Helloooo I am yuwnaaa! Im a yumeship who doesn't know how to draw, a multifandom person who saved too many edits of my favorite characters in my phone(also use them to imagine that I am in the edit) and a person who's basically obsessed with fictional people rather than real people.. I am lithromantic and bisexual at the same time and really wants to be in a relationship and at the same time don't kuuuuuuus I lose feelings easily... I'm an ambivert but mostly an awkward introvert that will always make a conversation awkward as fuck..
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Synopsis: What happens when a duke drinks one of your fake love potions and blames whatever he feels for you on it? Presuming you cursed him instead, he drags you back to his mansion and refuses to let you leave until you reverse the spell.
You’ve now been working for four months to cure a curse that doesn’t exist, and the duke has somehow become even more obsessed with you.
…At least you’re finally getting paid.
The duke has gotten moodier.
Like he wasn’t moody enough, he was now as annoying as a pesky fly. Always hovering around.
And it’s unfortunately interfering with your ability to work. (You’ve become a workaholic ever since you stepped foot on his mansion, just so you could leave sooner.)
He’d sit by your table, head propped lazily on his hand, and with the other he’d play with your hair.
“Your hair is weird.” He’d comment casually, pointing out your hair type. It doesn’t matter if other people also had straight, wavy or curly hair. Yours was still somehow the weird one.
It’s become a routine for him to nitpick something about your appearance, habits, or personality whenever he could.
“It’s just hair, Your Grace.” You say with gritted teeth, his hand still stroking your hair distractingly.
“Hm.” He’d simply hum, and go to another strand, feeling the texture between his fingertips.
“Is it because you’re a witch you look like this?”
You pause the work in your hands, glancing up at him with squinting eyes. Is he saying that because of the rumors calling witches ugly?
“Like what?” You ask, trying to see where this was going.
“Pretty.”
His answer came immediately, simple and clear. His face not changing one bit.
You stared at him dumbfounded. Somehow, he’d managed to call you pretty while making it sound like an insult at the same time.
You worried all the antidotes he’d been drinking were giving him such strange side effects.
Or, the other possibility is that someone must’ve hit him on the head. You wouldn’t be surprised if he’d angered anyone by now with his prickly demeanor. Actually, you pray someone hits him just to satisfy your own desire.
His hand continued playing with your hair, while his eyes watched you languidly without shame. You hoped he could see the tick mark appearing at your forehead from anger, because you were this close to actually causing him brain damage if no one else does it before you!
Just one comment, I dare you! You glared at him. And he caught it, eyes widening for a bit.
“Even your eyes are weird.” He leaned closer, examining your eyes and pointing out their color like it’s something unnatural. But he doesn’t stop there, gaze dropping down to your hands now.
He wrapped two fingers around your wrist, frowning.
“And what kind of wrist is this small? You’re so weak it’s alarming— ACK.”
His comment was cut off by a hard bonk to the head from you, making him bite down his tongue.
“GET DOWN!”
The servants standing aside immediately duck on instinct, waiting for the splash of red to paint the room.
…
A few seconds of silence passed before they finally dared to peek open their eyes. To see you were still… intact? And without a single scratch even.
Instead, they find it was the duke who looked harmed, rubbing his head with a sulky expression.
“Why do you look so angry? You’re supposed to be smiling like what the books said…” The duke looked down glumly, and the servants couldn’t believe their eyes. Was the duke pouting?
You, however, didn’t look fazed by the sight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about but you should know better than to talk about a woman’s appearance like this!”
The duke stared back at you, his lips pressing into a thin line.
“Look, I don’t understand why you’re even here but—“
He stood up straight, making you pause your words to crane your neck back up at him. His height even more intimidating with you still sitting down in front of him.
“You… You are a violent woman. I can work with that.” He muttered the last part to himself, hand going under his chin to contemplate something.
Another vein popped up at your forehead. “The only one trying to work is me! MEEEE!”
In return, he’d also frown at your words. A vein matching your own popping up his forehead.
“Work, work, work. All you do is work, maybe that’s why you’re so prickly, woman!” He pointed accusingly.
Your lips parted in disbelief. “YOU brought me here to work, why are you getting irritated? And who are you calling prickly!”
Cue another banter followed between you and the duke, while the servants standing by watched you both bemused.
Two maids shared looks between each other, blinking a few times.
“Do we… Do we stop them? Or her at least?”
“No… Just, leave them be.” The older maid sighed, shaking her head at the image of the most feared duke currently acting like an idiot. “I’ve seen this happen four times already yet still cannot get used to it.”
When will the duke finally realize why he’s being so clingy?
It’s been four months.
Four months since you were brought to this mansion, working day and night to reverse whatever spell he’s convinced you have on him.
You don’t care anymore if his claims are true or not, just working to figure out whatever the hell he was complaining about and cure him.
And you were sure that at some point, he’d realize that you weren’t behind anything. Maybe grow tired of you and have an ounce of mercy to let you go eventually. Or by a silver of luck, you might finally find a working antidote that will do the job instead.
But no. The man’s very stubborn, and he was adamant on keeping you chained to his mansion.
And luck wasn’t on your side either, no antidote working so far in curing this mental illness of his.
“How much longer…” You sniffled, curling up your knees to your chest.
Rarely did you have any time to yourself without the duke by your side. Though, whenever you did, you’d quietly curse him (not literally) to empty some of your frustration.
Other times you’d cry from loneliness. Just like right now, heart swelling in longing.
It’s been months since the last time you’ve been outside. Oh how you miss the strolls you’d take in forests, collecting herbs for your potions, talking with other fellow witches, and most importantly…
“Money!”
When was the last time you’ve smelled the sweet unmistakable scent of gold coins? Four months!!!
This heartless duke’s been keeping you under his thumb without any compensation or proper employment. You’ve been basically working underneath him for free, all labor and no reward.
“Damn you, duke…!” You mumbled, burying your face further between your arms.
“Witch!” An annoying voice echoed in the hallway, halting your sniffs. Followed by the undeniable footsteps you’ve grown accustomed to, belonging to no one else but the duke.
Dang it, he finished sword training early today. You scramble off the floor quickly to find a new hiding place further from here.
Maybe the servant’s kitchen area will work—
Slam, the door opened. Revealing the duke at the doorway, water still clinging to his hair from the rushed shower he’d taken. All to find you quicker.
“Witch, I’ve been looking for you everywhere—“ His words die out once your eyes meet his own, still glossy and with cheeks tear-stained.
A sniff escaped you before you could even greet him, confirming the man’s dread that you were indeed crying.
“You… What happened to you?” He crossed the room in seconds, leaning to take a closer look at you.
“What? Nothing!” You looked away, realizing the mess your face must look like right now. You’d rather die than ever show this man a vulnerable sight, though you’ve showed that sight to him a few times at the start…
“Nothing?” He frowned, stepping closer with a stomp. “Your eyes are puffy and red from crying yet you still dare lie to my face?”
You still didn’t face him, his lips drawing a firm line at the avoidance of your gaze.
“Duke, you should go dry your hair first. Or you’ll catch a cold.” You gritted out, the last part more of a threat than a worry for his wellbeing, the urge to curse him for real this time emerged.
“Are you changing the subject? Do not test my patience and explain.” His words seemed desperate, angry and frustrated for a reason you did not care enough to understand.
“It’s none of your concern, Your Highness.”
Can he not get a hint? You just really wanted to be alone right now, from him especially.
“…”
The man did not budge, though his gaze lowered a little in contemplation.
Your words had irked him, none of his concern? How ridiculous.
You lived under his roof, ate the food he provided, and spent every waking hour in his manor… Whose concern would it be if not his?
“It does concern me, actually. Now tell me, what… caused this?” He pointed awkwardly, unsure of how to address the state he found you in. And comfort was a subject he was not familiar with at all.
“I said, nothing.” You repeated, but it did nothing to convince him.
“…Was it someone?” He frowned, changing the question into a “‘who’ did this” instead. That earned a scoff from you, giving him the wrong impression.
“Someone from the staff? One of the guards who harmed you? Give me names, now.” He ordered, hands crossed in front of him as he awaited a hit-list to be given. If only he knew the first name on that list was his own…
“No, and no. They did nothing wrong, don’t accuse innocent people!”
