bunnyuki

[bunnyuki]

𐑺 ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ NEVER HAVE I EVER, OKKOTSU YŪTA

a party with your boyfriend isn’t something you expected to turn so sour. but maybe that’s because you didn’t expect your past relationships to start coming out.. or for one of them to be sitting in the room with you.

summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. jealousy. possessiveness. manipulation. alcohol / party scenes. obsession. exhibitionism. never have i ever. switching perspectives. creampie. alcohol consumed but nil effect. maki is drunk. all credits to this anon. previous relationship between reader and noritoshi kamo. violence mention (yandere themes). reference back to their school years. aged up characters. wc, 8.9k.

note. thank you so much to the anon linked in the summary for letting me write this :) i really hope i was able to do such a great idea justice for you ❤︎

the air is warm around you as you sway in the living room, surrounded by intoxicated friends and strangers with red plastic cups in their hands and loud music blasting through the halls of the house.

you’d sat your empty drink down a while ago and hadn’t had a moment to refill for yourself yet, so instead you stay empty handed— although you feel pretty much occupied in your company.

you’re here with your boyfriend, yuuta, and his friends as you stand around with a few of the other people you’re not sure you recognise from his class. but you listen politely, not really absorbing the information as you let your eyes wander the room. although you’re quickly brought back with the press of cold fingertips beneath the hem of your t-shirt, before it’s accompanied by a slow breath exhaled against your throat from behind.

your boyfriend was always particularly clingy in these sort of environments, attached to your side like an extra limb or at this moment, wrapped around you from behind— much like the blanket you’d tuck yourself under every night. the only difference being you’re not comfortable in your own bed and your boyfriend, yuuta, had a certain aura, an energy about him. it was the sort of chill that made goosebumps burst along someone’s skin whenever they’d lock eyes with him across the room, the kind that urged people to look away before that happened — to avoid looking at you before he caught them.

it was like a curse of sorts.

“are you okay?” yuuta asks gently as you feel the cool brush of his fingertips brush higher, smoothing along your waist, his touch is cold as always but it soothes the warm press of your own skin as he leans forward. you feel his lips smear across your cheek as he speaks, almost a kiss — like he’s asking, hoping for one.

“mhm, ‘m good,” you turn to meet him, shuddering beneath the heat of his gaze despite the way warm was never really a word that came to mind whenever you looked at him. haunting, chilling, even unsettling maybe— but the type of look that made you not want to look away. like when the naive, pretty girl in the slasher movie thinks it’s a better idea to go towards the source of a sound in her usually empty, dark apartment than leave entirely.. to safety.

if only you knew those seconds, half-seconds that the line of your gaze connected with his, were the only moments in the day that he felt anything at all.

“are you tired? we can leave if you want,” yuuta asks, almost expectantly, hoping you’d take him up on the offer to lock you back up in his apartment, all for him, away from prying eyes of drunken party goers— away from everyone else if you’d let him. he waits for your answer before he kisses you once and you always thought it was a little unexpected how touchy he could be in public, considering how apologetic and awkward he seemed when you first met.

as always, you feel yourself melt into the press of his lips, into the confidence he always kissed you with despite his demeanour and you’re suddenly warm beneath your collar as his fingers press higher— urging you closer as his tongue swipes along your lips. but before you can continue, to go further— you pull away, maybe a little too aware of the amount of eyes around you despite the way your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care at all,

“i’m okay, i’m having fun.” you feel his fingers squeeze tighter as you answer but he smiles,

“are you sure? we can—“

“sheesh, i haven’t seen you guys in forever. where the hell you been, hah?” your conversation is cut off by the slur of a familiar voice as it barrels towards you both through the crowds, urging their way between you so they can throw their arms across your shoulders, an arm for each as yuuta begrudgingly breaks away to stand at the other side.

“maki!” you giggle as your friend uses you to keep herself steady— both of you mostly held up by yuuta strength alone. “we’ve both been busy, yuuta’s especially—“

your words are meant innocently, more of a factual response rather than something somber but that alone seems to ignite the fiery spirit of your friend when she’s groaning as it slips off your tongue. suddenly she’s turning to your boyfriend with a tight frown on her features, an expression that he’d grown familiar to seeing— but it’s one he still manages to meet with a smile.

“oh yeah? i hope you’re taking care of my girl, yuuta.” maki growls and you watch the way he scratches at the back of his neck, the exchange reminds you of the stories she used to tell you about the first time they met in their second year. before he was able to stand on his own.

“huh?! i am, i am!” his voice is almost boyish as he responds and you find yourself smiling at the way yuuta seems to relax around people like maki and his other former classmates. you very rarely seen him interact with other people at all when you were together, it normally just being you two— by his choice, because he always said he didn’t like other people taking away his time with you. but you think it’s charming, the relationship he has with his friends and the way they playfully jab and tease him in a way that makes you giggle.

maki ruffles at his hair as she tsks and you think it’s amusing the way yuuta’s eyes are back on you when he notices the way you’re grinning. “you remember what you were like before i took you under my wing, i’m trustin’ you to protect her!” you’re pretty sure he could easily dodge her playful smacks against his chest, especially given the way the alcohol has probably impacted her precision. but you also think it’s nice that he chooses not to, watching him chuckle, maybe a little embarrassed at her words as he waves her off.

“come on, maki.. you know id kill anyone to protect the one i love,” yuuta’s blushing slightly but there’s no uncertainty in his words, instead it’s like you can hear the pure devotion that’s wrapped and woven itself around every syllable when it’s accompanied by the unwavering cut of his gaze.

but still, it doesn’t make maki falter the way it might anybody else— instead she shrugs as her arms unwind from you both to cross her chest. “yeah, yeah. i’ll leave you lovebirds, third wheeling ain’t my thing..” she groans again before she whips around to stumble backwards slightly— balanced again by your boyfriends quick reflexes as he steadies her with one hand. his free hand finds its place at your lower back as he takes a step closer to you again.

“you remember what i said, yuuta! take care of her or else,” you’re laughing, grateful to be able to have someone like maki in your life despite people who may find her to be a little rough around the edges. she was one of the best people you could have with you, you think. she offers you both a smug grin, thumb pointing against her chest as she backs into the crowd, “i’ll be the one to kill you if ya don’t!”

yuuta chuckles quietly as you both wave her off, watching her push her way through the wave of warm bodies that block her path so easily— with a power that was so uniquely maki.

another breath and he’s back on you, just the same as he was before as his body looms into you— draping over you like a shadow as his lips reach forward to smear along your cheeks again. just like before, you turn to meet him— twisting into another kiss that he meets so eagerly, greedily and you rasp softly as he traces across your skin with his finger. he was good at that sort of affection despite how binding it seemed.

