell me why you were really out in the hallway crying?”

You hesitate for a moment.

“B-Because I got made fun of at school.. t-these kids w-were laughing at m-my s-scars-“

You couldn’t continue anymore because just then you began to cry again. This time a bit harder then moments before.

“I’m ugly! I’m repulsive! I’m disgusting!” You shout all of these statements into your hands as if your life depended on it. Marc looked shocked. He wondered, how could you say that about yourself? Didn’t you realize how untrue all that was? Anger seemed to fill his face. For a moment you think his anger is it’s directed at you, but then he exhaled and muttered, “Those fucking assholes…”

You flinch at the sudden tone change. Your face was puffy and red and you couldn’t stop crying. He wrapped his arms around you and held you tight as you cried into his chest.

Soon you were able to calm down and stop crying. Once he saw you were feeling better, he held you out away from him and cupped your face. “Y/n… don’t you ever think for a second that those things those kids said to you meant anything.”

You feel fresh hot tears starting to run down your face and he wipes them away with his thumbs. “You are so, so beautiful. Anyone saying other wise is jealous.”

“But why should they be jealous? I’m ugly! What’s so beautiful about my appearance?!”

Marc gave a look that indicated him to be inspecting you. “Hmm let’s see… you have beautiful eyes,” he lightly pokes next to your eye, “you have beautiful hair,” he strokes at your hair, “and best and most importantly of all, you are a beautiful person. You are so caring, so kind, so sweet, and such a wonderful human being. You wouldn’t hurt anyone like those people did to you. That’s what truly makes someone beautiful. And that is why, you are more beautiful than any of them combined. They can wear the best clothing and wear the best make up, but no matter what they do, they will still be ugly for acting so horrible.”

He kissed the scarred portion of your forehead and puts it against his. “Don’t you ever think for a moment that you are not beautiful. Because from what I see, you’re one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met.”

#sprite🥤#fanfiction #fanfic writer #marc spector x reader #marc spector fluff #angst to comfort #marc spector angst #angst #comfort #bullied reader

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envy-of-the-apple · 3 months

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Sun Eats Moon

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word count: 9.1k

Part two: Earth Kills Moon

Synopsis: Your boss takes on Gojo Satoru as his newest client. Much to your relief, he doesn't seem to recognize you.

(Warnings: noncon, dubcon, rough sex, oral sex, bullying, harassment, one mention of choking, penetrative sex, afab!reader, coercion, forced relationships, implied baby trapping attempt, hint of pregnancy kink)

You wanted to quit the second you read the name.

You should have. It would have been so easy to hand in your two weeks, tell your boss that you just couldn't. Or maybe you could have convinced one of the other paralegals to take your place.

It's pathetic. Almost a decade had passed and you still felt yourself slink into the girl you once were, rolling under his thumb, utterly helpless. You should be better than that. You worked so hard to reach where you are now.

You were different now, you told yourself over and over again. You were older, smarter. Besides, it'd been a decade, would he even remember you?

It's Higuruma who notices your restless fingers. You shouldn't have underestimated him, despite how exhausted he looks, nothing goes past your boss. He asks about it when you two are seated in a beige room, waiting for the client.

"Is everything alright?"

You're still staring out the window. How high were you? 16 stories, maybe even higher. Resentment, you can feel it rise up your throat, build throughout your body. Of course, he has fancy cars, pretty buildings, and limitless money. Men like him will never know what it's like to have nothing. All men were born equal. What a fucking joke.

Higuruma shifts, and you jolt out of your thoughts. "Yes," you console, "apologies, I'm just tired."

The lawyer hums, and you're not sure if he believes you or not. Before he can say anything, the frosted doors open. The rest of the legal team comes in, sitting at the long table you and Higuruma inhabited.

He comes in last. He'd always had a liking for theatrics.

Not much had changed within a decade. He was taller, bigger. He'd switched out of his high school uniform, opting for something more business-friendly. He still made heads turn. Became the center of attention.

It's his smile that throws you. Sincere, real. Lingering on his face like extravagant jewelry. Hard not to notice.

You react better than you anticipated. You don't shake or tremble or cry when he passes you. You just squeeze your fists, bunching your skirt in your palm. It helps.

He sits down, right at the end, so everyone can see him. One foot elegantly crossed over the other. When he tilts his head, his soft white hair threatens to shift over brilliant blue eyes.

"Well, I'm sure you don't need me to explain why we're all here." A few chuckles resonate from the small group. "Let's just do our best and hope nothing gets too out of hand."

His eyes slide over to meet yours, and you steel yourself for his eyes to widen. For something wicked and cruel and nasty to sink into his face.

Nothing.

Gojo Satoru maintains that same smile. The blaring sun. Painfully innocent. His gaze lasts barely a second before moving to the next face, and the next, and the next.

"I look forward to working with all of you."

𖤓

If you could describe Gojo Satoru in one word, it would be: celestial.

He's like a shining star. Brighter than the sun. Everywhere he went, he was bound to attract attention. Much like how the Earth is drawn towards the sun, people are drawn towards Gojo Satoru. It's the natural order.

But, if an insignificant planet resists the Sun's gravitational force, it'll get crushed. You learned this the hard way.

Gojo had always been in your class for years. The third year was no different. Despite the commonality, you two never talked to each other. You had no reason to. Until the vending machine gave you two cartons, and you suddenly remembered from an overheard conversation that Gojo liked chocolate milk too.

"Want it?" You hold it out to him during lunch break. He was in the middle of a boisterous conversation with his friend. They did intimidate you, but you had no reason to be scared. It's not like they were bullies.

Gojo's sunglasses dip down. He eyes what you're holding in your hand, before his gaze drifts back up to you.

"The machine gave me extra," you supply, "do you want it?"

"Oh, sure," he says after a moment. Your hands brush. "Thanks."

You nod, and then you walk back to the cafeteria. It was meaningless. A favor between acquaintances. He was helping you more than you helped him. You didn't want to carry chocolate milk around in your backpack. You forgot about the interaction within a few hours.

𖤓

The meeting ends hours later. When you stumble home, it's barely evening but you can still feel the stress creeping through your legs and arms.

You go straight to your laptop. Fumbling through the keyboard, desperate, searching.

He's famous. Of course, he is. In his mid-twenties, but already a multi-millionaire. The head of an extremely elite family. Your eyes scan picture after picture after picture. Photos of him drinking with models in skimpy bikinis. Fancy cars. Huge houses. Private jets. Gojo Satoru: the man behind Gojo Co., Gojo Satoru and supermodel Menza hinted at relationship, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru.

You pull away when it starts to burn, when the rage and sorrow become too much. He has everything. Everything he could want. He made you go through hell for months, and yet he never got punished for it. The universe rewards him with lavishness you'd never be able to touch.

It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fucking fair.

Through your blinds, the sun happily shines.

𖤓

You don't notice it until it becomes painfully unbearing.

Gojo calls you by your name now (until that day you bet he didn't even know you existed). He's like a ghost, constantly appearing out of nowhere to sling an arm around your shoulder, eager to chase off any of your friends to talk to you about things that don't matter.

He constantly offers to walk you home (and then Gojo ignores your refusals and does it anyway). It stays like that for a few days, never bordering beyond friendliness. You think he's harmless. Maybe he just hasn't had someone genuinely do a nice favor for him. Besides, you're flattered by the attention. Even you can be swayed by the pull of Gojo Satoru. It feels nice to be wanted.

You reason it'll just be for another week. A week later, you two will be nothing but acquaintances, sometimes exchanging quick smiles during class.

It doesn't truly dawn on you as to what he's doing until he comes out and says it.

"What?" Because you must have misheard him.

"We should," he says, not even bothering to repeat himself, "I mean, we're practically dating already. Let's just make it official."

You stare at him. As always, he's utterly beautiful. The light of the setting sun makes his skin glow gold. Whenever he's walking you home is one of the rare times he removes those sunglasses. His eyes are like jewels, pretty things that you wish were yours.