“Then was it the gardeners? Just tell me which bastard was it, I’ll have their heads rolling in minutes—“
“AGH! It’s no one, okay?” You covered your ears at the violent words he was spewing, enough to draw a disturbingly graphic image in your mind that had you feeling queasy.
Still getting no answer from you, the man’s lips turned into a straight line again.
“…You’re my employee, so I have the right to know what has you slacking off work.”
You broke whatever personal rule of not showing him your face, turning around with a whiplash at his words.
Because this was exactly what you’ve been tearing about earlier. How dare he bring that up so naturally without any shame!
“Employee? Me? Since WHEN?” You threw your arms open in outrage, utterly offended by his words.
He just stood there confused. His crossed arms falling limply to the side.
You were sad, terribly. And he was just twisting the knife at the wound that had you down. “I am an undocumented slave at your hands! And slavery was banned years ago, you stupid Duke!”
He raised a finger to speak, lips parting to get a word out, but you weren’t done yet.
“Listen, we’re in a modern society now. There’s nothing wrong with seeking a therapist! Mental health is important, ya know?”
It’s been on your mind for a while, a suggestion you were about to bring up naturally had he not forced you into this conversation.
Seriously, the ‘love potion’ you brewed months ago must’ve already passed his system. And with little to no information about his symptoms, you had no idea what to do anymore.
You sighed pitifully, the man getting more confused by the second.
“I mean, like… Maybe you should seek a different method of treatment, yeah?”
He did not answer, pushing you into speaking further.
“I think it’s about time you let me go—“
Your words don’t even get to finish before two rough hands latched onto your shoulders, making you wince.
“No. You… What kind of suggestion is that?” His voice wavered, before he gruffly voiced the very thing he hated to presume you were saying. “You dare try to leave?”
The way he said that had you glance up at him in confusion. His eyes stared back dilated, and the hands on your shoulders gripped harder, attempting to squeeze out an answer from you.
“You’re the one who cursed me, and you’ll stay right here till the curse gets reversed. Until then, I won’t let you go.”
His frown twisted further, just the thought of you leaving making him sick.
…Oh. Your lips formed a small circle, parted helplessly without any words to respond back.
You’d been too comfortable lately. Too confident in the fact that he’d never try to hurt you, and you’d completely forgotten about his true image as a feared duke.
But now you weren’t sure anymore, that confidence you had which allowed you to speak freely weighed down on you belated.
Damn it, and you’d just called him a stupid duke earlier.
It reminded you once again that you were only here because of a misunderstanding—breathing and alive because the man genuinely thinks you’ve cursed him.
You didn’t dare break eye contact, his red eyes never allowing you a glance away, and it had your fear skyrocket at once. All that sass you’ve shown so far swallowed deep in your throat.
But then you felt it. Beneath your own shaking shoulders were the tremors of someone else. Him.
The fingertips of his hands—still gripped uncomfortably on your shoulders—were trembling.
“…”
What was he afraid of…? You dared not voice out your question, continuing to stare back at him in a frozen state.
The excruciatingly long silence finally broke when the duke spoke first.
“…So it’s just about the employment? Is that why you’re upset?” His voice came out softer than before, the frown on his lips easing a bit into a straight line.
You slowly nodded, no use in denying it with him holding you hostage between his arms.
Though you weren’t sure who was the hostage anymore. The way he looked at you wasn’t that of a man holding someone captive, but one who had become captive himself.
“…Very well.” His answer came after another pause. “I’ll have a proper employment contract drafted in no time.”
You blinked up at him a few times. This easily?
“Really?”
“Mhm.” He nodded, the grip on your shoulders relaxing at the glint in your eyes.
“And… I’ll get paid?” You asked, just to double check.
“Obviously.”
You squint at him for a long moment, trying to see what was the catch.
“…You’re actually agreeing?”
His brows furrowed, lips pulling down a bit at your distrust.
“You’ve only made one request so far. Continue.” He nodded curtly for more.
Permission was all you needed, not waiting any longer to ask.
“Then I want weekends off.”
“Granted.” His hands left to cross in front of him, satisfied at your compliance.
“…With paid leave.”
“Done.” Suddenly, a steward stood beside him noting down everything with a flick from the duke’s finger. (…Since when had there been a steward in here?)
“…Lunch breaks.”
“Alright.” He nodded with his chin, the steward working double to keep up everything.
“Plus monthly bonuses!” You pointed with a finger enthusiastically.
“If your performance is satisfactory.”
Your jaw nearly hit the floor, but one last request still needed to be made.
“Oh! And—“ You cleared your throat, hiding a smirk behind your hand.
His foot tapped impatiently. “What else?”
You couldn’t forget the most important one of all.
“I want my own bedroom.”
A moment of silence from everyone in the room took place.
One maid quietly covered another servant’s mouth before he could laugh.
Even the steward stopped writing.
The guards suddenly found the opposite wall incredibly interesting.
Simultaneously, they all finally remembered you never had a proper bedroom assigned to you. Usually staying up all night working in the duke’s bedroom or sleeping in the servant’s quarters.
“…Done. Guards?”
Everyone relaxed at the duke’s words, you especially.
The agreement brought you great relief, placing a hand over your chest to sigh. Finally, all problems solved—
Until he casually turned to the guards, one hand raised up for the closest to approach him.
“Move the finest bed in the manor beside mine.”
The guard bowed immediately. “At once, Your Grace—“
“NO!” You yelled, pausing the duke in his place to stare confused.
“I said my own bedroom! Bed. Room.” You repeated twice, but the duke only looked back annoyed.
“You will have one, as I just said.” One of his brows raised up, still not getting your point.
“Uhh, yeah? One with four walls and a roof, all to myself!” Your hands moved to draw a box shape midair.
“…”
The duke was quiet then, a hand came up his chin to contemplate something.
“…Three walls and no more.” He held up three fingers, and you stared back at them blankly.
“…A what now?”
“Compromise.”
Haaah, after thirty minutes of negotiating, you ended up being granted everything but the last request.
You mumbled a few incoherent phrases as you signed the employee contract, one that was quickly whipped up and waiting in the hand of the steward.
True to his words, the duke builds a room for you with three walls.
…Located in the corner of his own bedroom.
You were basically roommating with the man, and he dared look satisfied about it.
An infuriating smirk played on his lips as he exited the bathroom, dressed in a silk nightgown heading to his bed.
You face the wall to hide your scowl, listening unintentionally to how the bed rustled from his movement.
He made himself comfortable under the blankets first before finally addressing you out, rather cheerfully.
“I’m going to sleep.” He peeked an eye at your figure, back facing him.
“Congratulations.” You uttered dryly. The flat response visibly irked him, as he called out a moment later to ask.
“…Was that sarcasm?”
You didn’t acknowledge him with more than a hum, annoying him further.
“…Turn off the lights.” He ordered, a frown you couldn’t see was pulling his lips down.
You still don’t reply, just getting up to extinguish the lamp as instructed. Not the response he was awaiting.
“Tch… Don’t you dare leave the room. Got that?”
“Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep now!” You waved him off, kicking the blankets annoyed.
“Good.” He huffed, sounding oddly satisfied despite having run out of excuses to talk.
Silence engulfed the room, the only noise coming from the hooting owls outside and rustling leaves.
You laid on the bed facing the wall, never turning around to see if the duke was doing the same or not.
And just as you were about to fall asleep, a hushed voice called out softly.
“…Good night.” He murmured, never awaiting for you to say it back. Already succumbing to sleep with the soft snores that followed after.
You stilled in this new bed, the frown on your face easing a bit at the awkward gesture.
Though the anger in you still didn’t subside completely, you did feel a toll of it leave you in a sigh.
“…Well,” you pulled the blanket over your head. “At least I’m getting paid to deal with him now.”
You then followed him into dreamland. No other thought lingering in your money-crazed head.
Zzzzzz.
.
..
…
Hmm… But wait, aren’t you forgetting something?
Likeeee reading the employee contract twice before signing?
Or, hey, did you even receive a signed copy of the contract?
Who knows what you just signed away. Maybe you should’ve thought twice about calling yourself ‘a slave’ in this man’s presence.
…
Might’ve just given him ideas.
