#but I prefer for the form to keep it as I always do with this kind of exercices...

[demonboysdelight]

hiii, could I request Yandere poly saja boy headcannons?

Ofc! Enjoy and ty for requesting. :)

Yandere! Poly! Saja Boys Headcanons:

The Saja Boys have claimed you as theirs, and in their twisted, demonic minds, this arrangement is as natural as breathing. You're younger than them, which only intensifies their protective and possessive instincts, creating a suffocating web of obsession disguised as devotion. Each member brings their own flavor of yandere tendencies to this polyamorous nightmare, and together, they form an inescapable prison of love.

Jinu is the orchestrator of this obsession, the leader who convinced the others that you belong to all of them. His four centuries of existence have taught him patience, but when it comes to you, that patience has limits. He watches you with those dark, calculating eyes, always three steps ahead of any attempt you might make to distance yourself. When you're being "difficult," he'll corner you with that deceptively gentle voice, recounting how he abandoned his own family centuries ago—and how he'd do far worse to keep you. His manipulation is subtle but devastating; he'll make you feel guilty for wanting independence, reminding you how much they all love you, how they've given up their demonic duties just to focus on you. Jinu's jealousy manifests as cold control rather than explosive rage. If someone else catches your attention, they simply... disappear. He'll never tell you what happened, but the way he holds you afterward, whispering apologies against your hair while his grip leaves bruises, tells you everything. He's convinced that his love is redemption for his past sins, and you're his salvation—whether you want to be or not.

Mystery is the most unsettling in his obsession because you never know what he's thinking behind that curtain of silver-violet hair. He's the one who watches you sleep, sitting motionless in the corner of your room for hours, just observing the rise and fall of your chest. His love is silent but omnipresent—you'll find gifts you never asked for, letters written in elegant script that detail everything you did that day, photographs of yourself that you don't remember being taken. Mystery speaks to you in riddles and half-finished sentences, making you lean in closer to understand, which is exactly what he wants. His possessiveness is subtle but absolute; he's memorized your schedule, your preferences, your fears. When you try to make friends, Mystery has already spoken to them—not threatened, just... talked. Something about his presence, the way he never quite shows his full face, unsettles people enough that they distance themselves from you naturally. He'll curl up beside you like a cat, humming softly while running his fingers through your hair, and you can never shake the feeling that he's marking his territory.

Abby expresses his yandere tendencies through physical dominance and protection. He's the one who carries you everywhere, insisting you're too delicate, too precious to walk on your own. His massive frame becomes a prison disguised as a shield—he'll block doorways when you try to leave, scoop you up when you're "being stubborn," hold you against his chest until you stop struggling and accept his affection. Abby's jealousy is the most visible; his jaw clenches when others look at you, his muscles tense when you mention other people. He has no qualms about using his intimidating presence to scare away anyone who might take your attention. But with you, he's deceptively gentle, constantly asking if you're comfortable, if you need anything, while his hands remain possessively on your body. He'll work out shirtless in front of you, flexing deliberately, fishing for compliments and growing sulky when you don't give them. His room is filled with photos of you—candid shots of you laughing, sleeping, even crying. "You're so beautiful when you're sad," he'll murmur, wiping away tears he caused with his overwhelming presence.

Romance is the most deceptively sweet of your captors, showering you with gifts, love letters, and dramatic gestures that would be romantic if they weren't so suffocating. He's the one who plans elaborate dates that you can't refuse, who writes songs about you that become increasingly possessive in their lyrics. Romance's yandere nature manifests as emotional manipulation disguised as pure love. He'll cry if you seem unhappy, blame himself dramatically, threaten to hurt himself if you try to leave—all while looking absolutely beautiful doing it. His heart-shaped hair and pink aesthetic make him seem harmless, but he's perhaps the most dangerous because he makes you feel guilty for not appreciating his affection. Romance keeps a detailed journal of every interaction you have together, analyzing your moods, your words, looking for signs of wavering loyalty. He's the one most likely to stage situations to make you dependent on him—suddenly you're locked out of places you need to be, your phone mysteriously breaks, you find yourself stranded and needing rescue, and Romance is always conveniently there to save the day.

Baby is the most unpredictable and perhaps most frightening because his childlike appearance masks centuries of demonic cunning. Despite being the youngest in appearance, his obsession with you is disturbingly mature and calculating. He treats you like his favorite toy, something that belongs to him absolutely. Baby's tantrums when you don't give him attention are terrifying—furniture breaks, windows shatter, and his cute facade drops completely to reveal the ancient demon beneath. He's the most likely to hurt you "accidentally" during his possessive episodes, then cry and cling to you while the others clean up the destruction. Baby is also the most invasive; he goes through your belongings, reads your diary, listens to your phone calls. He justifies this by saying he needs to know everything about you to love you properly. His childish appearance makes others underestimate him, which he uses to eliminate threats to your relationship with terrifying efficiency. He'll sit in your lap during conversations with others, playing with your hair and making innocent comments that somehow manage to reveal personal information about the person that makes them deeply uncomfortable.

Together, they form a suffocating network of obsession. They share information about you, coordinate their schedules to ensure you're never alone, and enable each other's worst tendencies. Jinu makes the plans, Mystery gathers intelligence, Abby provides muscle, Romance handles emotional manipulation, and Baby eliminates loose ends. They've convinced themselves that loving you together is healthier than competing for you individually, but in reality, it just means you face five different types of yandere behavior simultaneously.

They justify their polyamorous arrangement by claiming that you're too precious for just one person to love, that you deserve multiple protectors, multiple sources of affection. But the truth is darker—each of them feeds off the others' obsession, validates it, makes it seem normal. When one of them goes too far, the others don't pull him back; they comfort you afterward and promise it won't happen again, all while planning how to better hide their tracks next time.

Your age makes their obsession even more intense. They constantly remind you how young you are, how much you need their protection and guidance. They've appointed themselves your guardians, your boyfriends, your everything, and they'll destroy anyone who suggests you might be better off without them. After all, they're demons who've lived for centuries—who better to protect and love someone as precious as you?

The most terrifying part is how genuine their love feels in quiet moments—when Jinu holds you during nightmares, when Mystery leaves your favorite flowers on your pillow, when Abby carries you when you're tired, when Romance sings softly just for you, when Baby falls asleep curled against your side. In those moments, you almost forget that their love is a cage, that their protection is imprisonment, that their devotion will ultimately destroy you. But then morning comes, and you remember that leaving was never really an option—not when five demons have decided that you belong to them forever.

[bones4thecats]

↳ Love in the Shadows of Parenthood V.

A Twisted Wonderland × Youth-Parent! Reader.

Chapters: Heartslabyul. Savanaclaw. Octavinelle. Scarabia. Pomefiore (here). Ignihyde. Diasomnia.

Characters Included: Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt, and Epel Felmier.

Prompt: "What of their S/O had a child before being with them?"

Possible trigger warning: Teenage pregnancy (all), Death of a partner/parent via car accident, drunk driving mentioned (Vil), An injured bird - nothing about child's dad here, a mystery like Rook himself (Rook), Toxic relationships, being cheated on, and attempted child kidnapped by parent (Epel).

●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●

👑 Vil was surprised when a little girl gripped his robes. He noticed her tiny hands were all decorated in bracelets, appearing handmade, and having purple nail-polish on. A small smile rose as he knelt down and picked up the young girl, asking where her parents were. 👑 He was even more shocked seeing you kicking a Savanaclaw student to the ground, demanding to know where your daughter was. Lucille, he discovered her name, jumped out from his arms and yelled out a loud mama.

👑 It was after Lucille introduced the two of you that you began to form a close bond. He would help you paint your daughters nails and do her hair anytime he was free and you needed help. If he wasn't, he'd send Rook to help with a bag of things for you. "A gift," he'd say. 👑 Vil and you became very close, so close that everyone, especially Rook, began to call you the Mother ad Father of Night Raven College. Though, Rook preferred to call each of you by certain, more personal nicknames; Roi du Poison and Père de la Petite Belle for Vil, Reine du Poison and Mère de la Petite Belle for you, and finally Princesse du Poison and La Petite Belle for Lucille. 👑 These nicknames would always make you smile, pushing through your touch exterior. Vil loved that part of you. The part that was vulnerable and would allow others to see how much they cared. He wondered why you were like that, but when you told him, he couldn't believe it.

The moon's light was vibrant, casting it's own shadows against any surface it could touch. It was beautiful bouncing against the diamond that was hanging from a chain around your neck. Anyone who saw it knew that. But, in the blonde man's mind, he didn't find that as beautiful as you relaxed face.

You held his arm tightly. It was as if you were scared he would disappear if you let him go.

Which made him wonder; where was Lucille's father?

So, he said your name. Cutting the silence in half, he looked at you with soft eyes. "Do you mind if I ask you a more personal question... about Lucille's biological father?"

Your eyes met his, the colors bleeding together as you sighed and let his arm go. Looking out to the grass below, your fists began to tighten. You grew the need to pop your knuckles and stretch your hands.

"You don't have to tell me right now. I'm just curious is all." He added, laying his hand atop yours softly.

"He and I dated since we were young teens; for four years, specifically. We had Lucille three years in, he was there for only the first year of her life before..." You gulped and began to tear up, which caught the Housewarden's attention.

"He uhm- he passed away from a car accident. Drunk driver hit him when coming home. I've been raising our daughter ever since. Heck, I keep a picture of her father in my phone case just so she can try remembering him." You said.

Vil looked at your hands, seeing you toy with your fingers. He reached out and grasped your hands. Interlocking fingers moving nicely against each other.

"I'm sure she'll remember him. Maybe not as well as she should or could have, but there is no doubt he made an impact in her life so deep she'll remember him forever."

Eyes moving from the grass to your boyfriend, the tears began to fall. "I love you so much, Vil."

"I love you too, dear. And Lucille."

🏹 Rook adores a lot, and he has a special spot for children in his heart. Growing up as the middle child allowed him to experience the world of being taken care of and taking care of others. So, when he found a young boy named Arawn, he felt the need to take care of the boy and find his mother. 🏹 Feeling a blade against his back, Rook smiled and let out a breath. "What a predicament we are now in, Petit Chasseur!" He chirped. Turning his body to be face-to-face with his assailant, his surprise rose when Arawn looked at you and jumped out of his arms to hug you. 🏹 After this meeting, Rook saw how much you cared for your son. Because of your first time interacting, he also found a desire to find out why you went to such lengths to keep your son safe. Love was definitely one of them, but the desire to know more infected him. 🏹 So he ended up being injected into your time in Twisted Wonderland. He would also become very influential to your son, the younger of the two viewing him as a father-figure. 🏹 While you didn't appreciate the hunter obviously stalking you both, you did appreciate how much of a good example he was providing for your son. The happy outlook he had infected your son, which you preferred him to have rather than the negative one others had.

The brush moved against the canvas gently, almost as if the brush itself was scared of breaking the base that was laid a day prior. Lime green paint decorated the soon-to-be grass while the wind blew. The artist behind the actions? Rook Hunt.

He smiled softly as he heard a folk song begin playing aloud. The music calmed him when he needed it.

And boy did he need that now.

Why? Because he was babysitting while you were out with Lilia Vanrouge.

"Papa Rook?" A young voice called.

The hunter turned around and placed the paintbrush in a cup of water to wash off. Standing behind him and holding a few leaves in his hands, was Arawn. Your son that he had become like a father too in the past few months, nearing year.

"I found something in the bushes. I think it's a bird."

Rook tilted his head and held his hands out to the little boy. "Allow me to see it." He spoke as soft as he could. And thankfully, Arawn did as he was asked.

