imnotabot28

[imnotabot28]

Yandere! Older! Boyfriend x pregnant! Reader

Warning: mention of locking up , pregnancy, abuse.

Authors note: it's been a while I wrote something hope you would like it.

__________________________________________

It's been days even months since he had let you out oyou have seen another human... There is no one beside you two he had started to spend too much time with you now that you are pregnant....But then again ....

You looked at the end of the mattress where you had hidden a note written to for help , to give to any person you meet. But what you didn't knew was it was already misplaced....

It started with his silence.

He still brought you breakfast. Still kissed your swollen belly. Still massaged your ankles with warm oils at night.

But something was off.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes anymore.

When you asked, “Is something wrong?”, he only said:

“Of course not, sweetheart. You’ve never looked more beautiful.”

But the tray that morning was… different. Your favorite bun had been swapped for something plain. Her vitamin pack was missing one pill.

Small things. Intentional things.

You sat up in bed, belly heavy, fingers trembling slightly.

You checked under the mattress.

The note was gone.

You looked around the room. The cameras. The mirror. Your reflection looked too pale.

He entered moments later with a blanket.

“You were shivering last night,” he said calmly. “I don’t want the baby getting cold.”

You nodded quietly.

He kissed your forehead and tucked the blankt around you with careful, practiced hands. Then stood there… watching her. Too long.

“You don’t need to worry about anything anymore,” he said, brushing his knuckles down your cheek.

“I’ll take care of everything. Even the things you try to keep from me.”

That night, the room was darker. Colder.

He didn’t sleep beside you. Just sat in the chair by the empty crib. Watching you. All night.

The note was gone.

She didn’t know when he read the note.

She didn’t know what he’d do about it.

But the worst part?

He wasn’t angry.

He was patient.

And that meant… something far worse was coming.

And that’s what makes it worse.

And now—every second felt like walking barefoot on glass.

You sat on the bed, hands folded over your belly, eyes nervously flicking toward the door. He had been in the kitchen too long.

He finally walked in—quiet, composed, barefoot like always. He set a mug of warm milk on the bedside table. You flinched when the ceramic touched wood.

But his smile was warm.

Too warm.

“Still not feeling well?” he asked, voice low, smooth.

She nodded quickly. “Just tired… a bit dizzy, maybe. I think it’s the pregnancy.”

“Mm. Could be…”

He walked closer, steps slow. Calculated.

“…or maybe it’s guilt.”

Your throat tightened. Your eyes lifted to his��and immediately wished they hadn’t.

That smile.

Sharp. Bright. Crooked.

Like a fox who found its prey limping and knew it wouldn’t have to chase.

You tried. Softly. Carefully.

“Love… I—I’m really grateful. For everything you’re doing. You take such good care of me and the baby.”

He didn’t answer.

So you forced a smile, trembling. “You’re the only one I can rely on…”

Still, silence.

And then, finally, he spoke.

“Y/N…”

“Can I rest my head on your lap?”

You blinked. “…Huh?”

He stepped forward, kneeling beside the bed, folding his long arms over the edge.

“Just for a little while. I’ve been thinking too much.”

His eyes flicked up—dark, unreadable.

“It’d calm me down. You want that, don’t you?”

You nodded too fast.

“Yes—yes, of course…”

He laid his head on her lap, gently, slowly. His hair soft against her thighs.

You hesitated, then shakily brushed your fingers through it. Like a trembling hand over a coiled beast.

He sighed—low, satisfied.

And then whispered:

“You wrote it with such pretty handwriting.”

Her heart stopped.

“But next time, bunny… just tell me.”

“You don’t ever need to hide anything. I’ll always find it anyway.”

©️ Littlephoenix 2025 , do not plagiarize, distribute to other sites or translate any of my work , or ideas without my permission it's strictly prohibited.

[imnotabot28]

— satoru x reader ♡

"What do you think about this one?"

"Very pretty, baby."

"Ugh, Toru, you said that about the last three."

"s'not my fault you're so pretty," Satoru stated as if it were fact, crossing his ankle over his knee as he leaned back in the awkwardly shaped bench. High-end stores had a terrible habit of procuring the worst seating.

"This is important," you stressed. "And expensive if I get the wrong one."

"I'd just buy you another one."

"Satoru."

"Okay, okay," he relented, kicking up from the terrible bench and capturing your face in his big hands. "Why're you so stressed about this, huh?"

"That's such a stupid question. I'm meeting your family. What if they hate me?"

Satoru cocked his head to the side, the ghost of a smile lingering on his face. He released your face in favor of your hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss the ring glittering there.

"I already put a ring on it. What can they do?" he almost taunted. "This is more of a formality, sweetheart. An excuse to show you off and get them to stop calling."

"I should have met them sooner," you huffed, face flushed and defeated.

This was the Gojo Clan. And you were just... well, you.

"Nah," Satoru brushed off, taking your cheeks in his palms once more. He touched his forehead to yours. "I wanted to keep you to myself for as long as possible. You're mine."

And then, just when the air felt a bit too heavy, Satoru peppered your face in dozens of kisses, only drawing you forward the more you squirmed away.

"Toru, this is a store. Stop it. Stop it!" you laughed.

"Um, are you two finding anything to your liking?" you heard over your shoulder, the meek salesgirl definitely uncomfortable as Satoru didn't even acknowledge her.

His eyes were still glued to you as he replied, "Oh, definitely."

[imnotabot28]

♡ TW. Dead Dove // Read at Your Own Risk ; ♡ WC. 1,266

The first time he kissed her in front of you, Gojo didn’t even watch your face.

He already knew what it looked like.

Still. When his tongue slid into the pretty little slut's mouth, his eyes dragged slow across the room, past his squadmates' laughter, right to you. Just like always. Just like everything.

And just like always, you stood still. Back straight. Head down. Watching.

Watching everything, but seeing nothing.

His hand on the girl’s neck tightened. The other slid lower, cupping her ass and drawing a breathy moan from her lips, which he ignored completely. Because you weren’t moving. Not flinching. Not frowning. Not even blinking.

He was going to kill her.

Not for kissing him. Not for being easy. He liked easy. But because the whole point was to show you something. To make you feel something. And the thing was, you did feel things. He knew you did. They just didn’t move you.

He’d cut her up later. He’d make you clean it.

✦✧✦✧

He waited.

Waited for the twitch in your lips. The tremble in your eyes. The stupid, fragile outburst he could use to pin you against the wall and say See? You do care.

It never came.

All that came was your quiet voice: "Are we going home now, Satoru?"

He smiled at the girl. She looked dazed. He kissed her forehead like it meant something, then let her go. "Yeah. We are."

✦✧✦✧

The way you walked behind him. It made him insane.

Like you were being led. Like a dog, like a doll, like a thing he owned. And it should've satisfied him. It should have, he told himself. But the silent obedience just... rotted in him.

You never argued. Never cried. Never asked for anything. When he told you to strip, you did it. When he tied you down and made you scream, you took it. When he humiliated you in front of others, you bowed your head and let them laugh.

"You’re disgusting," he told you once.

You blinked slowly. "Yes."

He almost lost it then. Almost hit you. Not out of anger. Out of desperation. He wanted to see you fight back. Break. Bite him. Need him.

But you just looked at him. Small, blank, lips parted, waiting for instruction.

✦✧✦✧

Tonight, he made it worse.

He laid you on the table. Not the bed. You didn’t deserve the bed. He tied your wrists above your head, snapped the rope hard enough to burn your skin. He let the marks show. He wanted them to show.

"Look at that," he purred, dragging his fingers down your chest, your ribs, your stomach. "Not even trembling. What, you like this?"

"I don’t dislike it," you answered, like you always did. Like it was logical.

He leaned down, mouth brushing your throat. "Stupid little doll. You know I could replace you in a second? I could snap my fingers and have ten prettier, better ones crawling to my feet."

"Okay."

His teeth sank into your neck. Hard. You jerked, gasped, breath catching—and he smiled. Because pain still made you react. Pain still belonged to him.

"You’re so pretty like this. All ruined. All quiet."

He dragged the blindfold over your eyes. Not for your sake. For his. Because your expression drove him mad.

Too calm. Too accepting. It was like fucking a corpse sometimes. A pretty, wet, obedient corpse.

But he needed it worse because of that. Needed to hear the broken moans forced from your throat. The hiccuped breaths when he split you open on his cock, slow and hard, grinding against every resistance in your soft, pliant body until you cried out without meaning to.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t have to. The smack of skin on skin, the creak of the table, the lewd, wet sounds echoing through the room said enough. Said everything.

You gasped when he grabbed your hair and pulled. He leaned down to whisper in your ear.

"I bet you’re imagining someone else, huh? Someone kinder. Someone sweeter. You dumb little slut. You’d spread your legs for a murderer if he smiled at you right."

You didn’t answer. Not even a twitch.

His hand came down on your ass so hard the slap rang through the room.

"Say thank you."

"...Thank you."

"Say it like you mean it."

"Thank you, Satoru."

He pulled out, flipped you over, and forced you face-down against the table. Your arms were still tied, helpless, legs trembling, cunt dripping onto the edge like you liked it.

He hated how much you took.

"You’re nothing without me," he said. "You think anyone else would want you like this? Broken. Stupid. Quiet. You can’t even look me in the eye when I’m fucking you."

You whimpered when he shoved back in. It wasn’t a noise of protest. It was a reaction. A real one. He closed his eyes, felt it, chased it.