“i..i mean it.” yuuta’s words are muffled slightly against your lips, almost drowned out by the music but they’re still so clear to you when they echo in his voice. although they urge you to pull away as you give him a naive blink,

“mean what?”

“what i said.” he answers quickly, like he’s desperate to get back to where you left off, “i’d kill for the one i love,” it’s almost misplaced, the kind smile on his features and the way his eyes soften slightly despite the way something cursed twists in his gaze— his words are spoken like a promise. it makes you feel suddenly cold despite the warm proximity and the stuffy room, too many bodies squeezed together but you catch a chill as you look up at your boyfriend over your shoulder.

“you say that but, isn’t that a little dramatic?” you turn in his hold, blinking up at him as your palms press flat into his chest and yuuta looks at you— intently, all adoring as his own hands loop around your waist to squeeze.

“no,” his voice sounds lower as he answers, chest pressed against yours and you wonder if he can feel the way his answer makes your heart jump slightly, maybe that’s why he clears his throat awkwardly as your gaze holds his. “n-no i don’t think so, because it’s for our love.” his tone feels unsteadier now, like when someone is quickly trying to explain a point, their views, before somebody can interrupt— he needs you to hear him justify his devotion.

“i don’t want you stolen from me, i dont want anyone else to take you away from me. so i’d kill them, so you’re happy with me.. forever.” yuuta’s arms squeeze tighter around you as he speaks, like he’s scared you’re going to break away, although something in your mind tells you that wouldn’t be possible even if you tried. still, he’s smiling— that same warm look that he’d greeted you with the first time you’d met in the supermarket. “that’s why, i’d kill them. i’d do it for you. for us.” the words roll from his lips so easily, like he’s convinced if they’re said in his soft, kind tone— meant with pure love, that it would take away the threatening effect,

despite the way it would make any normal person's blood run cold at the promise.

something tugs at the corner of your lips at the way you don’t take him seriously, your tone a resonant pull as your palms press into his chest through his shirt, “nobody is going to take me away from you, yuu.” he can feel the warmth of your hands on his skin despite the layer between you both.

“i know. i wouldnt let them.” yuuta leans in again, to steal another kiss— to take what’s rightfully his but you don’t twist and curl into him like you normally do. you pull away, and all he can feel is the coolness against his chest where your fingers had been before you tug him towards the couch, pushed into the corner of the room.

“let’s take a seat.”

the next few hours at the party pass by fairly quickly and your boyfriend is closer than ever to you as your thighs rest over his own, his fingers fidgeting and pressing into your skin between kisses and staggered breaths. it makes you feel like a teenager again, steamy makeout sessions on the couch at a party between giggles, but you feel more comfortable now— leaning into him, hidden away in the corner rather than stood in the middle of the room as his tongue binds with yours.

every kiss with yuuta felt messy but purposeful, his hold on you was strong and his mouth was hot— pressing into you, pushing his name between your lips as his cold fingers hook around the back of your neck to squeeze and you melt, everytime he does it, with every exhale he breathes into you.

you’re so lost in eachother you barely notice the way the seats surrounding you begin to fill up quickly, the drunken party-goers lured into the living room as panda and maki act as ring leaders. the booming sound of their voices draws back you and your boyfriends attention, although his eyes remain on you.

you listen intently, albeit a little kiss drunk and drowsy as you press into yuuta— you hear the never have i ever name being dropped and you know immediately what’s happening, finding a giddy smile pulling at your lips at the nostalgia that follows along with the title. you’re familiar with it ofcourse, familiar with the giggles and secrets that the game always seemed to spill— it reminded you of younger times, but you think it’ll be exciting now as maki gives you a wink before pushing the half-full beer in her hand in your direction.

“come on, you’re playing right? can’t do it empty-handed.” she falls down on the other side of the couch next to you as panda stays in his place in the middle of the floor. you feel yuuta nose at your cheek as he explains the rules, urging you for another kiss— to turn back now that he’s acquired an even bigger audience to claim you infront of. but you don’t budge, so he relents as his fingers squeeze at your waist.

“are you playing? i thought you’d want to go home instead, it’s late.” he tries again, another last ditch effort to get you home as it goes over your head. he accompanies the question with the captivating pull of his hands as he squeezes at you from where you’re almost sat on his lap.

another press of his lips and you’re smiling, “yeah, i love this game! you’ve never played?” you reply like it’s obvious and you don’t see the flash of disappointment flash across yuuta’s features because he smiles too. he leans into you slightly,

“w-what are the rules?” suddenly he’s more than eager, albeit in his own awkward way. it’s only normal for your boyfriend to want to know everything about your other loves— apart from him ofcourse. his eyes are on you as you as he asks, gazing up at you like he’s mapping out your features. like he hasn’t memorised them already.

“listen, panda’s explaining them.” and yuuta does, he listens to the game rules while his hands squeeze into your skin, he misses the taste of your lips already— wishes he could have them again. the rules are simple to follow, but he thinks maybe it’ll be his chance to let everyone see the things you both have done together— all of the different ways he’s claimed you, taken you as his own over and over again.

“ah, i don’t have a drink.”

“we can share.” you say it so softly, without hesitation and it makes him feel warm— drawing him in until he’s kissing once at the corner of your lips and squeezing you even closer into his side as he knocks his forehead against your temple softly.

“okay.”

the game starts out innocently enough; never have i ever told a lie, snuck out of my house— but then as you expect, as always it morphs into something a little spicier; never have i ever fucked someone in my childhood bed, fucked on a boat, eaten whipped cream from someone else’s body and with every question, every press of your lips to the beer as you take a drink, you feel yuuta fidget uncomfortably at your side as his gaze cuts into you.

he doesn’t remember this, because it wasn’t him on the other side of these experiences— looking down at you as you lapped at the cream on his body or wrapped up in the comforter of your childhood bed. it should’ve been him, he should’ve been the only one to touch you, to feel you, it wasn’t fair that people have taken what’s his— that they’d taken advantage of you, knowing he wasn’t there to protect you. it wasn’t fair. it hurts. why won’t you look at him.

his hands ball so tightly you can see the tendons, even in the low light. the keen edge of his jealousy was like flint, a spark away from fire.