Tag list: @musicalfan2026 @violetvase @justatimidcreator @aluvrina @dearlyhyeon
warnings: 18+ nsfw content, creampie, dirty talk, a bit rought
«Please, honey, I can't take any more»
This sounds little like moaning. You whimper and whine as your body shudders from his fierce, rough thrusts. Your hands are tightly bound above your head with his scarf. Aizawa's strong, commanding palms squeeze your thighs until they bruise, spreading them wider. You can't say for certain how long this has been going on. How long his thick cock has been practically tearing apart your poor, already sopping wet pussy. A damp spot of your arousal has pooled on the sheet beneath your hips. What started as an innocent joke ended in your grand failure. And all you wanted was to punish your husband a little for his indifference and inattention to you.
Over the past week, Aizawa had been staying late at work more and more often. He constantly complained that his students were going to drive him completely insane and be the reason he had a stroke in his early thirties. Every time he came home, he would gently kiss your forehead, take a shower, have dinner, and immediately go to bed. And it had been like that for several days. By the end of the week, you were literally aching with desire for your man. You missed his large body covering yours. His kisses and bites that left faint, yet still noticeable, marks on your neck. In the end, you missed his cock that pleased you so perfectly. But it was as if your husband had forgotten you even existed, and you decided to teach him a lesson.
When Shota came home today, it was around ten in the evening. The tired, lifeless look in his eyes, his slumped shoulders, and the mournful expression on his face almost made you throw yourself into his arms and kiss the face so dear to your heart, but you couldn't give in to weakness. Your husband had neglected his duties for far too long. You greeted him wearing nothing but your underwear. At his surprised look, you simply waved it off:
«All my clothes are in the wash and I had nothing to wear»
He didn't ask any unnecessary questions and merely shrugged indifferently, although you noticed a spark of interest flicker in his eyes. For the rest of the evening, you tormented him relentlessly, as if laying siege to a fortress. You deliberately dropped your towel and slowly bent down to pick it up. You walked back and forth through the kitchen, swaying your hips slowly. You "accidentally" brushed against his shoulder while placing his dinner in front of him. You felt victorious when Shota finally couldn't take it anymore and, grabbing you, bent you over the table, roughly pulling down your already damp underwear. But your triumph turned into defeat.
This had been going on for several hours. First the kitchen table, then the living room couch, and now your bed. He had come at least 4 times already, and still had no intention of stopping. He knew he had turned you into a pathetic, begging mess, and that thought made him grin. Now it was his turn to control the situation. He wrapped his palm around your throat, drawing a pleased whimper from your lips.
«My beautiful little wife wanted to tease her husband? Such a big mistake. I'll have to teach you some good manners after that, darling. Open your mouth and look me in the eyes»
With difficulty, you opened your tear-streaked eyes and focused your gaze on Shouta's face. His dark, almost black eyes were looking straight into your soul, a predatory grin curving his lips. He clearly knew that tonight he would get everything he wanted. You slowly opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue. His palm was still gripping your throat, firmly but not tightly. You knew what he was about to do and feared that once it happened, nothing would hold back your next orgasm. The man grinned.
«My good girl»
Immediately after those words, he spat into your mouth. His hand released your throat and now pushed the saliva deeper down your throat. Wrapping your lips around his fingers, you whimpered. Too much. This was practically sensory overload. His thrusts became more chaotic and rougher. One palm continued to grip your thigh, while the other moved his fingers back and forth between your lips. You could no longer handle it. Your eyes rolled back as the orgasm washed over you completely. His hip bone rubbed against your clit so unbearably pleasurably with each thrust that it had, in fact, become an inevitable outcome. Your pulsing, overstimulated pussy clenched tightly around his arousal, pushing the man toward orgasm. A few moments later, he followed his wife over the edge. His fingers, which had just been teasing your mouth, moved to the back of your head, gripping your hair tightly. He pressed his mouth to yours, kissing furiously, biting and pushing his tongue deeper. It lasted only a few moments that felt like an eternity to you.
«My love, you did just beautifully. I'm sorry I ignored your needs for so long. I'll make it up to you»
His forehead pressed against your shoulder as he whispered into your ear. His cock was still moving lazily inside you, causing semen to spill out and stain the sheets even more than before. But you couldn't care less. Your husband had finally satisfied you with what you'd been dreaming of all week. And it was worth it.
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there's something oddly charismatic about a man who's cocky about the monster he's packing in his pants. your boyfriend shouta is no exception - any man or woman could tell by the wolfish grin on his face when he passes by, that someone is extremely lucky at home. the envious stares from strangers and jealous altercations with any male who interacts with you are a product of his ego. and well, after the string of losers you've dated, being with shouta felt like emotional and physical whiplash in the best way.
he knows he's in a completely different league than your exes and beats them in all categories. but the one that really, really gets him going is how much bigger his cock is. you recall the predatory glint in his eyes the moment he kicked off his boxers. "it's okay to stare, sweetheart." it's all you can do - jaw dropped and pussy that much wetter just by the sight of his cock. "just know, it always gets the job done."
it's noticeable - when he's repeatedly shifting in his seat because his huge dick is in the way all the time. he prefers the gray sweatpants that have your mouth watering from the print forming near his inner thigh. "can barely contain it," he brags rightfully. "too big, eh? can't decide which hole of yours i wanna over stuff." he's not heartless - there's a good amount of prep involved to ensure pain is never a part of the equation. after all, feeding his ego is a kink both of you know consent is the key to enjoying.
with a cock as high maintenance like his, variety is the way to go. sliding nine whole inches between your tits all soaked with lube and precum while tweaking your cute and ultra sensitive nipples. smearing the head of his cock all over your face, lips and cheeks before lustfully tilting your chin up so you can open nice and wide. gripping your ass with one hand aggressively enough so your pussy lips easily spread open for his awaiting girth.
once (and only once) you jokingly referred to him as small and nearly ended up with a bruised cervix. "think i'm small, huh? this dick not good enough for your greedy pussy?" not only does he feverishly mock you with words, but quickens the pace of his thrusts, applying more of his body weight onto you. the experience taught you and your pussy a valuable lesson in how not to tease your overly endowed boyfriend.
You're obsessed with your magic teacher, Master Qifrey, but he always treats you with the utmost respect, when you'd really love to get railed by him </3 Enter - Master Gojo. He's brought in to assist, and he has no issue giving you all sorts of lessons that Qifrey won't - like making you squirt. Qifrey is not very happy catching Satoru fingering you on the dining room table of all places though, so decides to make it both your problems!
٠ ࣪⭑ pairings - yandere! Gojo x witch! reader x Sorcerer! Qifrey
٠ ࣪⭑ warnings - Gojo being a little shit, kinda a crack fic lol, Qifrey losing it, horny reader, Qifrey and Gojo kiss on... accident!? twice! (Sure) fingering, oral (m and f receiving) p in v sex, spitting, cum swapping, Eifel tower, tummy bulges, creampies wc- 3.2k
part of my crossover event!!! I will have two more (Sugu / Sebby and Choso / Valko!) ty to everyone for two years on Tumblr - despite a couple loud haters, the majority of you all have made me very happy to write here!
qifrey art here!! Gojo art here!!
Satoru hates watching you like this, the apprentice of his damn dreams just over there drawing pretty patterns – with Master Qifrey of all people.
Oh, you'd think they got along because they're both white haired sorcerers?
Well you'd be dead ass wrong.
Satoru can't stand how much you have swooned at Qifrey since he's arrived to help with training the future witches here, don't you realize Satoru has six fucking eyes!? Qifrey has only one, how the fuck could he ever even dream to keep up with Satoru Gojo of all people?
It was amusing, him thinking he could – but was not amusing was seeing his crush with Qifrey, following him all around and giggling as if you were one of the other girls he kept. But no, you were a whole ass woman, and Satoru thinks Qifrey should keep to being a step dad, and leave you all to Gojo himself.
You were supposed to be training with him too, but half the time Qifrey was on some bullshit and just disappeared, leaving Gojo to deal with all the damn kids always getting into trouble. He was fine when he left though, when it meant moments with you all to himself.
His fists clench now, pretty blue eyes narrowing as he watches you and that white haired copycat through an arched window, you peek then, turning your head to the side as if you could feel his eyes – and catch him, making him flap his arms around and fall back on the soft grass.
Shit.
He doesn't need you to know how often he watches you, especially since he's come here - he should be focusing on the apprentices he is here to train, not dying over you, jerking his cock in the room next to yours. But you just smell so good, and you look up at him so damn pretty.