"This pussy's the only thing you have. You know that? It’s the only reason I keep you. I could dump you on the street, and you wouldn’t even fight me."

He reached down, gripped your throat, and pulled you up so your back arched against him.

"Why don’t you fight me, huh?"

"You don’t want me to."

It floored him.

It floored him.

He let go. Dropped you. Pushed deeper, harder, brutal now. A punishment. He wrapped a belt around your neck and yanked. You choked. Twitched. He watched your back rise and fall like a dying thing.

Then he stopped. Froze.

Because he knew something else.

You wouldn’t leave.

Even if he let you go. Even if he told you to. Even if he burned the house down and kicked you into the street, you would just stand there. Quiet. Beautiful. Obedient.

Waiting to be told what to do next.

✦✧✦✧

He cleaned you roughly. Dragged you to the bath. Sat in the water with you on his lap, limp and marked and silent.

You didn’t even avoid his eyes. You didn’t have to. You just... existed. And let him wrap his arms around you like a fucking psycho.

"You don’t love me, do you."

Your voice was soft. "No."

He wanted to drown you.

He wanted to fuck you until you broke. Break your legs so you couldn’t run. Break your mind so you couldn’t think.

He kissed your cheek.

"I’ll make you love me."

You leaned your head on his shoulder. Not affectionate. Not cold. Just resting.

"Okay."

His nails sank into your thigh.

✦✧✦✧

The next night, he brought home another girl.

Taller. Louder. Softer. The kind that giggled and played with her hair and looked at him like he was god.

He fucked her with the door open.

Loud. Violent. Knowing you could hear it.

When he came out, you were still at the table. Sitting. Back straight. Eyes on the book he gave you earlier, spine uncracked.

He wiped the blood off his hands.

"Did you hear all that?"

"Yes."

"Did it bother you?"

You looked up at him. Innocent. Void.

"No."

He laughed.

It was a fucked-up, loud, ugly sound.

"I’ll kill her later."

"Okay."

His smile vanished.

He grabbed your face, kissed you like a man starved, dragged you into the bedroom and fucked you like a weapon.

You were sobbing by the end. Ruined. Messy. But your eyes weren’t afraid. Weren’t desperate. Just tired.

"You’re mine," he whispered. "Say it."

"I’m yours."

"You love me."

"I don’t."

He bit your shoulder so hard it bled.

He wanted you to scream. Beg. Plead.

But instead—

You held him tighter.

And that broke him.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Official TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”: @save4h , @rofkshinee , @songbirdgardensworld , @yanderedrabbles , @xileonaaaa , @neuvilletteswife4ever , @poopooindamouf , @imnotabot28 , @loserworld , @esthelily

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World.

♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.

♡ Notice #1. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution

♡ Book 6 [you are here]. The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood.

♡ Notice #2. This masterlist is strictly for non-con smut and serves as an exercise in refining erotic horror writing. Comments that reduce my work to mere sexual gratification, thirst, or casual simping will not be tolerated. If your response is primarily thirst-driven, keep it to yourself—repeated violations may result in blocking. Read the RULES before engaging. The tag list is reserved for followers I trust to respect my boundaries; being included is a privilege, not a right. You may request to be added, but I will decide based on trust and adherence to my guidelines. I also reserve the right to remove anyone at any time if their engagement becomes inappropriate.

♡ Book 7. Corpus Delicti (CD): Donum Mortis.

♡ Book 8. Malum Consilium (MC): Primordial Hunger.

[imnotabot28]

things im always gonna script

୭ ⋆˚ ꩜｡ healthy relationship with ur s/o

✷ you match each other's freak

✷ when they laugh at a joke, && you're in a group, they automatically turn to look at you

✷ good hygiene

✷ emotional intelligence

✷ communication skills

✷ they can find da clit

✷ you share core values

✷ you balance each other out

✷ they match you in the areas where you lack ; (ex. if you dont have a great sense of direction, they know where to go– && far deeper than that, but thats the first thing i thought of for some reason)

✷ they think you're prettyyy :)

✷ a healthy attachment style

✷ you place importance on similar goals (ex. you're both career motivated) ; or at least respect one another's personal interest

✷ people expect you to show up places together ; you're a package deal ("wait, where's y/n?")

✷ mutual trust

✷ mutual sense of respect

✷ you take each other seriously

✷ same sense of humor

✷ sharing hobbies && interests (reading, sports, a certain tv show, etc)

✷ understanding each other's boundaries

✷ you admire each other as people and want to become more like one another ; it's inevitable that in a relationship, you'll take qualities from them, && so they better be good ones

✷ if you accidentally hurt their feelings, they let you know && you can apologize

✷ no codependency (unless u a freak, && in that case, make sure it's mutually desired)

[imnotabot28]

: : S / O E X T R A S.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝓽hey’re fluent in all 5 love languages when it comes to you, but especially yours.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝓽heir eyes soften every time they look at you, like the world stops spinning for a moment.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝔂ou often catch them staring at you like you’re a work of art they’ve never seen before.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝔀hen you speak, they don’t just listen. They study you; your lips, your hands, the sparkle in your eyes.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝓮ven in a room full of people, they only seem to see you. You’re their focal point, always.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝓽hey’re incredibly emotionally intelligent and grounded. They never gaslight, dismiss, or ignore your feelings.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝓲f someone disrespects you, their voice drops a full octave and they’ll check that person on sight.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝔀hen someone mentions you, their face lights up. your name tastes like sweetness on their tongue.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝔀hen you’re overwhelmed, they know how to make you feel safe without making you feel weak. they see the strength in your softness.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝓽hey physically can’t go a day without touching you in some way; hand-holding, forehead kisses, protective arms wrapped around your waist from behind. (In a way where you're comfortable of course.)

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝔂ou always feel emotionally held with them, like the world can fall apart, but not them. not with you.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝔂ou can talk for hours about everything and nothing. It never gets boring with them.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝔂our emotions are sacred to them. they never try to “fix” you, just hold space and hold you.

[imnotabot28]

: : S / O E X T R A S.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝓽hey’re fluent in all 5 love languages when it comes to you, but especially yours.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝓽heir eyes soften every time they look at you, like the world stops spinning for a moment.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝔂ou often catch them staring at you like you’re a work of art they’ve never seen before.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝔀hen you speak, they don’t just listen. They study you; your lips, your hands, the sparkle in your eyes.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝓮ven in a room full of people, they only seem to see you. You’re their focal point, always.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝓽hey’re incredibly emotionally intelligent and grounded. They never gaslight, dismiss, or ignore your feelings.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝓲f someone disrespects you, their voice drops a full octave and they’ll check that person on sight.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝔀hen someone mentions you, their face lights up. your name tastes like sweetness on their tongue.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝔀hen you’re overwhelmed, they know how to make you feel safe without making you feel weak. they see the strength in your softness.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝓽hey physically can’t go a day without touching you in some way; hand-holding, forehead kisses, protective arms wrapped around your waist from behind. (In a way where you're comfortable of course.)

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝔂ou always feel emotionally held with them, like the world can fall apart, but not them. not with you.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝔂ou can talk for hours about everything and nothing. It never gets boring with them.

꒰ 𐙚 ꒱ 𝔂our emotions are sacred to them. they never try to “fix” you, just hold space and hold you.

[imnotabot28]

what will pyrok do if his children or darling getting hurt because of him (his evil plans for the future has this coming too)

and will he be a loving father or he's only breeding

Yandere!Alien KillerClown x Fem reader

Tw: suggested Fluff, pregnant reader, mentions of gore, death, curses, home invasion, angst, kidnapping,

Synopsis: You and your cursed alien mate, Pyrok have a couple buns in the oven, and everything was absolutely perfect… Too perfect. Sometimes the greatest of fortunes can bring misery in an instant.

◣────•~❉᯽❉~•────◢

Who knew the ominous doll you bought from the antique store would end up becoming your doting alien lover?

Sure, there was a rough patch between you two coexisting under the same roof at first. But surprisingly, the relationship blossomed into a pleasant cushy lifestyle.

Contrary to his primal instincts and lack of emotional intelligence. The killer alien clown was more than willing to learn how to care for you. Especially since he deducted how humans were fragile than most species.

As the weeks went by, the bond mark he inscribed upon you during your first meeting grew. Giving him the freedom to fully embrace you, protect you, fuck you with his feelers and appendages till you passed out. Within his still imperfect original form.

You certainly didn’t expect to be carrying his brood either but you didn’t mind it one bit. Love was a foreign concept to him but through actions alone you knew he cherished you deeply.

Those high pitched chatters of his teeth, and the peculiar heart masks he wore. Were signs of deep affection and vulnerability from his species of World Devourers. W.D. For short.

Half an hour before the home invasion, You two had been cuddling as he fretted over y’all’s precious horde. Rubbing his cheek against your belly clicking and chittering. Trying to calm his babies that were making a ruckus within you, so you’d be in less discomfort.

That was until something caught his attention you noticed the inscription start to faintly glow. You knew this meant one thing, the croon who had cursed him was near.

Oddly enough you found the clown alien hesitant. This was his chance to free his body entirely from the curse of being a automated doll.

All Pyrok had to do was locate and kill the croon but he didn’t want to leave you.

Not when his little mate was so vulnerable, and warm. Not when for the first time, in the entirety of his existence, he felt satiated. With no desire to mindlessly devour planets, like he used to before he met you, the one who made him feel whole.