“baby? we didn’t do that.” the words were expressionless, they carried no hint of anything you could read. you know you hadn’t went over your past relationships with eachother. but he’s looking at you like you’ve burned him, betrayed him as his words hiss from between his teeth— just loud enough to be spoken to you only when you finally turn to meet him. his gaze feels empty, but he blinks up at you like he’s begging you to put him at ease— you’re lying, right?

to yuuta, you were his everything— his only, was it wrong for him to expect the same level of respect, of loyalty from you? hadnt you been waiting for him to find you, to love you. it’s cruel, that’s why he’d told you— he’d promised to kill anyone who’d try to break you apart, he should’ve warned you that the promise extends even more to the people who’ve seen, felt you before him. who’ve stolen what’s rightfully his.

“oh, never have i ever hooked up in gojo-sensei’s classroom?” you shift at that, yuuta feels it— picks up on the way it’s accompanied by the same reaction from the other side of the room and his low-lidded gaze, his instincts follow that movement until it locks on its owner.

kamo noritoshi, they were in the same year at school— albeit noritoshi attended the kyoto campus but they’d met a few times. normally at the good-will festival — yuuta had never found him to be too impressive, the years that he’d participated he remembers beating him, single-handedly— if you could call it that. maybe he should’ve hit him harder, had you already met before that day? because now he’s looking at you, looking at what’s his with such a heat in his gaze that makes something boil dangerously beneath his skin.

suddenly, there was an ache in him, like a rotted tooth. but this doesn’t mean anything not yet, so yuuta presses closer— his eyes are back on you and he watches you, like he’s waiting. like he’s hoping, you wouldn’t hurt him like that, right?

you feel your cheeks burn significantly when your hand twitches, almost in sync with noritoshi’s at the other end of the room as you go to knock back the remaining liquid at the bottom of your cup. it earns you a few hoots and whistles from the surrounding ex-students, your friends— but just as you feel the plastic cup press to your lips, your movement goes no further before it’s stopped by a cool, tight press of something that wraps around your wrist. almost like a plea.

“please, don’t.” your pulse jumps, for a reason that you don’t know when you turn to the source of the voice, the source of the vice grip that’s coiled it’s way around your hand. yuuta has looked at you a thousand times, but theres something different in his gaze, an intensity that you’re not familiar with. your mouth feels dry and you can hear the sound of your throat as you swallow.

“it’s not fair.” his voice was cool, but you see his jaw tighten, just a little. “you didn’t tell me.”

his face twists and almost, you think you see anger and your nerves seem like they sing with the danger of it. you almost reach for him, to soothe him, to reassure him before it can go further but your fingers rest in the air where they reach with his next look. instead, yuuta rises, giving the room a sorry smile before he’s excusing himself—

“ah, sorry— i gotta go to the bathroom.” something tugs at you with his words, just beneath your skin.

“hah? what the hell?” maki calls after him and noritoshi is looking at you both now despite the way your boyfriend pushes into the hallway suddenly. he can sense the shift in the atmosphere and you notice the uncomfortable shift in his form as he seems to sink deeper into the couch. you feel warm under your clothes suddenly, embarrassed— guilty? you’re not sure, but it’s almost immediate the way you find your body pushing up to follow.

you’re driven by the obedience, the love he’s knowingly buried into you.

“i’m gonna go check on him.” you echo a few seconds later, you’re deliberately avoiding the eyes at the other end of the room but you still manage to meet maki’s before you’re turning to leave. she gives you an almost knowing look despite the way her face stays neutral.

“hey!” panda calls but maki cuts him off as she groans, like she’s trying to save face.. for both your sake.

“agh, leave ‘em— get onto the next one, will ya!”

yuuta feels like he’s in a daze as he stalks down the hallway, he didn’t realise you’d known the kyoto students like that— known him like that without him even picking up on it. he’d let him live with those memories, he wonders if he still thinks about you? the press of your soft skin beneath his palms, how far had you gotten? what desk had you used? had he sat at it previously? studied at it? his chest rises and falls rapidly, like its trying to keep pace with his thoughts.

it’s like all of the work he’s done has been erased, your schedule he’s memorised— the people he’s steered from you, the relationships he’s ruined, not knowing that noritoshi was right there. knowing the face you make when your mind is thick with pleasure, was he able to satisfy you the way your boyfriend does? does he still remember how tight your walls squeeze as you cum?

the bathroom door closes behind him and yuuta breathes heavy as his forehead rests against the cool wood. he feels like he’s losing his mind, his progress, his facade. but he listens, he recognises the footsteps that sound a few seconds later and he smiles.

“yuuta?” your voice calls as you push yourself down the hallway, you hope he hasn’t left yet— the idea makes something pulse in your chest, something ache in the space between your ribs because you don’t see the signs, you’re blind to them when it comes to his love.

another step and you can still hear the party raging on in the room you just left, although the hallway is eerily quiet. the floorboards squeak as you go to pass the bathroom and suddenly— you’re moving, pulled forcefully into the room so quickly that you don’t even hear the door open and you go to scream, you almost do.

the movement is so fast it steals the air from you, takes it forcefully from your lungs and it’s almost instinctive the way your arms raise to push at his chest, to push him away. until you realise that the person stood across from you now, was the one you were looking for in the first place. but the door is slammed behind you and now it’s just you two in the stuffy party bathroom. you look at him, there’s something different looking back. you can barely speak.

“sorry, did that scare you?” there was something uneasy about the silence that settles between you both; like a held breath, like the rabbit beneath the hawks shadow and you can feel your pulse striking your skin. the deep blue of his eyes seem to seep into you, to fill your throat to choking. you couldn’t cry out even if you dared too.

“but you came. i knew you would” a tightness he hadn’t noticed was there in his chest— eased a little, he wouldn’t lose you yet. his voice is sweet despite the carnal look he’s giving you, his eyes seem darker in this lighting.

“i thought you left.” finally you speak and your voice rises warm and resonant, sweetly pure. would you have been upset if he did? you would’ve left with him though, wouldn’t you? not that he was ever too far away, not from you, not ever.

“not without you,” he steps forward and something burns hot in you, an impatience, a certainty. like he’s telling you he’s about to have exactly what he wants, you’re about to give it to him. but something in his demeanour makes you step back, to press yourself against the door until he’s over you— caging you there, claiming you like trapped prey. the heat rises up your neck, his fingers wrap over your face and you can smell nothing but him as he curls over you. the push of his lips seem only a second away from pressing into yours. “i’d never leave you.”

“yuuta, what was that back there?” your stomach trembles and a warm drop of pleasure spreads beneath your skin. why do you want more still? you press your palms against his chest.

“i beat him once.” you can’t move, watching. you almost don’t breathe. his face is calm and blank, not tensed with effort like the strain of his voice would suggest but then his words settle and the room grows quiet again despite the music through the door behind you. it feels stuffy, you’re trembling. are you scared? “at the good-will festival.”

he eyes you for a reaction, “did you love him?” the sudden swoop of your stomach, his unsettlingly quiet anger. you were like a fish eyeing the hook.