Feeling feathers touch his bare hands, Rook stared at the flying specimen. Or rather, the specimen that would be flying now if it could. In his hands was a small bird with a damaged wing, most likely sprained due to it's position.

"Is it gonna be okay?"

"Mhm. All it needs to be observed for a while, just a mere sprain." He answered. "Would you like to carry him to the campus?"

Arawn nodded and extended his arms happily to take the animal from the older guy's hold. "Can we name him?"

"Maybe. What ideas do you have?"

🍎 Epel comes from a fairly traditional family. They believe that children need both parents for a healthy mindset, and while they could be considered right in certain fields, Epel found the beliefs slightly odd. He had friends that came from single-parent homes growing up, and thankfully, they were treated just as well as the kids from two-parent homes. 🍎 You were one of the people the family was weary about. Not because of your home, but the fact you had a son when you were only sixteen years old. It was foreign to them, hard to digest. 🍎 It was hard for Epel at first as well. But, after seeing you stand in front of your son, Braeburn, when approached by Crowley after arriving, he felt something attract him towards you both. Now, months later, you stood with your bundled-up son in front of his family. 🍎 They remained polite, and when you all settled down for diner, they had asked where the father of 'Burn (as Epel dubbed him). You sat at the table and went silent, catching Epel's attention. 🍎 His family exchanged glances afterwards. The way you stared at the slice of apple pie in front of you as if it had tried murdering you made them uneasy. Grandma Felmier smiled and rested her hand on yours, snapping you out of the daze. And she asked again, this time more polite than her children.

You looked off as your son began to play with Epel's cousin, using some toys to teach him about life on the farm growing up. The cousin noticed how the conversation moved towards a more serious area and took Braeburn away to allow you more freedom of speech.

"Hun'?" Epel called, grasping your hand to get your attention. "Do ya wanna talk about it? Ya don't have to if ya don't wanna."

"We'll understand if it's to private for ya." Epel's father said. His wife and other family members remaining nodded.

"No. I'll tell you guys. I am with Epel, you deserve to know just as much as him." You took a deep breath. Popping your fingers in a fist, you closed your eyes to calm down from the previous internal fight earlier.

Clearing your throat, you began to talk.

"Braeburn's father and I had an on-and-off relationship. The kind that a celebrity would have in a way. One week we'd be the perfect couple, one that others would envy, the next we're in each other's faces like professional fighters.

"Eventually, he snapped. He had an affair, one with my close friend. I snapped and told him to never contact my family, including our son. But he didn't want that. He broke into my home and tried to take Braeburn. After my father found him reaching to his grandson, he snapped and attacked him. Thankfully the police were called and he was taken away to jail for attempted kidnapping and other offenses brought up after and before the incident.

"I've tried keeping Braeburn as far as I can from his father or anyone like him for his own safety. Never really trusted anyone with him alone. Not until Epel came along actually."

Epel's eyes widened and cheeks flushed at the reveal. His mind swooned during the conversation. When you mentioned your ex having an affair, he almost exclaimed in anger. Who would do that to someone as awesome as you? Nonetheless to the mother of their own son? Only someone heartless in his eyes.

Then when you told them about your experience with Braeburn almost being kidnapped by his father, it was obvious from his balled up fist and constantly bouncing leg that he wanted to let everyone know how much he disliked your ex.

Now... knowing you trust others more with Braeburn just because of Epel's truthfulness and genuine personality warmed his heart to a temperature warmer than any summer day.

"That's awful what happened to Braeburn 'n ya back then, dear." Epel's mother said. "But, aah'm happy that epel helped ya with trustin' others."

"I'm proud of ya both for your growth." His grandmother expressed.

🌊 Copyright © 2025 by Bones4thecats on Tumblr. All Rights Reserved. 🌊

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Jaune: Hey ... Faunus were written to be an allegory for Civil Rights and Racism ... Is it wrong when We're turned into faunus to exhibit Animal behaviors, like, Hunting preferences, allergies, sturdiness, Heats, Etc?

Jaune: Like, isn't that jsut giving into the Racism?

Ruby: I understand where You're coming from , but the root of the issue lies in the Writing - and not just in our Universe.

Ruby: It's hard to have an allegory for Race when it's not about Race, it's about species.

Ruby: Faunus do have a Distinct advantage for the most part. be it some kind of natural weaponry like claws, incredible Night Vision or Hearing, or even something Niche like Gills. They're a bad racial allegory because they're just humans with some sort of +1 to a stat.

Ruby: In far too many pieces of media, Robots and Constructs that gain sentience are, physically, Tougher and Stronger than Humans, and are capable of Surviving much more than what Humans are- In Detroit become Human, the Androids can easily replace Limbs. In Overwatch, Several Omnics are straight up War Machines - Like bastion.

Jaune: Okay, Is there anything that does the Racism Allegory well?

Ruby: Splatoon.

Jaune: What?

Ruby: Splatoon. Squids VS Octopus, the whole deal is that, in a fight for what land there was on the surface, Squids won, Octopi were forced underground. Generally the View towards the Octopus were thought to be negative due to Y'know, history, but in the Second game, the Squids don't really care about whether someone has Eight Arms or not. They're Physiologically close enough to be equals.

Ruby: Hell, in the English Version, the DLC Antagonist straight up says He's disgusted with how the Squids and Octopi fight each other over incredibly minor genetic differences.

Jaune: Okay, Cool, What about Media that does do the Human/Nonhuman thing well?

Ruby: Uh ... I'll admit, I need to expand my horizons, but I've heard good things about K-Pop Demon Hunters?

Ruby: And Hell, if the concept isn't the bad thing, then Blake constantly Acting like a stereotypical cat and reaffirming the joke in Chibi. How can the Fandom be expected to respect what the source material doesn't.

Jaune: Fallout. Star Trek. Pokemon.

Ruby: Fair enough.

Jaune: ... Okay then, What would you change in our universe to make the Faunus VS Human thing better?

Ruby: That's a hell of a loaded question, but my idea is the make the Divide between Faunus and Humans even larger. make it worse.

Ruby: Most Faunus have more than one trait, And always an External one - Blake has Claws, Sun has more hair, Velvet has a rabbit's nose, so on and So forth - But specifically leave Ilia alone, or change where she is, what she does, but let her Blend in still. It takes Effort, but not as much as anyone else, so Ilia still looks human unless she uses her trait.

Ruby: And one thing that's never brought up is the Difference in CUlture! That's a MASSIVE thing in the real world! Arguably, that's the biggest thing in the World!

Ruby: Different Cultures with Different forms of Government, with different Histories.

Ruby: I get it, RWBY was started with more Amateur Writers, who understood they couldn't do the Civil Rights thing Justice and chose to back down instead of DoubleDown or Course Correct.

Ruby: I dunno. It's treated as a joke from the start. It's not up to the Writer to fix the origin, and since it's all fake, and the cast has a fair amount of diverse cultural origins and Blake's happens to be French or Italian, or something Central or Western European.

Ruby: Either the writer keep running with the joke, or they take the joke and start treating it seriously, and give it the respect it deserves.

Jaune: So It's simultaneously RWBY the Show's fault, the fault of it's Writers, and the Fault of the FNDM, but also None of them have the responsibility to Fix it?

Ruby: That's a very Dour, nihilistic, and overly simplified way of what I said, but that is the gist of it, I guess. I wish you put more thought into my words though.

Jaune: So it's My Responsibility to pick through your long winded, Flow-Of-Consciousness essay and determine what you meant by this needlessly complicated Dialogue?

Ruby: As much as It's my responsibility to rewrite it into a more Digestible and easily readable form.

Jaune: Well that's just a very pleasant Non-Answer, isn't it?

Ruby: Yes, yes it is.

[sulianachronism]

detention

James potter x Slytherin! Reader

SULI: a very small drabble— I actually didn't know where to start so.... Yeah take James Potter

WORD COUNT: 414 ( if you know my main account you know this is very rare )

WARNINGS: none

"Merlin, do you ever shut up?"

You slam a drawer closed, the sound echoing off the stone walls.

James scoffs from the shelf he’s supposed to be reorganizing. “Didn’t realize silence was your preferred love language, sweetheart.”

You shoot him a glare. “Don’t call me that.”

He grins, spinning a bottle of dried nettle between his fingers. “Touchy. Thought Slytherins were supposed to be all composed and mysterious. Not—what’s the word—hostile?”

“You bring it out in me.”

“Bet I do.” His grin widens. Smug. Unbearable. “I’m good at getting under people’s skin.”

“You’re a splinter in human form.”

He clutches his chest dramatically. “That almost hurt.”

You roll your eyes and turn away, but you can still hear him muttering as he shuffles through ingredients.

“Honestly, dunno what Slughorn was thinking. You’ve got the charm of a cursed broomstick.”

You spin back. “You’re one to talk. Your ego enters the room five minutes before you do.”

“I’m confident, darling.”

“You’re delusional.”

He leans back against the shelf, arms crossed, head tilted slightly as he studies you.

“You always get this prickly when you’re alone with me?” he asks, voice dripping with mock interest. “Or is this your way of flirting?”

You freeze. Then scoff. Loudly. “If I ever flirt with you, Potter, you’ll know. There’ll be a full moon. A prophecy. The world might end.

“Sexy,” he says, deadpan.

You hurl a tiny jar of powdered unicorn horn at him.

He catches it one-handed, still grinning. “Careful. You’re gonna start a war.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet…” He steps closer. Not close enough to be a threat, but enough to make your stomach clench in irritation—or maybe something else. “You still can’t ignore me.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re hard to ignore. Like a rash. Or a fire.”

“You think I’m hot?”

Your jaw clenches. “I think you should shut up.”

He smirks. “You keep telling me to, but you never seem to walk away.”

You stare at him. Annoyed. Confused.

And he stares right back.

No smile now. Just that maddening gaze. That bloody Gryffindor intensity like he’s trying to burn straight through your ribcage.

“…I hate you,” you whisper.

He tilts his head. “Say it louder. Maybe this time I’ll believe you.”

You shove past him, shoulder catching his on the way out, muttering, “Prick.”

But you don’t miss the way he exhales when you’re gone.

Or how your hand lingers on the door a second longer than it should.

[paramountinplace]

ADHD Van thoughts (below the cut) - Apologies if you've gotten bored of these, but I cannot stop thinking about this hc. As always, I am working through my inbox and I'm so sorry if I've left an ask unanswered for a long period of time! My goal is to get through most of them soon.

Gets super flustered when she realizes she's forgotten something important. She's used to her forgetfulness being met with hostility and that's not so easily unlearned, even when the others try to be very gentle with her about it. Being so flustered only serves to make it more difficult for her to remember stuff because she gets anxious about forgetting and focuses really hard on trying to keep details in her brain, which usually backfires when focusing too hard just ends up jumbling them all up in the wrong order.

Doesn't understand why she's able to quote 95% of Jurassic Park from memory but cannot for the life of her remember to grab her wallet when she's leaving the house. It's frustrating for her to have specific pockets of very detailed knowledge about things but struggle to remember very simple things like her debit card pin at the same time.

Has big time sensory issues with her clothing being too tight. Anything form fitting is a huge no and she can get really upset with the cinched waists of hoodies and jackets. Sometimes getting her out of the house is a hassle because she hates the feeling of one shoe being tied tighter than the other, but she also can't stand when they're too loose.

If she skips a step in her routine one time, she's about ten times more likely to forget it the next time and then the step will be inadvertently dropped from the routine. She skipped the mouthwash step of her nighttime routine one time and then suddenly realized that she it had been ages since she'd gotten the bottle out of the cabinet weeks later.