You laugh. It's high and panicky because you still think he's joking. He doesn't laugh with you. You stop.

"Oh-oh, I'm sorry Gojo-I wasn't-I didn't think. I'm just not...interested in dating anyone right now. It's not you! I think-I think you're great, but it's just the wrong time, and school is getting so much busier and-" you keep rambling, coming up with excuse after excuse because you're convinced Gojo would cut you off with an awkward laugh, tell you it's fine.

He doesn't do either, letting your flounderings get more and more pathetic. His smile had dropped. You can't read his expression anymore.

Eventually, you grow quiet, standing with him in that silence. When that gets too much, you timidly tell him to have a goodnight and walk home. He doesn't follow, staying rooted to the sidewalk where you left him. You're not running away, you tell yourself over and over again. And yet, you can't help but feel relief as soon as you can't feel his eyes.

Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you.

𖤓

It was something minuscule.

Barely considered legal work. The case would most likely be finished in a couple of weeks. The defendant had nothing on Gojo Satoru, at least from what you and the other paralegals could see. You highly doubted it would even go to court. Higuruma always had a knack for bringing anyone to the table. Gojo would be let off from whatever he did without a hitch. No punishment. Just like always.

"Word of advice, don't think about what happens in the private sector," Higuruma says, over whiskey.

The firm was celebrating another victory at a fancy bar. You were still stewing over the face of that young woman's face when the judge ruled in your client's favor. She looked heartbroken. You can still remember the sleazy smile your client had given her.

"It's a job," he says, "do it. Boost your resume, and get out."

He takes another dainty sip of his glass. Tonight, the circles underneath his eyes seem even darker. "You're a young kid. Do something else with your life."

When he offers to buy you a round, you accept. You think about that night sometimes, and you wonder if Higuruma wished someone else would have given him that advice when he was younger.

Do the job, and get out. Easier said than done. Especially when the job involved Gojo Satoru.

Associating with him was dangerous, you knew that firsthand, especially when he was interested in something you had. You'd left, but that wouldn't save you. The space of decades would not help.

Burn Gojo once, he won't forgive you. Burn Gojo twice? You don't think there's anyone alive who did that.

Over the coming days, you expect something from him. It's a nagging feeling in your stomach. The delayed response to a gunshot. Dread. You expect him to snap. Push. Break.

He never does. Gojo remains pliant, the same to you as he remains to your boss. There's no additional touching, no disgusting nicknames, no scathing looks. Nothing.

You don't get the confirmation until a week later, when Gojo stops you near the elevator.

"Higuruma's...assistant, right? Sorry, never got your name," he says, and you steel yourself because the two of you are alone and here it comes but if you yell loudly enough maybe-

"He asked for some paperwork, and I finally found it for him." Gojo hands you a stack of sheets with a cheery smile. "You won't mind giving that to him, will ya? Thanks!"

Just as quickly as he arrives, he leaves, shoes clicking down the hall as he goes. You can only stare at his rescinding back, the palpable feeling of relief nearly making your knees buckle.

The best news you could have possibly received. Gojo Satoru had completely forgotten about you.

When you got home later that evening, the rain was heavy, and the sun was nowhere to be seen.

𖤓

You don't have proof it was him.

It's unjust to accuse people of things they didn't do. You lack any evidence. It could have easily started by itself. You'd always been meek and timid. People were bound to take advantage of that.

But the timing was just too perfect for it to not be caused by him.

In the weeks following the incident with Gojo, school went from tolerant to hell. It started small, at first. Tiny. Unoticable. Insignificant. Some people (Gojo's lackeys, you'd later realize), would nudge you as they passed you by the halls. They apologized, mid-laugh, and in the beginning, you truly thought they were sincere. Then, the nudges turned into pushes, then shoves. That's when you knew you had a target on your back.

At first, you found it kind of hard to believe. Bullying? It sounded so childish. Something reserved for petty middle schoolers. You were in your final year of high school. You were already an adult. You laughed it off, for a bit. Mostly because it was so ridiculous. Only when it starts becoming more severe, more apparent that you were his target, do you start taking things more seriously.

There was no proof, but everyone knew it was Gojo. And being on Gojo's bad side wasn't something people were willing to risk. One by one, your friends started to disappear, reducing their involvement by sending strained smiles during passing period. The more stubborn ones who were more adamant about staying by your side were chased away too. They'd skip school for a few days, before coming back and completely ignoring you.

Teachers and staff were no help either. Why would they? Gojo's family held them in the palm of their hand. The most your homeroom teacher would do was avert his eyes whenever something was thrown at you for the third time in class, and quietly remind students to settle down.

You fell on the ground with an embarrassing thump. A chorus of laughter, and a mocking 'sorry' is all you hear from the crowd. Other students step over your scattered papers, giving you looks of sympathy but never bothering to help. You'd call them cowards, but you know you'd do the same.

Instead, you focus on collecting your papers. You avoid the lump in your throat. The tears that threaten to break over your waterline. It's humiliating, being stuck on the floor like this. It's only Wednesday, but you already feel like breaking.

Hands, scarred, move past you, collecting the rest of the sheets. His face is carefully blank as Geto Suguru neatly tucks his share all in one piece before handing it to you. You give your thanks. He ignores it.

“Are you hurt?” Geto asks, his voice barely loud enough to hear.

You think you scrapped your knee during the fall, but other than your pride, you're fine. You shake your head. Geto sighs. It's not out of relief.

“That's good,” he says anyway.

You found it ironic that Gojo's best friend is the only one who bothers to help you these days. It makes sense, in a way. It's not like he'll send his goons to Geto, instead. In this solar system, Geto Suguru is the only person unaffected by Gojo's solar flares.

You work in relative silence, collecting the mess that fell out of your bag. Geto hands you the last of the supplies, idly watching as you tuck them away.

“Take my advice,” he says just before he leaves, “give in.”

He stands up. Geto Suguru has always been taller than you, but now the difference feels even worse. When he looks down at you, a flicker of pity lingers in his eyes. It's gone before it can mean anything.

“It'll only get worse from here if you don't.”

Worse, he had said. God, what could be worse? You were already at rock bottom. All you have left is your dignity. Something you intend on gritting your teeth to keep.

You quickly learned something about Geto Suguru: he knew his best friend.

Friday. The end of the worst week of your life has finally arrived. The week after is break, and then maybe Gojo will move onto some other hyperfixation, and finally leave you alone.

Classes were out. You were done, free to run home and cry the entire week away. And then, you noticed, your locker was open.

Smashed in, was a better term. Completely, irrevocably, destroyed. It looked like someone had taken a wooden bat to repeatedly smash in the metal until it cracked open like an egg.

You don't want to look, but you have to. The busted door is barely hanging on its hinges when you push it open.

It's worse than anything you could think of.

Your books, textbooks, journals, are all torn apart and written on. All the contents of your bag have been thrown around. Your assignments, your notes, your pens and pencils. But it's your laptop that makes your throat stop. Smashed, broken without any hope of being salvageable. Your everything was in there. Why why why would he do this to you?

This wasn't bullying.

This was abuse.

Fuck pride. Fuck dignity.

You were so tired.

Despite the hell his lackeys put you through. Gojo Satoru himself never bothered you. In fact, you hadn't seen him all week. He doesn't make himself impossible to find. You know where his group hangs out after school. You're barely holding yourself together when you hear his voice. His pretty laugh. You don't care about how you look, close to breaking, your voice high-pitched and shaky.

"Why?"

Your voice catches his attention. He falls into silence, just like the rest of the group. Gojo surveys you for a moment. There's a scoff, a hint of amusement before he waves off the rest of the group.

"Get lost."

They comply, dispersing in multiple directions. For the first time, in a long while, you and Gojo are left alone. You and Gojo are left, alone.

"Well?" he tilts his head, completely bored.

"What do I have to do?" You ask desperately, "What-what do I have to do to make this all stop? Please I'll-I'll do anything, just-just make it-"

It's all too much. You can't hold your sobs in, bursting into tears as you fumble through your words. He tuts in mock pity. You flinch when you feel his hand against your cheek, but he doesn't let you shy away.