“yuuta ofcourse i didn’t.”

“baby, i didn’t like it,” your stomach rolls, awash with nerves and relief at once. you drink him in, there’s hurt in his gaze— his bangs fall slightly over his eyes when your own hold them. “i couldn’t think..” his teeth grit and he exhales before he continues, voice returning to something sweet. like his mask slipped, even if only for a moment. “i couldn’t think about you with him,”

“the way he was looking at you.” he goes on and you rasp softly as he draws his fingertips along your jaw before he squeezes, the press of the promise ring on his finger is cold,

“you’re mine. all of you. do you remember?” his voice was warm with desire, you feel it heat across your skin. the strength of your lust, the speed in which it flowers, shocks you. you can’t breathe now but you don’t struggle, any normal person would run— would be able to see the red flags, the warning signs that are so hard to miss but you don’t. not with yuuta, not when he’s staring at you— when he’s already caught you like a wolf with the rabbit's neck between his teeth. “that’s what you said. you promised.” he strokes you with his left hand and your hips lift to the touch, you pull him closer and you tremble.

“i’m yours,” your mouth opens underneath him and the warmth of his throat pours into yours. you couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but drink him in, each breath as it came, the needy movements of his lips before his tongue follows.

it’s desperate, messy— yuuta’s claiming you like a dog. the kiss is full of teeth as he grabs at you, presses you even tighter into the door behind you as his body pushes flush against your own until your lungs quiver.

he’d normally much prefer to take you home into the comfort of your own bedroom, so he can take his time with you— pull out as many orgasms as he wants, the ones he owns without interruption. but now, he wants the whole party to know who you belong to, who’s name you moan when you cum and cream and he’ll make sure the walls remember it too. everything he does, he does for you. can’t you see that?

“i-i’m sorry, i can’t wait.” yuuta groans, exhales warm against your lips and you grab at him, your hands are in his hair to pull and he drools into the kiss— sucking at your tongue and pressing his already hard cock against the intimate skin between your thighs. “i.. i need you, baby. please.. give me what’s mine.” his words are a hormone-drunken plea and you’re hooked, drinking them up intoxicatingly— you’d let him ruin you if he asked if that same kind tone. like he hasnt already, for anyone else that is.

“i want you, yuuta. c-cant wait either.” it’s a strong pull as he moves you, but not disorientating, yet you still feel your skin burn hot where his long fingers are pressing through the thin fabric of your clothes. the fabric feels like it moulds even closer to the shape of your figure—almost like there’s nothing between his palm and your skin. he turns you both, almost stumbling across the already small bathroom, but he keeps you upright, stepping back without breaking his lips from yours until you’re pressed against the ceramic sink on the counter in the corner.

“he needs to know,” yuuta pulls away to breath deep, his palms resting against your cheeks, drawing his fingertips along them as he looks at you. “i need to know. to know it’s love.”

“i love you, i love you more than anyone.” he hums and you gasp when he finally kisses you again, cutting off your sentence before it’s replaced with a breathless exhale and he takes the opportunity to dip his tongue past your lips, allowing it to glide along your own as he tastes you.

it’s almost desperate, the way you’re pulling him closer — giving into his thoughts, his own fogged mind, you found yuuta’s devotion to be charming especially when it was coated in pretty words and compliments. he had you bending to his will, playing the part of the perfect girlfriend that he knew you’d be. you only needed him to complete you, to push you in the right direction, to love you.

you feel a coiling pleasure that’s been building tighten delightfully and his hand squeezing your waist only makes it burn brighter. you whimper against his lips and the sound drives him closer, practically pinning you against the small countertop that holds the sink behind you both until it’s squeezing against the back of your thighs.

“you’re so pretty, so warm.” yuuta groans and the deep drone of his voice curls down your spine, you can’t pull yourself away from him—not that it was even a possibility, with the way his strong grip keeps you in your place against his chest. his palms explore the topography of your hips, down your waist and up your thighs from where he’s pinning you onto the surface beneath you. he’s grabbing at you, pulling at your bones like he’ll rip you from your skin— dig through to your heart to have you, to consume you, devour you entirely and bury his love in the deepest parts that remain.

“hurry, please—” you plead against his mouth, breathing heavy with him and he feels sticky at the words, spoken against his lips. he feels his cock twitch and thicken behind his pants, he’s leaking already— heart racing from your touch alone, the kisses aswell. his thumb squeezes into your skin before he’s licking into your mouth; burying soft groans into your throat like they’re honeyed secrets and he’s losing himself in the dizzy spin of the room.

“say it first, for me.” yuuta grunts, almost begs and the kiss breaks wet as he stands tall, taps on the back of your thighs to help hoist you up onto the counter top before you jump eagerly and he’s slotting himself between them. he presses into the heat between your thighs as he almost stutters deeper, he wants nothing more than to sink into you completely.

but his relaxed bangs fall messy over his eyes with his next exhale, low-lidded and convincing. the dark glint in his eyes almost has you in a trance. “i love you, yuuta. have all of me. take it.”

your fingers tangle in his hair once more and yuuta can’t help but continue kissing you when you give him what he wants, what he needs. the hem of your skirt slinks up with his wrists, slender digits squeezing at the fat and muscle it reveals as his hands stroke up your thighs, pushing your skirt up until your legs spread around him and his fingers are trailing closer to where he needs to be most.

it happens so fast, it’s so desperate when you feel him push your panties to the side messily and the first swipe of his finger between your folds is purposeful, but rushed. he drags the rough pad of his finger beneath the hood of your clit as he rolls the sensitive bud and you twitch, grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt before the wet disconnect of his lips from yours has you whimpering softly.

the pretty sounds you make for him still make him burn.

“you’re so wet. so soft. d-does it feel good?“ yuuta hums before he’s deliberately pressing down onto your puffy clit harder, eagerly, like he knows what you’re gonna say before you even do— he does, because he knows you best, every part of you, every response and twitch. but you nod cutely and he keeps up the same pace and pressure until you’re wet enough for him to push two fingers inside, almost whimpering when he’s not met with much resistance.

his fingers are long and you hiss at the stretch but you feel something blissful flutter in your tummy when you watch him fall onto his knees between your thighs hungrily. “did he make you feel this good?” he shifts one over his shoulder as he keeps you spread, you know who he means when he gazes up at you from under his lashes. you shake your head almost frantically, panting, you can’t risk him stopping.