However, You saw that while he was doing fine, the curse still had a weakening effect on him. It pained you to see him succumb to the randomly triggered phantom hunger pangs.

The curse prevented him from feasting, using the masks he adorns to show his emotions. It turns them into his prison, melting them upon his face. Leaving him without a mouth, to even scream.

The alien clown would always hide away within the box you brought him in, morphed in his small doll form. He didn’t want to show his weakness better yet invoke any worry from you. Whenever the curse took ahold.

So you knew what he needed to do, and urged him to go and come back home to you and y’all’s growing family. You told him that you’d be waiting for him safe and sound.

The clown alien made you promise, that you’d be secured within your apartment that he recognized as y’all’s love nest. Using the silly human pinky promise you taught him once before.

Once he was sure your vitals were stable he then left out the window wearing a cloak, to find the old croon and end his suffering. Unfortunately, yours was only beginning.

《We have the contaminates in our sights, begin the extraction of deadly life forms immediately.》That radioed voice, clicked. And just like that you were blown away by an explosion coming from the front entrance.

Luckily you managed to land on your back. Instinctively curled to protect your little bundles of sunshine’s packed inside your womb. Your nerves were frayed, eyes wide with horror.

As Masked and heavily armored personnel, came filing in, ransacking your home. You were treated as an afterthought, as they searched for the antique doll, your dearest Pyrok.

From the side conversations, you picked up on the dreadful phrase, code black. They considered your silly alien clown to be a threat to the entire planet. Leaving no other options but his inevitable execution.

You let out a sigh of relief, thankful that your alien spouse was nowhere near. Though you felt on edge, seeing the personnel set their sights on you. After they found the basement filled with the stench of death. Bones of those who spoke to you in the aliens presence decorated the walls. Alongside organs he had saved in jars to snack on later.

《Ma’am you’re required to come with us immediately, under suspicion of harboring a extraterrestrial threat.》

A man spoke, roughly grabbing you by the arm hauling you to your feet. You could only grit your teeth, in the back of your mind you could only pray that he would accomplish killing the croon who cursed him all those decades ago.

Cradling your belly, you were determined to keep your promise to him. You’d find a way to protect you and your children. You had to, after all promises were meant to be kept right?

————

To be continued?

[imnotabot28]

ghostface law and ace for halloween!

[imnotabot28]

Best friend!Choso who announced to his family that he’d be marrying you the first day he ever met you in elementary school. Topped with a wedding venue (right underneath the playground slide) and wedding gifts (sand) picked out, too.

Best friend!Choso who still kept this promise going on all the way up until middle school- except this time he had a name for it—a crush. And Jin made sure to snap enough pictures of his bumbling, flustered son at your first ever school dance.

Best friend!Choso who reaches high school and realizes that this might be a little more than a crush. Who cries at your graduation and gifts you something he deems stupid, but asked every family member of his to help pick out - a promise ring.

Best friend!Choso who proposes to you on a random Sunday evening after lectures. And okay maybe it was a long time coming after he sends a picture to the family group chat (that you were in, too) and the only thing everyone starts doing is exchanging bets (Grandpa Itadori wins.)

[imnotabot28]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 stepdad nanami really likes your other hole!¹⁸

cw: stepdad nanami, step-cest, age gap, dilf nanami, anàl, usage of “good girl” ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ) (all characters are 18+)

nanami became your stepdad two months ago. it’s an old story—your mother remarried again and again, and you watched failed fathers walk out of your life. you were used to it.

nanami barely registered until your mother died in a tragic accident. she was never truly there for you, so the grief passed quickly. but something shifted with nanami. when you suggested moving to a distant relative’s place, nanami offered you a home with him instead, citing his loneliness and your need for a guardian.

so you stayed. the air grew thick with tension. he’s a gentleman, respectful in every way, but you catch his gaze lingering where it shouldn’t. nanami’s a good man, yet something stirs in him as the days slip by.

after a breakup, you collapse into nanami’s arms, tears soaking his shirt. he soothes you, fingers threading gently through your hair. “shh, don’t cry. he wasn’t worth you, good girl.” you cling tighter, sobbing, and he freezes before wrapping you in comfort again, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “it’s alright, m’girl. i’m here. hush now, you’re a good girl, yeah?”

it was meant to stay innocent, a stepdad and his stepdaughter navigating loss. but one day, you’re sprawled on nanami’s couch, panties tugged down to your thighs, his fingers circling your puckered hole. “angel, have you ever tried anything with your ass?” you bite your lip, stifling a moan. “mmh, no. my ex tried, but my ass was… too tight.” your voice cracks as he eases his middle finger inside.

“so tight, m’girl,” nanami groans, freeing his cock—thick, heavy, veined. your pupils blow wide as he strokes himself, cursing softly. “fuck—i just want to—hah—fuck this cute little ass, m’girl.” he adds another finger, stretching your ring of muscle, and you whimper, face buried in the pillow.

“good girl,” he murmurs, slapping his cock between your cheeks, the tip teasing your hole. “all spread out for daddy.” before you can speak, nanami spills across your ass, pushing some of his release inside with two fingers, drawing a helpless moan from you. “mmh, such a good girl, sweetheart.” he admires the mess he’s made, one hand kneading your plush cheek, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “keep being this good, m’girl, and i’ll reward you with something bigger next time.”

[imnotabot28]

Know Your Place

Pairing: Naoya x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Misogyny, Abuse, Rape/Non-Con, Humiliation, Degradation, Feet Stepping

Summary: You should have known better than to believe that Toji could protect you from the Zenin forever. Once a Zenin woman, always a Zenin woman and Naoya intends to make sure you fully understand that.

Growing up as a female in the Zenin clan means you’re always expected to serve, to look beautiful. Never speak unless requested to. Never look any of the men in the eyes. Obey. Be submissive and demure.

There are thousands of rules and dozens of leering eyes ready to punish you for a single minor infraction. So as much as you hate the life you’ve been born into, you know better than to act out and bring attention to yourself, knowing full well especially now as an adult woman that the price of transgressions are too high to pay.

You’d be incredibly fortunate for the usual heavy backhands Naobito and Ogi Zenin would grace your face with when you were still a minor, for the cruel condescending words Naoya would sneer at you. Those were child’s play compared to what’s in store for you now and you shudder when you remember the images of fellow female servants who had attempted to escape only to be easily captured, clothes stripped and body laid bare for the entire clan to see. You remember the fear that would make you tremble as the men howled in laughter and jeers as they took turns smacking their victim’s ass, pawing and groping her body. You remember sobbing when you were forced to watch as fists, cocks, objects that you thought were far too large were shoved between flailing legs.

But nothing keeps you in line more than the cold dread you’d feel heavy in your chest when you’d be forced to clean out the room of one of your ex-maids, preparing the room for the next poor soul born into a never ending life of servitude. As much as you hate this life, it’s still better than being tied up and forced to be nothing more than a Zenin sex doll, used by every man in the clan until there’s nothing left but an empty husk of skin.

So you keep your head down, ignoring the cruel words and predatory gazes that follow you. You enjoy the few moments you have in the servant quarters alone with your fellow maids, giggling and whispering to each other, pretending that you’re just normal women. Those friendships you form warm your heart and you take solace in the sympathetic glances and warm brief squeezes of hands when a Zenin man is particularly harsh in their treatment of you.

Maybe that’s why you can’t keep your body still when the woman who shares the same room as you accidentally spills hot tea all over Zenin Toji. And despite how terrified you are of Toji’s hulking figure and blood-stained reputation, you throw your body in between him and your friend, creating a feeble physical shield for her from his wrath.

A part of you is together enough to vaguely acknowledge how strange it is that Toji hasn’t roared a single word yet, hasn’t laid a hand on you. But you’re not foolish enough to think this is over and you throw yourself to the floor in a degrading groveling bow, begging him to forgive your friend, to have mercy on the both of you.

You know exactly who Zenin Toji is and you prepare yourself for the feeling of his infamous sword slicing through your neck. What you aren’t prepared for is the way he lets out a boisterous laugh, green eyes glimmering in amusement when he sees the bewildered look on your face as you tentatively peek up at him.

“You’ve got guts. Tell you what. I’ll forgive you and your clumsy friend if you become my personal maid. Deal?”

It’s a rhetorical question and you stiffly nod your head, tears forming in your eyes as you imagine the rest of your life chained to Toji’s bed, stuck in the lair of a beast.

Except your life isn’t anything like you had imagined and you’re stunned when Toji barks at you to go retire to your own room and get some rest so you’re ready to keep up with tomorrow.

Life is...surprisingly normal. Well as normal as it can be in the household of one of the top Jujutsu sorcerer clans in the world. You scowl at Toji as he teasingly throws a pile of sweat stained clothes and towels on top of your head as he walks out of the bath.

“You’re getting a little stronger, little lady. I almost even felt the punch you threw at me in training today.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the slight quirk of your lips and swell of pride at his backhanded compliment.

Toji isn’t anything like the rest of his clan and it goes deeper than just his lack of cursed energy or his supernatural strength. He’s kind. Okay, maybe that’s a stretch, but you genuinely believe he has a good heart. Not once has he ever spoken maliciously to you. Not once has he ever laid a hand even borderline inappropriate or suggestive on you. And sure, you don’t necessarily enjoy doing his dirty laundry, cleaning his room, and making his bed every day and night, but he makes it easy to forget that you’re just a lowly maid.