Leaves things like her keys, wallet, sunglasses, etc on random surfaces in the house (mostly the kitchen) because if she puts them in drawers, she'll either completely forget they exist or be totally unable to find them again. Lottie really prefers the house not to be so cluttered, so they put a 'Van bin' on one of the counters where she can dump all her stuff and no one else can move it. It comes as a slight shock to almost everyone else that she loses stuff way less after this because the bin itself is so cluttered, but it makes perfect sense to her.

It becomes second nature for cgs to make sure they have spare sets of ear defenders in their bags when they go out because the likelihood and Van remembering them is so low. They're not just useful for her, of course, but she's the most likely to space out and not grab them.

She gets a little surprised every time someone understands a reference she makes in an attempt to explain how she's feeling about something or blurts something out that, in all honestly, doesn't really make that much sense. Her whole face totally lights up when she realizes she's come across exactly how she's intended to.

Really likes music, but gets fixated on one or a few songs at a time and doesn't want to listen to anything but those songs. Nat burns her CDs and lets her use her portable player to listen to the songs so that the whole house doesn't have to hear the same three songs on repeat for hours.

Has a habit of repeating things that are said to her as a means of giving herself an extra second to process the words. It's so second nature she doesn't always realize she's doing it.

"Van, can you pick up some paper towels when you go out later?" "Can I pick some paper towels when I go out later?" "Ye—" "Sure!"

She's not actually looking for a response—she's just processing. It gets a little confusing if she inflects like it's a question, but she's just sounding it out to herself. They all pick up on that after a while.

"Van, go pick up the dinosaurs, please." "Pick up the dinosaurs?" "The ones—" "'Kay."

[sassenashsworld]

Nick stuck in his office

(mew?)

The List

It’s been a while. It’s been a long time since things have changed.

Things.

Nick leans on the back of his chair, gazing out in the void. He remembers when the first change occurred in his life. The first moment he felt something... abnormal. It was the very moment when the door to vault 114 opened, not on a thug but on a vault dweller. A vault dweller in a vault has something funny in itself in the situation he was in. Then he find that this very person, as they went out of their way to get his poor little synth ass out of his dead end, was also getting the Minutemen out of the dust of their oblivion.

They had come a long way. On the trail of Kellogg, Virgil... the Institute... And some detours along the way to help all the poor lost souls they encounter.

"Nick, did you finish with the Fyfe file?" suddenly asks his secretary, Ellie.

Nick quickly returns to the present, startled from his reverie.

“Uh, yeah..yeah.” He stands up from his chair and crosses the office to Ellie, placing some sheets of paper onto her desk. “Sorry for that; I wasn’t paying attention.”

"Obviously. But, eh, that's my job to keep you back on track. What do you think?"

“Yeah, yeah, I know...” Nick shakes his head and sighs, “Just thinkin’...” He glances at the file on Ellie’s desk. “...the Fyfes are a real piece of work, huh?”

“Yes.” She looks down at his notes. “They had what they were seeking—never listening to their son.”

“Damn fools for not listenin' to the damn kid,” Nick mutters under his breath, leaning against Ellie’s desk.

"But what a chance they fall on the Great Synth Detective and his assistant," she remarks, a thin smile on her face. “Where is Sole anyway?”

Nick tries to keep his voice unwavering.

“Sole’s gone to meet with Preston about something. Didn’t tell me much, but somethin’ about a missing persons case, I think?”

"And they didn't ask you to tag along?" Is surprise Ellie.

And Nick, as well. He was surprised that Sole didn't ask him. Sole always asks him since... since they first met and teamed up. Never seems to be a day since when Nick doesn't travel with Sole. Or Sole works with Nick.

Nick frowns, feeling a tinge of confusion and worry in his heart.

“Yeah… Guess they didn’t... thought... it's... odd.”

Usually, Sole always wants him to tag along if they’re going off on some sort of case, especially if it was a missing persons case. They’d always ask him to join them if that was the case. Why didn't they invite him this time?

“Maybe they wanted to just chat with the Garvey man alone...” Nick tries to offer as an explanation to Ellie’s words, but he can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right.

Why hadn’t Sole asked him to come along?

Nick tries to shake off the resentment that is trying to make room in his core. Or his processor. He still has difficulty locating his emotions in a... synthetic body... with a human mind.

One soul?

Sole seems adamant on the subject. Since they and Nick closed the case of Eddie Winter, Sole no longer lets Nick down talk himself. Nick can hardly use self-mockery without the General riding on their big horse about it.

Nick lets a small chuckle escape his lips as he thinks of the many times Sole had reprimanded him for speaking down upon himself. He can practically hear their voice scolding him, their hand on their hip, their eyebrow raised, disapproving of his cynical tongue.

Ellie raises an eyebrow at his chuckle.

"Some funny though?"

Nick shakes his head, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Just remembering some of the times I’ve been scolded by the Sole Survivor for my cynical tongue. Always gettin’ on my ass for my bad habits.”

"Just good they do," she answers, getting her attention back on the paper to classify. "At least, you listen to them."

Yes. Nick can't deny it. He listens to them. He is even surprising himself. He never really listens since... since he wakes up as a synth. How could a human relate to him? He even attempted to reason with Sole a few times, but his friend held a completely different perspective on the situation. Nick had really a hard time wrapping his mind around the stubbornness of Sole on this matter.

"I don't need to be a synth with the long-lost memory of a man to know you ARE your own man and a good one. And that you deserve all the better."

He closes his eyes and sighs; he can hear Sole’s voice in his mind, their words echoing around his programming.

“Damn stubborn bastard,” he mumbles quietly, but he has a small smile on his face as the memories of his friend and all the things they’ve done together flood his mind.

The case of Jack Cabot... The Institute... The Railroad... Nick and Sole had been through so much together; he’d grown so accustomed to their presence... He wondered if his friend was doing alright.

Ellie returns her gaze to him.

"You are worse than ever, you know? I am accustomed to your zone-out and your self-mumbling. But today, you really appear elsewhere. You sure are alright?"

Nick doesn’t answer for a few seconds, silently contemplating Ellie’s question. Was he alright? He couldn’t be sure of that for himself.

“Yeah, yeah… everything’s fine.  Just... ah... somethin’ on my mind,” he responds after a while, still remaining leaned against her desk.

His secretary frowns, but Nick shakes his head and returns to his own desk, looking in his drawer for a pack of cigarettes.

“It’s dinnertime. You should get something to eat,” he recommends to his secretary.

"Is there another elegant method to request solitude for your menacing thoughts?"

Nick grimace. He could not say that his thoughts are dark. Just... strange... almost nostalgic.

“Oh, shut up, I don’t need you fussin’ and prying into my thoughts,” Nick mutters, half jokingly.

He fishes a cigarette out of his pack, places it between his lips, and lights it. His eyes wander around the room, not focusing on or even really looking at anything in particular.

The young woman sighs and gets up.

“Need anything? A schedule with Arturo for a tune-up?”

Arturo no longer regularly performs Nick's tune-ups. Sole is so much a hell of an engineer. Arturo has made it, but Sole is just... a high class over.

Nick shakes his head, taking a long drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke billow from his mouth.

“No, no. I’m fine.”

His eyes wander back over to the door, as if expecting it to burst open and for his friend to stride in, a smile on their face. But there was no such thing. Nick tries not to feel disappointed. He had no reason to. He glances at the clock above the door. When would they be back?

Ellie finally leaves the office, letting Nick all alone. Why did the detective feel like that? What is he feeling exactly? When did it really have begun? He is really puzzled about himself just now.

Being alone with his thoughts was not a beneficial thing in the end. He couldn’t keep his mind from going over the times he and Sole have spent together; he couldn’t stop wondering why they hadn’t asked him to come along on their trip to the Commonwealth, and he kept worrying something terrible was going to happen to them.

Nick lets out a heavy, frustrated sigh. He’d probably just sit here worrying his ass off until they return.

Nick sighs again and takes a seat in his chair. He takes another drag from his cigarette; the smoke plumes out of his mouth.

He should be used to being alone. He’d been alone for the most of his existence, only really having Ellie and the occasional client to talk to.

He’d gotten used to having Sole around, though, he’d gotten so used to having them near and always around.

Damn it, why did he feel so worried and weird about them leaving?

The door opens again, and Nick doesn't even bother to look in it's direction at first.

“Forget somethin', Ellie?” He asks, taking another drag from his cigarette before finally looking up towards the door.

He quickly stops himself before his next sentence when he sees that it’s not Ellie who has returned.

“Sole...” Nick mutters, feeling slightly surprised and confused.

His coolant as his processor speed up slightly, which he tried to ignore. He didn’t understand why it did that, but it usually does in situations like this. He places his cigarette down.

“Nick, sorry. I know you should have worried, but I will explain you all,” they swiftly tell him with a smile.

Nick can’t help but smile back at them, their smile brightening his entire world. The strange anxiety, worry, and confusion he was feeling just a few minutes ago seems to melt away. His circuits warm up at the sight of his friend; his core is almost leaping, his fans drifting up faster and faster. Damn it, why did they always have this effect on him?

Why did they make him feel like this?

Nick clears his throat after a few seconds.

“Ah… welcome back. Thought you were Ellie for a minute, heh…”

He stands up from his chair and approaches them, stuffing his hands into his trench coat pockets.

And Sole is just eager to tell him all they’ve gone through, as always. And Nick is just eager to hear it all.

As Always.

And as Nick stands in front of them, he realizes just how much he’s missed them, how much he’s missed spending time with them and talking with them just like this.

Their smile, their laugh, their eyes...

Damn it. He missed them more than he liked to admit.

And as his friend brightly smiles up at him, Nick finally understands.

Everything falls into place.

All his questioning finds an answer.

As the smile of Sole warms up all his old, beaten-up circuits, Nick understands that the reason why he is so trouble lately is because Sole has finally given something to his synth life he never had before.

Nick is happy.

[the-bitter-truth]

[Celestial Body]

🇯​​🇺​​🇵​​🇮​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​

You crave adventure and wisdom. a knowledge seeker, you love to read and you might not like school but you appreciate the opportunity to attain new information. for you, we are all here to live and learn, and you want to experience all the possible opportunities on this planet-- you also have a good sense of what is right and wrong, and you stick to the facts when it comes to arguments. you seek a life that gives you new surprises at every turn, and you won't be scared. you know you're ready. however, you often get too wrapped up in the logic of things and neglect your personal life. sometimes you don't know when to stop. every once in a while, when you're wrapped up in feeling like you must do Everything, take a step back, and know that you have time. your life will be fulfilling. take pride in the small things.

Tagged by: @huijarii , thank you! Tagging: @unfxithful, @herotheism (Topaz), @aequitaes (Adventurine), @visvivae (Ophelia or Ciaccona), and whoever sees :)

[doctapuella]

i appreciate that my coworker is bored and "just trying to make conversation" but i am not someone who can respond well to things like "whats your favorite food" "whats the last song you listened to" "whats the big story in wrestling" these are things i can only discuss with my closest dearest friends (you all) and not something i can just pop off a quick little banter with!!!!

[dravidssideblog]

Finally, a cheap, at-home treatment for perma-tf! And best of all, it's counted as healthcare for tf victims, so you get your first box for free! Victims of virus outbreaks and pranks taken too far rejoice all over the world!

It's just, the medicine is kind of a pain. You have to take it twice a day, at the same times every day, and you can't eat anything for an hour before or after taking it. It only works if you take it every day; if you take it inconsistently, then you're basically just wasting it, and you'll need to buy another box and try again. It takes weeks to see significant effects, and 2 whole months to fully detransform. And it's grape flavored, but that awful kind that doesn't taste anything like grapes!