"Anything?" He asks when your sobs simmer into hushed whimpers, "Really? Anything?"

You blink, looking up at him with rough teary eyes. He's grinning, wide and manic. Your heart drops when he lowers himself to whisper in your ear.

"Anything, right?"

You nod once. He sighs in pure delight. His breath tickles your cheek.

"Get on your knees."

You jerk back, but Gojo doesn't let you go far, a hand on your shoulder, keeping you rooted on the spot. At your look of pure panic, he only laughs a little.

"I-I-Gojo you-"

"And call me Satoru now. Since we're gonna get to know each other a lot better," he interrupts with a chiding grin, ignoring your wide eyes. "What? I thought you said anything, right?"

He's asking, but it's clear you don't get a choice anymore. His grip on your shoulder is tight, close to crushing skin and bone. You're trapped. No, you were trapped the moment you talked to Gojo Satoru.

To think this all started because of two cartons of chocolate milk.

You relent when his grip gets too painful, sinking down to your knees. The grass is cool, and you know it will leave damp spots on your skirt, letting everyone know what you did for him.

"Good girl," he coos, and you shudder at his hand petting your hair. Like you're some precious pet. To him, maybe you are. How could anyone think of treating a human like this? You should be grateful he does it for you, instead of demanding you to pull him out. Still, the jiggle of his belt makes you wince. You turn away, not being able to bring yourself to look. Only when the tip of his cock reaches your peripheral, do you look back. It's big. You should have expected it, considering his height. It's already leaking, a bead of precum that makes you shudder. He moves forward and you instinctively grip his thigh.

"Gojo I-"

"Nuh-uh. Satoru," he ununciates, "Satoru. You gotta' start listening to me baby, or else we're gonna have problems."

You look down at the grass. Green, soft.

"Satoru."

His eyes flash in satisfaction.

"Open up, pretty girl."

The last of your fight disappears, sinks into the soft grass. You swallow, once, before you take him. It's a slow, torturous process. He's too big, your jaw is already starting to ache. Satoru barely notices your discomfort, sighing in contentment when you start to gag on his cock, reaching down to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.

You make a muffled gurgle and he tilts his head down. His sunglasses fall forward, two pretty eyes stare at you.

"What? Don't act like this is your first time-" he stops himself, mid-thought.

"Wait...this can't be your first time, right?"

If you weren't humiliated enough. You can't even lie, averting your eyes to avoid any further shame.

"Poor baby," Satoru says, all too delighted, "lemme' walk you through it. Gotta' suck on it, just like a lollipop-that's it-use your tongue," he encourages, still gripping his cock in his hand, like he was feeding it to you.

You can feel your mouth open wider. Tears stream down your face, not just from your pride, but also from pain. Satoru lets you take him in like this for a few more moments, just enjoying your warm mouth.

"There we go," he breathes, "take-fuck-take all of me."

But Satoru isn't known for his patience. You've barely taken all of him in yet before he grabs your hair to fuck your throat properly. You choke, sputtering all over his cock. He barely pays you any mind, his head thrown back as he rams himself down your mouth without a care in the world.

"Y'know, our first time together could-could have been nicer," he says through gritted teeth, the heat was starting to get to him, "but you just had to go and mess it up, huh?"

If you were stronger. If you were braver. You would have rejected it. Screamed. Fought. At the very least, you would have denied his delusions. But you weren't strong. You weren't brave. You were weak. Stupid. This was all your fault. Had you just given in the moment he asked, this wouldn't be happening to you. Or maybe, he'd be a bit nicer about it.

He hisses, gripping the back of your head before something warm and disgusting fills your mouth. Above you, Satoru lets out a shameless groan, a mix of your name as well as a curse. He releases you then, finally letting you sink to the floor. You fall forward, resting on your hands and knees, panting, trying to regain your breath, some semblance of sanity. You can still taste him. It's salty, a sickly tang. You spit as much as you can on the grass. It doesn't help.

He kneels, getting down to your level. With the way he's silently watching you, you know he's waiting for the right answer this time.

Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you.

So, you drop your gaze down. You take in a deep long stilted breath.

"Yes, Satoru," you say, voice quiet, pliant, "I'll go out with you."

His demeanor drops in just a second. He smiles, painfully innocent, like you hadn't spent the last few moments choking on his cock. He cups your face with both hands and you wonder how he could look at you like that, gently, as though you weren't covered in tears and his cum.

(You still feel it drip down your mouth. Tonight, when he finally lets you go home you'll cry for hours in the shower, hoping the water will wash away all the shame you feel. It won't.)

"Finally!" He exclaims, laughing, light, happy, elated, "I'm so glad you finally came around. I was starting to think I was ugly or something."

You stay like that for a while. Underneath him. You let his hands run up and down your body, like he's feeling the space that makes up you. Soon, you'd realize Gojo Satoru liked to touch things that were beneath him. A thought muddles it's way through your numb brain. You bring yourself to look at him.

"Satoru?" you ask. He sighs in satisfaction, stroking your hair.

"My laptop...it's broken."

You didn't know what else to say. It sounded accusatory, even to your ears. Righteous. You wondered if he heard it too, if he'd do something about it.

Satoru only scoffs.

“that old thing?” You flinch. It was a gift from your aunt, you highly doubted he cared enough about the sentimental. He hugs you closer, almost like a snake, constricting you within its scales before it devours you.

(You think the worst part is that he didn't even deny it.)

“I'll just get you a new one, baby.”

He walks you home later that evening. When he demands a kiss, you comply, numbly pressing your aching lips to his.

The sunset is pretty today.

𖤓

It's not a particularly hard case, but Gojo has a knack for keeping those who work for him busy. Higuruma had asked you to stay behind, once again. The two of you were stuck alone in the office building, a room that Gojo had graciously supplied.

You were milling through a stack of papers when someone new walked in. You didn't recognize her. She was tall, pretty, sparkling jewelry littered her neck and wrists. Your eyes drifted up and down her outfit, something that definitely wasn't business-appropriate. A part of you wants to ask where she got that lipgloss from.

"Oh," she tilts her head, surveying the two of you with pretty eyes, "is Sato not here?"

You inwardly cringe at the nickname, but choose not to show it. Higuruma is the one who saves you, in the end. He speaks on both of your behalf.

"Mr. Gojo isn't here at the moment," he says, "feel free to wait."

She does as she's told, plopping down on a seat right next to her. Higuruma goes back to ignoring her, dutiful in everything like he always is. You, on the other hand, don't like the way some of the other associates eye her legs. When you wordlessly hand her your jacket, she gratefully accepts.

"Thanks. I love your bag, by the way," she cheerily says and a part of you feels bad for her.

Minutes pass. She crosses her legs and then uncrosses them. When she crosses them again, you have to look up from your paperwork and ask if she's feeling alright.

"Just nervous," she admits, "I-I haven't seen Sato since our...last meeting."

Everyone in the vicinity knows this wasn't a casual business meeting, you don't get why she's avoiding the elephant like that. Probably to save face. It's clear from her behavior that she wasn't expecting so many visitors, so perhaps this situation is new for her. You found it strange that a booty call would be called up to an office building, especially when people were clearly watching, but you doubted Mr. Gojo cared about that. He was always shameless in that regard, uncaring about anyone's reputation, even his own. That's why he's in this legal mess in the first place. Besides, you were part of Gojo's Satoru's legal team. Part of your job is to be discreet about his extracurricular affairs.

Gojo Satoru hadn't changed at all since high school. Why would he? His personality has gotten him this far, after all. The Sun would never change, it's a constant sphere of fire. You wouldn't want him to change. You were banking on his stagnant nature to slip by. You couldn't imagine if he did change, improve himself, and realize how horrible he'd been to you. How would you be able to keep yourself together if he pulled you aside one day and tried to apologize? You'd break. Things are better the way they are now. Let Gojo Satoru indulge himself in all this lavishness, forgetting about the people he's tortured. It's better this way.