He talks to you as if you’re his equal, carefully listening to you, acknowledging your points (even if he mocks you when you do say something silly or that he disagrees with). He invites you to eat meals with him. He trains you deeming you too wimpy to last long without at least some basic defense skills. Your time with Toji is one of the few moments of happiness you know and you greedily indulge.

But unknown to you, your new proximity to the black wolf of the Zenin clan has more than one eye looking at you in interest and above all, Zenin Naoya can’t stop fixating on you.

Naoya has always had a strange mix of respect, disdain, and jealousy towards the older man and he can’t help himself from wanting what Toji has, especially when the both of you look so irritatingly happy chattering away with each other as if you have no cares in the world. How dare a lowly Zenin servant look so carefree. How dare curse-less Toji make a mockery of the rest of the clan by living a shame-free life despite how hard they try to humiliate him for it.

Has Naoya ever been happy? Ever been relaxed?

He can’t remember ever laughing as hard as Toji is now in response to something you’ve said or done. He can’t remember smiling so freely like you are as you playfully slap Toji and try to get him to stop teasing you. A green eyed monster slithers inside of him and before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s making his way towards the both of you.

“Aren’t you two as unseemly as usual. I know you don’t care for our clan’s reputation or rules, but really? Parading your slut around so shamelessly? That’s a new low even for you.”

It’s adorable how you scurry away, cowering behind Toji’s broad figure, fear written all over your face. And although Naoya had done this to get under Toji’s skin, he can’t help but wish the older man would storm off and leave you behind in his clutches. He wonders if you’d be this scared and docile underneath him, wonders how tight you’d be while you tremble in fear while he sinks inside of you…

His thoughts are abruptly interrupted as Toji snorts, slinging a muscular arm over your shoulder and dragging you off with him, subtly tucking you safely into his side and away from Naoya’s hungry gaze.

Usually being ignored and dismissed would rile him up more, but as he watches the two of you amble away and sees your innocent and confused face, unsure what had just happened and what’s causing Toji’s strangely touchy behavior, his appetite is whetted and you’re what he’s craving.

What he hadn’t accounted for is how protective Toji is of you. So strange for a man who doesn’t seem to care about anyone except himself. But Naoya supposes that’s just a testament for how good you must be in bed. He can’t think of any other reason why Toji would waste his time and efforts on an insignificant woman like you.

You’re never left alone long enough for him to corner. Just when he sees you by yourself and swoops in to shove you in a spare room, Toji suddenly looms beside you, green eyes sternly pinning Naoya down with a warning. And as much as Naoya would love to rise to the challenge, he knows that he doesn’t stand a chance against Toji, so he slinks away in defeat, again and again.

It only makes him want you more and he grits his teeth as he slams into one of the whores in his bed who vaguely reminded him of you if he squints in just the right way.

He supposes he should be more remorseful as the news of Toji’s death spreads like wildfire through the Zenin household. But all he can see is a light at the end of the tunnel. It takes every last bit of restraint in him not to immediately hunt you down and devour you, but he bides his time. After all the teasing and taunting you’ve put him through just one taste isn’t going to satisfy him anymore.

No, he won’t just ruin you and throw you away after a single night. He plans on dragging this out, using you, tasting you until it fully sinks in that this is all you’re good for, that he owns every part of you inside and out.

His cock twitches at your swollen face covered in salty tear streaks. You look so pathetic, so scared when he takes his time strolling into your room, kicking your roommate out and locking the door behind him. It’s just the two of you and he feels the rush of power thrumming through his veins at how you tremble and cower before him. If only you were naked and not in those dreary mourning clothes…

But he has ample time for that and he wants to enjoy corrupting you, take his time watching your downfall.

“You’re my maid starting now.”

You mutely nod, but make no move and Naoya scoffs.

“I know Toji was soft with you, but let me set expectations straight. I’m nothing like him. Now get moving.”

“But this is my room-”

You yelp in fright as Naoya’s hand grips the front of your shirt and hauls your body until you’re forced to press against his body, feeling his breath against your face as he sneers at you.

“Sluts don’t get the luxury of their own room or bed. Toji spoiled you. Now move your stuff to my quarters. The only place you’ll be sleeping from now on is my floor or my bed. Understood?”

It’s a rhetorical question and all you can do is crumple to the ground when he lets go, staring unseeingly at Naoya’s retreating back as he exits your room, the weight of your new reality crashing down on you.

Sleeping on the floor is humiliating and uncomfortable. Naoya makes it a point to “accidentally” step on you when he gets on and off the bed, rudely nudging you awake with his feet, resting his soles on your face until you’re flailing around to breathe. But it isn’t as bad as wondering when the worst is to come.

At least you’re clothed. At least your innocence is still intact. So as much as you feel like nothing more than a dog, you take it. After all, your new life isn’t so different from your life before Toji aside from your new sleeping arrangements and the headache of being in close proximity to Zenin Naoya.

It’s entertaining enough in the beginning, watching you curl up on the floor like an obedient puppy, admiring how you never talk or lash out when he literally walks all over you. He even buys you a pretty new collar with his name engraved on it linked to a leash he holds in his hand or leaves tied to his bed.

But unlike a real pet you never warm up to him, always looking at him warily, body tense and nervous in his presence. Not once do you look at him with even the slightest hint of affection or fondness you used to stare at Toji with. He supposes that can’t be helped and he doesn’t care for anything disgusting like your love. But you don’t even seem remotely attracted to him as a man and that’s something his ego won’t allow for.

He knows women can’t stand his attitude. But he also knows that at their base, all women are sluts easily swayed by his good looks. He can’t even count the number of women who’ve insulted him to his face only to end up in his bed, moaning and screaming his name and their love for his cock.

You were supposed to be no different. But your continued disinterest in him infuriates him to the point where petty humiliation isn’t enough to sate his hurt pride.

“Strip and get in bed.”

You’re frozen stiff and he sneers at you while you’re on the verge of terrified tears.

“What? I’m not good enough for you? Don’t act like you aren’t used to this. I’m sure your old master had you warming his bed all the time-”

“Toji would never!”

Even he’s stunned by the weight of his backhand hit as it makes contact with your face, by the venom in his voice as he spits out his next words.

“Don’t you ever say that name in my presence again.”

He takes a few seconds to calm his breath, the crimson of the blood trickling from your nose grounding him as he finds his center once more. But then a thought crosses his mind as that red river finds its way to your lips.

“As punishment, let’s make sure you know what your mouth’s purpose is from now on. Words are wasted on a dumb whore like you anyway. Kneel and open wide.”

It’s oddly arousing watching your tears and blood stream down your face as you choke on his cock. Your efforts are half-hearted at best, but he doesn’t mind. Not when the instinctual way your throat flutters around him as he roughly thrusts his hips into your tight mouth suffices. He can see why Toji kept you around and he groans as his hand slips behind your head and pushes you until your face is squished against his abdomen.

Your mouth feels amazing and your muffled screams for air only add to the vibrations around his shaft. It’s enough to have him spilling down your throat and he keeps you tightly pressed against him, forcing you to drink every last drop he gifts you with. And only when your throat finally stops its forced swallowing does he release you, leering down at your pitiful form heaving for breath.

The bitter taste of his seed is all you can taste, all you can focus on as you greedily inhale much needed oxygen. You pray that he’s done, but you whimper when a strong hand easily pulls you up and begins to pull off your clothing. Instinctively you try to push the invasive appendages away from you, but you freeze at Naoya’s growled threat.

“Don’t make me hurt you any more than I have to.”

You know it’s not an empty threat. You’ve seen the quite literally broken bodies of women who had resisted too much against the Zenin men, against Naoya specifically. So you limply drop your arms to your side and stay still as he humiliatingly gropes and examines you like merchandise.

All you can do is clench your eyes shut as Naoya’s hands grab your breasts, kneading and weighing them in his hands, cruelly prodding and pinching your nipples to see your reactions. All you can do is bite back a muffled yelp when he forces you onto your knees and forearms on the bed, squeezing and smacking your ass, spreading apart your cheeks to closely look at your fluttering holes. All you can do is cry into the sheets as he fingers you open, breaching both untouched openings, his thick digits stretching your tight walls apart and taking their time to thoroughly defile you, using your own slick to loosen your ass.

You try to disassociate, try to imagine that this is just a medical examination. But your fantasies are shattered when something hard and thick slaps against your inner thigh as Naoya rearranges himself behind you, rubbing the head of his cock back and forth against your dripping entrance, coating his shaft with your juices.

“Naoya! Sir, please. I’ve never...You can’t-”

Your pleas are cut short as his hand painfully strikes your ass.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re ruining the mood with your sniveling voice. Remember what I taught you? Sluts don’t get to speak freely. They only get to moan and thank their masters.”

You don’t even know if you can speak even if you wanted to, not when his cock is forced into you in one go, the thick and lengthy shaft ruthlessly tearing you apart. It fills you, stuffing you full, and you don’t think there’s even room left in your body for words. The only thing you can release is a strangled scream, eyes and mouth blown wide open, fingers clawing at the sheets as you try to remotely ground yourself as the foreign sensation overwhelms you.

But Naoya has never been a patient man and there’s a certain sense of entertainment from watching you struggle and writhe underneath him. He begins a relentless pace before you can adjust to the feeling of him inside of you, hips slamming in and out of you, heavy balls bouncing against you.