You're always simping for Qifrey though.
Satoru is right here!?
He is always trying to show you things, yet - like a brat, really - you're all doe eyed for the other white haired sorcerer. But this weekend, it’s gonna be his chance – for you to see how strong he is. Surely when Satoru shows you his own powers, you’ll get soaking wet.
Well…
You do get soaking wet, when Satoru accidentally transports you into a goddamn ocean.
“Shit!” He must have been distracted!? “I’m sorry, sweetheart… this never happens and…”
“It’s f-fine,” you’re coughing and shivering, your thin white gown clinging to your body in a way that further ruins Satoru altogether, his cock throbbing at the sight of you like this. “I think your transportation magic is… ahem… really…”
“You’re shivering,” he pouts now, tugging you to him, ignoring how good your tits feel against his chest, all lush and pretty. “I am sorry, lemme get you back home. I wanted to show you the beach, not…”
“It’s all right, Master Gojo,” you smile all tremulously, clinging to his neck as he picks you up. “I’m a little dizzy.”
“I’ve got you…”
Satoru gets you back, and after you’ve gotten into dry clothes, he realizes that the two of you are alone.
No kids up.
No one eyed Qifrey and his lover (that’s who Satoru thinks that man is, well… Satoru sure hopes!)
It’s his chance to show you a different magic.
He gathers himself that night at dinner, you're sitting next to him tonight, his hand resting on your thigh as he smiles at you, watching you bite down on your lip, a pretty flush to your skin.
"I am sorry again for today,” he murmurs, brushing a lock of your drying hair back gently. “I really thought I had that one down.”
“It was kind of fun,” you giggle now, sipping your wine, a drop of it on your lips. “Master Qifrey always keeps me away from any danger, locked up almost. So it was a little… exhilarating.”
“Yeah?” You nod and he exhales.
Thank God.
“I actually have a different method than Qifrey does for magic," he murmurs softly, as you nibble on your dinner. "I should show you some time."
"Oh, different from the ocean trip?"
"Mhm," you lean forward just a bit, pretty tits leaned out of your neckline for his hungry blue eyes to hit. You sip your wine carefully once more, feeling the intensity of his gaze taking your breath.
You may or may not have a crush on Qifrey - but you also may or may not have a crush on Satoru.
Scandalous, you can't do such things!
They're both your teachers, and you're a grown woman, much unlike the young girls that joined you as apprentices, aren't you supposed to set an example? But your thoughts are utterly wicked - imagining just how much of their cocks you can fit in your throat.
Scandalous thoughts that must end!
"I could show you, it's a little different," Satoru says, chuckling and slipping up that blindfold he wears constantly, letting pretty blue eyes drift across your collarbones. "More based on touch than drawings."
You feel your cunt clench around nothing. "Oh, touch, you say?"
"Mhm."
"Well,” you set down your glass, heart racing as the fire crackles, illuminating his tall shadow taking over yours on one of the stone walls of the Atelier. “I'm most eager to learn."
It's moments before Satoru has you spread right on that table, shoving your skirts up, his fingers pumping in and out of your needy cunt, the squelching so damn loud. He's leaning over you, as his fingers move in and out faster, a hand clutching yours as it rests on the table, your ass arched all pretty against him as you cry out.
"S-Satoru!"
Your voice is all hoarse as your head falls back, as much as you adored Qifrey - well, he'd kept it all professional. He'd never done more than brush your cheek with his fingers once, a lean close – so close you thought he’d kiss you – just to pull back and walk right out.
Not Satoru.
He had no problem kissing you messy, his eyes were insane as he hit your sweet spot over and over, laughing against your ear, lips brushing against it.
"How are my lessons, pretty little witch?"
"Wh-what... are you teaching, ngh," his teeth nip your ear, eliciting a filthy little cry. “They’re v-very – ah! Gojo…”
“Satoru,” he whispers, pumping faster with his thick fingers in your plump, messy cunt. “Say it, sweetheart.”
“Satoru!”
That's what Qifrey hears when he walks in.
"Well, here's that sweet spot, the one that makes you gush," he's honing in on it, smirking when Qifrey walks in, but your face is pressed against the table cloth, drooling on it, Satoru’s hand entangled in your hair.
Qifey is torn - between wanting to fuck Satoru up and wanting to drag you right over to himself, hearing your pathetic, mewling little cries, your squelching cunt as the dumb fucking sorcerer he brought in to help is touching you. Qifrey’s hands are damn near shaking, clenching into fists as he walks in, slamming his gear down on the ground loud enough for you both to pause.
Satoru just smirks, this little shit.
Your face is all fucked out, drool down your lips, eyes glazed over in a way Qifrey had only ever dreamed of.
Oh yes, filthy dreams of his apprentice, the one he’d tried so fucking hard to make sure not to touch, to be professional. Yet here Satoru Gojo is, with his dumb blindfold shoved up his face, grinning right at him and apparently fingering your cunt again, judging by the messy, wet sounds echoing and your little moan.
“What is the meaning of this!?” He demands, you bite your lower lip, but Satoru simply hums a bit, reaching around to grip one of your tits, squishing it in his hand.
“I was showing her my own magic, one eye.”
Qifrey snorts, shaking his head and pulling out his little notebook. “Time for you to get locked the fuck away, six eye freak.”
“Aww, can’t make her cum without your doodles?” He’s got you arching, and Qifrey’s cock is throbbing underneath his robes, his eye damn near twitching behind that spectacle, as your nails scramble for purchase on the table.
Qifrey walks over and Satoru is furious at how you grip his fingers when he’s that close, how thick your coating of slick gets, he gets so mad he slips a third finger inside, making you cry out.
“Eyes on me,” he murmurs in your ear, but the other sorcerer is gripping your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze, that eye glinting dark.
“No, eyes on me,” he says softly in that tone of his, absolutely fucking you up, his free hand trailing down the side of your pretty tit, tracing the gentle curve as you’re trying to hold it together. “You needed your cunt played with and never told me?”
“She didn’t need to tell me,” Satoru’s lips pressed against your neck, his teeth nipping your skin.
“I tried but y-you… seemed very – ngh, reserved,” he sighs, shaking his head once more.
“Here in the dining room? Really, Gojo?”
“Want dinner though,” he pulls out his fingers, dripping with you, smirking as he sees the sorcerer fucking salivate, sucking your juices right off them, moaning, his cheeks hollowed. “She’s so tasty.”
“My room. Now.”
You both pause, Satoru raising a brow, but Qifrey just walks off, looking at you both behind his shoulder.
“I said now.”
You’re sure you’re in for the worst tongue lashing of your life, even as Satoru has this big, shit eating grin on his face, walking up the winding stairs to his room, when the door shuts behind you, and suddenly it’s Qifrey, his fingers on the buttons of your gown, making quick work of them. He sighs when he sees you naked, groaning at the sight of your pretty body as Gojo’s own eyes dart across.
“Seems our first time will have to be sharing you,” he murmurs, clicking his tongue and brushing your hair back. “Shame, I wanted you all to myself.”
“Who says I’ll share her?” Satoru tugs you to him, lifting you like it’s nothing with his hands on your thighs, carrying you right over to Qifrey’s bed and laying you down, just for the other sorcerer to come right over, shoving Satoru right over.
“You already started having fun,” he presses you down against those silk sheets, cool against your heated skin, making you tremble just a bit. “Look at you…”
“Master Qifrey…” You’re all flustered, and he raises a brow, as Satoru’s slipping off his top, revealing the muscles of his hard body, while Qifrey’s fingertips trail your thighs, sliding up and making you tremble.
“You were aching all this time, hmm?” His voice rushes over you, and Satoru’s sigh is loud.
“Will you move so I can show you how to eat pussy?”
“Tch, think I don’t know how to pleasure a woman?” Satoru is snickering as Qifrey kneels at the foot of the bed.
“Do you just draw on her thigh?” Qifrey doesn't answer, he simply slips his long fingers up your skin. Watching those juices pour right out.
"I've wanted to do this since I first saw you," Qifrey murmurs, as if it’s just for you – spreading your thighs with his hands carefully. "Taste this sweet, pretty little pussy."
“You have? I–ah!” He leans in, his breath hot against your sensitive folds, before his tongue makes contact with your dripping slit.