You glance over at the girl. She's young, maybe a couple of years younger than you. You can see the flush on her cheeks. The clear swooning. A part of you wonders what she'd think about that man if you ever told her what he did to you. What a monster he is-

"There you are!" Mr. Gojo strides in, just as silent as always, making himself known when he wants to.

The girl jumps up, her eyes lighting up in pure excitement as she practically drags herself into Mr. Gojo's arms. He places an arm on the small of her back, scarily close to touching somewhere inappropriate as she chatters away. They disappear off to wherever rich men like him go.

It's so quick. You must have imagined it because, for a second, you were sure he'd glanced back at you.

𖤓

By now, everyone knows you're Satoru's. That means, like him, you're untouchable.

You're not celestial. If Satoru was a star, then you were a stray meteor he'd found hurtling through space, and he couldn't resist forcing it to revolve around him. In exchange for suffering through his solar flares and radiation, he protects you from bigger planets that are all too eager to smash into you. The one relief is that no one seems to bother you anymore. You haven't been shoved around, pushed, or prodded. Sometimes, you receive glares from Satoru's old ex's, but it's more tolerable than burnt homework.

Satoru has officially chased away all your friends, but he's more than happy to keep you company. You sit next to him in lunch now, quietly listening as he prattles on to the rest of his friends (you recognize some of them, the ones who messed with you, they never seem to hold your gaze for long). You used to study on campus alone, right after school let out. Now, you still do it, but with Satoru watching. It's hard to concentrate with his wandering fingers and wet lips.

He takes all of your firsts. You don't give them to him, much less, he demanded it of you. The first time he fully takes you is far less romantic than you'd ever hoped. It was on his bed after he'd practically dragged you over to his house that night. You went home the next day covered in marks that took nearly a week to heal. A little while after that, Geto came to talk to you again. For the second time ever.

"Here." He offers you a packet. Pills. You're confused for a moment until you realize Satoru didn't wear a condom.

"Thank-"

"Don't," he cuts you off, "Don't thank me."

He says it with so much hate that you think it's directed at you. It isn't until years later that you realize the disgust was towards himself.

There are theories that the Moon once had color.

It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The sun didn't help. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection.

When the moon was out, you often stared at it, reveling in its beauty. Now, trapped in between Satoru's arms, you find its skeleton a bit too haunting to look at.

Three more weeks. Just three more weeks.

Graduation is coming up soon. You already had your college picked out, far far away from this backward town. From his conversations, Satoru was planning on going to some high-end college in Tokyo. With the way he kept looking back at you, you had a feeling he was planning on dragging you there too.

You were intelligent enough to keep your mouth shut about your plans. Satoru never asked, so you guessed he assumed you would let him bully you into whatever he wanted. He was right, so far. It's not like you'd ever argued with him.

Your parents were the only people who knew about your plan. They were excited, albeit for the wrong reasons.

"I'm so glad to see you're this interested in higher education," your mother beamed, "why the sudden change?"

You look at your mother's face. People have told you that you share the same smile. You wonder if she'd keep smiling if you ever told her about what Satoru's been doing to you, the bullying, the harassment.

You can't. You won't, because you can't bear to see her give you the same pitiful look your classmates give-the one Geto gives. You don't want her to see you as something broken.

"I'm just starting to think I might go into law," you finally say, "definitely need college for that."

On Thursdays, you have to sit inside the gym during Satoru's basketball practice. You wait on the bleachers, reviewing notes, and listening to the squeaking of sneakers. Satoru's good at the sport. You know last year they won a few tournaments. Whenever he scores a point, he gives a cheer, turning back to see if you saw it too. In those moments, you remember he's just a kid. He's your age. You can feel the envy. There, but too insignificant to do anything. He pleasantly lives his childhood, even after he stole yours.

Practice ends, always a little later than it's officially supposed to. Coach gives the final whistle and then Satoru is jogging back to you. Your things are already neatly packed into your bag. His breath is barely ragged, you can smell the hint of sweat as he kisses you on the lips. You can feel eyes on you, same as always. It's getting easier to ignore the gawking. After all, you're Satoru's now.

"Miss me?" he asks when he pulls away. He grabs your stuff before you can, hauling your backpack away. To others, it may look like he's being a sweet boyfriend. To you, it's another leash, tugging you to where he wants to go. You're not sure how Satoru sees the action.

You clamber out of the bleachers, following him without a word. Usually, Satoru would walk you home. You'd share a kiss with him on the front porch. And for the rest of the day, he'd finally leave you alone.

He grabs your hand, shooting you a wink when you lightly jostle into his body. Instead of heading out the door, Satoru turns his gaze towards the empty locker rooms. The light's automated. It flickers an unsettling white, casting a sick glow along the tiles. You are barely through the door before Satoru's pinning you against the lockers, kissing you as aggressively as he can.

Your hands immediately find their way to his shoulders, squeezing. It's not enough to hurt him, but it grabs his attention anyway. He lets up a little, relaxing into your touch.

"Sorry, baby," he says not sounding apologetic at all, "just be good f'me, okay? Need you."

He's pent up, you realize and you look at the door. School's out. The campus is nearly empty. But people are still around. And the door he just shoved you through doesn't have a lock-

Oh, wait. Would it even matter if someone came in and saw you? Everyone knew you were Satoru's.

Three more weeks. Just three more weeks.

He's trailing down, dropping to his knees. He flips up your skirt, pushing aside your panties, and attaches his hot mouth to your pussy. He's ravenous, today. Sucking on your clit like he can't bear to do anything else. You gasp, immediately assaulted by the shocks of pleasure running up and down your back.

You press against the wall, arching your back, giving him even more to suck on. He hums in approval, his voice getting lost in your wet folds. You're practically dripping now, and Satoru, with all his debauchery, gladly licks it all up as you writhe and whimper above him. Your thighs grow tighter around him, threatening to crush his skull if both his hands weren't carved into the fat of your thighs, squeezing.

Your initial panic is washed away, crumbled by his insistent tongue and fingers. You whimper out his name again as his tongue circles your clit and two fingers continue to move in and out of your sopping pussy. You're crying now, tears of pleasure and brokenness floating down your cheeks. Despite how blurry your vision is, you can see Satoru looking up at you.

"Getting close?" he's breathless, but there's still a hint of playfulness in his voice, "gonna sing, pretty girl?"

He gives a particularly hard suck on your clit and you're gone. You seize, throwing your head back as your legs shake from the force of your orgasm. It's a scream, so loud and shameless. Satoru gives a groaned pant, lapping up your aftertaste, making you jolt from the overstimulation before he finally gets to his feet. You watch as he haphazardly wipes the remnants of you with his sleeve before he's kissing you again.

"Always so sweet f'me," he purrs, biting at your lips before he fumbles with his belt. His cock is already red and strained. He pants, head shifting to fall at the crook of your neck as he lines himself up and sinks into you with one full thrust.

You whine a mix of a sob and a hissed moan. He hushes you with a stilted breath, barely keeping himself together as he pumps himself into you. Both of you are sweating now. You can feel the beads draw down your neck. He licks at your clavicle, biting when he starts to get more aggressive. When it's too less, he hikes your thigh over his waist, keeping it there so he can go even deeper.

"Fuck, I'm crazy for you," he slurs against your skin. You can barely pay attention to his words, barely keeping your own voice in check, "’would do anything for you, pretty girl."

He raises his head, looking you in the eye. His sunglasses have been tossed on the floor. You can his beautiful eyes, two cosmic galaxies of blue. You could stare at them for hours, discovering each variant of cerulean, naming each one. You bet each day you look, you'll find another shade. They're so pretty.

You wonder how pretty those eyes would look floating in a jar.

"'Toru-!" you gasp when Satoru rocks himself into again, even faster. The name you accidentally gave him when you're too fucked out to comprehend language makes him laugh in pure delight, his smile uncontrolled, delirious.