You’re so tight, so hot, so wet and he can feel a rush of power from the confusion he begins to see setting on your face as forced pleasure begins to mix in with your fear and pain. Moans and high-pitched keens are finding their way in between distressed cries and he smirks at the way your eyes begin to roll back in your head, the way your hips begin to meet him halfway, greedily pushing back against him when he teasingly slows down his pace.

He laughs at the humiliation and embarrassment running rampant on your face when you whine as he abruptly stops

“Wow you really are a slut. You fucking love my cock, don’t you?”

He rolls his eyes as you adamantly shake your head in denial, bored by your playing hard to get act. But as he admires the way your pussy lips obscenely envelop his cock, your pretty puckered hole beckons to him.

“You’re fucking filthy, clamping down on me like a bitch in heat from just a thumb in your ass. You like that? Like having all your holes filled? Maybe when I break you in, I’ll share you with the rest of the clan. Bet you’d love that. Love having cocks in every hole, using every inch of you.”

Your orgasm takes the both of you by surprise in its speed and intensity and Naoya howls in laughter as he resumes fucking you, chasing his own high with his thumb still lodged in your ass, groaning in pleasure at how he can feel the tremors of your orgasm, the way your body convulses in the aftershocks of pleasure and onset of overstimulation.

You’re breathtaking like this, fucked silly, delirious, just a warm body and toy for him to do with as he pleases and it doesn’t take long for him to join you over the edge and add to the sticky mess already inside of you.

With a lewd pop he retracts his thumb from your now lewdly fluttering hole, shoving it into your mouth for you to clean and he smiles at how mindlessly obedient you are as you suck and lick the digit clean like it's your favorite lollipop.

You grimace when he finally pulls out, already feeling his cum beginning to leak out of you and you try and find the strength in your trembling and used body to push yourself off the bed. It’s time to retreat with your tail between your legs and you want nothing more than to spend the rest of the evening in the shower, harshly scrubbing every evidence of your utter defeat and conquest under boiling hot water.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You open your mouth to speak, only to quickly clamp it back shut, remembering how your words only seemed to dig you deeper and deeper into trouble.

“You’re going to wash me and yourself and once we’re clean, you’re going to remain naked and in my bed until I’m ready to use you again. Think of it as a promotion. No more worrying your stupid little head about cleaning and laundry anymore. You’re being upgraded to my personal sex slave and bed warmer. Come on, I don’t have all day.”

You wonder if this is what it feels like to walk the plank, to approach your own death sentence as you robotically trail after Naoya’s figure towards his lavish bathroom. And as you lay in his bed that night, pristine and bare like a glorified sex doll, his broad arm possessively slung around your waist and forcing your bodies to mold together, you bid farewell to your past life, dreading what the future has in store for you.

[imnotabot28]

lets just get this started,

hi everynyan!!

i’m sorry ive been gone, ive had a really hectic time but always in a good way. so many new opportunities and chances to learn new skills. happy i could take some time to update my blog on here!

i will be spamming your timeline today with all the art ive made after leaving tumblr, tw its juicy as hell 😈

feel free to block me if it becomes oversaturated with bunni content :3!

here’s a yuta spread!

[imnotabot28]

yalll........🫢

timeskip tsukishima 🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑 nothing else to say tbh

[imnotabot28]

satoru kisses your forehead so often it’s starting to feel like punctuation. a period. a comma. a little smooch to end every sentence.

he is so tall for one reason and one reason only: to kiss your forehead whenever, wherever, without needing your permission. not that you’d ever deny him—how could you, when he leans down with that dumb little smile and murmurs, “hold still” like he’s about to perform surgery instead of smooch your skin?

you’ll be mid-rant about your day, pacing around the kitchen, flinging your hands everywhere, and he’ll just scoop you up and press a kiss to your forehead like it’ll soothe your soul—and honestly, it kind of does. it always does.

he does it when you’re sleepy and tucked under the covers, blinking up at him through half-lidded eyes. he does it when you’re frowning at your laptop and cursing your workload. he does it when he’s got to leave for a mission and you’re doing your best not to cry.

he does it in public too—especially, when you’re in public. you could be mid-argument in a parking lot and he’s still bending down to mwah your forehead like it’s his divine right. he’s kissed you in line at the DMV, in front of an entire wedding party (that wasn’t yours), even while you were holding a whole rotisserie chicken at the grocery store. no shame. no hesitation. he’s got a forehead-kiss quota and he’s not letting society stop him from meeting it.

“you’re not allowed to leave the house until i kiss you,” he says one morning, arms wrapped around your waist like a koala. “it’s for protection. a forehead blessing.”

and when you do roll your eyes and try to tease him—“what if i’m taller than you one day?”—he just smirks, tilts your chin up, and kisses you anyway.

“then i’ll climb.”

[imnotabot28]

then i did hiromi higuruma and got shadowbanned on tiktok for it!

[imnotabot28]

Happy Island Getaway

TW: Yandere Behaviors, Dubcon/intentions of noncon, Violence, Forced Captivity, Gun Violence, Gojo is a bit more on the feral/unhinged side. MDNI

Yandere! Gojo x Reader

a/n: This was supposed to be a cozy Animal Crossing thought... and then @raspberrietreats said “billionaire Gojo” and my brain spiraled. Thank you for your crimes 🫶 Now here we are: one sugar daddy, a fake plane crash, and a very reluctant bride.

Yandere! Gojo, who lounges lazily across the private island he bought just for you - so sweet, right? So romantic. A whole paradise with your name on it. Just the two of you. Isn’t he thoughtful?

So why, baby, why do you keep writing those little SOS messages in the nice warm sand?

He can’t help but smile behind his designer sunglasses, sipping from a chilled coconut as he watches you crouch near the shore, carefully arranging smooth white stones into a shaky, desperate H E L P M E. It’s adorable, really. He even chuckles a bit, brushing his snow-white hair back with one hand, his long legs stretched out on a ridiculously luxurious sun chair.

“You know I own the air rights to this place, right?” he calls lazily, voice teasing and light, like he’s talking about a parking ticket and not your failed rescue attempt. “No one’s even allowed to fly over without my permission. But points for creativity, princess.”

You don’t answer, at least not with words. Just hurling the coconut he gave you into the waves, salty tears brimming in your eyes, fingernails caked with blood and sand from trying to build a fire that wouldn’t light.

“Aw, c’mon now,” Satoru pouts, finally getting up and sauntering over. He squats beside you in the sand, the scent of salt and sunscreen clinging to his skin, long fingers idly brushing a stick out of your shaking hands. “You didn’t have to throw that,” he adds, a little sing-song, a little scolding. “The poor guy who carved it really didn’t deserve that. I mean, I did rip his tongue out afterwards, but still. It’s the principle, baby.”

You glare at him. He coos.

“I know you’re mad. I get it. Sure, maybe faking a plane crash wasn’t... super ethical. And yeah, flying my jet into the damn ocean might’ve been a little harmful to the environment, but how else was I supposed to make you stay with me?” His grin spreads slowly, sharklike. “Forever and ever. Just us. Isn’t that romantic?”

You don’t respond. You can’t. Not with your throat tight, hands trembling, sobs building thick in your chest.

He pulls out a sealed bottle of water, unscrews the cap with one hand, and presses it to your lips with the other.

“Thirsty, baby?” he murmurs, watching your expression with glittering eyes. “You’ve been working so hard today.”

And when you turn your head away, refusing even that, he just sighs, tilting your chin back gently with two fingers.

“Be good for me,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your salt-streaked cheek. “You’ll feel better once you stop fighting it.”

You take the smallest sip, the glare never leaving your face. Tears drip freely now, hot trails down skin already raw from sun and salt.

“Good girl,” he beams, voice bright like he’s praising a puppy. “See? If you keep that up - well! Maybe, just maybe, I’ll call someone to come pick us up.” His grin widens, dazzling and full of mockery. “But I’m having such a good time here, baby. Would be a real shame if you didn’t indulge with me.”

He takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours like he hasn’t just destroyed your life, like you’re lovers on vacation. His thumb rubs slow circles against your wrist, almost tender. That crooked, boyish grin spreads across his face again - pretty, if you didn’t know better. If you didn’t see the rot behind it.

“We could be really good together,” he hums, tilting his head. “Not like you have any other options.”

And just like that, he pushes you gently back into the sand, the fine grains clinging to your skin and the tattered remains of your dress - god, your poor dress. It’s barely more than fabric now, after all the gifts you refused. The silks. The swimsuits. The sundresses. You stopped taking anything from him after you saw what he did - what he made of the staff. Tongueless. Broken. Just so you’d only ever speak to him.

“God, you’re so pretty,” he mutters, breath warm against your cheek. Then, quieter, almost under his breath: “Besides the grime. You could really use a shower, baby.”

Your stomach sinks. Heavy. Cold. Sinking like the plane he crashed, just a day ago, now rusting on the seafloor.

He leans in to kiss you, palm brushing over your chest with sickening familiarity. “C’mon, sugar. You always said you wanted a sugar daddy, and now that I’m playing the part… what? You don’t want me?”

He pouts, then grins again - baby blue eyes crinkling like he just cracked a joke only he understands. His lips find yours before you can twist away, tongue hot and invasive, tasting of coconut and cruelty. One hand creeps beneath your dress, fondling with your breas, the other pins your wrists above your head.

You bite down.

Hard.

Blood floods your mouth, metallic and hot. He jerks back, lips split, a crimson smear curling at the edge of his grin.