You cry out, arching against the bed, hips pressed up as he licks a slow stripe up your slit a few times, coating his tongue in it before he parts your puffy folds, circling your clit with deliberate precision. The very tip of his tongue swirling intricate patterns like drawings, all in front of Satoru Gojo.
“Fuck…” that's all he can manage, as one of your hands grip the sheets, and the other entangles in Qifreys pretty white locks.
“There it is,” he mumbles, pussy drunk as he smirks over at Satoru. “She quite likes her clit being covered in my ‘drawings’ hmm?”
Satoru watches with hungry blue eyes before kneeling down right next to him, his mouth capturing your other thigh in a little kiss, grasping dribbles that are glistening right down.
“Move over,” he bites your skin. nudging Qifrey aside. "Let me taste her too."
Instead of arguing, Qifrey simply shifts a bit, leaning over you to capture your chin, allowing Satoru to eye your dripping folds, parting your pussy wide and watching it clench around nothing.
Qifrey spits your own cum in your mouth.
“Swallow, pretty Apprentice.”
You eagerly obey, earning a pleased smirk as Satoru buries his face against you with just a bit of clumsiness, his tongue exploring every inch of your folds before pulling back with a groan.
"Fuck, you're tight," he mumbles, sliding a finger inside as Qifrey licks your clit again, the squelches obscene. "Can you even take us?"
“Mhm – ah!” Your thoughts are cut off when both men begin to eat your cunt – desperately, your hands in each of their silky white locks, one of your thighs in each hand as they spread you wide.
Qifrey leans in and captures Satoru's lips in a messy kiss as if to make sure to capture all your juices, his tongue slipping over Satoru's mouth to taste you on him. The sight makes your cunt clench around Satoru's fingers, the way they're moaning. The way the saliva drips between them – your two teachers sharing your taste between them right over your twitchy clit.
“Oh…” they both blush a bit and pull back as if it were some mistake, before diving back in, tongues circling your clit in tandem, both men's fingers working your needy cunt. “Did you two… ah. Kiss?”
“No!?”
“Indeed no!?”
You go to giggle.
Big mistake.
The two white haired sorcerers immediately position you, so you're laying on your back sideways on the bed, Qifrey settling between your thighs with his fat cock tugged out of his robes, as Satoru positions himself by your head, his pink tip dripping white little drops on your lips.
“You want me to take care of you, hmm? Pretty girl,” Qifrey’s words are fucking you up – blood rushing through your ears as you nod, feeling his cock slide between your puffy folds, while Satoru’s darts on the seem of your lips, running across it achingly slow.
"I want to watch that pretty throat bulge when I fuck it," he murmurs, moaning when you lap at his tip, your mouth opening wide. “Watch you swallow every inch."
"And I want to see myself…” He pushes right into your slick heat, you’re so damn wet your cunt takes him easy despite how fucking long he is, he lets out a little moan, eyeing that stomach bulging. “Right here.”
tBoth men eye your body, Qifrey painting pretty patterns with his fingers on your tummy, while his cock is gliding in, Satoru pressing so that you choke on him, shushing you carefully.
“That’s it, you can take us, sweetheart,” he cooes those words, watching his shape in your throat while he sees Qifrey’s cockprint moving in and out of your stomach. “Look at you. Made for it.”
“You're taking us so well,” Qifrey whispers, picking up your thighs now and spreading them wide, watching how she so greedily grabs onto his cock, every thrust making slick just pour. “I was neglecting my apprentice, I see.”
“You were,” Satoru whines out – Qifrey would make fun of that sound, but he’s doing the same goddamn thing when you grip him, swallowing around the other sorcerer’s cock. “Fuck…”
They begin to move their cocks in perfect sync, tears slip from the corners of your eyes as Satoru sinks deeper, and Qifrey’s tip is just kissing your cute lil cervix. You’re so full of both of them you can hardly see, vision fuzzy as your eyelashes flutter closed, seeing stars behind your eyes.
It’s not long before he has you on your hands and knees, sucking Satoru like that while his hand entangles in your hair, his heavy balls slapping your clit, the loud slick sounds of the men fucking you echoing in the bedchamber. Satoru’s gasping out as he shoves his cock fully inside your mouth, that tip gliding on your throat until your nose is flush with the little smattering of white hair, and Qifrey is leaned back, watching your cunt taking him.
“Look at that, so eager,” he clicks his tongue, smirking just a bit, that little eye glass fogging up with his own breaths as he pulls out fully, slapping his fat cock right on your needy cunt, chuckling. “Beggin’ for all that cum inside, isn’t she?”
Satoru pulls out so you can speak, throat sore with how he’s stretched it out, saliva just dripping from your lips. Satoru tilts your chin up, smiling down at you, thumb brushing over your lower lip now, swiping some of his pre.
“Answer him, sweetheart.”
“Want it,” you manage, peeking back to see your teacher gripping your hips, nudging his tip teasingly against your clit, coating it in sticky pre. “I do…”
“How do we ask, love?” Qifrey nudges your clit again. “Have I not taught you any manners during our lessons?”
“Please,” you whisper, gasping out as Qifrey shoves his length back inside your snug lil cunt, she’s quivering all round him as he leans close, and Satoru is tugging your mouth back open.
“Want to swallow all this cum while he fills you?” He asks, making your cheeks heat up. “Looking all innocent when you just want all this cum.”
“Mhm,” is all you can manage, tongue out, letting them both fuck their loads inside – so full you’re swallowing Gojo down, as Qifrey pumps you so full it won’t even stay in.
Don’t worry – the sorcerers make sure to clean your pussy right up, and if their tongues catch each other, well they’re just sharing your taste – and Qifrey’s cum is quite sweet, even if Satoru won’t admit it. They’re certainly not kissing, and they absolutely can’t stand each other – they’re just getting along for you!
katsuki letting you try on his gauntlets while he does his routine gear check and you're confused cuz he would never let someone other than himself put them on.
you're ecstatic tho so he gives you his gloves and then puts his gauntlets on you and you giggle about how their so heavy and how impressive it is that he wears them everyday, making them look weightless.
as you shower his strength in compliments he stares at you sitting on the edge of the bed, watching how you can hardly lift your hands wearing them and he drops to his knees, pulling you forward and shoving his head between your thighs, wasting no time he leaves a long lick over your clothed cunt.
you try to shoot your hands out to pull him away with a surprised gasp but realize you can't do much of anything with the gauntlets on, they fall weakly at your side while he gets to work quickly, pulling down your shorts and panties in one go and quickly latching onto your clit.
you go to pull your hands out of the gauntlets but he stops you by gripping your arms and pulling you closer and then your just kinda stuck there just moaning and whining while he has his way with you and he's laughing at you and idk katsuki come get me pls...
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I find that crazy that mc had to wait until mio finally came along to finally get some repairs to her dorm.... The same mio who only appeared in season 2 in the new timeline 💀
Like darkwick really dont give a fuck about that girl's safety for even humoring the idea of putting her in that dorm. And yes they did send some cats for repairs but that was in the first few months and after that their general hospital needed repairs so they stop working on her dorm and after that absolutely nothing, at no point in time did they think to actually go back and check if she's living in a safe environment.
If they wanted to treat her like a freak they might as well have gone all the way and actually let her stay in obscuary,
''b-but obscuary is only for non human ghouls 🥺 it'd go against the rwules 🥺🥺''
Oh but making her stay in that dumpster is a better idea?
Honestly they could've made her stay in any dorm and still do her inspector work but darkwick couldn't be bothered to actually care about the safety of someone they know will ''die'', they've only ever seen her as a soon to be anomaly and how they could use her to learn more about the kyklos. Because if they actually saw her as a human, they'd treat her as one.
yandere!bully: he wasn't your bully, not at first. You guys only ever got to know each other because your dad was his dad's employee. Such a circumstance—and a few others—granted you the honor of becoming one of the conglomerate's financial-aid scholars. Another charity case to help polish the company reputation.
You attend the same private academy he does. He tried not to care too much at first; you were just among the few others lucky enough to have the kind of intelligence eyed by his father's company. But that was the thing—you didn't. You were ordinary.