But you gotta take it to detransform. And you want to detransform. Even though it's hard. Even though it's so much easier to accept it. Even though you could just do nothing.

[deepspacedarling]

Sitting on Caleb's Face

Warning: Cunnilingus

AN: @his_lily00 on tiktok inspired this little ditty. I love you girl, stay freaky, never change.

Caleb x reader

He's been asking for weeks for you to sit on his face. He already enjoys eating you out but he's never gotten you to climb on top of him like that.

If you're worried about being too heavy, he immediately waves the thought away. If you're REALLY worried about being too heavy, he promises to use his evol to make sure you don't crush him.

When you finally agree, he drops everything he's doing and lays down right then and there. It doesn't matter if he's in the living room or the bedroom, he's finally getting exactly what he wants and he's not going to give you a chance to second guess yourself.

He prefers if you just push your panties aside to let him eat you out. He likes when you keep them on during sex and this is no different. There's something hot about just pulling them to the side and fucking you. Like he can't wait the extra three seconds to take them off of you. He needs to have you right now.

When he finally gets his tongue inside you, it's perfect. He's always been good about eating you out. He enjoys it a lot. But something about you being on top of him while he does it really gets him going. Your soaking wet pussy just drips directly into his mouth and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Every little noise you let out just makes him want to bury his face further into your pussy. When you grab a fistful of his hair and try to rock your hips onto his face, he groans so loud you're sure the neighbors heard him.

Slowly but surely, you can feel your body beginning to move. It isn't until his face is buried in your pussy that you realize he's not using his evol on you anymore.

If you try to get up, he's digging his fingers into your thighs to keep you in place. He'll use his evol again if only to make sure that you. don't. move.

Can he breathe? Who cares. He doesn't. He's in heaven right now and if going to Heaven means he gets to stay there, that's a sacrifice he's willing to make.

He's curling his tongue inside you, tasting everything that he can't. He can't get enough of the way you taste. He usually pretty vocal in bed but he's extra vocal right now. This is all he's ever wanted.

He sucks on your clit a little too hard and you cum hard enough to see stars. You pull harder on his hair and the mix of the pain from his hair and your pussy clenching around his tongue makes him cum without a single touch to his cock.

He keeps sucking until you're a whining mess on top of him. He cums longer than he's used to and there's a large stain quickly forming on his pants.

From that moment forward, he'll whine and beg for you to sit on his face more often. He's already gotten a taste for it, he wants more.

Requests are Open!!

[traffys-heart]

one piece men + tits or ass? | nsfw

one piece guys and whether they prefer tits or ass. this progressively got dirtier and dirtier the more i wrote and u can probably tell who my favorite characters r from how i wrote everyone haha. (ᵕ—ᴗ—) pls heed the warnings and enjoy!

characters: monkey d. luffy, roronoa zoro, vinesmoke sanji, portgas d. ace, sabo, eustass kid, killer, trafalgar d. law

cw: lowercase, afab! reader, pervert! sanji, mention of suicide, cunnilingus, rimming, nasty! kid, virgin! loser! law,

monkey d. luffy

i think luffy would be an ass guy contrary to popular belief with other head cannons ive seen. sure the other girls have great chests but its the way u swing ur hips to brook’s songs that make the tips of ears burn. he’s pretty cheeky so u would have to keep an eye on him esp when ur wearing anything that accentuates ur backside. he would probably take advantage of his gum gum fruit and cop a feel even from longer distances too. overall he is not very discreet and would probably embarrass the two of u front of the crew. (move it to the bedroom!)

roronoa zoro

zoro is an ass guy. i think we all saw that coming. he’s someone who takes pride in his form as well as his physique and i think that goes for a potential partner as well. working out together and seeing u lift weights with the full force of ur thighs and glutes is quite the sight. now thats something he can admire. moss head will pop a boner if he stares too long but that’s okay bc his own sweaty muscles r calling ur name.

vinesmoke sanji

ugh sanji is such a titty loving loser. he adores ur chest and it doesn’t even matter what u wear. u could be wearing the thickest wool sweater and the guy’s line of sight would still fall to ur breasts. don’t get him wrong tho, he’s still a gentlman. just one that would absolutely get on his hands and knees and beg u to flash him. as the ship’s resident pervert he is always praising nami and robin for their choice of outfit and hoping u will join them in their skimpy fashion. even the slightest bit of cleavage or underboob would kill this man and he is every bit suicidal.

portgas d. ace

ace is undecided. he genuinely couldn’t choose even if u pointed a sea stone blade to his neck. too much woman to love. as someone who is shirtless w only shorts most of the time he can appreciate a partner who isn’t afraid to show a little skin. there is nothing hotter to him than seeing the way ur body peaks through the fabric, almost daring him to get a better look. low neck-lined tank tops and short shorts would get him fired up faster than his devil fruit.

sabo

sabo is a tits man. i also think he’s someone who loves to dress up their partner in the most beautiful gowns. the best part of the dress would be the corset. it’s a difficult piece of clothing, most commonly worn by aristocrats, yet he finds it alluring on u, especially the way it cinches ur waist in and puffs out ur breasts. silk and whalebone press into ur spine as sabo peppers ur collarbone w kisses. the hour glass figure molded into ur body is so ravishing he considers taking u right there.

eustass kid

this is an ass man r u kidding me. eustass kid is nasty. when he sees a baddie w a fattie he knows exactly what to do. he wants u bent over his knee and humping his thighs. he loves watching u squirm and seeing the jiggle in ur butt as u attempt to reposition urself. he will eat ur pussy out from the back to get what he claims is the ‘best view’ of ur behind and make sure to rim ur cute asshole too.

killer

if eustass kid is a nasty ass man, then killer is a soft titty man. im sure u guys wanted something heavy for him too but hear me out. the mask stays on. he is just too shy to show his face, even to u. to make him feel better u hitch up ur shirt and bra and flash ur perfect tits his way, turning his whole face red (not that u would know) he’s so gentle when he plays w them too, kneading them and ever so softly pinching ur nipples under his calloused fingers. maybe ur moans will convince him to lift up his mask and suck on ur nipples like they’re clearly begging him too.

trafalgar d. law

um law is just an awkward guy. he is a virgin loser who has never seen a woman naked and if u r the unfortunate soul who gets to be the first u better strap in. im going to say he’s a tits guy just for the reason that during ur first time u don’t get past each others pants. he’s way too caught up ogling ur chest and committing the flesh to memory. he’s seen breasts in textbooks obviously but this is nothing like the anatomy graphic. anyways yea u basically teach him to make out and he plays w ur boobs and probably jerks himself off to the thought of everything later.

[yan-randomfandom]

How would yandere saja boys react to reader being a child of Gwi ma, but is nothing like him as in they want to help people?

Saja Boys x Demon!GN!Reader

a/n; i keep missing in my fics, i keep forgetting the plot!! so sorry anon,, i don't know what i'm trying to do in this one (⁠´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠) but i do love the new scenario!! tho sadly this isn't obviously yandere,,

— 👑

"Dying king with a crumbling crown," you hum, a teasing smile stretching across your feline lips. "Will he let the fire go out?"

Jinu sighs, absentmindedly plucking his strings. "As much as I love seeing two tigers, I think it'd be best if you take another form. It's creepy watching you talk with its teeth."

With a chuckle, you shapeshift into his bird instead, licks of fire dying as soon as it appeared. You made sure to keep the tiny hat on. "Yeah, sure, okay. Hey, that was a pretty bold move to your king. Y'know, my creator."

One of his demon companions snort. You snap your eyes toward the one with abs. "That's Jinu for you. Knows what he wants, knows what Gwi-Ma wants. As it's always been."

Jinu doesn't react, he doesn't reply—yet, you and the rest of the Saja Boys could tell he's deeply uncomfortable. He continues his focus on his bipa.

Baby coughs. "Look, I'll do the rapping, yeah?"

"I already said that—"

... After a while, you stare blankly as they get lost in their planning. Listening to every word. Paying attention to their movements. You can barely contain the frown itching to crawl on your—oh, wait. You have a beak.

"Master," Mystery suddenly calls, poking a finger on your wing.

You make an expression with your beady eyes. "Do not call me that. What is it, Mystery?"

His lips curl. "Why are you here?"

All your six eyes blink. The rest seem to be intrigued for your answer.

Of course, you're here to disrupt their plans. You don't say that out loud. Always so grateful that you and Gwi-Ma have cut connection, so even he can't hear your spirits.

"I believe I don't need to answer you," you shrug, earning some looks. You flatter your wings and stand on Mystery's shoulder instead. His smile grows. "Just keep doing your magic."

— 🐦‍⬛

You wonder what the Huntrix girls are doing right now.

Probably better than... whatever this is.

"Gwi-Ma is going to be so disappointed in us."

"What? No! The opposite! He'd be so impressed, we'll never have to be punished—"

"Master's waiting for us to move already."

Gwi-Ma this. Gwi-Ma that. Even if you're the literal spawn of the guy, it's still such a bummer with him being the only topic in this damn world. Well, aside from famine and destruction of your kind. Okay. Enough of this. You have to check on the girls.

Jumping off of Mystery's shoulder, you shift into your true form, pink fire dancing in your silhouette.

You thought you could quietly leave but—

"Where are you going?" comes Jinu's voice, inquisitive. Suspicious, almost.

Romance cast you a look. "You haven't even seen our rehearsal yet! Or, maybe, you'd like to see it live—"

You flow your fire to Romance's side, patting his head in reassurance. "I'll be there."

Maybe that's good enough to be convincing. Then, you leave.

— 🔥

In one of the farthest seat of the stadium, you sit and watch as the Huntrix practice for their performance. Put simply, they're amazing. You always did prefer acapella from the girls.

You've taken a human form, hopefully that will be enough for them to lay off if they spot you. Act like one of the staff who's slacking or whatever.

"So this is where you are," a familar deep voice mutters, and you immediately shoot up a hand to their face. A face that's come from a half-body in the seat next to you, the Honmoon tear strong in your senses.

Between your startled glare and fingers, Baby smiles in curiousity as his eyes glow. "I'm a little hurt. Didn't know you prefer the hunters."

You relax. Okay, cool. He found you spying on Huntrix. "No one will believe you."

A cough. You follow the noise on the floor and find three out of four other Saja Boys. Abby, Romance, and Mystery stares at you with something in their expressions—completely unreadable.

"Does Gwi-Ma know you're—"

Hmm. Darn. You interrupt whoever spoke. "Why are you all here? Did you come to look for me?"

You turn, seeing Baby's immense stare on you. But he doesn't answer. None of them do.

... Weirdos.

"Where's Jinu?"

Baby pauses, then points at the other side of the area.

You follow his direction and Jinu barely meets your eyes.

A frown makes its way to your lips. This human... This human is a wonder. You have Gwi-Ma's memories—while the others are fairly content with their sins, you know Jinu's so much more complicated than that.

Honestly. He'll know about Rumi's patterns in one way or another.

Someone pokes your cheek.

You sigh. "Mystery, stop doing that."

"Ah, no, I'm Abby. You're acting weird."

You? Acting weird? Haven't you always been? You look down on your patterns. An intricate design and color unlike the others.

The weight of your memories — not even yours, really — rumbles in the pit of your core. You don't like what you are, or where you are, or who you are. But, at the same time, you care so much. It's hard to think.

"I'm not answering that," you say eventually, using your higher position whenever convenient.

—

errmm my bad, also im trying to combine asks as I go ... hrrmmm eeemm hmmmm it's not working well

i tried to go with demon reader (anon1) and reader who hates the saja boys but loves huntrix (anon2) but for this one—they just really don't like what they stand for

[plethorawrites]

hey! what about clark who always makes you ride him because he’s afraid that with him on top he might hurt you cause he’ll lose control of his powers?