"Right here, baby," he moans into your sweaty skin, hand reaching down to rub your clit, "your ‘Toru's right here. Just where you need him."

His fingers move under your shirt, squeezing at your tits, exploring, roughly grabbing at your chest. The sensation makes you wince. Your walls draw even tighter, choking his cock.

"Too-too much, 'Toru, p-please." He growls at your begging, burying his face in your neck again. He nips at your damp skin, you flinch.

"I gotcha' baby," he breathes, "just-just lemme-" He presses on your clit. It's all you need.

You come with a sob, your pussy squeezing, milking Satoru for all he's worth. He's not too far behind, hips stuttering before he whines in your ear. Something warm fills your cunt.

You flounder, sagging against the wall. Satoru's the only thing that keeps you upright as you fight to catch your breath. He isn't in any better shape, panting just as hard as you are. He lifts his head, pressing his damp forehead onto yours. There's a dreamy smile on his lips. A look of absolute adoration.

"I love you."

You look at him. There's nowhere else to look.

"I love you," he repeats, leaning forward to kiss the corner of your lips. His lips trail down, caressing your cheek, your jaw, your neck. It would almost feel nice, but you can only stare straight ahead. You can see the dull green lockers in the distance. You can smell the mold in the damp locker room. You can feel Satoru's cum slowly seep out of you, trailing down your thigh.

Fuck three weeks.

You needed to get out, now.

𖤓

The only reason you went is because you were told Gojo Satoru wouldn't be there.

His assistant had off-handily mentioned that he had a meeting on the other side of town. Very last minute. The building as a whole would be empty, just a skeleton crew and a couple of security guards to keep the place running. It made sense, it was 8 pm- long past any proper business hours.

Higuruma could have easily gone, but it's clear the sleepless nights have been getting to him, or the stress. His paralegal is more than qualified to act like a middleman between him and Mr.Gojo's associates. It's an easy mission. Just grab a few things, and get out.

Gojo Satoru wasn't supposed to be there.

And yet, there he was, leaning against the door, blocking you into the room.

His assistant had always been a mousey thing. Tonight, however, he'd been extra ansty, looking around the room. Babbling out excuses as to what was taking him so long. Now, when he can barely even look at you, you realize he was just a distraction.

"You're off the clock, Fimo," Gojo finally breaks the silence, "take tomorrow off too, okay?"

His assistant quickly nods, keeping his head down to flit out the door. You can't even bring yourself to be mad at him. Gojo always had a habit of singling out the weakest, crushing them within his fist, unless they bent or broke.

The door shuts with a click.

"You know, I didn't even recognize you at first," he starts. He takes a small step forward.

You take one back. He puts his hands up.

"Okay, don't be like that," he sighs, exasperated, "It's been what, 10 years? How you've been?"

He steps around you, barely brushing against your shoulder to get to his desk. He reaches down, grabbing a wine bottle and two glasses from a cabinet, setting both down on mahogany wood.

"Wanna drink? Technically, it's against company policy to serve alcohol in the building but I won't tell if you don't." He grins. It looks bloody.

He looks so casual, the man who's haunted your nightmares, leaning against a desk in a building he owns. Your heart's beating in your chest. It's so loud. You wonder if he can hear it too.

When you don't respond, he rolls his eyes.

"Figures." He pops the cork. "You were always such a stickler for the rules."

"What do you want?" You ask, your tone weaker than you'd liked.

"What? Don't you wanna catch up? I missed you." You flinch at his words, looking away. "A paralegal, huh? Gotta' say, wasn't what I expected, but it fits you." It sounds condescending, but you don't poke the bear, opting to stay silent.

He seems to take an issue with that, regardless.

"Are you mad? If anything, I should be the one upset at how you just ran off like that. After all that time we spent together too. I didn't even get a breakup text."

His last words, send a chill up your spine. A warning. Staying here any longer would be a mistake.

You go to move.

Satoru's faster.

Your head slams against the wall. Hard. Enough to hurt. You struggle anyway, clawing at the hand that's gripping your throat, the body pinning you down. Above you (he's gotten so much taller now), Gojo tuts in disappointment.

"I tried to be nice and look where that got me. You tried to run again," he muses, like he's disappointed, "I shouldn't be surprised. You've always needed something with a bit more teeth." At his threat, his hand on your throat tightens. You freeze.

It's barely choking you, but it's enough of a warning. His other hand is playing with the end of your blouse, feeling the fabric. You can feel the tears start. They're a familiar taste. Only this time, they're twinged with bitterness.

"Don't do this," you whisper, "Don't-don't-"

"Yeah, I don't think you're in any position to make demands right now." He's grinning, but when you look into his eyes, you can see the anger. A fire that has burned for a decade. At that moment, you realized Gojo Satoru had changed. Now, he was better at hiding how he truly felt.

You should have quit the moment Higurama got him as a client.

Gojo's dragging you over to the desk, haphazardly pushing away the stuff already on it. The computer, the bottle, the wine glasses all fall to the floor with a deafening crash as he shoves you down, splaying you across the table. He follows you down, leaning to meet your lips in a frenzied kiss. It's different than all the other times he'd kissed you. He'd lost all the inexperience, more keen on making you stay put and bleed. When you try to turn your face, pushing at his chest, he only growls. A large hand grabs your chin, keeping you in place for him.

When he pulls away, there's a hint of blood on his plush lips. It's not his. He licks it up regardless.

You're full-on sobbing now; barely in sucking air as your body shudders and jolts. You don't expect comfort, least of all from him, but he's cooing, wiping away your tears.

"Missed this," he purrs, ignoring the way you weakly push at him, "'guess that was my mistake. I was expecting you to be different. Nah, you'll be the same crybaby you always were. That's how you managed to slip under my radar."

He buries his face into your hair, sighing in contentment as you shiver underneath him. His lips graze the crown of your head, a complete juxtaposition to his words.

"Scream all you want. No one's here, baby." No one's gonna save you from me.

Still, you try anyway. Your hands grip his broad shoulders, digging in your nails until he hisses.

"Fuck maybe you have changed." He rasps, fiddling with his belt. "You're bitchier now."

"Gojo-Gojo what are you-" He bites on your bare clavicle. You squeal, stilling underneath him again.

"Satoru," he insists. You slump over the desk as he takes both your hands, wrapping his leather belt around your delicate wrists. You wince when he twists it into a knot. The leather bites into your skin. The fight dissolves just as rapidly as it arrived. He hadn't even lifted a finger against you. You were just that pathetic.

"Satoru," you breathe, waving your flag of defeat. He hums, licking at the bitemark. You can feel the heat bloom on your skin. They'll be a mark tomorrow, and much like Satoru, it would go away so easily.

"There's my good girl," he groans, cold hands fiddling with the buttons on your blouse, opening it up until your bra pops out, "I know I should be more mad, but I've always had a soft spot for you. Guess things will never change, hm?"

His mouth dips down, tracing your collarbone to your breasts. He wiggles down your bra, letting your tits spill out and into his hands. He squeezes one while taking another in his mouth, swirling the bud with his tongue before devouring. His moan is barely muffled by your tits. Yours is clear, high-pitched and breathy. Satoru always had no problem being shameless. And he often dragged it out of you too.

He's mouthing something against your skin, but you're too distracted by his other hand, slinking down your waist, pushing up your pencil skirt, letting it bunch around your hips. In the moment, you chastised yourself for wearing something so easy to get rid of, but it wasn't like you were expecting for him to be here, to bring you down just like he did when you were in high school. It's not like you were expecting to fall.

Satoru feels around your pantyhose, running up and down your thigh, searching. He squeezes the sheer fabric, before he rips a hole into it. You gasp, jerking at the action.

"That's-"

"I'll buy you new ones," he says, voice muffled by your tits. The conversation feels familiar.

He bypasses your panties immediately, finding your pussy with practiced ease. You're already soaking. At this, he raises to look at you. You can't keep eye contact, timidly looking away. He laughs. It sounds sickenly affectionate.

