#Yandere!Mahito

[absolute-flaming-trash]

For my fellow readers with sleeping issues.

Pairing: Yandere!Mahito x Reader

SFW

Word Count: 2′557

Warnings: Yandere, Stalking, Sleep deprivation, Insomnia, Mindbreak if you squint, Noncon touching, Implied kidnapping.

“I swear to fucking god...”

You grabbed the bottle of melatonin off your nightstand and held it closer to your face, as if it would magically change the outcome of your current events.

You were tired. Painfully so. Insomnia was that bitch in your life that dangled the promise of sleep just out of reach, and would laugh at each and every failed attempt you’d make to get it.

The instructions on the off-white label were practically memorized by you at this point, but you still read them anyway on the off chance you had missed something.

‘Allow 1 tablet to dissolve under the tongue once per day or as directed by a physician. Recommended to reset circadian rhythm and for those with delayed sleep phase disorder’

You threw the bottle at the wall in frustration, ignoring the rain of pills that showered down after impact. You’d clean it up later.

It wasn’t enough. The “Extra Strength” claim on the label was nothing more than marketing bullshit since you had already taken three pills, and they had done fuck all. The tears of said frustration weren’t far behind, but you quickly wiped them away with the back of your hand. You were tired as hell, yeah, but nothing worth crying over just yet. It had only been about…

You counted the hours on your fingers.

...About a day and a half.

You frowned. That couldn’t be right.

You did it again, only to arrive at the same answer.

“God damnit!”

Your aggravation was emphasized with the slam of your bedroom door behind you. You were still in PJ’s, but fuck it. It was 3am and hardly anyone would be out anyways. You were going for a walk, since maybe that would actually do something for you.

You didn’t even bother to grab a jacket on your way out the front door.

The air was warm this time of year, despite it being so late… or early, depending on how you wanted to view it.

The city and all its concrete soaked up the heat from the sun during the daytime, and it would radiate it back out once the sun had set - allowing for a 24 hour rotation of heat that made you feel like a fucking rotisserie.

You smirked a little to yourself. Another thing to blame your sleep troubles on.

Like you suspected, there was hardly anyone out. The most activity you saw was at the back door at bars where the employees were locking up for the night,  or at restaurants, where the work day had only just begun

You had no destination in mind as you walked. Thinking about one required too much effort, and you didn’t have the energy to contemplate such a thing. Besides, what good would it do to have one anyways if the point was simply to wander? Having one would make no sense.

After what felt like an hour, the ache in your feet had begun to override the blissful nothingness previously occupying your mind, and you leaned to rest against a stone wall that had been on your left side for the past little while.

Only then you noticed the significant drop of temperature in the air, and you looked around.

You weren’t in the city anymore.

At least not obviously. You were surrounded by vast amounts of green - illuminated only by the dull yellow lights that lined the paved walkway you stood on. It made the foliage that wasn’t touched by said light feel that much darker.

But it wasn’t just the lighting that made the atmosphere shift in the way it did.

No, something felt off. Similar to the sensation of being in a government building you had absolutely no business being in - but far more sinister. Goosebumps peppered your skin once you realized what it was.

Silence. Complete and utter silence.

Even the small ravine next to you seemed to make no noise.

You turned on your heel and headed back the way you came.

“Leaving so soon?”

A shriek accompanied the startled jolt of terror that shot up your spine. You whipped around expecting to find someone, only to be met with the darkness of the path.

“Hello?”

Nothing. Not even crickets answered you.

You chuckled nervously, not sure of what to make of your situation. You knew sleep deprivation, if pushed long enough, could result in hallucinations, but you didn’t think you were that far gone just yet. That was only supposed to happen after two days without sleep.

A fact, you realized with growing horror, that could already be a reality.

You resumed walking - a few steps backwards at first before you turned and faced the proper way to accommodate the hurry in your steps.

You weren’t sure of exactly where you were, but if you followed the walkway it would undoubtedly lead you to a better lit area where you could get your bearings and figure out a way back home.

Your hands made a motion to enter a pocket that didn’t exist, and you were reminded of the fact you had neither brought your jacket with you, nor your phone.

God, you were an idiot.

“You’re going the wrong way.~”

Okay, what the fuck.

You stopped again and listened as hard as you could despite the roar of blood in your ears. The temptation to call out again to the voice was there, but you immediately thought the better of it.

Not wanting to stick around longer than necessary, you began to speed-walk..

The path felt endless. The foliage you passed felt the same, and the bridge you were about to go under felt way too familiar. A part of you hoped the familiarity was due to having seen it on your way in, and not because you were actually lost.

