
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12876438.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      モブサイコ100_|_Mob_Psycho_100
  Relationship:
      Kageyama_"Mob"_Shigeo/Reigen_Arataka
  Character:
      Kageyama_"Mob"_Shigeo, Reigen_Arataka
  Additional Tags:
      ageswap, Blackmail, Manipulation, Contracts, Misuse_of_Psychic_Powers,
      predatory_shigeo, Technical_Prostitution, even_more_delicious_filth_to
      come
  Series:
      Part 2 of Me_and_Mr._Wolf
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-12-01 Chapters: 1/? Words: 2106
****** Dog Bites Boy ******
by cliscia
Summary
     //As you're pretty, so be wise, wolves may lurk in every guise//
     Reigen takes Mob up on his offer. It's not like he has a choice,
     anyway. Sequel to me and mr wolf that has spiraled out of control
     just like Reigen's life.
Notes
     Written as a direct sequel to me and mr wolf by ayane (dividedheart).
     I cannot thank her enough for the brilliant, devious world she
     created for poor baby Reigen. A single fic has now turned into a
     twisted and complex AU that neither of us can stop, it is completely
     out of our hands at this point. My take on the AU differs just
     slightly but the timeline remains the same. Picks up 2 weeks after
     the end of me and mr wolf.
     Also shout-out to all of my film studies pals who caught the title
     reference. Enjoy.
See the end of the work for more notes
Lead snapping, papers rustling.
Tap tap tap 
Teacher droning, students zoning. 
Tap tap tap 
Clock ticking, chairs scraping. The world passing by. 
Tap tap tap 
Tap tap tap tap 
Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap 
The sole of his sneakers bounced furiously against the linoleum floor. His desk
rattled with the rhythmic disturbance. Watchful eyes dart to the hour hand of
the clock. 
Tick tick……..tick 
Painfully slow. Sweat began to build at the back of his neck, seeping into the
warm black cotton of his gakuran. His eyes darted from the clock to the door,
itching, waiting to be released. Short nails dug into the wood of his small
table, gripping so hard that the desk itself felt as if it could splinter under
the weight of his anxiety alone. 
Ding!
Floodgates: open. 
Teacher yells and students chatter. Listen up, important news, don’t leave just
yet. In one ear and out the other. A mad dash for the doors, ready for the
freedom of lunch. 
Reigen leaves first. His body is out the door before his peers can even begin
to pack their bags. His heart pounds heavy in his chest as he makes his way
briskly down the hall to the bathroom, careful not to rush. Don’t want to bring
attention. Don’t look, nobody look. Stay away. Isolation. 
The metal handle hits the wall with a harsh clang as he slams the door open,
rushing to the sink. A sharp heave of his stomach and he spits up clear and
empty bile into the basin, his blunt, short fingernails struggling to keep hold
of the slippery porcelain, wishing for wood. Reigen coughs and bits of spit and
stomach acid drip from his mouth into the white bowl. Small beads of sweat form
on his forehead as he looks up to his reflection. 
He doesn’t recognize the eyes looking back at him. 
He squeezes his eyes and shudders, hunching over the sink, careful to make sure
that there is no more sickness to expel before straightening and grabbing a
paper towel from the dispenser. It tears out easily and he sighs, wiping his
mouth and balling the paper up before tossing it in the trash. He repeats the
process, this time wetting the paper before scrubbing his face with the wet rag
before disposal. It hits the rim of the bin and he leaves it there on the
ground, waiting to be swept away. 
I want you. 
The urge to be sick resurfaces but Reigen stuffs it back down. He knows there’s
nothing left to vomit up but still feels guilty as his throat faintly stings
from the now-accustomed sensation of acid burning through. God. What’s happened
to him. The world itself feels unfamiliar. Navigation used to be easy, now he
questions every move he used to make without thought. A sailor without a map.
No compass, sinking ship. 
Reigen turns on the tap and cups his hands, watching his palms fill with water
before lifting them to splash his face. Little droplets coagulate and fall from
his flaxen hair, making small trails down his nose and chin. He shakes his
head, wetting the mirror, and breathes deep and long, gathering the courage to
make eye contact with his reflection. 