“Ow,” he whines, but his eyes are alight, wide and so terribly pleased. “Oh, baby. I had a plane coming.”

He sighs theatrically, licking the blood off his lip. “Guess you just lost your chance.”

Your breath stutters. Your eyes flick to his side - where the gun holster rests, sleek and silent.

He follows your gaze and laughs, loud and bright like waves crashing on coral.

“That’s okay,” he chirps. “I could use the longer vacation anyway.”

He leans down again, lips brushing your ear, breath warm and syrupy.

“Run if you want to, baby. I always catch what’s mine.”

You feel it. His hand loosening.

An invitation.

A test.

You scramble. The sand burns under your palms, jagged shells biting into your skin as you push yourself up and take off, stumbling and zigzagging toward the trees. Behind you, he lets out a low whistle and starts counting.

“One… two… three…”

He’s grinning. Wide. Wild. Like this is the best game he’s ever played. You’re fast - God, you’re fast - but he’s not worried. No, never that. Because when he hits ten, he raises his arm with surgical calm and -

Bang.

The bullet slices clean through the back of your leg, barely missing bone. Your scream splits the air as you hit the sand, limbs twisting, blood soaking into the shoreline.

“Don’t you know I’m a straight shot?” he sings, sauntering toward you, carefree as a boy in love. The gun is tossed aside like trash, clattering onto the beach behind him.

He crouches low beside you, knees digging into the sand, and brushes your tears away with those soft, unworked hands - fingers that have never lifted anything heavier than a silver spoon.

“Shhh, baby,” he coos, voice thick with mock concern. His grin stretches almost too wide. “I know it hurts. I know.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, the blood from your leg staining the hem of his linen pants.

“But hey, bright side?” he chirps, voice lilting, eyes sparkling like you’re the guest of honor at some romantic dinner and not bleeding out in front of him. “Now we get to spend so much more time together. You can’t run anymore. Isn’t that sweet?”

You try to crawl - anything - but he just tilts his head and grabs your chin, thumb brushing your bottom lip.

“I mean, baby, think about it,” he murmurs, so close now. “You always said you wanted a sugar daddy. Someone rich. Someone handsome.” He kisses you again, sickeningly soft. “I am playing the part, right?”

“And now…” His voice lowers. Darkens. “Now we’re just gonna get married.”

You flinch when he leans in for another peck, right on your cheek, thumb still resting on your lower lip, dragging across the soft flesh.

He laughs, a soft and bright sound.

“But hey. Just a warning.” His thumb taps against your lips, thoughtful. “If you want to keep that pretty little tongue of yours, I suggest you say yes when I propose.”

He smiles so sweetly it makes your stomach twist.

“Wouldn’t want a mute wife, now would I?”

[imnotabot28]

┌─ “ ! „ IN OUR BONES GROW TREES

tw. yandere, incest, cannibalism, blood/violence, explicit gore, praise kink, amputation, vash and nai are a bit jealous of each other, size kink, ! cannibalism as love

wordcount. 5.4k

a/n. ♡ ever since the Megumi fic I've been dyinggggg to go back to cannibalism as love and !!! then beloved rhi @seijorhi wanted to do it and I wanted to do it toooo and now here we are! we are winninggggg girlies yes yes yes! ♡ honestly as most of my cest fics this is awfully soft but still heed the warning bc I'm sure this isn't everyones cup of tea but eEEEEEhHHH for those of you who see the vision I HOPE yOU ENJOYYYY!!!

vash saverem x fem!reader x knives saverem

You can’t breathe. Not always, but often enough that it aches like a festering wound. It overtakes you, and with time creates scabs that don’t heal. You always struggle to breathe when you feel watched. You have visions of being dunked in water and separated from your kind—head underwater, out, underwater again. Even in this pod made specifically to hold you, feed you, it’s hard to get the oxygen down into your collapsed lungs.

Icy water flows through them sluggishly, pushes on your eyes and ears, steals your attention. Your focus. When you struggle to breathe it makes you think of memories that you know you never experienced. Sounds you never heard. When it aches, it almost feels real. Feeling skin on skin, hands intertwining, and wind on your cheeks. The laugh of a boy with bright blue eyes, and the sigh of another. There’s a million things you want to do, but know you can’t. You pry your eyes open against the pressure.

They’re watching again.

Always, watching them watch you, from the safety of your cage behind glass. Those matching faces that come often, sometimes stay for hours perched on the bay. They talk to you, too. One chatty, the other not so much. You can’t hear them from where you’re suspended, but you can see their mouths, and sometimes, sometimes you swear you can listen to their voices anyway.

You’ve gotten awfully attached to them. If the way they hang around your pod more than any other is anything to go by, the feeling must extend to them, too.

Sweet, big blues study you in your budding cocoon - hands pressed to the glass.. He’s watched you grow into yourself in absolute fascination for what you think is years. Because once he was shorter and cheeks round; and he no longer is. His limbs have stretched and his hair has grown, and so has the other one for that matter.

Watching them through the obnoxious blue fluid; you often find yourself wondering. If you were out there, would your life be anything like theirs? You can’t talk like they talk, can’t laugh and banter like you see them do. Can’t scream. Not in here. 

You don’t even know their names.

You’ve been in here long enough to have forgotten the size of your limbs. 

Today is an insignificant day that starts as they always do. The lights are turned on in the hull, and you reach out to press your hand to the glass. It’s earlier than normal for the lights to be on, but you wake from your slumber anyway. Because you know you’ll find someone staring back. Opposite the glass, you find the ashy blond, always with those intense eyes. His larger hand comes to touch yours, through inches between you— no matter, you’re convinced you can still feel the heat of it. His eyebrows furrow, and lips move.

He’s concerned. Or maybe, angry. Those icy eyes dig deep into yours. For not the first time, he looks at you like he’s looking into your soul.

The bubbles in the water roll to the surface with an impatient noise, and you gasp against the pressure. Suffocate a little in the water that’s forced into your lungs. It never kills you, though. The young man before you looks over his shoulder into the freshly lit-up ship. Pauses. He slowly reveals his hand from under his clothes, and a silver glittering catches your eye.

Then, everything bursts with a deafening noise.

Implodes in on itself, as an ice pick is swung into the glass before you and shatters your cocoon into a million pieces. You know you scream in pain only by the sting you feel in your throat - and the fluid rushes away from you in all directions. Without the suspension of the water you immediately tumble onto the cold, drenched floor between the shards, gasping and crying — though you can’t hear it. Like a stranded fish, you curl up in pain for long enough for the water to escape from your ears, and suddenly everything is incredibly loud. 

Your own breathing. His. The ship, and the buzzing of the lights, and the pressure of the air on your ear drums — instinctively your hands cup your ears and press your eyes shut as hard as you can. Something heavy and warm and strange starts to move your hair out of your face. It tickles. It doesn’t hurt like the noise does.

And then, what has to be a voice. “Finally… it’s okay, be quiet. Niichan’s going to pick you up.” Your naked body is lifted despite your limpness, and hands start moving around to hoist you up from the floor and into a solid chest. “Vash! Get over here.”

“I asked you to wait!”

“I’m sick of waiting. We’re doing it now.” His voice rumbles his chest against you, and sounds so loud in your head. “Get one of the pods and an access key. She’s freezing, hurry.” You can just about crack open your eyes to take in the adoring way ocean blues come into view painted with worry, attached to the darker haired blond, and how he leans in to wrap a red jacket around your naked body.

+

The room is dark and green tinted under the LEDs of the lab. You wiggle your toe. Your fingers. As Nai looks up with those ice blue eyes and chastises you. His frown has worn into his face, but there’s brief moments when you get to see him without worry. Brief moments you spend hours trying to find. “Stop moving when I’m trying to do work.” The leather straps around your limbs are starting to get uncomfortable, but you can’t do much about it when Nai’s sat between your legs on the floor, and his hands work with as much smooth deftness as they always do.

“Is it still itchy? Looks like it’s healing alright.” You shake your head side to side. The frosty blond picks at the last of the stitches on your thigh, pulling the threads achingly tight, before giving a small but approving nod. You grimace, but don’t complain. When he’s happy with what he sees, he straightens up before you and towers over you all that much more. “Alright, give me your arm. Let’s have dinner, hm?” Again, you nod.

He undoes your ankle strap and then your wrists, before taking your face between his fingers to tilt you up, and here and there. Cold blue eyes glinting with something you suppose is care. He chews the inside of his cheek for a few seconds, as if waiting you out, before sighing. “What’s wrong? You’re quiet.”

“I’m just tired, Nai nii…”

You are. Exhausted. Knives doesn’t respond, but he has no reason not to believe you. You’re not a liar. Never learned how, so it shows on your face too obviously when you even think about trying. Your big brothers know you more than anyone else, and they would know if you weren’t being honest.

He offers his shoulder for you to grab onto and hoists you off the doctor’s chair, wraps an arm around your waist. Your missing leg tingles because of the motion, like it’s still there - and when you think of wiggling your other toe, you can still feel the muscles try. “You’re too tall,” you try to change the subject instead, having his icy eyes back on your face. He doesn’t laugh when you do, but some of the tenseness does slide away. You’re hopped towards the door with your big brother’s help, and he pushes you through the open door like he’s helping a fawn stand on two legs for the first time.

Even though you’re used to it.

It’s far from the first time you’re doing this.