"You're so cute." He purrs just as he leaves another mark on your chest. Your tits bounce under his attention as he pushes two fingers into your tight sopping hole. Your back curls, arching off the desk as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you. Disgust grows within you, not at him, but at yourself, for letting yourself get this low. This desperate.

It doesn't stay for long. He's cruel like that, moving in a way that makes you forget your humanity. His fingers get even faster, digging into your cunt and curling somewhere deep inside, hitting a spot that makes you gasp. You're reduced to whimpering moans by the time he finally stops, fingers exiting your pussy with a wet noise. He brings them to his mouth, sucking on his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste.

"Fuckin' sweet," he moans, taking his fingers out with a sickening pop before wiping the drool on your heaving tits.

Your eyes float to the window. The moon is out, you blearily realize. It's a blood moon, a rusty red. Once every 3 months, it'll lose its heavenly glow. The innocent milky white will get shadowed by the Earth's rusty atmosphere. It'll regain its color eventually. The Sun doesn't like to be overshadowed.

Something hard and blunt slides between your legs. You're barely given a second to comprehend it before Satoru grabs you by the hips, filling you up with one thrust. You yelp, a semblance of his name on your lips, but it's shrouded by the moan you give out.

He stays like that for a bit. You should be grateful he is letting you adjust to him. His cock is sickenly familiar to your walls. Satoru's hair brushes your cheek as he leans up to whisper in your ear.

"How many?" he sounds like he's gritting his teeth, barely in control, "how many guys have you let fuck you since you ran?"

You blink, wondering if he's seriously asking, but you can hear the seriousness in his tone. Even now, he's concerned with the wrong things. He's always been petty like that.

"You," you say because there's no point in lying, "it's only ever been you."

You say it like it's a curse, because to you, Satoru had cursed you. He'd stolen something you'd never be able to enjoy, devouring it, keeping it for himself. A part of you will always hate yourself for letting him do that, just like a part of you will always be his.

Satoru deflates, as if he's relieved, easing his face into the crook of your neck, placing an almost loving kiss on your shoulder. He starts slow, slowly drawing his cock out, just until his tip is barely still in, before he pushes himself back into your hole. His pace is slow, controlled. It's different than when he was younger, more eager to get himself off more than anything. Now, it's like he's enjoying the intimacy, the feeling of your walls squeezing him. The wet noises. He's barely affected. Unlike you, writhing underneath him, close to falling apart. It's his length that gets you, forcing your pussy to stretch just to fit him. His cock hits everywhere, all at once, an endless torture of pleasure.

It takes you a while to get your brain back together, to collect the mush, and realize that Gojo isn't wearing a condom.

"S-Sato-" You try, just when he spreads your thighs apart, pushing them close to your chest so he can get deeper and kiss you at the same time. His hand slips down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles and you feel yourself getting even closer. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught.

"Try again," Satoru huffs, "What's my name? I know you know it, pretty girl."

"'Toru," you beg because it's all you have left. Your breathless gasps make you sound even more unconvincing but you still manage to stutter out, "I'm-I'm not on anything, so-so please-"

"That's okay," he mutters, though it's clear he's half-listening, "I'll take care of you and the baby."

"No-I-I-can't-"

He drops his leisure pace in exchange of shorter, faster thrusts. His cock barely leaves your pussy, grinding in your hole as his breathing starts to get a little less controlled.

"I'll make sure it takes this time too."

Your eyes open, and you forget your panic to stare at him. You think back to the pills 18-year-old Geto had handed you. Always discreet. You'd...you'd always thought they were Satoru's idea.

He hits something inside you, right then. You implode, crashing and burning as you gush around his dick. He's not kind enough to ease you through it, ramming his cock even harder inside your battered pussy until he's hunching over you with a shudder. You can feel his cum settle deep inside your womb.

You stay like that for a few moments, not saying anything. It feels like hours before Satoru is moving again, drawing his softened cock out of your overstimulated pussy. You can feel the cum drip out of you too, spilling onto the desk, but you don't think Satoru's too mad about that. He flicks your clit a few times, watching your hips jerk and you give an exhausted whine.

He kisses your breasts. He kisses up your jaw, before finding your lips. Dazed, you find yourself kissing back in reluctant acceptance, your body aching for any semblance of gentleness.

"I love you."

You look into his eyes, and you realize he's right. Gojo Satoru loves you, and this is how a man like him loves. He meant it, all those years ago, just like how he does now.

Satoru loves like the Sun. Too bright. With enough heat to burn your soul away. It's why you ran.

"I love you," he repeats like the phrase doesn't kill you each time he says it, "so you're never leaving me."

"Not ever again."

There are theories that the Moon once had color.

It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The Sun had eaten it. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection.

If Satoru was the Sun, then perhaps, you were the Moon. Stripped of your color. Unable to create light of your own. Reflecting only what you're given.

How foolish of you to think you could ever escape his radiation.

#yandere jjk #yandere #yandere gojo satoru #dark content #dark jjk #dark gojo satoru #x reader #gojo satoru #reader insert #afab reader #bullying #harassment #forced relationship #tw: dubcon #tw:noncon

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werecreature-addicted · 3 months

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big jock werewolf who bullies you. he teases you for being so wet while they fuck you with his fat fingers and pulls your shirt up to snap pictures of your chest. he pushes you up against lockers and sticks his tongue down your throat too.

Big jock werewolf who eats you out in the locker room, he tells you you better cum quick because he isn't stopping until you do, even if the other team members walk in. he hopes they do, so he can tease you for being such a slut and getting off while other people watch.

Big jock werewolf who is not your boyfriend and will laugh if anyone brings it up, but it anyone so much as looks at you he'll beat them to a bloody pulp.

Big jock werewolf who asks for you to send him notes one day, then as soon as he has your number all he does is send you videos of him jerking off, moaning the whole time about how badly he wants to knot you until he cums and the video ends. He texts you asking if you liked it, if the video made you horny, and where's his video, he's been so nice the least you could do is send him a video of you playing with yourself.

#you cannot stop me from thinking about jock werewolves #werewolf smut #werewolf #werewolf x reader #monster boyfriend #monster #teratophillia #werewolves #monster fucker #werewolf boyfriend #monster imagine #jock bully werewolf

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hotyanderedaddies · 5 months

Text

The School Bully Loves You, Pt. 1:

Yandere Bully Forces Nerdy You to be His

[I hope you all enjoy my first semi-series on here!]

[Yandere! Bully x GN Nerd! Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

Everyone at your high school knew that it was best to avoid Blake.

The upperclassman was a bully, plain and simple. He had a habit of beating people down if they dared get in his way, or even if they just looked at him in a manner he didn't appreciate.

You were on the complete opposite of the spectrum: a grade-A nerd. You were a goody two-shoes to boot, always volunteering after school and helping your fellow classmates study whenever they struggled with a subject. The captain of the Mathletes team and one of the star columnists in the school newspaper, you were the epitome of nerd.

However, even with your good nature, you avoided Blake as best as you could, fearful that you'd face his wrath and have him beat your face into a pulp. You'd heard the stories, and you'd seen enough teen movies to know that bullies and nerds do not mix, at all.

Unfortunately, one Friday morning, you walked out of the front door to your house to head towards the bus stop-- but you immediately froze when Blake was in your driveway, leaning casually against his car.

"Bl-Blake?" you coughed out in surprise. "What are you doing--"

Blake just grunted and opened up the passenger side door, gesturing at it. When you didn't make a move, his frown deepened on his face.

"Get in!" he barked, the forcefulness of his deep voice making you jump.

Afraid of making the bully even angrier, you scurried over towards the car and practically leapt inside. "Um, wh-where are we going?" you trembled as soon as Blake got in and started to drive off down the street.

Blake cocked his eyebrow at you in confusion. "School," he scoffed, as if it should've been obvious.

You wanted to ask why the school bully was driving you to school, but you were too concerned with how he placed his arm over your small shoulders in the tight confines of the car.