There are dark circles under his eyes and his skin is splotchy, paler than he’s
used to seeing. Sleep has been hard to come by and has seemed to be happening
at the worst of times. He’s lucky if he can manage a few minutes in class
without his teachers snapping him back to attention, the sound of laughter from
his classmates like individual pinpricks on his skin. He can’t stand their eyes
on him. He’s sure they can see right through him.
They know, they know.
Murmurs drift from under the bathroom door and Reigen forces himself to regain
his composure as a pair of underclassmen enter. They pay him no mind and he is
grateful for their indifference as they chatter together at the urinals. He
slips out the door without a word and steels himself, anticipating the outside
world. 
The lunchroom is filled to the brim with youthful bodies and minds as his
classmates socialize over their food. A setting so familiar to him has now
become alien. This used to be his domain; the realm of conversation. 
Reigen slides in silently behind the back of the line where students wait
eagerly for their meal, staring at where the white rubber of his sneakers
blends into the ground. He has enough pocket money to buy lunch today instead
of stealing bites off of his friends’ plates. Another thing he is grateful for.
He’ll take any relief he can get these days. 
“Arataka! Where have you been? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, are
you still alive? Do you want to hang out with us after school? We’re thinking
about going to the arcade.”
Reigen smiles, a laugh. Armor. 
“Sorry guys, I’ve just been super sick lately. I’ll catch up with you next
week, alright? I don’t want to get anyone else sick, it really sucks. I have
some homework to catch up on anyway so I’ll see you around.” 
Quarantine. 
He sits by himself and stares dully down at the plate in front of him. The food
that rest there churns his stomach. Still, he forces himself to take slow and
careful bites of rice, keeping clear of the curry, already knowing he won’t be
able to keep it down. Chewing takes a concentrated effort and he opens his bag
to take out his English textbook. Perhaps a distraction will help. Reigen had
always enjoyed English. 
They’re learning about intensive pronouns now and he feels a bit lost but
welcomes the challenge, flipping through the pages and trying not to drop
anything onto his book as he eats with his left hand. He’s about three chapters
ahead of the class now, the work keeping him busy and occupied, drawing upon
his talents of debate and communication, focusing on whatever could tame his
mind from wandering into dangerous, dark territory. 
There’s a written response section and Reigen sets his chopsticks down to reach
into his bag before he pauses. 
“......Arataka-san....” 
Frozen, cold as ice. 
His ears perk and his blood runs cold as he narrows in on the words he’d
thought he’d heard. There’s a table of girls sitting next to him and they
giggle as he looks their way. 
“Do you think he heard us?” They ask, lips hidden behind secretive hands
veiling red cheeks and bashful eyes. 
A rush of emotions immediately assaults him, drowning out his rational mind and
making his ears ring with anger and blind hysteria fueled by creeping
paranoia. 
Stop looking at me!

“Shut up!” He screams, slamming his hands to the table as he leaps up, milk
spilling over his textbook with the force of his dismay. 
The girls immediately freeze and look back at him with wide eyes, fear on their
faces. He hates it. It makes him angrier. He wants to cry. He throws his
textbook and lunges. 
“Shut up! Shut the fuck up, you don’t know anything, shut up!!” 
Everything after that is a blur. He remembers the girls screaming and his
friends jumping to his aid, restraining him before the teachers arrived at the
scene, but nothing else afterwards, mind completely blank. “Yui just thought
you were cute, what’s gotten into you lately?” 
Detention.
 
===============================================================================
 
The strap of his bookbag digs into his shoulder and Reigen shifts it to the
other side, watching pebbles launch and bounce away from his feet as he scuffs
his dirty white sneakers against the sidewalk. He sniffs and rubs the back of
his hand against his nose, feeling positively sorry for himself, not used to
walking home this late. 