The hobbling continues as he leads you down the hall towards living quarters, deposits you exhausted at the dinner table— and immediate chatter reaches your ears. The other blond is so attuned to it all that it takes him no time at all to peek his head out of the kitchen to watch you with a smile so wide it makes his eyes into half moons. “You two always have perfect timing, the stew is done cooking.” The table is lovingly set, flowers in the small, patched-up vase. There’s never enough food to put on the whole show, but Vash loves it. And you love your brother.

“How are you feeling?” he asks when taking a seat right next to you, petting your head and nuzzling his face into your crown. “I always worry ‘bout this sort of stuff. I’m glad Nai does it and not me. Don’t think I could have an appetite after it.” A puff of satisfied breathing comes into your hair. He’d have you crawl into his lap if he had his way. Closer, even.

“It’s okay, nii nii,” you whisper, “I know you need it.”

He stares at the side of your face like he’s peeking under your skin, but doesn’t say anything. His long fingers lace with yours, and he gives another hum of approval. “Let’s eat?”

Nai’s impassive expression settles on your laced hands, before he also takes a seat. “Well then. Get started, your food’s getting cold.” He starts with Vash’s plate, and yours second. Unnecessary, because you don’t need to eat. His eyes glint over as if he’s reading your mind. “Eat.” He serves himself last, because for better or for worse— Nai is devoted.

You watch Vash untangle your hands just so he can clap them together, before grabbing his spoon and starting to eat; letting the smell waft through the house. It’s steaming hot, and with the miserable dry, cold weather out there it’s nice to see him so happy. Second is Nai, who’s spoon scrapes along the porcelain with a purposeful noise.

Most plants don’t need to eat. Most, except for Vash, who you’re in a constant struggle to keep fed when the world is so harsh and unforgiving out there. Knives and you have been blessed with the lack of an appetite, but the oldest just eats because he can. Because he likes it, and the way it strings you all together as one.

You’re third to eat, if only to make your brothers happy. You pick up your own spoon to scoop up some of the softly cooked meat. Your sutures itch like crazy.

+

You’re pressed to the side of his chest, and his heartbeat is slowly drumming a pattern into your cheek. Wrapped in his arms, your face hot, legs tangled. Knives likes using you as a pillow, because he runs hot and you run cold— it’s a habit you’ve gotten into since he broke you out decades ago. Took you from your womb-like captivity and pressed you to his chest.

His heartbeat is steady, and it’s warm. You like being here.

Vash comes through the door with a slight uncharacteristic frown. Though calling it a frown is a bit overblown. You’ve never seen him with a scowl - you’re half convinced he might be incapable of it. What he is, though, is distressed for some reason or another. “Vash niisan?” you speak up from your position on the couch, trying to turn into Knives’ hold that he refuses to loosen even a bit. You have to settle for stretching your neck to catch his eyes. “Are you alright— What’s… When’s the last time you ate?”

His eyes soften from his place by the door, and he comes to kneel before you. Rests his chin on the couch, nose to nose. He’s always so gentle. It aches. It takes on your breath a little. Through a slightly pained look, he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. “I’ll make it a few more days. We have some meat in the freezer. I'll get it out when we really run low— though I appreciate your concern. I only came to see what you guys were up to.” Knives lets out a breath into your hair, before forcing his body to mold closer against yours, a statement. Vash’s eyes just follow the motion of his hips pushing against yours, and his thigh wrapping over your leg.

“Imouto wanted to cuddle, so we’re cuddling.”

He glares like a dog claiming territory, with a growl rumbling his throat. Metal clicks angrily at his back, of sharp edge brushing sharp edge at his displeasure. He’ll cut up the couch at this rate. The couch first, your fragile body next. His nails start to dig into your skin and his strong arms squeeze your ribs because of how he holds on to you, until it’s hard to breathe. Suffocated under the pressure of his love.

You never doubt his devotion; it just gets to be too much when the both of them are on you at the same time. The air is squeezed out of you, and you fight out a gasp. “Nai niisan… Ow.”

“Stop that— Nai. Be more careful. You always take advantage of her. She’s fragile,” Vash finishes instead of you, pushing him away by the knee to inspect your freshly grown skin. It’s bold in a way Vash only is when it comes to protecting you. Not a few months ago, your stump was barely to your hip bone. Now you’ve got a whole new thigh and knee, almost down to your ankle. The fresh limb is still itchy, but at least you can tangle it with your brother’s legs again the way he demands. Vash takes hold of it and presses a few kisses to your shin, sitting down on the floor beside the two of you. “I’m grateful for you, y’know that? I probably wouldn’t have survived half this long with my condition if it wasn’t for you.”

You can’t lie. Sometimes you wish you had a power like Nai. Something dangerous and powerful, to protect your family with, like they do for you. Like Vash promises he’ll do for you when he’s in your bed and kissing every inch of your skin in the dead of night. But you suppose all things work out the way they do for a reason. He looks so beautiful in the low light. Blinking long, blond lashes up at you where they frame baby blues. Nai’s grunting in jealousy behind you, but you let him lean in to press his lips to yours with a soft noise. Reach your fingers out to brush along his cheek. You swallow, and shake your head a slight bit. “It’s nothing, niichan. Really.”

“Be more honest.” Nai’s arm pulls your waist tighter, and his mouth brushes along your ear. He’s draped over you like a blanket now, almost burying you under his weight like he’s trying to keep you from Vash’s touch. Jealous, more than angry. Territorial, more than upset. His breaths brush along your face, and he takes a deep breath of you. “It’s not nothing. Your big brothers are telling you they’re grateful. As we should be. Accept it.”

He hums as he rolls his hips into your ass, and starts nosing down your neck. “You’re a good little sister. You know we adore you.” Kisses are pushed to your pulse point, blood rushing. A heartbeat that starts speeding up caught between the two of them. Because though he’s barely got the access to, Vash’s hands are on you as soon as the first noise falls from your lips. Sliding up along your thigh to find the hot place between your legs, and sighing at the feeling.

“Agh- ah, ah…” Your head is nudged back.

Nai softly groans. “Fuck, you’ve made me hard.”

“You’re always hard when you’re pressed to her,” Vash chuckles, and presses a million kisses to your tummy where he can reach, before pushing you both back towards the back of the furniture to make room for him. “Nai’s right though.” Long fingers squeeze the meat of your thigh, and he pulls you close until he’s sandwiching you against his chest. “You’re the best little sister ever. No one is better to us. You even let us do all of this…” His fingers catch on your mound, forcing circles into your sensitive spot through your clothes. “Can you show nii nii your tongue? I want to kiss it.”

“D-don’t be gross,” you say, failing to catch your breath. But you stick out the squirming muscle anyway, because it makes Vash happy. You would do anything if it made them happy. And you’ve got a lot to be grateful for.

+

The water is steaming hot. It doesn’t feel the same as it did then. This is surely a kinder place than you three were in before. The water evaporates as it touches your skin; only slightly though, not enough to burn. You’re harder to kill than humans are. It tickles at your shoulders.

Vash’s long legs come into view as he steps into the water too, splashes you with the motion, and you can’t help but laugh. Your hands slip from around your chest to stable yourself on the slippery bottom instead— watching Vash crowd into your space in the bath on purpose. He always does this, and before he’s seated, you’re already laughing at his expression. Your brother’s got a blush on his face, nose rosy. And his eyes flick all over you, through the wobbly refraction of the water. “What are you laughing at? Don’t laugh like you’ve never seen me naked. Pervert.”

“You’re the one who wanted to bathe together.”

He pushes your head away with two fingers to make room for himself to slip into the water, lean, muscular body scrunching up to fit beside you. There’s other places to sit, and plenty of room deeper in, but he always chooses your side over comfort. “You’re not scared anymore. You used to only want to wash off when you could climb all over me to keep yourself steady. You were a real handful. Nai would get so mad you didn’t want to go in.”

“I think he was upset I didn’t wanna go in with him, but I went in with you.” Your mouth instinctively curls up at the memory, of how flustered and pink Vash used to get. You didn’t fully get it back then. Instead of lingering on that, you reach out to touch his skin for the familiarity, and sigh. “I haven’t been scared to get into the water for about a decade though, nii nii.” His hands slip under the water to cradle your hips and pull you into his lap— you just barely manage to steady yourself before your head goes under. Instead your knees settle either side of his hips so you can sit on his thighs and rest your face against his chest. Too close. Just enough to still be comfortable.

“Has it really been that long?”

The steam makes your hair stick to the back of your neck. “I think so.” Your chest rises and falls in tandem with his, and he presses kisses to your exposed shoulder before humming, and nuzzling up to your throat. He smells nice, and you trace a finger along the stitched edge of his scars. “Do you think we’ll ever get to leave the ship for good?”

Vash chews his tongue for a bit, debating answering at all. He’s comfortable right now, and if past memories are any proof, you’re about to get a lot more comfortable too if he’s given his way— Vash is just as much prone to exploiting your weaknesses as Nai is. Even more, sometimes.

Eventually, he does decide to answer. “Nai’s building a new world for us out there. When we’re free… when he’s sure you’ll be safe, and no one will ever take you away from us-” his eyes look hopeful, finding yours, “-I’m sure we will. Nai is doing it to protect you-”

“-to protect me.” You chant at the same time. He’s pushing you closer, and softly biting down on your neck where his kisses leave hot trails. “I know. No one would take care of me like you two have.” The touch of his skin under your legs shifts, and Vash lets his tongue peek between his lips to leave wet kisses along the shell of your ear too. The part where he’s different from you is starting to swell and push against you, and your breathing gets too heavy. Your mouth cracks open, and Vash softly moans against your skin. “Again, nii nii? We did that just this morning, you’re going to tire yourself out.”