You were stunned silent at first, but then something popped into your head that you couldn't ignore.

"How did you know where I live?" you asked Blake, your voice small and barely audible over the loud music playing over the speakers.

"Huh?" Blake asked, turning the volume down a bit before shaking his head. "Don't worry about it."

"B-but..."

Blake turned the volume back up, effectively silencing you. You kept your lips pursed for the rest of the drive to school, anxiety seeping out of your every pore. When Blake finally parked in the parking lot, you thought about bolting as fast as you could, but your legs were like jelly.

You nearly crawled out of the car and cautiously began to walk towards the entrance when a tight visegrip swallowed your hand.

Blake interlocked his fingers with yours, giving you a sneer when you attempted to pull away. He was much stronger than you, and when you kept trying, he leaned down closer to your ear.

Thanks to his proximity, a lot of the other students began to gawk at the two of you, their eyes widening and many of them murmuring to another as they saw the school bully holding hands with the nerdiest person in class.

"You're smart," Blake smirked as he whispered in your ear, "so I need you to comprehend this: You're mine."

A cold shiver traveled down your spine, and you tried to pull away once more; but Blake was much stronger than you, and he gave you a rough tug, making you topple into him.

"That's one," Blake sneered, even holding up one of his fingers to count. "When I get to three, I'll have to punish you. So make sure you behave and be my sweet little angel, got it?"

Swallowing hard, you nodded, fearful of what was in store for you.

To be continued...

#yandere boyfriend #yandere boy #yandere daddy #yandere x reader #yandere x you #obsessive love #possessive boyfriend #yandere bully #yandere bad boy #bad boy #bad boy x nerd #nerd you #Blake #my oc #Blake the Bully

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saetoru · 8 months

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Do you think there could be a chance where reader and bully! gojo meet again years later and try again? Maybe 🥹

part one here — contents. fem! reader, exes to lovers, neighbors to lovers, slight nsfw so minors do not interact, slight angst but it’s a hopeful (pretty much happy) ending, idk what else lmk what i missed

imagine you guys are neighbors—you accidentally meet when you’re both walking up to your apartment doors one night after work. he pauses, and you can feel eyes staring into you from the side so you look over and yeah. wow. there’s your worst heartbreak of your youth standing right there in all his glory, staring at you like you’re a figment of his imagination come true. like he never expected to see you again (you suppose he probably didn’t).

“hey,” he says softly. satoru has never been one to greet someone first, never been the one to reach out and bridge the gap himself. he always waits to be approached. that much has surprisingly changed since the last time you saw him.

“oh…” you trail off, “hi. it’s you.”

you don’t seem half as happy to see him as he does you—but that much is to be expected, of course. satoru didn’t have the luxury of moving on, you can tell because you still can read him just as easy after all these years. like he hasn’t changed the small quirks about him, like he’s still tried desperately to hold onto his past because that’s where you were. he still looks desperately in love like the night you left him.

it’s pathetic, you wanna say. to still be in love for so long. when it’s so clearly over and there’s no coming back. a small part of you is filled with this sick, evil satisfaction that he’s still thinking about you when you don’t spare him a single thought.

but you suppose you’re not at over him as you thought when there’s this much excitement bubbling into you at his suffering. maybe, if you were actually completely over him, you’d be indifferent to him. you wouldn’t forget, but you’d forgive. you’d hope he learned his lesson and spared another innocent, poor girl from what you suffered for simply loving him. for simply wanting him to feel cherished and special and worth someone’s time.

you hope he’s better now—not for yourself, but for someone else. he doesn’t deserve a second of your time.

“you live here?” he asks, mildly shocked.

you’re almost offended. does he mean he thinks you can’t afford to live in the same apartment building as him? or is he just that shocked to see you? nothing about satoru seems genuine—you can’t help but assume the worst in him.

“yes,” you say curtly, “i moved here for work.” (why did you add that? why are you giving an opening to make conversation?)

“oh, really? me too,” he nods. (why is he making conversation? why couldn’t he have just ignored that opening and spared you the trouble?)

“oh,” is all you say. it’s silent for a bit, and then, “well, i better—”

almost like he knows what you’re about to say, he cuts you off with a quick, “i teach now.” you blink, staring at him in confusion. he rubs his neck as he adds, “i uh…i teach at that high school down the block. so uh…that’s why i moved here.”

“that’s…that’s nice,” you nod awkwardly. why is he telling you all this?

“yeah, my students are really cool,” he adds with a grin—it’s…a bit cute, actually. because he means it. his smile is too fond for it to not be true.

this isn’t the satoru you know—at least, not the one you think is the real satoru. you’re not so sure which side of him is actually him.

“i’m glad you enjoy what you do,” you offer. there’s not much else to say. “i’ll be heading in now.”

“right,” he coughs, “s-see you around.”

and then you really do see him around.

sometimes, it’s when you both leave in the mornings—he lets you enter the elevator first and presses the button for you when he gets in. he always lets you exit first too, like he cares to be chivalrous even if you’re not together anymore. sometimes it’s when you’re coming home—he’s holding a bag of take out as he walks up to his own door. you suppose he’s never been one to cook, and that probably hasn’t changed. sometimes, you’ll see him at the grocery store too—his cart is usually just filled with snacks and sweets. it’s not a very adult like shopping cart, so something’s evidently never change.

and every time he sees you, he always tries to strike up a conversation. no matter how short of a window your time is. even if it’s the forty five second elevator ride from floor one to floor three, he’s determined to say something.

today my students got me a gift—it’s a pair of sunglasses, because he still apparently loves those.

i got to take my students on a field trip today. i’ve been planning it for weeks—they have to write a paper on it, though. they’re not too happy about that even if they enjoyed themselves.

today was my student yuji’s birthday. i let the others out early to celebrate with him—they’re apparently all a good bunch of kids. friendly and tight knit in a way satoru’s never experienced. he thinks kids should hold onto that. good friends are hard to come by, after all.

and you’re always guarded. always so cautious and careful when you talk to him. sometimes you try to be polite, other times it’s abundantly apparent you don’t want to converse. he doesn’t pay it any mind, though. just rambles away and away and away and talks enough for the both of you because he’s just happy you’ll listen. even if begrudgingly.

and then one night, it happens—it’s late and you had to stay extra in the office. you’re grumpy and tired and the only good thing about this is that it’s late enough that you probably won’t run into satoru today.

except he’s waiting right there, head against your door as he fidgets with the door knob and grumbles incoherently under his breath.

“stupid damn door,” he slurs, “jus’ fuckin’ open.”

“ahem,” you clear your throat—he stiffens. “any particular reason you’re trying to break in?”

he turns to face you—stumbles a little as his glossed eyes look at you in confusion. he’s drunk—you can smell the liquor on him.

“whad’ya mean? ‘s my door,” he holds an arm out to gesture at your door.

“no,” you sigh, pointing to the door next to yours, “that one is.”

“oh!” he perks up, “‘s why it wasn’t working?”

“most likely,” you nod awkwardly, “that’s usually how that works.”

you watch as he unceremoniously stumbles over his steps to his door—how he tries but fails to get his keys through the key hole before you sigh and take pity on him. you don’t have it in you to leave a drunk person out in the cold, no matter how much (bad) history you might have.

“here,” you sigh, grabbing his keys from his hand and opening the door for him. you try to ignore that brief moment of warmth where your hands brushed against each other.

“do y’know what today is?” he mumbles, breath fanning over your shoulder as you open his door.

“i….tuesday?” you ask, in confusion. he looks crestfallen when you stare his face.