Oookkayyy. I believe I'm veering into some very precarious territory, lmao. But, yess, I do have thoughts! (NSFW content)

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Despite the fact that Clark Kent was 6'3 (while slouching), 225 pounds, and otherwise incredibly built, he was perhaps the least physically intimidating person alive. In fact, he was practically terrified of his own features—the same ones that made you utterly melt.

It wasn't until you discovered his identity as Superman that you realized the reason his hands never actually touched you during hugs, and he preferred you holding his arm over holding hands with each other. He was afraid. He always had been, in a way, but it was usually manageable.

That was because he wasn't trying to pursue a relationship.

You were affectionate, craving attention in whatever form possible, from cuddling on the couch to just grazing his pinky with yours while at lunch. And you wished he would return it more than he did. He wanted to. He really did. It was just so damn hard when he was terrified to hurt you. He'd never forgive himself if he did something that harmed you in any way.

The more physical your relationship became, the harder it became to reduce contact to the minimum amount he could get away with. You wanted more and so did he. But he could crush you without even meaning to, break your bones by just holding your hips, maybe even something worse than both of those things.

No, if you needed intimacy, he would gladly give it to you, since he wanted it just as badly, but he'd refrain from doing anything that could cause you even the slightest bit of discomfort or harm. You, being on top, was the only sensible answer.

Not to mention, incredibly attractive.

You always were, but there was something about the angle, about him just laying there, staring at you, watching you get lost in your own euphoria that drove him insane. The way your hair kept falling into your face, your fingernails kept digging further into the skin of his shoulders or chest, how your eyes sparkled brighter than usual.

To say nothing of how you actually felt, your hips soft against his bare skin with every slight roll you made, grinding against him slowly to prolong your time together as long as possible.

He could barely handle your usual smile, but the one you were giving him right now, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to suppress a little huff of laughter made his heart clench.

"What?" He wondered, his breathing a bit heavy. He was doing a terrible job of keeping his composure and was pretty sure you could tell.

You shook your head, your hands planted firmly on his chest while admiring the way his head always tilted when he was curious. "Nothing," you mumbled, the word taking a little while to find since you had to focus enough to remember how to speak. "You just..." Your lips pursed as one especially long drag of your hips made your breath hitch. "... You're like a pillow prince." You teased a moment later.

Clark's mouth dropped a little, in surprise but not offense. You weren't exactly wrong. He was laying there, his hands behind his head, watching you do all the work, like always. But it wasn't because he wanted to. In fact, he was itching to touch you, to feel your soft skin under his hands and it was taking all his restraint not to flip you over. He just couldn't risk it.

"Maybe I just like the view," he replied, his hips jerking up slightly when he felt you clench around him. His jaw tightened at the sensation, his eyes fluttering closed as he reveled in the feeling for a moment. "You—" he swallowed, his eyes opening. "—are you so perfect on top of me."

Another bashful smile spread across your face as you dropped your head and resisted the urge to move your hair, afraid that if he moved his hands, he'd lose control entirely.

"You like watching me struggle," you muttered, your hands moving to his shoulders to grip them tightly, your movements slowing to a stop, trying to catch your breath. "Admit it..." You panted. "... you're a sadist."

He laughed, his body shaking under you. "It's alright, sweetheart," he assured you. "You're doing good for me."

You hummed slightly at the praise, closing your eyes for a moment. "It's exhausting," you admitted, your legs killing you despite the enjoyment. "Always so... difficult."

"I know," he responded sympathetically, hesitantly removing his hands from behind your back, hovering them over your thighs for a while, contemplating before carefully setting his hands on them. He just couldn't resist anymore. You were too damn tempting.

You moved your hands to cover his, a small smile tugging at your lips. "You gonna help me, for once?" You murmur, trying to joke but failing. The words came out with too much lust for that.

He nodded slightly, focusing on making sure his fingers didn't accidentally dig into your skin too hard. "Tell me," he said seriously, staring into your eyes. "The second I take it too far."

You nodded, leaning down to kiss him. "You're not going to hurt me," you whispered. "I trust you."

[nkogneatho]

— 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖, 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐍

—characters: gojo, toji, geto, sukuna, nanami, choso

—cw: lactation ofc, fem!reader, nicknames, aphrodisiac (the milk), intoxication, masturbation, semi-public, dry humping.

—a/n: i have officially surprised myself with how insane i can really be. ya gurl so thirsty she created her own universe where men gib milkies 🧍🏽‍♀️

introduction to the universe:

Evolution took place a little differently in this universe. A mutation caused hormonal presence that triggers monthly lactation in men for 3 to 5 days, and it usually starts in their early 20s. It is studied that it does not serve any purpose of feeding like female lactation, but might be an indicator to arousal, and even a mating call due to accurate findings of natural aphrodisiacs in the milk produced by the thin gland located in a breast. It also pains a lot and causes swelling of nipples. While scientific advancements have yet to develop a pill that might solve this problem, the most effective natural method to be proven is letting another person suck it.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

It had been quite a long day at work. You knew you were the last to arrive home when you found his boots messed on the floor.

“Toru?” You called out his name, failed to receive a response. “Toru, baby, ' m home.” The wooden door of the shoe cabinet creaked as you closed it after placing the footwear in their place.

The house smelled…sweeter, felt warmer than usual. Making your way to the bedroom, you found clothes scattered on the floor near the entrance. The door was ajar which means your eyes had quick access to what was happening.

“Fuck! Ah! Ah! Mhmm.” You watched in surprise as your boyfriend kept fisting his cock, but wait. Something was different. You moved closer and found his hands squeezing his tits, milk oozing and drenching his naked body. But his heat doesn't arrive until next week. You thought. It was not uncommon for heats to arrive irregularly. It only meant that his hormone level had increased due to sexual frustration. Your eyes scanned his position, his movements. A hand reaching down to rub the wetness forming between your legs. You couldn't take it anymore.

“Need a hand?” You asked, announcing yourself in the room to let the man know he wasn't alone.

“Oh fuck! I thought I locked the door,” he panicked, yet he didn't remove his from his cock, just another arm covering his chest.

“And deprive me of this treat? I don't think so, baby.” You walked closer until you were hovering over him, kissing softly. Heat always has Satoru acting needy and you knew it.

“Touch me, doll. Please.” You smiled at his eagerness.

“I will do more than just touch.” Slapping his wrist away that were blocking the view of his lovely tits, you pushed him until he was laying flat. Your clothed pussy grinding in his naked cock as you leaned and took one of his nipples in your mouth.

“F-fuck.” he stuttered. “Don't. I am early this month. The flow is too much—ngh—you'll get high.” As if that was going to stop you? You started sucking more aggressively. He was right. The flow really was too much because you found yourself gulping a mouthful of his sweet milk, as your other hand reached down jerked his cock.

“Baby…ah! Keep doing that. I am close.” He is so silly to think he can relieve himself on his own when it never works. “Holy fhhuuck! Gonna c—aahhh!” You watched as he arched his back, white spurts covering your hands and other white liquid wetting your jaw. You sat up, removing your top as you already felt dizzy.

“We're not done, Toru. Wan'you to fuck me nasty while I suck your milk.” And he was hard again at your words.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

You loved spring. It was your favorite season to go out. Not too cold. Not too hot. Just the perfect amount of wind and sun. Apparently, it is also a perfect season for outdoor dates. You and Toji preferred to stay in most of the time but the cherry blossoms were too precious to be enjoyed from your windows or TV screen.

“Toji, you ready?” you asked your husband, packing things in your cute pink purse.

“Uhm, princess? Think we might need to cancel the date.” His muffled voice emerged through the bedroom.

“What?” You yelled as you stomped to the bedroom. “What do you mean we might need to c—oh…" Your legs stopped, body taken aback as you stared at his shirtless body, tone muscles and triceps flexing as he squeezed his tits, squirting the milk out.

“I am over-lactating.”

“What happened to the breast cups?”

“Look at me princess. 'm leaking too much. They ain't gon' hold it. Agh fuck!” He spat angrily as you watched the milk travel down his abs, covering it in sweetness.

“Fuck the date. I have a better plan.” You winked at him.

“Shit. Calm down, ma—ugh. Y'er gonna bruise my tits." You were riding his cock, rocking your body back and forth on his crotch while sucking his swollen dark peachy nipples. Your hands struggled to hold his chest because they were bigger than it, causing your nails to dig into the skin.

“Mmh lvove yvour mwilk shwo mwuch.” Your dirty muffled comments vibrating on his skin.

“Y'er drunk, ma. Ya like to get drunk on daddy's milk, hmm?” He cooed, planting a spank on your ass.

“Lwove it.”

“Hm mhh,” he chuckled. “Nasty fucking girl. Move—ahh! Move faster. Need to cum.” You followed his orders, not looking up once to meet his eyes but busy soaking in the drug and flavor of his milk.

“Ngh—twoji, too much. Wan' a break.” You complained, but he was not going to let you stop. This was your plan after all.

“Nuh uh! Don't pull that now.” He grabbed your ass and started bouncing them up and down. You felt so insides bursting with pleasure, cheeks burning up, eyes rolling back. “Gonna cum, ma. Make sure this pussy drinks all my cum as you stuff your mouth with my milk—gahh! fhuck fhuck! fuuuuck!” He was talking as if you had a choice when one of his hand forced you down on his cock as he painted your hole in his cum, while the other hand pushed your face further against his tits. He watched as milk overflowed from the side of your lips. “Such a good girl f'me. You wan' more?”

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

Sukuna tend to get a bit crazier when he was in heat. He fucked you with more strength, came a lot more than usual. It was hard to keep his mood balanced. You tried to suggest him some diet during those days of the month, but he refused to eat greens. A big man like him fancies flesh. Furthermore, why does he need a diet when he has the most proven effective method?

“K-kuna…agh! Too biiig." You cried. Sukuna had you on top of him, his big body splayed on the king-size bed—that surprisingly was almost the same size as him—your thighs trembling, kneecaps digging the mattress as you struggled to keep hi dick inside. Your head was telling you to get off it. Yet, your tight little cunt craved more of him.

“Hmm,” he chuckled. “Your pussy has a habit of biting more than she can swallow.” His teases were humiliating. Your hands rested on his chest, tongue reminiscing the sweet taste of his milk. Even though you were not completely dominant in this relationship—it is hard to be one when you are dating a man like sukuna—there were times when you initiated the things he would usually pester you about. Your lustful eyes gave him a look he hadn't seen before. Soon, he felt your hands tightening around his tits. Now he knew what you were up to.

“Want a taste, my woman?” All you could do was give a light nod because most of your strength was busy rolling your waist on his cock. “Go ahead. Suck my milk out.”

Without a second thought, you found your lips kissing his puffy pink nipples. You could feel the veins throbbing as you were suckling his juice out. Sukuna's milk was sweet with a hint of tanginess. Nevertheless, you loved it.

“Shhit! Calm down woman. I am not going anywhere.” His words were just background noise to you because all you could hear is squelching of your pussy and your slurps on his tiddie.

“Mmghh! Don't tell me you're planning on getting drunk.” His shoulders adjusted themselves to get a better position. “If you are—fuck. Then don't expect me to go easy tonight.” You unlatched your mouth from him for what seemed like after fifteen minutes to finally speak.

“Want you to ruin my pussy, kuna. Mmh,” you jerked your hips forward. “Want you to fill my mouth with milk as you do it.”