“its okay, i forgive you,” yuuta whispers and the words pour over your folds, “because it’s mine now. the sooner you forget about everyone else, the better. they’re not good for you, i’ll give you lots of love, i promise.” he angles his fingers inside of you up with angled purpose, like he’s showing off his knowledge of your body, of the reactions he can pull out of you so easily. but there’s some truth to his words now, he’d intentionally broken you that way— now even the press of your own fingers long to be replaced with his own.

he brushes them against the spongy spot inside of you until you’re slapping your palm over your pouty lips in a sorry attempt to muffle how needy you sound. but that won’t do, not when he’s got a point to prove— what’s his to claim, he needs everyone to hear it. who owns you, who loves you, who’d kill for you.

“don’t do that. i need to hear you, please.” yuuta’s warm breath rolls over your slick folds, it’s a second his eyes break from your own, transfixed and low-lidded with hunger as he watches his digits sink into you. until his head lowers and his tongue is curling against your clit before he’s dragging it back up, he’s watching you again when your lips part to moan and it makes his cock twitch.

it’s languid the way he pumps his fingers in and out of your wet heat, but he licks at the space between your folds like he’s starving— his movements thick with hunger and lust as he gives you another look. one that makes something sharp nip at your spine. you’re not embarrassed at how loud you’re being now because he told you it’s fine, it’s his afterall— it’s what he wants, needs, so it would be rude of you to keep that from him, what’s his— when he’s being so good for you.

the pretty sounds from your lips curl against the small walls of the bathroom and you can still hear the deep bass, the giggles and laughs from the living room despite the lewd squelching from between your thighs, drowned out with yuuta’s slurps and smacks that are currently even louder. if someone were to pass by, they’d know what was going on— who it was considering the mantra of his name that you’re repeating like a prayer. like he’s your god despite the way he’s the one worshipping you.

he continues to sink his fingers into you, swirling tantalising circles into your clit with his tongue while his fingers drag more slick out, making a wet mess between your thighs as he laps it back up and buries his face into you with a loud swallow. every noise is so much messier than the one before, echoing from his chest while your hands grab and curl in the dark roots of his hair to pull. just how he likes, the pain makes his insides almost curl, tremble and shake. he needs more.

yuuta licks into your pussy and you almost choke on a babbled cry of his name as you shake against the counter top. you feel him flatten his tongue against your sensitive clit before he’s sucking it gently between his lips and suckling until butterflies pool in your stomach.

“who are you thinking of?” your pussy throbs around his fingers and he breathes a warm sigh across your skin. your eyes clench tight as your thighs quiver against the width of his shoulders and your head drops back as his dark gaze cuts up into you. you feel him drag his tongue in slow, thorough swirls over your clit as your hips rock side to side. like you’re chasing the friction, begging for him. your actions almost answer the question itself.

“you,” your head lolls forward, but your words don’t falter— your certainty makes something burst warm along the back of yuuta’s neck as he looks up at you. he couldn’t help it, he had to check— had to make sure that you weren’t thinking of someone else as your boyfriend fucked you. it should be only him, always.

“do you promise?” he asks again, just to be sure and you blink— head rolling back when he brushes his fingers against the gummy, sensitive spot inside of you and you squeeze, cry for him.

“yes! i p-promise,”

“that’s good. you’re close, i can feel it.” yuuta tells you, purrs against your folds as he works you with practiced precision. his eyes are still on you despite the way your hips twist under his touch but his body leaves you suddenly and he pulls away to break through the suddenly suffocating layers of his clothes.

“s-sorry, i need to feel you around me. i need it. all of it.” a ragged sound leaves you at his words, as he begs to feel you and it has you feeling drowsy and pliant despite the orgasm he’s ripped from you so cruelly. he quickly reveals the soft planes of his ivory skin, shoving his slacks down just enough for his cock to spring out and smear precum along the skin of your thighs as he draws closer.

yuuta really was gorgeous in his own way, dark hair messy where it falls over his face, his hand sweeping it back before he’s stepping forward and shooting you a lidded, almost sleepy look. it was like another side to him, one that he kept hidden away— like a body under the stairs or a secret. but he’s flushed to the tips of his ears despite the shadows that pool in the depth of his gaze, and you suddenly feel like you can’t get enough air with each breath.

his dark eyes pull like the tide, no matter how you swim against it.

“yuuta, i want to cum.” his smile grows, almost giddy and sweet with how much you want him— the way you rely on him to make you feel good. the way you purr his name and grab at his skin, is this how you act for him alone? but his whole body trembles when your fingers reach forward to wrap around the base of his cock, a plea— you’re begging for him and who is he to deny you of that.

he’s all you’ll ever need, this moment was proof enough. will you let him keep you all to himself? you’d make a pretty centrepiece in his bedroom— locked away in there forever.

“i know, baby. you need me for that, remember? i told you.” you won’t be able to love anyone but me. you feel yuuta grab you in a strong grip before he’s wrapping your thighs around his hips, but any other words are choked upon when the head of his cock finally finds your flexing cunt.

you both gasp as he sinks carefully up inside you, his hands squeezing and pulling your hips closer to his as your back arches. his cock sinks into you slowly despite the need in his movements, it’s like he’s savouring the sweet pull of your body and your cunt, like he’s being lured to his demise by a siren— a succubus. he’d follow you anywhere, he’d wait for you in hell. the length of him curves upwards and feels warm inside of you, gliding so sweetly past the spots along your walls that make your whole body twitch, your pussy tightening harder around him the deeper he goes.

“you’re always s-so tight.” yuuta’s cool fingers grope just a little too hard at your hips, dragging you along his cock as he forces your walls to spread open for him and he feels something ache deep in his stomach. his desire is heavy in each laboured breath he takes as he tries to keep a firm grip on his composure— albeit it seems to slip with every saccharine squeeze of your thighs and cunt around him. but his eyes remain on you. “always.” the squeeze is like his own little reminder that nobody has touched you since he did last either. he always liked to check. to be sure.

you can only reply with a sound that’s high pitched and needy when the weight of his hips finally rest against yours and he bottoms out. but you only seems to draw him closer, pulling him into you so he can drool and smear more kisses along your features— like the way a dog would appreciate its owner. mark you in his scent. cover you in it, he’d bury you between his ribs.

you’re both sweating hard but yuuta stills feels cold, his touch soothes your overheating skin and it lights a fuse that fizzles into something that feels even better. “yuuta, please move!” he feels his toes and fingers curl when you bear down on him eagerly, greedy for it, eager for more of his love. the love that he’s more than willing to pour into you, even if you choke on it.