“oh, n-never—” he stumbles a bit. you catch him before you realize. “never mind.”

somehow, you barely manage to help him to his couch before he’s passing out, too drunk to really register anything else. satoru never drinks much—it was the funniest part about him. you used to tease him for it all the time, for being a frat boy who can hardly handle some alcohol.

i like being in control, he’d say petulantly, i don’t need to be drunk to have a good time. i am the good time.

you take a quick glance around his place before you can catch yourself. it’s not very different from your place—the living room is the same size and the structure is more or less the same. his tv is a bit more expensive, and his furniture is more simple. that’s about it.

you glance down at him one last time before walking out and shutting the door behind you. you hesitate for a moment before turning on the screen of your phone to check the date—it takes you a moment, but then it hits you.

it’s the day you broke up. all those years ago. it’s certainly been a good few—you almost forgot the date, but apparently satoru remembers. he remembers enough to go get shit-faced drunk as if the memory is too much to bear.

does he do this every year? drink away his sorrows every anniversary of the day you left him? does he really still care that much? why hasn’t he moved on?

and then you stop thinking about it. it’s not your problem.

but then you just…can’t help but be a bit more gentle around him. it happens without your control. maybe it’s muscle memory. maybe you’re finally letting your muscles relax and do that involuntary thing of their own that they do.

evidently that’s to be more soft with the boy who broke your heart. except he’s a man now, you suppose. he should’ve been a man when you dated him—but you’re glad he grew up eventually. even if you couldn’t be there with him for it.

but you’re a bit more friendly with him now—you suppose you can coexist with your talkative neighbor that also happens to be your awful ex boyfriend. you answer him a bit more when he talks to you, ask him about his students when he brings them up—he brightens so much when you do. it’s….painfully endearing.

yuji is sweet, a little too kind for his own good. nobara is a little tough to soften up, but once you do, she loves tenfold. megumi is a grump, but he’s a real softie. yuta is a bit socially awkward, but he’s got a good heart. maki is all business and very studious, but she’s a determined young girl. panda is not a panda—his name is odd but he’s funny. toge is quiet, but he looks out for people.

they’re good kids. he cares a great deal about them.

and then you start to tell him about your job. how your boss is another baldy that’s annoying—just like the professor you both shared. he chuckles at that. your coworkers are a good gossip, but you’d never go hang out with them outside of work. well, maybe except for one—utahime is a nice person, even if a bit of a priss sometimes.

it’s nice, talking to him. he’s funny, makes banter easily like it’s second nature. sometimes….sometimes it feels like old times. you’re not so sure how you feel about that, but you think it’s not bad. you can be grown ups, the two of you. you can be adults and ignore your immature past. the hurt is still there, but it’s manageable now. doesn’t linger and doesn’t weigh on you anymore.

sometimes satoru still stares at you in that way he did all those years ago, sometimes he still stutters over his words and loses his train of thought when he meets your eyes. he still loves you—you knew that from the start.

you stopped loving him a long time ago. that’s what you thought, anyway—but sometimes seeing satoru is….too familiar. it makes you feel things you thought you buried away for good. maybe it’s just deja vu, maybe it’s just the history speaking for itself.

or maybe…maybe you’re starting to tread a more dangerous path. the one that led you to your first, and worst heartbreak. you can’t step foot on that path again, no matter what.

that’s what you tell yourself, anyway—but satoru and you are talking one night. in front of your doors, like usual. you’re excited from a raise at work, and he’s excited because his students have done exceptionally on their final exams and you’re both celebratory in spirit enough that it turns into a cheery hug—and then…and then you’re kissing.

that wasn’t supposed to happen, but it does. you don’t know who kisses who, but you’re both wrapped up in each other and your lips are pressed against the others and oh, he feels so, so familiar.

like home. even if it’s not always safe to be there anymore, it’s still your home. you can’t let go of that nostalgia.

and then his hands cup your cheeks and your arms wrap around his neck and suddenly he’s in your bed—your door was already unlocked and the two of you somehow managed to stumble through the entire apartment until your back hits your mattress. your place is similar enough to his that he finds your room without any issues.

it was never supposed to happen—the shedding of clothes and the desperately needy kisses. the way you held his face and he held you. the way he trembled as he touched you, scared he’d mess it up again. the way you laced your fingers and kissed him between his brows like old times.

and then he fucks you like he means it. has his head in the crook of your neck and sniffles into your skin, rolls his hips and makes you mewl his name while he tells you every good thing about you.

you’re beautiful, the prettiest he’s ever seen. you’re so soft when you love, so delicate with the ones who hold your affection, it’s too much for anyone to deserve. you’re laugh is like music, a melody that’s impossible to grow tired of. but the most important part? you look at everyone like they’re worth something—just for existing, just for being there with you and crossing your path. worth your time, and energy, and compassion. they never have to work for it.

it’s rare, finding someone like that. it’s even more rare to get them to fall in love with you—satoru has never stopped regretting letting that go.

he whispers that all through breathy moans and the occasional cracked sob. whimpers when your fingers lock into his hair and pull the strands when his swollen tip kisses that spot he never forgot how to find. you cum first, falling apart with a gasp—and he cums right after, like feeling you is what it takes to make him come undone.

you still do that thing you did—rubbing his back as he spills into you, soothing him as he pants harshly into your skin. the only difference is that you don’t kiss his head sweetly and call him yours. god, he misses that so, so badly.

when his body slumps over yours, it’s when it hits you, what you just did.

“oh no,” you breathe, “oh god. we….we shouldn’t have done that, should we?” you ask tiredly.

satoru’s lip is trembling—he can’t bear to have you regret him. not again.

“i love you,” he says desperately, “i…i never stopped.”

“obviously you didn’t love me enough,” you mumble, not looking at him. it’s something you’ve realized—looking satoru in his eyes makes you weak.

you can’t have that.

“i’ll love you more than enough now,” he promises.

“what if i say i don’t love you anymore, satoru?” you challenge, “it’s been years. i didn’t wait around for you.”

his breath shakes at that. you think you got him there, but apparently he’s determined. it shocks you.

“then i’ll love enough for the both of us.”

for a moment, you can’t help but think if only everyone could see him now. years later. gojo satoru begging you to let him love you hard enough that you don’t have to. being okay with half of you because that’s better than none of you.

it’s almost comical. maybe a little sad. entirely avoidable if he’d just been brave from the start.

“that’s not fair to you,” you sigh, “you’re an asshole but…but you don’t deserve that. you deserve someone who can love you—”

“then i’ll show you,” he grabs your hand, pressing it to his face as he looks at you with enough hope that it’s almost too cruel to crush it. even for someone like him. “i’ll show you how to love me again. it’ll be easier this time. i promise.”

there’s a tear that slips down his cheek—and then another and another and another. and your thumb, just like muscle memory, swipes it away.

you want to tell him—it’s always been so, so easy to love satoru. easier than anything in the world. easier than loving yourself. it came like second nature, flowed through your blood stream and pumped through your heart. you loved him so easily.

you wish he’d loved himself a little bit easier back then. maybe he’d have realized who was worth keeping and who wasn’t. maybe he’d be happier now—a selfish part of you thinks you could’ve been happier that way too.

“satoru,” you sigh, “i have more self respect these days.”

“i know,” he nods, “i’ll be good—so good. i promise. i’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed and we can have three cats and i’ll pay for the vet visits. just like you always wanted.”

you can’t help but chuckle at that. he’s always known how to be charming at the right times.

“and what about the fancy window i always wanted?”

“i’ll get you one of those too,” he swears, “find us a nice place by the school and your job and we’ll be the best cat parents ever. and i’ll be good. so good.”

“i can’t do that all again,” you shake your head, “crying over someone like you is not worth it.”

“i won’t make you cry,” he insists.

something in you screams to believe him—that voice from your youth. that one that never quite stopped falling in love. that one that can’t ever really let him go.

“you don’t deserve me,” you mumble, pulling him close. he tucks his head into your neck, kisses your skin and breathes you in like he needs you to live.

maybe he does.

“i know,” he murmurs. “but i love you. i’ll make you love me again.”

“good luck,” you snort—your hand weaves into his hair, and your lips kiss his head.

well….maybe he’s already succeeded.

#i wasn’t gonna tag this buuuuuuuut….its kinda long so #i was like eh why not #but i’m not like tagging every tag just the main few #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #bully! gojo tag

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