“Get off.” His tone shifted from somewhat sweet to serious. You followed his orders anyway. You both exchanged positions so now he was on top of you.

“My dirty human. Better stick to your words, darling. I am not planning on stopping until you're drenched in my cum and my milk”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

You always knew Suguru's heat cycle. As the days approached closer, he used to become more and more whiny and clingy, arguing with you over petty things. His behavior did a 180° on these days.

Earlier today, you had a discourse over chores. He nagged at how you should keep things in place, or you won't find them when you need it. You understood where he was coming from, but the work had taken quite a toll on you that you barely had energy tonight. He just wouldn't let it go, and you grew more frustrated. You yanked him by his wrist, dragging his giant, muscular body to the shower. And here you were, stroking him off as you nibbled, and suckled on his tits. The continuous pour of warm water stimulating both of you.

“This is what you wanted, right, sugu?” you looked up, chin nuzzling in his cleavage. “Nagging me the whole day. You just wanted your tits sucked.” His brows scrunched together. A large hand approached your face, cupping your cheeks. He had his fingers digging the muscle on your face until they squished together.

“Behave,” his voice stern. “Just 'cause 'm in heat doesn't mean you hold the upper hand, baby.”

“Oh, but I do, Sugu—*spank* Ah! What was that for?”

“For teasing me. I know you love drinking my milk, princess. Get to it 'cause I can't take it nomo.” He pressed your face against one of his boobs, your nose pressured a little above the nipple, forcing the spurts of milk out.

“You gon' let it fall down the drain?” Your immediate action was to cup his tiddy with both of your hands—his chest was too big to use one—massaging all of the juice out. You opened your mouth and let it aim at your tongue.

“Fucking hell! This is why—mmghh easy, princess. 'Tis all sore.”

“I gotchu, sugu.” You eased out the movement of your hands, gently kneading them.

“Fhuuck, yes. Just like that.” Other hand travelled back down, grabbing his throbbing boner, squeezing the base as you squeezed his nipples. Geto planted a kiss on top of your head. “Holy shit. Still can't believe you're mine.” Your lips morphed into a smile, teeth still grasping his nipple. “Look at'cha. My milk's getting your high already.” He picked you up bridal style, your tongue still licking his puffed chest, as he kicked the bathroom door open that lead to your bedroom. “You got your treat. Time f'me to get mine, princess.”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

Working 9to5, staring all day at a computer screen is what your life had been all about. You switched companies to think you might get something new to do, but to no one's surprise, it was the same. Except, this one man you were crushing on since day one.

Nanami Kento was a gentleman they described in those fairytales. Always so respectful, kind and damn he was a big feminist. Although, with him being the perfect husband material, you were still never going to cross the line because you were co-workers. That didn't mean you weren't allowed to crush.

“And then Mr. Sasaki from HR department knocked the beer over,” your TL chattered. Nanami wasn't the one to gossip, but Sakurako-san was your team leader and older than everyone. She wasn't a bad person but oh boy did she love tea. You fake gasped to give her the reaction she wanted, as you side-eyed Kento who looked a bit uncomfortable.

“Then he had the audacity to—”

“Excuse me,” Nanami withdrew halfway from the conversation he wasn't even participating in much, walking away abruptly.

After a few minutes, you decided to look for him to make sure he was alright. Of course, as a co-worker, you should. Nothing related to the heart eyes you give him, right?

You stomped towards the corridor almost making a left until you heard loud coughs reverberating through the walls of the men's washroom. You swore it was him. Furthermore, you shouldn't have gone in. What were you thinking? It was a men's washroom, for fuck's sake. But what if something happened to him? Sure.

Pushing the door in a hurry, you entered, almost tripping. “Nanami-san—” You did not whether you should be embarrassed, shocked or horrified. Maybe all three.

“Are you okay?”

“You shouldn't be here, l/n-san.” True. But seeing him squeeze his tits, and milking himself down the drain was the sight you were blessed to see. You locked the door behind, the clicking of the latch making Nanami hold his breath, “What are you doing?”

“You're going to let all that milk go to waste, Kento?” His dick twitched. You never called him by his first name, and now you were asking inappropriate questions along with calling him Kento.

“L/N-san, this isn't right—”

“Shhh. Just wanna help you. We're colleagues, aren't we?” He nodded.

Without breaking any eye contact you hopped on the counter, hands reaching for his nipples glistening with milk under the off-white light. You pressed your palm against his chest, feeling the liquid staining it, only starting to cramming the swell more. Kento lost his composure, hands falling flat on the counter, head on your shoulders. Couple of shaky breaths, fading soft moans leaving his lips. Pushing him back for a second to only latch your tongue on the dark pink bud, you were sure you're way past the appropriate relationship of just work buddies.

“L/n—ah! Can I?” He darted his eyes down where the tent peeked out his gray formal pants. You smiled. Knowing he needed friction, you adjusted your pencil skirt, and wrapped your legs around him, boner pressed against wet patch on your panties. Nanami felt like he was in heaven. He started humping against your clothed pussy, being rough contradictory to his gentle innocent touches to you before. But it was only reasonable given the fact that he was in heat.

He never knew the feeling of being milked from both ends, but now when he came, he ruined his whole expensive suit. The edges of the mustard yellow shirt becoming translucent with his milk, with a dark spot on his pants between his legs. He let out a shaky breath, apologizing as he slowly came back to his senses.

“What are you apologizing for? I started it,” you said as you hopped off the countertop. “Let me know if you ever need more help, Nanami-san.” A wink from is what caused his cheeks to turn red. “I'll bring you spare clothes from your desk.”

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

Most lactation in men started in their early twenties. Although, it wasn't unusual for some to start late. There was nothing medically wrong with them. But you've heard things about. How much more it hurts, and how more they leak on their first heat if they do get late.

You've been dating your boyfriend Choso for almost a year now. He hadn't start lactating yet, which is why you researched enough on this topic just in case. Personally, you've never been physical with men when they're in heat. Not because it is not your thing, but your relationships were too short to actually be comfortable in experiencing it. Of course, you would never do anything with Choso at his displeasure just because you wanna try it. You love him too much. But the thought would never leave your mind. What would he act like in his heat? Well, it was your lucky day. Because you came home to a whining lactating man.

“Cho…baby, are you okay?” You rushed to him in concern. Choso was on the bed, hair down with tears in his eyes as he pressed his chest together.

“Babyyy, It hurts. I don't know what is happening.” His hold on your wrist a little too tight. “Fuck. It hurts so bad. Make it stop. Leaking too much and my cock hurts too.” You could hear—feel the desperation in his voice. His cock was on full display as his boxers dangled near his ankles. The swollen tip shining with pre-cum seducing your mouth. But your mouth was needed more elsewhere. You remembered your first sex education class, how men in heat can be relieved if you milk and suck their tits. You discarded your clothes, getting bare and settling on his lap. Your hole rubbing against the body of his shaft as you pressed your tits against his, kissing his forehead.

“Cho shhh. Baby you're fine. You're just in heat. 's gonna be alright. 'm here, okay?” He sniffled as you pampered him. “Gonna take good care of my boyfie.” You left a trail of lipstick stains as you kissed his body, slowly trailing towards the puffy nipples. You looked up at him for consent, only to continue when he whispered a “please”. With your tongue darting out, you soaked in the view before licking a stripe.

“Shit,” Choso cursed. You do it a few more times until you're finally sucking on it like a popsicle. “Fuck. Ah!” It was indeed too much because with only fifteen seconds in, your mouth was already full of his milk, leaking from the corner of your lips. It wasn't a normal amount. But given the fact that it was his first, that too at this age, you brushed it off, focusing back to sucking. You gulped the milk, each sip making you dizzy. It made you grind harder against his cock, moaning along with him. His whimpers making you wet, and his dick enjoying your slippery pussy.

“Wanna cum. Please. Wanna cum, baby.” He begged and you started fastening your pace. The sheets were wet, along with your neck and tits as he shot spurts of sweet milk in your mouth that dripped down your body. Some of it sneaking its way down between his dick and your cunt. You held on to his shoulder, giving his chest a few slaps, making him rut harder against you that the bed started creaking.

“Cumming. Fuck, I am cumming. Ah! Ah! Ah! Ngh—holy fuuuuck!” Your own orgasming cunt could feel his dick twitch as it shot a load out. His hardened nipples turning soft. He immediately cupped your cheeks, pulling you up. “I love you so much, fuck. Thank you.” He said before he kissed you, his tongue lapping against yours, tasting himself on you.

@kiffenisstupid @pastelle-rabbit @lxnarphase @teddybeartoji @rizzmin @yuta-nation @evxelisy @hellkaiserinphoenix @ffsg0jo @princessoflalaland @baekinola @chuuyasboots @cathybarn @togamest @katsukichu @blkkizzat

[gumii-bearr]

❝ you hitting on me? ❞

summary: megumi doesn't like clubs, but then he sees you.

featuring… megumi fushiguro

content warning: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, alt!megumi, piercings and tattoos, reader is a babe fr, pet names, car sex, rough sex, fingering, riding, dick piercing (what who said that??), teasing, edging, choking, crying (omg), spanking (a lil bit), unprotected sex (don’t do that!!!!!), bit of subspace??, alcohol mentioned, smoking mentioned (don’t smoke, it’s bad for you!), vaping mentioned, these two are so horny for each other like wtf

author’s note: this was a request by a lovely anon!!! ... also its 4k words

Megumi doesn’t like going out. It’s not his thing, really. He prefers to stay at home to play video games or be his own company, and if he has to be social he prefers a more intimate get together over… whatever the hell Yuji is dragging him along too. 

“Trust, it’ll be fun,” Yuji nudges Megumi’s shoulder lightly. Megumi keeps his hands stuffed in the pockets of his black hoodie, a resting annoyed expression plastered across his face. He’s not sure how Yuji roped him into coming to this gig, maybe it was because Megumi kind of owed Yuji for turning down hanging out with him for the past… many times. 

Megumi doesn’t respond, just wordlessly follows behind Yuji as he weaves through groups of people socialising, vaping and drinking outside the bar Megumi was conned into coming to.

Yuji mentioned something about his friend’s band playing at this bar tonight and there may have been mentions of meeting up with Nobara but Megumi kind of tuned him out after he started going on and on about how Megumi was being anti-social and bringing up the numerous times he cancelled on Yuji (it was a ploy to make him feel bad and it unfortunately worked).

The moment they walk down the graffitied hallway, Megumi is again reminded why he doesn’t like going out. The bar is packed with drunk people and it smells of alcohol and sweat. Megumi inwardly cringes at the whole atmosphere and nearly, nearly, spins on his heel and leaves when some drunk girl bumps into Megumi while giggling and slightly dry heaving.

Before Megumi can even make a comment, Yuji is grabbing his arm, “don’t be a party-pooper, Fushiguro, we haven’t even seen Nobara yet!”

“I didn’t say anything,” Megumi deadpans.

“Yeah, but your face said it all,” Yuji retorts, “come on!” Yuji tugs on his friend’s arm, dragging his friend toward the loud thumping music.

His head hurts already. The music is loud and the random LED lights flying over the crowd are bright and annoying. Megumi is annoyed, to be fair, he’s always slightly annoyed but right now it’s increased tenfold by the overstimulating nightmare that is this club.

Megumi doesn’t even know where Yuji is going. Yuji is staring at his phone, then looking around, then back at his phone again. He’s talking to Megumi but the music is so loud that Megumi doesn’t know what the hell he’s saying. 

“There she is!” okay, he caught that.

Yuji walks a little faster, Megumi attempting to weave through the crowd of people without touching anyone (it’s not working, he’s very uncomfortable). The crowd seems to dissipate as they reach the back of the club by the bar, numerous tables dotting the back wall. Megumi spots Nobara as she leaps up from the table, waving her arm around obnoxiously.