“s-sorry,” he finally pulls his hips back, dragging his cock out of you and your pussy squeezes down tight on him in response, like it’s trying to lure him back inside, keep him forever. you’re tightening around each inch you lose as his fingers dig bruises into your hips and he rolls them back into you, beginning a steady pace with another slow withdrawal.

he wants you louder, messier— all his.

a whimper leaves you when you feel yuuta’s head dip towards yours, his body leaning over you to smear a few more kisses along your jawline. he’s working your hips to meet the encouraging pull of his hands from where they’re messaging, squeezing your skin with his bruising grip and you drink it up eagerly.

the pace he’s sent isn’t fast, albeit not helped by the cramped space and the way he doesn’t want to hurt you, but the drive behind each thrust still remains— he’ll make love to you anywhere. always. he can’t be close enough to you, something in his bones wills him closer and he can’t look away— he wants your eyes on him, your heart in his hands, all of you bare. your soul. your entirety.

your body claps against yuuta’s as he kisses over your skin, teeth nipping at your neck hungrily, but determined to leave marks before his lips are gliding along the sensitive spots that have you twitching.

“y-you’re squeezing me, it feels so good. so p-perfect.” he looks at you again, emphasising his words with a few sharp thrusts, before his pace inevitably speeds up, he’s gripping so tight into your skin that he’ll surely leave bruises— he hopes he does. your hips press almost painfully into the cool countertop behind you but he’s bending your body like you’re clay between his palms. he can’t stop, you won’t let him.

“yuu— fuck, faster.“ you finally manage to respond, whispery and choked off, but you can’t deny the physical reaction you have to yuuta’s compliments, as always. your tight cunt bares down tight around him and you both gasp before his breaks off into something dreamier, his pace stuttering as follows it with a few slow, deep thrusts into your doughy pussy.

“i’d do anything for you.” he whispers, like a reminder smeared along your skin— he’d write it in blood if it would make you remember. “only for you.” and you bask in it, want to give back all that you can as he kisses along your face. he inhales the sweet familiar scent of your perfume that’s now mixed with his own scent and he feels something carnal boil in his stomach. “do you know that? everything is for y-you.” every twisted little scenario made to bring you closer. it’s all with your best interests in mind, to keep you with him.

yuuta repositions his feet and takes up a pace that’s a little faster, rougher, pounding into you mercilessly as he marks your skin as his—leaving blooming marks between soft kisses along your neck and jawline.

it was always intoxicating to see him like this, to feel him so unfiltered and hungry, digging orgasms out of you like he’s starving— his sexual prowess still catches you off guard, no matter how many times you’ve had him like this. the positions he’s put you in— the places he’s taken you. a groan kicks out of his chest when the harsh slap of his hips makes your thighs tighten around him, and you feel your own hips tremble, as do your lungs like you’re looking over the edge of a cliff. you’re almost blind with pleasure.

“s-so pretty, so pretty.” yuuta tells you, his praise dripping through your rocking body and down your spine and it feels like he ignites something in you— something twisted and dark. he makes your insides curl and ache as your lips drop open to moan his name and his own ragged breathing cools the spit over your ignited nerves. you’re past caring now— but he hopes they hear you. “i won’t let him touch you again. it’s not f-fair. you’re mine. i’d beat him again…. and again, and a-again.” he’s grunting, babbling, words lost and hidden between huffs of your name— pants as he breathes deep. you can barely hear him.

your nails dig into his forearms, pressing as you arch your chest against his own— pushing closer, heart to heart, “g-gonna cum—“ you gasp, lips parting in a pretty o-shape as pleasured tears gather at the corners of your thick lashes. his gaze falters for a moment, from you to your creaming pussy then back to you, and he feels like the breath is punched from his lungs at how pretty you look lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. as always. he’ll never tire of the sight of you— the smell, your touch. he’d recognise you even in darkness.

“look at me, on me, b-baby. please” yuuta’s words slur, scratchy and growly, letting his fingers trace along your sweat slicken skin to roll your puffy clit as he continues to pound against the right spot inside of you. the ones he’s memorised, that only he knows. nobody else would have you like this, so fucked-out, so pliant. you listen, you blink up at him— gaze cloudy beneath your lashes but you’re looking at him and it makes his chest squeeze, burn.

you’re more than eager to give yourself up to him completely after a few more clapping thrusts, arching your back as you whine long and wordless for him. the hot rush of bliss and warmth settles over your skin when you cum, the fluttering press of your pussy throwing you into an orgasm so intense you see white behind your eyes.

“i love y-you, i love you.” yuuta purrs, his cock flexing and it doesn’t take him long before he’s giving in to the needy coax of your cunt and spilling thick and hot inside of you. a low whine rumbles low in his throat as his body curls over yours with a sharp groan—pinning you to the cool surface beneath you as the sink digs into your skin.

the room is now filled with nothing more than your ragged pants as you both try to catch breath, but his body blankets you, he’s still much too pre-occupied pressing kisses to your cheeks and mouth to notice the way you’re shaking beneath him.

“yuuta, come on.” you giggle a few seconds later as the haze in your mind clears, the sound of your laugh makes yuuta shudder— push even closer despite the way you’re wrestling to push him off. you finally separate, peel away from eachother— your faces puffy and half-bruised from kisses.

“are you ready to go home now?” your boyfriend calls soothingly as he massages at your skin, letting your feet dangle from the countertop as he kneads at the skin between your hip and thigh. his eyes are on you as he stares at you, a whisper of a kind smile on his lips.

“okay, yeah. i’m definitely tired now.” you laugh and yuuta’s eyes close with his next smile.

“i’ll stay over. so i know you’re safe.” he helps you to your feet as he brushes down your clothes before fixing his own, pulling your panties back over your pussy before his load can leak out. he likes knowing you’re holding him, full of him— although it makes something in his bones shake at the idea of people seeing him drip from between your thighs instead. maybe next time.

“yuuta you’ve stayed over every day this week.” your words jostle him slightly from his lewd thoughts, catching him off guard so much he almost can’t hide the pout your answer brings from him. you’re smiling, but your words almost feel like a rejection.

“is that bad? i miss you when you’re not there, i get worried.. incase something happens.” yuuta’s hand captures yours as he stares at you but you don’t say anything. “if i stayed forever.. it would be easier.. to protect you, then i’d never have to leave.” the expression you’re wearing is unreadable, not giving him the slightest hint of what you’re thinking and it makes him uneasy. are you leaving him? do you not want him by your side? after all of those times you’ve asked him to be with you forever? were those lies?

if only you knew you’d never been without him, even when he’s not there he is— always, watching, protecting. it’s not hard for him to get into your apartment. you make it so easy.

“i’m sorry, too much? i just don’t want to leave you yet.” yuuta exhales, the space in his chest hurts. put him at ease. for love.