“It’ll be okay. I just can’t get enough of you. Don’t tell Nai.”

“He’ll know anyway,” you try to say, ignoring the way he’s curling around underneath you to get closer than is possible. He touches like his fingertips will reach bone if he tries hard enough, grabbing everything that he can reach and squeezing and rutting himself against you. You’re never sure how he doesn’t get tired of touching you this much. “He always knows.”

You don’t notice you’re pulling away and frowning off into the open space of the bathroom until Vash disconnects his mouth from your skin to look at you in the eye again. “What’s wrong? Am I hurting you?” He stares for a moment, before licking his lips and sliding his hands lower down your legs to squeeze his fingers into the muscle there too. “Show me your leg.” Without waiting, he wraps his hand around your ankle and yanks it up above the water, catapulting you backwards with the motion. You swallow a mouthful of the bath in surprise, but right yourself fast enough to catch Vash’ look when he stares at you with a look so cherishing and loving it feels almost too sweet.

Gentle but deep, an endless longing.

“Why’d you do that for?” you cough out, and slap his chest— anything but pull your foot away from his face as he’s running a digit along your shin and to pin your foot between two fingers.

Baby blues get hidden away with a blink so he can kiss your skin, ankle, the ball of your foot, douse kisses on you until you start wiggling and it tickles. “I love you. So much. I love you so much I could eat your flesh clean off your bones— Nai does too, though he doesn’t say it. We love you so— much.” When you whine at his touch, he cracks open his eyes. “Would you hate me a lot if I bit off one of your little toes right now? Just the one.” He chuckles when your face instinctively scrunches up in disgust, only to exchange it for a pout. 

His face is smiling, eyes glinting playfully with the reflecting of the water. You blush.

“Don’t say weird stuff, niichan∼ You always say weird stuff and do weird stuff. Weirdo.” You turn to your stomach to escape from his touch further into the water instead of propping yourself up, and hide your face away from his sight even though his hands chase you. “No, haha- Don’t follow me! Stay there.”

He doesn’t, and when he grabs back for your hips you two bounce water over the side of the tub. You’re laughing as Vash pulls you back to him with a giggle. “Don’t run∼ You can’t run from us. We’ll find you wherever you try to go anyway.” He wraps two arms around your core and lifts you in one motion out of the water so that your butt’s pressed against his stomach and your arms flail to reach for him at the lack of stability. Too exposed- not that he cares.

“Vash nii! We’re gonna- we’re gonna fall!” You squeal like a child, unable to help yourself. It’s hot, and your entire face gets a few degrees hotter when you can feel his chuckle bounce through your body. He’s so much bigger than you. You wonder why that is. It seems almost unfair.

He leans over your shoulder even with his hold on you like this, hooks his chin over your shoulder. “Give nii nii a kiss, come here. I won’t actually bite you.” His saccharine smile is a hard force to fight against. You go limp in his touch. “Sit on my lap, hm? Let’s keep playing around a little longer. You love your brothers, don’t you?” At your nod he gently lets you get back onto your feet, sits down on the edge of the tub, and pats his thighs.

His cock’s been hard this entire time, you’re sure, because a thick bead of precum glistens on the flushed head. As soon as you lower yourself onto his lap, he aims the spongy cockhead to slide up and down between your slick pussy, and your hands come to rest on his wide shoulders. Vash nudges his face to tilt yours up, and motions a kissy face your way. “One kiss?”

“Ten. Ten kisses on the mouth and I’ll leave you alone. Lift your hips.” He slides his cock down against you until it is nudging right up against your hole, and gives another slight thrust. It’s all you need to shift your hips into him, and have his bigger body invade yours. “Agh- you’re the best little sister. Gud- good job.”

+

The pistoning of his hips is distracting you from the fact that Vash is rattling off complaints almost like clockwork, a whine every two minutes. Nai’s sharp eyes narrow further as he snaps his head to the side, and your tummy flutters when he presses his thumb on that perfectly sensitive button that takes all your thoughts away. He slips out of you upon the next thrust and groans in annoyance at both issues at once. “Vash. If I let you in here this one time- hng,” your wet pussy’s spasming around his cock when he pushes himself back inside you, can’t help it, “you were gonna be quiet and let me do my work. If you’re not happy watching then you can fuck off.”

“I’m happy watching, I just want to kiss her too. You don’t need to take up every inch of her skin to work.”

Though the oldest looks more irritated by the second, he does let up a little bit; enough for Vash to drip his head down to your face. Where you’re tearing up and your hands are forcefully laced with Nai’s to keep you still, your mouth is occupied by gentle, loving kisses that he moans into when tasting your tongue, moving around on the plastic sheet to curl his body around your exposed half. “You’re so hot,” your big brother confirms again. “I’ll kiss it all better, m’kay? Do you believe me?”

His pretty blues bore so deep into yours that you’re sure he’s seeing right through you. You hum though, and whether or not he notices your anxiety, Nai squeezes your fingers tighter. You like the smell of Vash’s hair as he’s so close, and you like the feeling of Nai’s touch. It sends hot flares down your body. It’s just… 

“I believe you.” Your eyes get teary out of nowhere, and your nose starts to run. The rate of your heart inside your ribcage starts to bounce almost violently in anticipation, and Vash happily smiles down on you. Puppy like, content even. You would do anything for them. Your leg begins to violently itch at the thought, and your lip is trapped between your teeth. It’s taking too long. He’s teasing you by holding it still and letting you wait for it. “Nai nii…”

You can feel your blood rush under your skin, through your head and into your stomach— even before Nai grunts in agreement. “Are you feeling good? We’ll do the other leg this time, okay?”

“Where do you cut it,” Vash breathes in between over-excited pants. “How does it feel? Can I taste her?” You want to blame it on the heat between you three, but his eyes are so wide and dilated. Odd. You feel odd. He’s basically crawling over you to look at the place you and Nai are connected and then where the oldest is kneading the skin of your upper thigh— wiping his palm along your cheek to brush away your tears when looking back. Your legs are ragdolled further apart as Nai shoves Vash a few inches away to make room, and his icy eyes find yours too.

He doesn’t say anything, but you know. You hold your breath until Nai pulls his cock from you with a shuddering sigh, and the knives rattle and whir. Your vision blurs, and you get to cry for once - normally it’s over before you know it. He’s showing off, and Vash turns back when he hears your hiccups. “Shhh, don’t cry, baby. You’re so sweet, you’re so good. You’re going to save your big brother again.” He presses a messy kiss to your mouth and nuzzles into your jaw, and softly bites the fat of your cheek until your lips curl up. “I love you, love you so much. You’re so cute. So fucking cute.”

Your blood thumps through your veins up until Nai’s sawblade wraps around your upper thigh, and tightens, tighter than tight∼ It pinches your skin as the noises start to come, and the pinch gets more painful. So much- so much more, more painful— until- until he starts the spin and in one clean, excruciating second you feel the heft of your leg being snapped off. Blood sprays as skin is torn apart, and the wetness of your fresh spill makes an awful whiny noise of his knives. Aw. Aww, it fucking hurts. So bad. The bone splinters upon touch, and hot blood goes everywhere. The pain is sharp and faint and hot all at once, and you’re sick- you might throw up from nausea— it pierces your spine and makes your head pound and Vash is right there, holding your face to the pillow even though he’s turned to the action.

The adrenaline’s making your skin feel so tingly and tight and it hurts. It hurts. The skin and muscle was too easy, the bone makes you jerk. It hurts so bad you think your vision blacks for several seconds, until you come back to and Nai’s got a hand on your open wound and is leaning his upper body on your stomach, and Vash’s tongue is in your mouth— and the few breaths you manage to take are the only warning you get when the full force of your pain grinds like a million dull needles into every cell, stabbed into your spine, making your body flail. It makes you scream out loud, sharply ringing ears. 

Vash’s smell suffocates you a little. Nai pulls his hand away when it starts to steam, and the hot blood spills all over the cover on the bed until the healing kicks in. Your blackened vision doesn’t hide you from the fact that your dearest brothers switch places though— lets Nai by your face so that Vash can get a good look.

“So good. You’re always so good.” Nai’s long fingers cradle your head and run through your hair, gentler than he’s capable of. “I’ll just put in a few quick stitches, hm? Once you’re calmed down, you can help me with dinner. Niichan’s hungry too.”

“Okay,” you just respond, though your voice cracks when you try. Your amputated leg jerks, and itches at the ugly seam— and the mass of meat rolls when Vash settles between your legs. He brushes it tenderly, and you swear you can still feel the touch. Tears tickle at your lashline, but they escape down your nose instead of rolling out, and Nai caresses your cheek. You’re both watching in distracted interest as Vash’s blown out eyes find yours again, and he smiles at you with so much true gratitude. His blond hair is matted to his forehead, and he has to take a deep breath to even be able to speak.

“I love you.”

You love him too. You’d do it all for your big brothers. They saved you. He drips his hand into the pool of blood steaming up around your severed leg, and brings four red-coated fingers to his mouth to suck each one clean with a moan— before leaning down to press kisses from your pussy to your belly, red, hot blood covering his lips and chin.

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