“Itadori!” she’s yelling and if Megumi knows anything about Nobara, it’s that her voice really carries. “Fushiguro!”

Megumi raises his hand from his pocket as a slight wave, his lips forming a tight line. Nobara is already shoving a drink into Yuji’s hand then reaching over to give one to Megumi, “dunno what it is but it’s getting me drunk!”

Megumi tunes out whatever Nobara is saying the moment he sees you. 

You’re chuckling as you watch Nobara and Yuji feed off of each other’s excitement. You’re holding a drink in your hand, absentmindedly swirling the ice around with your straw. 

You’re also trying to remain super nonchalant at the fact you’re totally checking out Yuji’s friend.

He looks completely uninterested in what’s happening, his tired eyes glancing at anything other than the social situation in front of him. His hair is messy and framing his gorgeous face. His hoodie sleeves are rolled up and your eyes trace down his veiny arms adorned with pretty tattoos all the way to his hands. He’s got a couple of nose piercings and an eyebrow piercing, his whole vibe is dark and brooding and you’re so into it.

Where the fuck has this cutie been?

“Y/N, this is my friend Fushiguro,” you sit up a little straighter at the mention of your name. Nobara tugs on Megumi’s arm bringing him closer to the bar table, “say hi, you emo bitch.”

Megumi eyes you and you have no idea what he’s thinking. “Uh, hey,” he says awkwardly. Oh god, he’s a dork. You must have him.

He’s remaining as poker-faced as possible as his eyes glance over you, from the fishnet stocking adorning your legs to the subtle colour of your glossed lips. You’re smiling at him softly through mascaraed lashes and he finds himself peeking down at your lips.

Megumi thinks you’re really pretty.

He mostly just listens as you, Nobara and Yuji talk about college and work, opting for tapping his finger against the glass in front of him. He likes the way you talk, hand gestures accompanying your enthusiastic ramble about your college degree. He also likes the way you laugh, though he finds himself becoming slightly annoyed by the fact that Yuji’s the one making you laugh. 

He decides he needs a smoke, his head is pounding from the loud music and the flashing lights; he needs a break.

Megumi gets up from his seat, nudging Yuji’s arm, “‘m just going out for a smoke.”

Yuji waves him off and Megumi sets off toward the smoking area outside the bar. It’s colder outside but god, it’s so much quieter, just the bustling of cars down the street and the occasional police siren. He pulls a cigarette out of his pocket, flicking his lighter and holding it to the end until the smoke fills his mouth. 

He leans against the wall, cigarette perched between his lips as he scrolls on his phone. He debates it for a while, but eventually gives in and searches your name up on instagram. He finds your account, noticing you’re already friends with Itadori. He scrolls through your posts, feeling like a fucking teenager stalking your social media–

“Fuck.”

Megumi’s eyes snap to you, now with an oversized leather jacket pulled around your shoulders as you rifle through your purse. There’s an unlit cigarette pressed between your glossy lips and your brows are furrowed.

Megumi fishes his lighter back out of his pocket, he walks over to you and nudges your arm, holding the lighter out for you.

You look up at him with your pretty eyes, a smile pulling at your lips, “thanks, Fushiguro.”

You take the lighter from his hand, attempting to flick the lighter to life to light your cigarette. You try a couple more times before Megumi chuckles softly, taking it from your smaller hands and lighting it the first try.

He wordlessly cups the end of your cigarette, shielding it from the wind as he lights your cigarette for you, his darker eyes flickering up to yours briefly. 

The two of you stand in silence for a moment before you speak.

“I like your tattoos,” you say sweetly.

“Hm?”

“Your tattoos, they’re cool,” you repeat with a soft chuckle.

“Oh, thank you,” Megumi replies, absentmindedly running a hand along his inked arm. He feels his heart race a little when you reach a manicured hand out and run your finger along the dragon twisting around his forearm.

“Nobara told me you weren’t much of a talker,” you say, your smaller hand still fiddling with his larger more angular hands as you admire his tattoos. It’s strangely intimate of you to touch him in such a way.

“You talked about me?” Megumi teases, taking another drag from his cigarette with a smirk tugging at his lips.

“All good things, don’t worry,” you retort, finally letting go of his arm to bring your cigarette back up to your lips.

“Didn’t take you for a smoker.”

“Trying to quit, just smoke when I drink,” you shrug. You sigh then turn your head to face him, you look him up and down, “you got a girlfriend?”

Megumi lets out a laugh, coughing slightly on the smoke still swirling around in his chest, “no, why?”

You grin, “‘m hitting on you.”

“Oh, you are, are you?” Megumi presses.

“You’re pretty cute,” you shrug.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Megumi asks, turning his head to blow the smoke away from you.

“No, no boyfriend… why? Are you hitting on me?” You ask curiously with a shit-eating grin plastered across your pretty glossy lips. 

Megumi looks at you and the two of you hold eye contact for a moment. His eyes flicker to your lips briefly before he squashes out the rest of his cigarette, “I’ll buy you a drink.”

“So you are hitting on me,” you tease.

Megumi takes the cigarette from your fingers, stealing your last puff and inwardly beaming at the cherry flavour of your lip gloss before squashing it out for you, “I’m buying you a drink.”

Megumi does indeed buy you a drink, bringing it back to the table for you, even getting you a straw.

“Thank you, Fushiguro,” you smile sweetly.

“Megumi is fine,” he says, pulling his chair out to sit next to you.

You suppress a smile, “okay, Megumi.”

The both of you miss as Yuji reluctantly slips Nobara some cash. 

The two of you talk all night. Megumi is a little more laid back after you manage to get two drinks into him. The time slips away from you and you find yourself not even interested in what Nobara and Yuji are talking about as you talk to Megumi. 

Megumi lets you toy with his fingers, your nails dragging along his tattooed hand and up his arm. You suddenly grow curious, wondering if he’s got any other tattoos underneath his clothes, you feel like a bit of a perv coming onto this guy you just met, but you’re so drawn to him and he seems to be just as into you.

You catch Megumi’s eyes drifting down to your tits before he quickly clears his throat to answer whatever question you asked him. You think it’s cute and you decide to tease him a little by wriggling a little closer to him, your fishnet-clad thigh pressing against his. 

He knows what you’re doing and he’s not even mad about it. He lets you laugh and hang off him, lets you toy with the hem of his hoodie sleeves and lets you bump shoulders with him. In all honesty, he lets you because you’re hot and you’re into him.

“God, it’s so late,” Nobara sighs, wincing at the brightness of her phone.

Megumi checks his own phone; 12:54am. God, it is late.

“Open your phone,” you mutter, your chin resting on his shoulder.

“Why?”

“Just open your phone,” you giggle.

He does as you say and he nearly has a fucking heart attack when his phone opens to your Instagram that he was totally not stalking just a few hours ago.

“Fuck,” he knows he’s caught red-handed when you start to laugh softly, his hand falling slack in his lap.

“Aw, you’re stalking me, Gumi?” 

Megumi feels his chest tighten at the little nickname and he rolls his eyes but doesn’t offer any kind of explanation as he hands you his phone to do whatever it is you wanted to do.

You scroll to his contacts, quickly putting your name and number in his phone (you also make sure to follow your Instagram from his phone) before clicking it shut and handing it back to him. 

“Don’t forget to call me, kay?” you give him the prettiest doe eyes and quickly stand up, grabbing your jacket to join Nobara as she leaves. “It was nice to meet you, Megumi.”

He sits there dumbfounded as you and Nobara leave, he watches your back, watching your little skirt ride up over your ass a bit as you walk away. Fucking hell.

“Dude!” Yuji nudges his arm, “you got her number!”

“Shut up,” Megumi retorts.

“Told you you’d have fun.”

“Shut up!”

Megumi shoves a laughing Yuji away as he reaches for his own stuff to leave. The club is mostly empty by now, Megumi not realising how much time they’d spent here because he was so fucking distracted by you.

He and Yuji go to leave when Megumi notices your purse is still hanging over your chair. He quickly grabs it, scanning the crowd with his tall frame in hopes you’re still hanging around. You’re not, so he quickly pulls on Yuji to catch you before you go. Not that you’ll get far without your keys.

-

“Fuck,” you stand by your car and realise you left your purse in the club. You’re almost two blocks away from said club and Nobara has already left, leaving you somewhat stranded. You sigh, pulling your phone out of your pocket to text Nobara and ask her to turn around and take you home because you’re too tired and your feet hurt too much to walk all the way back.

“Hey, Y/N,” you perk up at the sound of your name, spinning on your heel and watching as Megumi catches up to you, your purse slung over his shoulder.

“Oh fuck, thank you!” you sigh with relief as Megumi hands you back your purse. You fish through your purse for your keys, “did Yuji drive you?”

“Yeah, but he’s already left,” he says.

You give him a look, “he has, huh?”

“Thought I could drive you… since you’ve had a couple,” Megumi tilts his head at you and you grin knowingly.

“What a gentleman,” you tease. “My place or yours?” you joke.

Megumi just looks at you and there’s a thick tension hanging in the air. He suddenly surges forward, capturing your pretty glossy lips in a hard kiss.

You kiss him back almost instantly, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck. Even with heels on, Megumi is taller than you and you have to arch your back to catch his slightly chapped lips as he leans over you, his large hands landing on your waist to pull your hips against his.

“Here’s fine,” he mutters against your lips with a cheeky smirk, you can only laugh softly as one of his tattooed hands comes up to hold the back of your head, forcing you to deepen the kiss.

He forces his tongue into your mouth and you whine softly. He tastes of tobacco and spiced rum and it makes you fucking dizzy. You thread your fingers through his messy black hair, tugging on it as he moves you to press your back against the cold car window.

“You bring my purse all the way here just to kiss me?” You quirk a brow at him, panting slightly.

“Maybe,” he grins, trailing his lips down your jaw to your neck. “You leave your purse on purpose so I’d bring it to you?”

“Maybe.” 

Megumi’s hands trail down your waist to your ass, gently kneading the soft flesh over your tiny skirt. Your pretty nails push up the hem of his hoodie, feeling up his toned as fuck abs that tense slightly under your touch.

He kisses you again, his thumb coming to rest on your throat as his fingers squeeze slightly, god you really want him to choke you while he fucks you–

“Unlock the car, Y/N,” he says against your ear, his voice low and sexy. 

You pull your keys out of your purse and unlock your car (you’re lucky your car is parked in the dark at the back of the parking lot). 

You clamber over each other in the backseat until you’re straddling Megumi’s lap, your fingers in his hair once again while he kisses and sucks on your neck. His hands knead your ass, his fingers slipping down to lift your tiny skirt over your ass.

“Mm, touch me, Gumi,” you whine against his ear.

Megumi smiles against your neck before pulling away from you. You whine a little at the loss of contact but he quickly kisses you again, one of his hands snaking up the bottom of your top to grope your tits. You hold his hand over your top, forcing him to squeeze your soft skin.

You let out a soft moan at the feeling of his cold rings nipping at your hot skin. You grind your hips down against his, feeling his bulge rub against your wet panties. He groans at the feeling, his free hand curling into the plush skin of your ass before he reels it back to deliver a smack! to your ass.

You moan at the slight sting, hands holding Megumi’s face to kiss him as he forces your hips to grind against his hard-on.

“You’ve been teasing me all night,” Megumi pants against your lips.

“I just wanted you t’fuck me,” you retort playfully.

“Such a slut,” he kneads your ass again before reaching his hand down further to run his middle finger across your slit over your panties. “Someone’s excited, hm?”