This time, he’d fucked up on his own, and he knew it. He wondered briefly if
his mother would be angry with him. A part of him secretly wished she would,
but he knew that she’d be too tired to deal with her unruly son. Well, at least
that was normal. He wouldn’t tell her about the girls unless he had to. Better
to tweak the truth than cause unnecessary worry. Funny.
Reigen looked to the sky, gray with autumn gloom. Would Mom be home tonight? It
was a Wednesday so she might be at work. What would he make for dinner? If she
wasn’t home, he wouldn’t have to worry and could just pull the blankets over
himself and go to bed. Otherwise there would be nagging, and he really didn’t
want to upset her. She’d already been bothering him about his recent lack of
appetite. 
The sound of tires against gravel crackled behind him and he turned his head
over his shoulder to check the disturbance. A black Mitsubishi droned along the
sidewalk edge, passing by the buildings that lined the block. It was strange to
see a car so unspoiled in this neighborhood, without a scratch or ding on it.
Didn’t seem like whoever owned it got out much.
Maybe his mother would bring home dinner, that would be best. Reigen had come
to love the food from the restaurant she worked at; even the tempura was good.
Hopefully it would be left-over takoyaki instead though. It would be easy
enough to scarf down before excusing himself to his room. He wondered if she
thought he was studying instead of lying in bed running memories over and over
like a film reel in his head before finally falling asleep. Another pang of
guilt flitted briefly through his stomach. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling.
The steady thrum of crunching gravel grew stronger, snapping Reigen out of his
stewing brood. Another turn of his head and he frowned, noting the decreasing
distance between himself and the car that had been slowly making its way down
the street behind him. It didn’t help his paranoia in the slightest and he
tightened his grip on his bookbag, quickening his pace, mind immediately
jumping to unwanted thoughts.
It’s just in your head he repeated to himself, eyes focused on the sidewalk in
front of him, the roof of his apartment complex finally coming into view over
the canopy of buildings in front of him. His heartbeat slowed with the relief
of familiarity. He was safe, he would be alright, everything was okay
everything had been okay it had just been in his head nothing was wrong
everything would be okay.
The car was drifting next to him.
Nothing registered within his mind other than: 
Run.
His feet pounded as fast as his heartbeat against the sidewalk as he ran, blind
terror rushing through his veins and flooding his mind, vision blurry yet
incredibly sharp, focused only on his apartment rising up above the rooftops,
close enough that he could see his bedroom window. 
Panic licked at his heels as he sprinted as fast as he could. In the back of
his mind, he realized what a fool he was. This had all been his fault, his
stupid decision that had ruined everything, flipped his world upside down. What
a joke he must look like now, flying down the street like his life depended on
it. He bet he could win the team race all on his own at his school’s sports
festival this year if he ran like he did now. 
Please, please, please, please 
He could see the final block. 
And his feet stopped.
Hazy calm washed over him and Reigen immediately came to a standstill on the
edge of the road. It didn’t matter anymore, really. It was all in his head,
right? He didn’t have anything to fear. Suddenly, everything made sense. Peace
filled his heart for the first time in two weeks and Reigen distantly realized
he was turning. Ah. 
Something seemed to be tugging at his sleeves. A faint wind, ushering him,
beckoning him closer. He trusted it. The car door opened. The wind wrapped
around him, capturing him, guarding him, lulling him inside, and he complied,
stepping into the vehicle as the door closed behind him, lock clicking shut.
Serene, calm, peaceful, no more worries, no more fear.
The seatbelt dug into his shoulder blade as he was pressed firm against the
corner of the window and the interior. The fabric of his uniform slid
compliantly against leather upholstery as a warm and imposing body pushed him
back hard against the seat, a large hand holding his wrist tight as the other
cupped his cheek, thumb ghosting across his bottom lip. Hunger in black eyes.
“I missed you, Arataka.”
 
End Notes
     So excited to finally get writing for MP100, feedback is encouraged
     as I get to the next chapter~ Look out for ayane's own sequel as
     well.
     And please follow me on twitter if you enjoy a fine glass of Mob
     filth at all hours of the day @cliscia0
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