He wondered if his father made a mistake, choosing to sponsor some no-use nobody. Maybe you were a coal in the rough yet to be a diamond. But weeks into the first year of senior high and you showed no signs of blooming. Hell, you even placed at the bottom list in academic standing. You didn't fail; everyone else were just children of the wealthy who afforded private tutors. Maybe an appropriate scholar would have caught up just fine, but you weren't one.
yandere!bully who decides to approach you, frustrated with your mediocrity. Who is he kidding? He doesn't give two shits if his father made a mistake, he was fascinated with your mediocrity. Greatness no longer intrigues him, having been surrounded with it all his life.
Wow, is this a joke? You really aren't good at anything. Not at math, science, Latin, nada. You just do enough to get by.
He speaks to you about it, about that mediocrity. You interpret it as a threat. You can't lose this scholarship now, you just got it. You beg for his mercy that you may continue studying in this prestigious academy. The whole "I'll do anything!" "anything?" conversation ensues. Now he's got you in the palm of his hand.
yandere!bully who starts it small. Makes you his little errand puppy. To him you were like a little dog running around doing what he makes you do. It can't even be called bullying, everyone else interprets it as acts of gratitude for his father granted the scholarship to you.
But then it escalates. Soon he's making you do things that you hesitate to do. Sneaking into faculty to take a picture of the test answer sheet. Smuggling a bag of "stuff" in school (you aren't dumb, you know what these rich kids got their hands on). Forcing you to skip a day of school so you can be his little errand pup while he did golf, playing truant with his friends.
One time you're asked to kneel before him, right between his knees. You ask why. He tells you not to question him. He only wants to see you that way. He watches you for a moment, unfazed, before telling you to stand back up.
Enter his friends, and things turn for the worse. It's like they've been itching their whole lives to get their hands on a human being to torment. They've got their butlers and maids but they're paid workers; you aren't. Clearly, yandere!bully is dangling this scholarship thing above your head like a golden apple. It's enough to keep you in your place, make you go against your own survival instinct to retaliate against a threat. They can do things to you and not suffer the consequences, and they intend to take full advantage of it.
It starts small, too, this torment by his inner circle, but soon it evolves more than just carrying their shopping bags or retrieving the tennis ball whenever they go play.
Soon they laugh when one of them extends a foot to trip you. They steal the math homework you worked hard on even though they've already completed theirs courtesy of their private tutors. Pour water over your head, pinch your skin for fun with their filed, polished nails.
They heard him call you "errand puppy" once, so they had a collar custom-made with his name on it next to the phrase property of, its buckle 18k gold, leather lined on the edge with lab-grown diamonds. Then they made you drink milk like a mutt out of the cafeteria's metal tray.
The boys cornered you in the locker room once, made you pull down your bottoms. You were crying while they took pictures of your underwear, wet snotty face too. They shared it to the girls and it circulated within their friend group for a while. The next time that those specific guys encountered you, though, they seemed to hold back from picking on you. No one ever made a comment about that incident, not about the photos, the crying, the cheap underwear, and they grew quieter when yandere!bully entered the room.
With his friends it's always physically violent; never with him. You would argue, though, that he is the cruelest. Because he's got the power to make them stop and he chooses not to. He just watches. You gather that he likes watching you a lot.
yandere!bully plays soccer; he's a varsity player of your academy. Every after training you're tasked to carry his school and sports bag back to his luxury sedan which he drives to and from campus. Tonight he makes you stand in front of the goal net. His friends are lined up some meters before you, having gathered all the soccer balls the academy owns.
You're nervous. You know what's about to happen and you should run, but you don't, because you think the scholarship is worth all this.
"Don't let them score and I'll extend your scholarship to college," is all the warning you get.
You're hit everywhere. The arms, shoulders legs, torso—everything hurts. One ball after the other to your head, and you feel dizzy. Of course, you try defending yourself; you yell at them to stop, that it hurts, and all you get is: "don't you want that scholarship?"
What made you cease is the blow to your chest. It's a strong hit, delivering a pain so hot you think it shifted your ribs, and you cough and wheeze and they're still throwing balls at you until your form is thrashing on the grass like fish on land.
Your head feels so hot and prickly from the lack of air, you're sure it's bound to explode. Black spots your vision and you literally can't breathe but all you can think of is: did I get that scholarship?
You're hospitalized that night. Bandages on all limbs, tapes to hold the cuts produced from the skin being hit too hard. Nasal cannula around your face.
You wake up slowly. There's a mildly comforting heat on your bandaged hand that vanishes the moment you open your eyes. yandere!bully is seated by your bed, watching you as always.
His hand touches your face. He murmurs something, but it's muffled by the bandages wrapped around your head, ears included. Then his thumb tenderly brushes over your busted lip.
Finally, he leaves the room, and you're left to stare at the ceiling.
Upon discharge, you don't hear anything about dues from the hospital—a big relief for you. No warnings from the academy either for having missed a week of school. You speculate he's got something to do with it for the sake of reputation. No one is supposed to know that the son of the chairman of such a conglomerate beat its scholar to death's door.
School is different after the incident. You're no longer abused as much by his peers, although you still do their various errands. He still makes you do naughty stuff, like skipping classes when he feels like it. Only this time it seems only he's around to do errands for.
These errands are different now, too. It's not the typical labor-heavy tasks like before, fetching for his tennis ball or carrying his bags. You're more like an actual pet puppy at this point; he just brings you around wherever he goes. Almost like he has to keep an eye on you at all times.
yandere!bully who finds himself missing you during the summer. Everyone left for their own respective vacations, out of the country to Maldives or Monaco or Switzerland or whatever. You're back with your relatives in that quaint little downtown neighborhood of yours. He would know, having hired private investigators to stalk your ass. He is going with his family to the countryside estate.
Father, mother, eldest sister, older brother. He's the youngest. It's a quiet family. Sister grew up just to be like father, cold and austere. It seems he's on the way to becoming just like that, too. Only brother inherited mother's benevolence.
Father doesn't care about anyone and anything but mother. yandere!bully only ever talks to Father whenever it's necessary. Otherwise, both of them are content minding one's own business.
yandere!bully asks Father about you. As he suspected, Father makes no mistake. He says you were really meant for the scholarship.
"I had a feeling," Father says, "that you two would make very good friends."
yandere!bully who's touchier now, second and final year of senior high. Or he's become touchy, since he never was back then. He drags you by your wrist at short distances, a palm on your nape whenever he tells you to look at something. A hand on your lower back, sliding dangerously low every time before letting go. He also often fixes your collar, fingers always ending up brushing your neck.
He tells you to strip one time at some high-end clothing store. You stare at him, dumbfounded, before he gives some silly excuse that it's for a cousin with your same build.
He makes you try on different outfits. At first it's various tops and bottoms that complement your shape, colors that go well with your skin tone, all the like. You glance at yourself in the mirror and wonder if this is how you look born into that top 1%. You look nice.
Then he makes you strip back to your underwear, and lets you try on the white [dress/blazer]. There's a moment of silence before he tells you to come over to him, and he stands up, towering over you with his gifted height.
He looks down at you, seemingly lost in thought, like he's visualizing you in a certain light...
"Do you like it?" He asks.
You tell him that you think his cousin will. His expression is undisturbed, but he exhales almost like a huff. Quite suddenly he grabs you by the waist, thumb gliding circles.
"I asked if you like it."
You stutter out a pathetic 'yes.' Honestly you don't give a damn but you fear his negative reaction your comment. Although if you had to, you'd say it's a bit too fancy for your liking.
He only hums before letting you go. You proceed to wear the next attire.
You shiver to think about how he views this certain cousin of his, having you wear a bunch of skimpy outfits. Some that showed your stomach too much, others exposing your legs. One top you're pretty sure can rival a tape going around your chest area, covering only what needs to be covered. He stays aloof the whole time, jaded eyes planted on you.
After that, things start to get kind of disgusting.
The touchiness escalates tenfold, and he isn't as insecure about it as you are, showing off to his friends. It's like the roles have switched: now he's the physical one instead of them. You're still a slave to their torment, of course, but only he gets to touch you like this. His friends don't find anything odd about it, in fact they look as if they enjoy your discomfort. They egg him on.
yandere!bully who brings you with him to a speakeasy, exclusive only for students of this certain private members club. The top one percent of the top one percent, they would say. It's like a den of iniquities, these kids doing all sorts of nefarious stuff: drugs, dealings, gambling, and most dreadful of all: whores.