“Shut up,” you whine as he traces his finger over your clothed clit. You curl your fists into the fabric of his hoodie, moaning against his shoulder as he presses his finger a little harder against your clit.

He suddenly reaches both hands down, ripping apart your fishnets for better access. He pulls your pretty lacy panties aside, the pad of his finger prodding at your soaked hole. He traces his fingertip around the opening, chuckling as you whine and hump his lap looking for friction.

“Don’t tease me,” you grumble.

“You’re so cute when you’re needy,” he teases. You pout and he chuckles, pressing a wet kiss to your lips as he plunges his finger into your awaiting heat. 

You moan at the feeling, pressing your face into his shoulder as he pumps his middle finger into your tight cunt. You’re so fucking tight and you’re only taking a finger– he can only imagine how heavenly you would feel wrapped around his cock.

Your little hand presses against the buckle of his belt and Megumi delivers another hard smack! to your reddened ass. You moan out again, your trembling hands clutching his hoodie.

“So fucking impatient,” Megumi presses a second finger into your cunt, peering over your shoulder and watching as your slick starts to coat his palm and probably his clothed thigh.

“Mm, hah–” you sigh, feeling as Megumi scissors your poor little cunt open, his fingers prodding and curling against the spongy spot inside you. Your pussy makes lewd squelches as Megumi fucks his fingers into you. You grind your hips against his hard cock in his boxers, the friction rubbing your poor neglected clit.

You feel your lower belly start to burn as you whine and hump against Megumi’s clothed cock, your hole beginning to tighten and spasm around his fingers.

Megumi suddenly pulls his fingers from your soaked little pussy. You let out a frustrated whine as the burn in your belly subsides and you pant against Megumi’s neck. 

His fingers prod at your lips without warning and you open your mouth just slightly and he forces his fingers into your mouth, pressing down on your cute little tongue.

You suck on his fingers, your smaller hand curling around his wrist as you make cute little noises. Megumi kisses your temple before his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, “I want you to cum on my cock… can you do that f’me, baby?”

You nod your head quickly.

“Words, baby,” he coos, his hand kneading over the harsh red welt blooming on your ass. 

“Mhm… I can do it,” you pant, a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin. “Please.”

Megumi’s hand reaches for his belt buckle, quickly undoing his belt and unzipping his pants. If he wasn’t so impatient, he would have taken you home and had you spread your legs for him to fuck you with his tongue and his fingers. Then he would have forced you onto your knees and fucked your face until you cried before he put his dick anywhere near your cunt.

But this is just as good.

Megumi pulls his cock from his boxers, groaning as he pumps himself a few times. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at the sheer size of him, but also the fact that underneath the pink head of his cock is a little silver barbell. 

“You got a condom, baby?

“N-No,... you have your dick pierced?”

Megumi almost forgets he has it half the time, “yeah… feels good, don’t worry.”

You bite your lip, suddenly a little jealous of how he exactly figured out his piercing felt good. Megumi notices your flushed face and the way you chew on your lip. His large hand gently cups your face, forcing you to look at him so he can press a soft kiss to your lips.

He reaches for your hand, bringing it down to wrap around his hard cock. It’s heavy in your hand and you gently squeeze, jerking him off.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Megumi kisses at your skin, “promise ‘m gonna take you on a date tomorrow.”

You giggle at his attempt to make you feel better, “you better, cus if you’re gonna fuck me raw you better buy me dinner.”

Megumi chuckles through a low groan, grabbing your wrist and forcing you to stop squeezing and jerking him off because if you keep doing it he’s gonna cum like a teenager because you’re the prettiest fucking girl he’s ever seen and now you’re on top of him with your top pushed over your pretty tits and your pussy waiting for him.

Megumi kisses you again, his tongue pressing against yours as you lift yourself up a little, your hand wrapping around the base of Megumi’s big fucking cock to line him up with your sopping hole. 

Megumi’s hands land on your hips, his dark eyes meeting yours as his tip prods as your hole. You feel his piercing catch on the outside of your hole and you tip your head back and moan as you sink down, Megumi peppering kisses across your tits as he helps you lower yourself down on his cock.

You’re so fucking tight around him when he finally bottoms out, your pussy wrapped so snug, pulsing slightly as you pant and moan.

“S’big, Gumi,” you whine.

“I’ll be gentle,” he says as he lifts your hips, slowly pulling you back down on his cock. “You gotta help me out, princess.”

You pant, only just noticing how foggy your windows are. The two of you are coated in a thin sheen of sweat and you lean back, planting your hands on the tops of Megumi’s knees so you can bounce on his cock.

You start off slow before you get lost in the feeling of his cock and the piercing dragging against your tight walls. Megumi’s hands bruise your hips as he helps you bounce on his cock, his eyes unable to look away from where your pussy sucks in his cock.

Your slick is forming a white ring around the base of his cock, your wetness dripping down the inside of your thighs and down onto his pants. You’re fucked stupid on his dick as you babble and moan incoherently, unable to stop bouncing as you chase your orgasm.

You pull almost all the way off his dick before forcing yourself back down, your eyes screwing shut at the feeling of his cock kissing your cervix. Megumi’s hand presses against the slight bulge in your tummy, the feeling making you fucking dizzy.

“Harder, please Gumi, fuck me harder,” you cry out, your finger sinking down between your thighs to rub circles on your clit. 

Megumi feels like he gets harder at the nickname, “fuck, baby,” he coos, his hands bruising your hips as he bullies your cunt, the tip of his cock bruising your poor cervix. One of Megumi’s hands wraps around your throat, squeezing on your pretty neck. You choke on your own moans as your orgasm nears.

“I’m gonna– Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you cry, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, mixing with your mascara and slipping down your pretty cheeks.

You feel your belly start to burn and your nails scratch at Megumi’s forearms as he lets go of your neck to press his own thumb against your sensitive little clit, forcing your orgasm out of you.

You cry when you feel the coil in your belly snap, your cunt spasming around Megumi’s cock and gushing around him.

“That’s it, princess. Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he eggs you on, your legs shaking at the feeling of your orgasm crashing into you. “You’re so tight, baby.”

You don’t respond, your vision turning white as your cunt clamps down on him. Megumi groans and grunts at the feeling, bouncing your hips on his lap and using your fucked out body to chase his own orgasm.

Megumi’s cock twitches inside you and you just whine and cry as he pumps you full of his cum, thick white ropes painting your insides. He forces your hips down onto his cock, finally ceasing his movements and just panting, attempting to catch his breath.

Your body shakes and you mewl softly, babbling incoherently. Megumi coos, pulling you against his chest and running a hand down your back to bring you back to earth, “shh, shh, you’re okay.”

“Mhm,” you hum.

“Too much?” he asks, petting your hair and kissing the crown of your head.

You shake your head, “best sex of my life,” you sigh.

Megumi chuckles, his hand gently rubbing up and down your back, his other hand fixing your shirt back over your boobs. “I’ll take you home now, kay?”

“You gonna stay?” you ask, peering up at him with a fucked out expression and dried mascara stuck to your cheeks.

“You want me to?” he smiles.

You nod, “mhm… otherwise how will you make me breakfast?”

Megumi laughs, lifting your head to press kisses to your face. 

After a moment longer, Megumi lifts you off of his softening dick, his cum leaking from your abused little hole. You sigh at the empty feeling, your thighs aching from the stretch. Megumi fixes your panties back into place, pressing another kiss to your forehead.

He manages to carry you and put you into the passenger seat, fastening your seatbelt for you before starting up your car and actually driving you home–

“Wait, where the hell am I going?”

You can only tiredly giggle from the passenger seat.

author's note: YEESH! i need a cold ass shower. dunno how i feel about it but!!! it’s here!!!

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - unreality, eldritch!yandere, prolonged captivity, implied nsfw, and voyeurism.

You might’ve been the only one left.

If there was another living person in town, they were either too assimilated or too well hidden to find. Everyone else – the unliving, the possessed, the altered – had that glassy sheen over their eyes, that thoughtless smile painted over their lips, that sense of connected omniscience that meant you could walk into a café you’d never visited before and the beaming barista would already know your name, your order, and your mother’s address. There were no strangers anymore, not really, no differentiation between your closest friend and your coldest acquaintance. Everyone knew everything, especially about you.

You still went to work, for some reason. There wasn’t really a point. What few responsibilities you had as a professional pencil pusher dried up months ago, leaving you in a state of white-collar limbo. Occasionally, you’d get an email, but the message was always disjointed and nonsensical, like filler text in a bad office simulator game. Sometimes, your phone would ring, but there’d only ever be heavy breathing and the muffled sound of wet flesh hitting stone on the other side. After a while, you stopped answering.

Your boss would stop by your cubicle, make small talk over lukewarm coffee. He was the attractive, older type – all grey-streaked hair and tailored suits. He used to hate you. You couldn’t remember when he change his mind.

“We’re grabbing a round of drinks on the company card tonight,” he explained. “To celebrate the end of another tough week.”

“It’s Tuesday.”

“It’s the least I could do. You’re such a hard worker, (Y/n).”

You glanced up from the sticky note you were currently folding into a paper crane. This would be your forty-seventh attempt. “I am?”

He laughed as if you’d said the funniest thing in the world and rested a hand on your arm, leaning in a little too close for comfort. “So, you’re coming?”

“I’d rather gauge my own eyes out.”

“Sounds like a date.” He squeezed your shoulder before drawing back. “We’ll be waiting.”

You didn’t go. You would stop coming in a few days later, but the phone calls followed you home.

Not that ‘home’ had ever meant safety. The infection had seeped into the architecture, gotten control of the roots. There were swaths of days where you didn’t – couldn’t – leave, every door disappearing and every window sealing itself shut, trapping you in. Others, it almost seemed to force you out – every wall suddenly glass and every door hanging open despite your best attempts to keep them closed. You’d find a fully stocked fridge suddenly empty, or every word of your favorite paperback abruptly replaced with encouraging messages to stretch your legs, get fresh air, go outside. Once, you even tried to leave town altogether. Your car broke down after the first mile, so you walked in an endlessly straight line, never turning, never looking back, never stopping. Somehow, you found yourself on your own doorstep, door open wide as if welcoming you back.

You spent that night on your lawn, sobbing into the grass while your neighbors formed a uniform circle around you, watching. Guarding. Smiling.

Things devolved quickly. You tried your hand at burning down a local bookstore, but the clerk stood beside you all the while, snuffing out every match you managed to light. You poured yourself drinks at up-town bars and slept in velvet-lined booths, never so much as attempting to pay your tab. You skinny-dipped in a mall fountain during peak hours, bathing under cheap plastic skylights and harsh fluorescents. No one paid you a second glance. There were no kids in town anymore, and everyone seemed to glow with a sort of unnatural, off-putting beauty. Like they were grooming themselves to your preferences. Like the town was preening itself to better capture your attention.

You sat in the corner of an old-fashioned diner, staring silently at the table while a handful of other customers pretend to talk amongst themselves around you - the inflections familiar but the words gibberish. Thirty minutes passed before a waitress wandered over, notebook in hand and smile wide enough to strain. “What can I get for you, darlin’?”

“I want to leave.”

“Afraid that’s not on the menu.”

“Then tell what you want. Why you’re keeping me here.”

“Coming right up, sugar.”

A silver platter too nice to be in a place like this was brought to your table. A golden wedding band stood solitary one side and, on the other, bridal lingerie, nearly folded and white as a dove.

Your stomach dropped. You considered getting up, going home, but that wouldn’t have made a difference. You were surrounded, cornered, imprisoned.

And eventually, you would have to reckon with the needs of your warden.