“n-no, no it’s fine. it’s cute. you can stay over.” your hand squeezes his as you go to reach for the door and he moves to let you go first— smiling down at you before the door opens and your lips part to gasp.

“huh? noritoshi?” you’re unaware of how long he’s been standing there but the flush on his cheeks and the sudden restriction in his pants would serve as proof enough if you weren’t already embarrassed. but you feel yuuta lean over you again, like how he was at the start of the night except his attention leaves you this time— his haunting gaze is focused on someone else. he’s like an animal making a show of claiming it’s mate infront of another.

“um…. sorry, were you waiting?” your words are quiet, the encounter is awkward to say the least but noritoshi clears his throat despite the way he’s deliberately looking anywhere but at the two of you.

“ah, no..” he starts, “you text me. you told me to come. i thought you may be in danger.” his phone is in his hand as he turns it to you and you’re there, your number— asking him to do just that.

“i…. didnt.” it doesn’t make sense, you don’t remember the last time you even had your phone, had you left it in the living room? was this meant as some sort of prank? but who would want noritoshi to hear you and yuuta? what sort of twisted prank was that.

“she has me. i’d protect her myself. that’s what pure love is.” yuuta finally speaks after a few moments of silence, his voice is lower than normal— not the sweet tone it takes when he speaks to you. his arms squeeze tight around your waist to pull you closer and you’re still too lost in thought to pick up on the tension between the two men in the hallway. noritoshi swallows thick and yuuta leans forward to press a kiss against your cheeks before he speaks, his gaze doesn’t budge from infront of him as he does.

“baby. we should go.” the petname is soft, back to his usual gentle tone and accompanied by the pull of his hands as he guides you back through the hallway, “excuse us.”

“yeah..” you’re confused— you’re not sure what’s happening as yuuta untangles himself from you to lead you away and suddenly you really are tired, ready to tuck yourself into bed and cuddle against your boyfriends chest. you need a well deserved shower considering how sweaty you feel underneath your clothes. but still, you can’t stop your mind from retracing your steps, you’ve not seen your phone since you got here, you remember texting maki— letting her know you’d arrived… that was the last text you sent… you didn’t bring a bag, had it fallen out of your pocket? you remember you were getting annoyed about holding it… you remember… your boyfriend… offering to keep it in his pocket.

you blink up at yuuta, but goosebumps seem to rise along the back of your neck when you notice he’s already looking back. he smiles, kind, before he squeezes at your intertwined palms as he leads you.

his hand still feels cold where it holds yours.

doesn’t it feel nice to have someone care about you so much?

© gojoath. do not copy, repost, modify or translate my works. please refrain from copying my layouts ﾉ themes.

[bunnyuki]

i like to drum my fingers in the air! just bringing my hands up a tiny bit and try to drum them in the air

if im listening to a song, i try to match it (with the rhythm, or the beat)

Do you have a favourite way to stim (whether it involves a stim object or not)? If so and you’re comfortable sharing, what is it?

[bunnyuki]

I don't answer for myself

Ya'll don't know what type of slut I will become once this panels get animated

[bunnyuki]

i love how obey me ADs are like "oh, if you touch me like that— I can't hold myself back"

then, in the actual game, it's more likely these demons faint after you give them a kiss, especially mammon lol (no hate, i love them, I love him)

[bunnyuki]

i agree with this statement

i dont want to gatekeep characters but Yuuta is for the weirdos only. the strange and offputting girlies (gn)

[bunnyuki]

UNSAID WORDS. toge inumaki

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ) gift for: @darlingspeach

CW!! AFAB READER, she/her pronouns. au fantasy/medieval. toge is a dragon, reader is a human. mentions of slaughtering/people dying/hunting. mentions of blood and injuries. he doesn't understand much of human language. this is very short and silly, i apologize. SFW, FLUFF.

YOU DON’T SEE as many dragons around as you used to. the kings of the earth and the heavens were destroyed by greed. their wings were struck by spears and cannons, their blood was collected and tested as a product. the rich wear their scales at dinner parties, because they become necklaces and delicacies. their teeth became hunters’ trophies. dragons had nothing against humanity, but humans had a desire to have everything. their ruin brought that of other peoples.

and so, the remaining dragons fled. running from the world, choosing the loneliest places to call home. deprived of reliable companions, of their companions with wings, dealing with the losses of their loved ones. nothing was left for them but memories and bones. so disappeared that they became merely legends.

fantastic stories that parents told their children to amaze them, or scare them. false and lying stories for merchants desperate to sell their products cheaply. one of the strongest, most influential and powerful races in the world. reduced to nothing more than tales. a small belief spread among the dragons. humans were dirty. rotten, spoiled. disgusting creatures that cared about nothing. the sick apple that would rot the rest of the basket. by extension, hatred for those creatures that had barely sustained themselves for a century grew. humans who encountered dragons and their treasures did not come out alive to tell the story. and no one heard from them again.

life in a village is not easy. taxes are merciless, and nobles drown in champagne while families in your village count coins to find out if they can eat. you are not exempt from this. the marquis who controls the region is obsessed with more amounts of money. the village has been going through difficulties, and with winter approaching, some have already said their goodbyes. people will die. that is a fact. for the king and his court, nothing more than numbers.

the sweet embrace of death comes to seek everyone, eventually. this is the mortal life. but that’s not how you’ll end up. huddled in a bed, on a cold morning, praying to a god who wouldn’t listen to you. you refuse. that will not be your end.

plantings have been disappointing. food becomes scarcer every day, and from what it looks like, this will be a year with lots of snow and abundant hunger. and for this reason, a good deal of adapted hunting became the main source of food and income.

the local forests are dark, specks in the middle of nowhere that is your village. full of trees and animals that need to hide from people like you. like a squirrel collecting dried fruit and nuts. all you have is a rusty knife, a crossbow with five arrows, and faith. not in god, not in greater forces. all you need is yourself.

the traps you planted exist in strategic points. hidden by grass and branches, abusing the natural environment to create the illusion of safety. merely for a noose to tighten around the body of a small animal, or a bear trap to bend into a cruel bite.

checking the traps daily has become part of the routine. just as many other villagers were forced to adapt, so were you. the skins are usually removed and worn by you. or sold.

instead of finding a small animal split in half by your bear trap, what’s in front of you now is a boy. a young one. maybe your age. his purple eyes seem to contain decades of wisdom you couldn’t dream of. his hair has an abnormal tone, like a very pale shade of blonde. he turns over and groans, his ankle caught in the trap. the metal teeth dig deeper into the flesh every time he moves, and the blood is thick and red.

but what really draws attention to him are his horns. and the tail. highs rising from the forehead and rising, white like the snow that will soon fall, with purplish tips. the same pattern for the long, tail full of scales. his nails are sharper than normal. when he opens his mouth to groan in pain, his teeth look like fangs. around his mouth, there's a strange pattern that doesn't seem to be a painting, but his skin. snake eyes and fangs.

he raises his arms to try to open the trap and free himself. the skin on the forearms has traces of scales of the same whitish tone.

his first instinct seeing you is hissing. actual hissing. like a scared snake, ready to pounce. the reaction of a scared, injured animal. you— pity him.

of course, you shouldn't. legends about dragons make it very clear what they think of your species. this boy would make you a forgotten corpse once he had the chance. but that didn't seem true. he was scared. alone, lost. his ankle caught in a trap that hurt more every moment. contrary to common sense, you choose to put the beast down and follow your instinct. approaching slowly, with your hands raised.