Eerie laughter from somewhere in the darkness did absolutely nothing to ease the palpable fear crawling in your skin, and a whimper slipped past your lips.

That was definitely not a hallucination.

The bridge felt akin to a checkpoint once you were under it. It was by no means safe, rather safer. You felt a lot less exposed to the trees - the iron supports acting as a comforting barrier to the outside world; even if logic dictated you were no less exposed than before.

Your slowed steps echoed quietly off the metal as you weighed the pros and cons of venturing further down the path. The unknown danger was by no means gone, but the promise of the coming dawn along with the temporary, albeit probably false, sense of security tempted you to stay put.

You cautiously poked your head out from the safety of the bridge and listened again - waiting for more laughter - or anything else, really.

“Where the fuck are you…”

“Here.”

You froze. Deer in the headlights as you slowly turned to face the owner of the voice no more than three feet behind you.

There was something so incredibly unsettling about the way he looked at you. He was smiling, yes, but there was something so Uncanny Valley about it that it had all instincts screaming at you to do one thing, and one thing only.

Run.

“Hey.” He said, far too casually.

Your eyes flicked over his appearance - lingering much longer than intended on the numerous stitches that ran across his face.

When you accidentally locked eyes with him, you gulped.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing.” You began, “But I want you to leave me alone.”

The stranger raised his eyebrows, his three sections of pale blue hair falling to the side as he tilted his head curiously.

“What, no ‘hello’ back? That’s quite rude of you.”

You laughed, but there was no humour in the sound whatsoever. “My apologies. Please leave me alone.”

“I heard you the first time.” His expression fell into one of boredom while he flicked a piece of lint from his shirt. He clicked his tongue when his eyes came back to yours. “You’re out late, aren’t you?”

Your smile was all nerves. “I suppose.”

He hummed in acknowledgement and continued to look at you. Eventually he bowed ever so slightly towards you, but you couldn’t help but feel it was completely ingenuine.

“My name is Mahito.”

You smiled thinly. “Pleasure.”

He grinned and resumed his full height with a hand on his hip. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“That’s because I didn’t give it.”

The lull of silence that fell between you was nothing short of awful, and you flinched when he finally laughed. It was sharp as it echoed across the underbelly of the bridge.

“Well, aren't you cute?”

“Not really.”

Mahito ignored your answer and leaned in closer, if that were even possible. “I think you are.”

You felt like you were going to be sick on the spot. “Thanks…” You cleared your throat awkwardly. “But if you’d pardon me, I’d like to go home now.”

You went to step around him, but his movements mirrored yours - keeping the path behind him blocked.

“Now? We only just started talking.”

His exaggerated pout made you feel a nauseating combination of pissed off and afraid. “Yes. Like you said, it’s very late.”

“So why are you out here?”

“That’s my business.”

“Trouble sleeping?”

Time stood still after he said that, and the anxiety must have shown clearly on your face because his smirk only widened. “I read humans have issues with that.”

Humans. Not ‘people’. Humans.

Your brow furrowed and you moistened your lips before you spoke.

“We do.” You said slowly, “But what makes you think I do?”

“You threw your sleeping pills against the wall, I’d say that’s a clear sign you’re still having issues.”

If the world didn’t stand still before, it certainly did now.

Unlike before, he wasn’t smirking. He said it as it was - a fact. Neutral expression and everything. It only served to make the drop of your heart into your stomach feel like freefall.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words came out as a stutter.

Mahito watched your face the entire time you struggled with yourself and used the moment to nonchalantly walk closer to you - debris crunching quietly under the soles of his bare feet as he did.

“...Still?”

He grinned and reached out to push a strand of your hair out of your face with a single finger. “Bottle says to see a doc after you use it for more than four weeks, I’d say you’re pushing it.”

You flinched back from him before he could touch you, repulsed. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I told you, I’m Mahito.” He sighed and looked skyward for a moment, mumbling to himself. “Although I suppose sleep deprivation can result in problems with short-term memory…”

The tautness in your chest increased, and each breath became more difficult to suck in. It was all too much at once, and his complete dismissal of how goddamn creepy he was being only served to add to the fear.

He had been watching you, and clearly had been for a while. A fact only made worse by the knowledge that you hadn’t the faintest idea the entire time it had been happening - however long that had been.

“Did-” You cringed at the way your voice caught in your throat. The croak-like noise brought Mahito’s attention back to you immediately. “Did you follow me here?”

He cocked his head again to the side, “You shouldn’t ask questions you know the answer to, it’s not polite.”

You wanted to fucking cry.