Man or woman, they aren't obvious. You only know because they're distinguishable from the rich clients of the club who dress minimalistic. You suppose a more professional term for these people are escorts. They're conversing animatedly with their young clients, some linking their arms with them, a few already making their way to private rooms.
yandere!bully sits on the loveseat across his peer who's got two escorts in his arms. You only stand behind him, listening in on their conversation. Something about stocks and real estate. Networking. If he knew this, what he thinks about that.
You drone their voices out. The smell of weed is getting to you, making you feel all woozy.
yandere!bully tells you to sit on his lap. Dumbed down by the smoke, you comply a little too easily, like the puppy you are. His peer whistles lowly, eyeing you with a predatory glint.
He doesn't do anything about it because he knows they all can only afford to look. The truth is you belong to him, and only he gets to touch you this way, his hand now shamelessly gliding down your rear while you stay pliant. As long as you're after that scholarship, you belong to him.
He shifts you on his lap, his mouth feeling dry as he feels you press against him. You're really just asking for it, aren't you?
yandere!bully: he finds you in the library, when everyone else is in the school gym for graduation practice. This serves as your only safe haven from him, from his friends, from this whole aquarium filled with predatory fish. Oftentimes it feels like you're the only herbivore out there. The library happens to be the oldest part of this castle-turned-campus, which means: no CCTVs.
You scream when he pins you against the table, cut off halfway when he slams a palm on your mouth. The other hand encases both your wrists in one secure grip as his leg forces your knees apart, and he starts grinding against you like a dog in heat.
His eyes are half-lidded as he's watching you with his mouth parted, a sick grin forming. He thinks it's hot when you cry, if he knew this before he would have done better to get you to cry more often.
"Dumb puppy," he sneers, "dumb little errand pup, you're no good for anything at all, aren't you? Only at following your master and fetching balls."
Your panic discourages you from registering all the painful words he's saying, the names he's calling you. You try your best to escape his coil that only seems to get tighter the more you move like a boa constrictor. Arousal seems to give him inhumane strength.
Having had enough, he lifts you up momentarily, before slamming your back against the table, hard.
"Stop fucking moving, you stupid mutt!"
That does indeed get you to stop fucking moving. You even stop trying to scream, and stop... breathing? He pauses his ministrations and looks down at you. You're staring back at him, eyes wide, lips trembling. Then you start convulsing for air.
He doesn't know what to do, and for the first time in his life of luxury and wealth he's genuinely terrified. He's always seen you suffering, but this time, this time you're suffering and he can't put a stop to it. He can't control it.
You're grasping the sleeves of his uniform, still spasming. He gets the hint and aids you in sitting back upright on the table. He already has half the mind to pull out his phone and call emergency, but you're already breathing fine, trying to catch your breath.
Your hand moves to deeply rub the center of your chest.
Shit.
Was this... was this the soccer injury? Haven't you already recovered from that? The doctors said you'd heal eventually. The cuts, the deep bruises. Did you turn out to have an unattended rib fracture? Is this... chronic?
It's been almost a year since that incident.
Have you always had this pain, and kept it to yourself?
He's never felt this level of trepidation consume him, shaking him to the core. His heart is in his stomach as he looks at you, really looks at you, and sees the damaged he's done. You're tired. You're scared. You're miserable.
You are readmitted to the the same high-end hospital not long after. This time you're scheduled for surgery. He covers all the expenses, makes sure to get the best of the best of surgeons out there. You don't really have a say in the matter, you're not dumb enough to refuse such an offer just for the sake of your dignity. What left of it is there, anyway?
Father visits him during that period, noting the considerable dent in his son's bank account for that big of a purchase. He meets Father shortly after freshening up, having vomited at the thought of your broken countenance.
yandere!bully tells him everything except the attempted assault. Father only sits and listens, unnervingly silent, like he understands. It's the first time he's ever opened up to his dad. To his surprise, Father does not disappoint.
Likewise, Father also tells him everything. How, in this family, there is the tendency for some members to manifest passionate emotions in various ways. They feel so little they end up feeling so much for very specific things... sometimes persons. And they tend to be violent with it.
You were meant to be the recipient of this violence. Your father owed his father a great deal of debt, and so you were basically sold off, your purpose for him hidden under the ruse of scholarship. Not that you knew.
It all makes sense now, Father's devotion to Mother, and her aversion from him. His sister's fierce attachment to this one specific guy who also just so happens to be a scholar of the company. His feelings for you which he can't seem to make amends with.
"Once you find that someone," Father says, "you sink your claws into them and never let go, even when they bleed."
You're back to school in two weeks. Like back then, you didn't receive any disciplinary actions for your absence. You try not to wonder how you manage to keep your place as a scholar in this prestigious academy despite all the missed assignments on top of your already mediocre grades.
yandere!bully avoids you like the plague, and so do his friends. It seems everything went back to how it once was, how it was supposed to be. Everyone here ostracizes you for your socio-economic standing but it doesn't bother you at all, not when you prefer this over the active bullying.
The next time he interacts with you, it's already graduation. You're wearing the appropriate formal attire under your graduation robes, which you can guess is the cheapest out of everything in this venue where the school-sponsored grad party is being held. There's an afterparty held at some penthouse bar after this, hosted by one of yandere!bully's friends, but you aren't invited.
You exit the venue to begin the 20-minute walk back to your dorm, but someone stops you.
His hand is on your wrist. You get unpleasant flashbacks, but you keep it to yourself. He asks how you're doing, you say you're just fine.
He then asks if you want to celebrate this milestone.
No, you don't. Not with him. But you're not about to lose your diploma when you just got it.
So now you are in his Porsche and he's driving you both to one of his many family estates. It's smaller than most, he describes.
According to him at least. The whole thing is the size of your entire neighborhood. It's a long driveway before he even gets to arrive at the actual building. He parks right in front of the manor.
Inside, you're invited to have dinner with him. It's only the two of you in this large dining hall, where you're seated adjacent to him at the end of the grand table. But the selection of food nearly reaches down to half the long table, as if he had the chef cook every food that could possibly be your favorite.
Still, you end up eating light. He offers you to choose the brand of wine but you refuse, saying that it hasn't been long enough since your operation. A pause, before he nods, instead picking the wine himself.
Instead of alcohol you're served apple juice. It's freshly squeezed, you could tell by the bitter aftertaste.
Glass in hand, he leads you out of the manor and to the rose garden, where you can see the stars so clearly due to the lack of light pollution thanks to the vastness of his estate. There's a small pavilion housing a large couch. He leads you toward it, makes you sit.
You feel yourself deflate instantly on the cushion, exhausted from having your guard up around him at all times. If he noticed he didn't comment a thing about it. He's on his third glass and you're currently nursing the first glass of apple juice you're nearly finished with, when he calls out your name.
"Congratulations."
You congratulate him, too, since he also graduated.
He downs the rest of his wine in one go, sets it on the side table. Then he steps closer to you, fueled with liquid courage, sinking into the space next to you.
You try to sit up and scoot over. You can't.
"I was afraid for a moment," he starts, "that you wouldn't accept my invitation."
Afraid? He put you through hell, and only now has the gall to hesitate on you? A pit begins to form on your stomach.
He turns to you, taking your glass out of your hand and setting it down the ground, before holding that same hand with his own warmer one. He inches closer. You can't move.
You ask, "Would you have forced me to come anyway?"
He smiles at that. "You wouldn't have said no."
He's now hovering over you on the couch, same standoffish eyes tracing your face, your eyes, nose, settling on your mouth. You see his Adam's apple bob up and down.
He has so much to say to you. You look so pretty right now, basked in the moonlight, not fighting him. He's sorry for all the rough treatment, for hurting you and making you cry. He swears it's just his feelings for you manifested in the wrong manner. But now he knows, after his father explained everything it all makes sense. He's just in love with you.
yandere!bully kisses your trembling lips, tenderly. You try to fight it off but it's no use; you realized too late that he's done something to your drink. You're sobbing when he parts from you, terror and anger evident in your eyes. When he begins to pull off your clothes, he speaks.
"I would never do anything to hurt you." Your stomach churns in resentment. "Never again."
He kisses the column of your neck down to your chest, your surgical scars, where his lips stay longer. When he feels you're sort of hyperventilating, he rises and cups your cheek.