“easy there.” another hiss. it's a clear message. stay away. your steps are slow and you show that you are not holding any weapons. “i'm not going to hurt you. i'll help.”

no matter how sweet and loving you force your voice to be, the distrust in his eyes doesn't go away. you crouch before the stranger, staring for a moment. he is a pretty boy. you can't deny that.

your hands grip the bear trap, and you look him in the eyes. “I'm going to open this, and you're going to take your foot off. all good? on three. one. two. three.”

at the end of the count, you muster the strength your hungry muscles allow you to open the bear trap. the stranger quickly understands the message and moves away from it, allowing you to let the metal go without consequences. his hands release the trap, and it closes again with a click. the metal resonates as it strikes itself. there is fresh blood on his fingers and on the trap, and his face turns to look at the boy.

he's sitting by a tree, grabbing his injured ankle with a groan. you approach slowly again, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. his eyes narrow in suspicion.

“hey. hey, i'm not going to hurt you. okay? i promise. just let me help.” he frowns at your words, his lips parting to reply in a language you do not know. oh, well. this can be complicated.

“i don't— i don't understand.” you pause, moving to sit besides him. he furrows his brows, but doesn't say a word. “can you understand what i am saying?”

by his pout and frown, you think the answer is no. okay. what to do now, then? you quickly point to yourself, pronouncing your name out loud. then again, slowly. he repeats, the sound beautiful on his tongue. his pronunciation is a little bad at first, but the third time he's repeating it, he seems to have understood.

he follows the example, pointing to himself. “toge.” he states, and your eyes narrow.

“toge. okay. i think that's your name. you are injured.” you point out to his ankle, and he stares at you for a moment. if he could speak your language, you are sure he would be sarcastic right now. oh, don't say.

you gesture nervously, trying to sign you wish to help. after almost ten minutes of denying and hesitation, he holds out his injured foot to you. your hands are gentle, and you don't touch the injured area unless you have to. he hisses and groans in pain.

toge stares at you, decided to say something. his lips part, and he sounds confident when he says. “salmon.” you frown.

“what?”

he repeats again. salmon. seaweed. tuna mayonnaise. he only talks about...ingredients? toge is desperately trying to tell you something, confused why you don't understand the message. then it clicks. oh.

“you only know ingredient names. that's all you know in my language.” you murmur. he nods slowly, and you sigh. communicating like this won't be impossible, but it will prove itself as a challenge. but these thoughts are for later. he is injured. because of you.

it's your obligation to help this young dragon — secretly. the people in the village would take every last drop of his blood for gold coins. you'll have to improvise. “okay. uhh. does it hurt much?”

he pauses. “salmon?” another sigh escapes your lips.

this will be complicated.

[bunnyuki]

happy fact of the day (i think!). apparently, there was a collaboration between sanrio and jjk, where characters were paired up with sanrio characters. im not sure if this is official, it's what i found on a random website.

BUT. GUESS WHO SUKUNA IS PAIRED UP WITH.

yes. hello kitty. and they're baking. i have no words except i love this.

[bunnyuki]

i think usually people forget that fanfiction is supposed to be self indulgent. the whole point of it it's having fun picturing characters dealing with you, who has a certain type of personality. other people have other types of personalities, and that's totally okay. even if you have x personality type, and the reader inserted in that specific fic is a y personality type, that's okay. you can probably find some other fic that has what you want, a more blank perspective of reader, or you can write it yourself! just, being mean to writers about them writing personality into reader it's not the solution.

these stuff (fanfiction, fanart), is shared with you. by people who have decided to freely allow you to read/see/interact with their works. there will be things that not everyone likes, because no media is capable of pleasing everyone. maybe it's my personal vision of not minding when reader has a personality — i actually think it's necessary — , because i picture my oc's instead of myself.

but, yes, i agree with this post i reblogged. you can't just have the personality of a cardboard and try to rizz up sukuna, lol. that ain't working.

ppl complaining about giving readers a personality is crazy. acting like they could realistically bag a character with the personality of a cardboard box LOL

[bunnyuki]

lol..lmao even…

[bunnyuki]

special grades doodle from this week's ep

[bunnyuki]

every day I try to overcome obey me, and every day it returns

Love the thought of demon biology adapting symbiotically with humans. Like, they literally have pacts built into them, they're meant to form bonds with humans. It makes sense they would evolve for this.

Horns evolve for defending human masters.

Eyes evolve bright, lovely colors for catching human eyes the way flowers entice bees.

Hypnotism not for harm or predation but for lulling the stressed and worried.

Noses sensitive to pheromones and hormone levels for reading their master's needs.

Thick, demon cocks for stretching out squirmy little humans so perfectly.

[bunnyuki]

little pumpkin thief

[bunnyuki]

this was a commission for a very sweet person you know who you are 🥹 strong yor ™️

[bunnyuki]

served my duty as an autistic artist and made a bunch of autism creature reaction images

[bunnyuki]

*trembling, vibrating, clawing at the ground and foaming at the mouth, crawling and dragging my weak body across the ground* MUST. WRITE.

[bunnyuki]

my friend took in a stray and she’s the cutest kitty ever but he named her oil so whenever he sends a picture of her me and my other friends look like we’re roleplaying as the US military

[bunnyuki]

I am going to take a deep breath and just remind you:

Writing is messy, even for the best authors. It's supposed to feel a little uncomfortable, exhilarating, freeing, natural, and terrifying.

It's supposed to inspire you and feel like a too-heavy backpack.

Sometimes, you're going to love being a writer and sometimes, you'll feel so disconnected, you'll wonder if you were ever a writer to begin with.

Give yourself room to make mistakes and hate your work and return to it with renewed confidence that yes, you will get 1% better next time.

It's what we're all going through. Let's speed up the growing process a little by accepting the entirety of it.