"Breathe. Breathe," he says your name. "Okay? Relax. I've got you. I promise I'll take care of you. You just have to breathe."
He rubs your chest. His own aches just at the thought of your distress. It's his fault you ended up like this, so he intends to make up for it for the rest of your lives.
He makes love to you that night. As promised, he did take care of you. It doesn't hurt when he slides it in, having poured a generous amount of lube all you feel is the pressure instead of the sting of his very well-endowed member intruding you. He's got a way with his hands, too, stimulating all the right parts just enough to get you unfolding beneath him within an hour. He would have done it within minutes but he took his sweet time just to get you so wet and ready for him.
He's so damn gentle with you like he was your lover for the last two years and not your bully. Of course, to you this wasn't 'making love.' For the most part you were delirious both from the drink and his expert ministrations, and are only hit with the the graveness of your reality when he finally spills his essence into you. His body quivers, and right then he pulls you for a deep, tongue-heavy kiss. When he pulls away, he mutters something in his frenzy: "I love you."
yandere!bully doesn't bother you after that. When he wakes up on that couch in the pavilion you're already gone. You left in a rush. A butler drove you off back outside of the estate, having received no orders to make you stay.
You've graduated. Your credentials will surely spark competition among universities for you, being a graduate from one of the most prestigious academies in the world. Still, you ask yourself if it was all worth it.
You aren't the same after those two years. You feel as if you've lost all purpose in life after that night. Like something valuable was stolen from you, and could never be returned. You don't want to keep going.
But reality will always dictate what you do. You can't afford to be like this because you're poor. Mental health doesn't exist to the poor, your father would insist. You've got bills to pay, mouths to feed. And you may be mediocre, but you're not dumb enough to seek justice against someone as powerful as your bully. You don't even have the money for that.
So you went on despite grievances to the next stage of your life: college. Countless scholarships from different sponsors. The same conglomerate that covered your senior high scholarship is offering you another full ride—living arrangements and all—to the country's number one university.
You refuse the offer this time. A thousand scholarships from that conglomerate isn't enough to repair the damage that's been done. Besides, you never want to encounter anything associated with him ever again.
Instead you accept to be sponsored by a different company; a smaller one (at least in comparison), but they covered your tuition of four years in the same prestigious university. Sure, no living arrangements, but that's more than what most sponsors give.
You enter the CEO's office, having been invited so she can get to know you more. There are two individuals in the room. She, and...
Your heart drops to your stomach.
The CEO introduces him to you, although there is no need for that. He's standing there in a tux, hair slicked back, jaded eyes glinting with mirth at the sight of you. It seems he's grown taller in the few months you haven't seen each other.
Apparently his dad's conglomerate is the parent company. How could you be so stupid?
Madame CEO excuses herself to take an important call, leaving you alone with him. He doesn't hesitate to walk closer, smiling as fondly as his austere face can manage.
"I missed you." He speaks, voice full of yearning. He takes your hand in his. "How are you after our shared night? Why did you leave so suddenly? Don't do that again, love."
Ripping your hand away, you asked why he was here. If he knew and orchestrated to have you accept this scholarship.
"I don't break my promises. I'd hate to start with you." He explains.
You demanded what he meant by that. He doesn't hide the fact that he's enjoying your turmoil, but you can't even find it in yourself to get it together this time.
"No one scored that night." He shrugs. "They were all so focused on hitting you."
...what?
"I promised you your college scholarship, remember?"
yandere!bully who follows you all the way to college.
"Bittersweet defeat --- I know you didn't mean it"
azure x reader
CW : cucking (kinda),Two Time has a crush on you, toxic creampie, toxins, sentinel!reader, blowjob (azure receiving) , revenge sex, nonverbal sex, fucked up reader, really fucked up reader. ooc azure, no dialogue, tentacle usage but not penetration, vaginal sex, mutal orgasm, taunting, not proof read, 1,1k
note : I wrote this while i was horny so if it doesn't match sense, that's why LMFAO. ALSO SORRRRY IM LATEEEE, IM A LIL DUMB
Azure, who comes to hate Two Time–no matter how much they fight against the distressing mind control. He can’t help but hate them
Azure, who finds out that Two Time WAS able to move on even despite the severity of their actions.
Azure, who becomes enraged knowing this information, even if the guilt kills Two Time inside the idea of them moving forward to potentially harm and sacrifice more people for their beneficial gain or building more power leaves a bad taste in his mouth.
Azure, who takes something from Two Time that they’ll never be able to get back.
Your body trembles under the gaze of Azure, his skin bursting with toxins as your head begins to swim in his presence, you can’t figure out how you found yourself in his position but you couldn’t really question it either. You knew who Azure was, you weren’t stupid—they were Two Time’s ex-partner thatttt Two Time kinda sorta..no definitely stabbed for a false cult but it was amazing to see him ALIVE. I mean, they’re not in the best shape if he’s forsakened but it’s another gift of life…I’m sure he’d never want to be around Two Time and hey, who could blame him after their history together.
Azure takes a fondness to your appearance as he skimmed over you. You definitely meant something to Two Time, and while the satisfaction of killing Two Time would bring him, he had a far far much better idea that could truly seal the deal. You were curious about what he was thinking or planning before you were completely taken off guard, you let a soft exclaim as Azure’s tentacles came up and slithered around your wrist. His tentacles tightly bonding them together as he used so he could have full control over you while he yanked you forward to be pressed against the clothed part of Azure’s pants.
Your face was burning from the humiliation of being a sentinel, a protector on their knees being manhandled by the killer, and also the fact they were in the middle of a round, in public–where anyone could view the scene. Your body trembled as you licked your lips that had gone dry, taking your lips and finding the zipper of their pants. Tugging their fly down painfully slowly white using your teeth. The freeing of his zipper only makes his bulge more prominent, this time his hands coming down to help free himself fully as his cock slapped against your face, it lays against your nose and lips while you can see the musk of him.
His cock is colored just like his body, black but his pre-cum drips a purplish-off white color, having no control over your hands–you have to use your mouth to the best of your ability. Guiding his cock into your mouth as it encases around it, they’re thick that causes a painful stretch as you slide his cock further down your throat.
Your brass knuckles you used for defense were stabbed into the grass as you looked forward before the sound of tearing rung throughout your ears, Azure opening your cunt to his hungry gaze as the cool air breezed over your dripping cunt. His hand crawled at your side, nails digging deep into the skin. As they used your ass as an anchor to spread you open to view more of your pussy.
His thick heavy cock stretching you out as you could do was take it, tentacles wrapped around your waist that stained your clothes and anchored you in place. Your legs spread further as you arched more into the ground to try and balance yourself, the feeling of rocks slightly popping you in the knees making your body ache.
But, you weren’t able to be hyper-focused on such matters as the toxin made your brain insanely hazy and the way your pussy clenched around him while he dug his fingers into your ass only fueled you to let out slutty moans as he fucked you, his hips snapping in a messy, franatic pace–moans, groans and whines filled the air alongside your embarrassingly wet pussy and the sound of skin slapping. The feeling of him inside you, the way he rubbed against the ribbed texture of your pussy while you could only gasp out and put your head down.
Your body was increasingly warm and sweaty as sweat dripped down your sides in small drops. Azure’s hand came around and grabbed the necklace Two Time gave you, his hands wrapping around the spawn charm as a loud snap was heard as he yanked it off, his other hand yanking your head back by your hair as one of his tentacles dangled it over your head while he pounded into you, fucking into you in various deep thrust that slammed against your cervix as you mewled out, trying to grip at anything while he fucked you.
Azure shoved his cock fully inside as he grinded against your ass, drawing his hips out before slamming forward repeatedly as the wet slaps got louder and louder, your back and thighs trembling from the position while staring at the necklace, you were essentially betraying your friend but it wasn’t that bad, right?
You couldn’t bear to think about it when your pussy was getting pounded so hard that you felt like your ears were ringing, it only took one particular thrust as he brushed across your g-spot for you to cum.
Your body locking up as you attempt to squirm while they only holds you tighter with his tentacles, his cock still pounding into your cock as he slipped out in one fluent movement to pump his cum against the opening of your cunt as it dripped onto the grass below.
Azure fully let you go as you dropped the ground, dropping the necklace right on top of your head as you felt your body begin to slowly give out…..at least, he didn’t hate you?
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