You didn’t know what to do. Honest to god, you had absolutely no idea what to do or say anymore after a response like that because what was there to do?

You were alone. In the middle of a place you had never been with a person you had never met - one who was clearly out of their fucking mind.

Mahito giggled and he reached out to touch you again. “Your soul is trembling, am I making you nervous?”

Frankly you had never been more afraid in your life, and something in your brain snapped when his fingers made contact with your skin.

You ran.

Fight or flight was one hell of a bodily response. Gone was the tightness in your chest and back was the roar of blood in your ears as you sprinted down the path. The boost of adrenaline served its purpose - allowing your muscles to take on the inordinate amount of strain required to get you as far away from danger as possible.

A prospect that you didn’t expect to succeed as much as it did.

There was a large part of you that expected to get hit from behind - to go from hauling ass to eating shit in a matter of seconds, but it never happened.

No, what did occur was far, far worse.

There was an earth-shattering crash before the world disappeared. You had enough time to slap your palms over your ears before the scenery around you was literally pushed out by impossibly large, ink-like hands.

Whatever hands didn’t wall off your only chances of escape were used to pull you into a kingdom of darkness.

When you looked up, you didn’t see stars in this warped cosmos - only thousands of hands linked together in seemingly random patterns. There was no logic, only the horrific truth that solidified itself the more these hands clasped themselves together above your head.

You were trapped.

Even still, a part of you wondered if you were really here. If this was truly something happening to you of all people, and not some sick, horrendous nightmare conjured by several doses of melatonin at once.

That would make the most sense, wouldn’t it? That you were trapped in your mind rather than whatever horrors in front of your eyes - and it would only take a pinch of your skin along with  the will to wake up to set yourself free.

But any hope of that was shattered by the call of your name and the feeling of a hand on your shoulder.

He knew your name. Of course he did. It would be incredibly stupid to think he wouldn’t if he had really been following you for as long as he alluded to. He had only been playing dumb beforehand so you would offer up your name to him freely.

On top of everything else, he was a fucking hypocrite.

You let him turn you freely - offering little resistance as he had you face him once more, and he cupped your face in his hands. You closed your eyes, unable to deal with the intensity of the blue and gray staring into your soul.

“Normally I hate this, but I have to thank you.” He murmured, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “The pills were only meant to wear you down. Coming out here… you made this easy for me.”

The burn of hot tears behind your lids worked as an incentive to keep them shut, and you bit your cheek hard - hoping that the taste of your own blood would keep you grounded enough not to break in front of whatever creature that held you in its grasp.

But unlike Mahito, you were only human.

And you tasted salt when cold lips pressed to your own.

© absolute-flaming-trash 2023. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.

Taglist: @sai-my-beloved, @we-are-so-close, @biby-24k, @forcefulkitten​, @siphite​, @meefy​, @liquorishred​, @kateaesthetic​ 

[mango-bango-bby]

For Snow Day ❄️, how about a play date with Platonic Yandere Mahito and Gojo’s child. The two of them sneak off somewhere and get up to all kinds of mischief while playing in the snow.

♡ Snowy Morning ♡

(A/N: Platonic Mahito really is just a bad influence on Gojo’s kid 😭😭😭 He would definitely just steal you away just so you two can cause mischief haha!! He’s just a menace)

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, platonic yandere, child!reader, kidnapping, Mahito is a secret softie 💞

Summary: Mahito plays in the snow with you (Platonic!Yandere!Mahito x Child!Reader ft. Platonic!Yandere!Gojo x Child!Reader)

Holiday Event ➸ ♡

Masterlist ➸ ♡

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You stare out of your window, staring at all of the snow that’s covering the ground and the snow falling down onto the window sill. You wanted to go outside to play into the snow but you knew today was Gojo’s day off.

You didn’t want to wake up your father, despite how much you wanted to play outside. You knew that he would he get up and go outside into the snow with you if you asked him but you didn’t want to wake him up.

You stare down at your dolls, bored and just thinking about playing in the snow. Until you hear what sounds like something being thrown against your window. You climb up to your window, a large smile on your face at the sight of Mahito in the garden.

He had been visiting you to gain your trust so he could get to your father. However you didn’t know that, seeing him as one of your only friends. Gojo was way to protective of you and because of that you didn’t know anyone. You only knew Gojo, Megumi, and Nanami. So when you met Mahito while playing in the garden, you gladly agreed to be his friend even if he told you not to tell your father.

You smile outside the window, pressing your face up against the glass and waving at Mahito. He waves back, a smile on his face. He uses his hand to gesture you to come down to him in the garden.

You think for a moment looking behind you as if Gojo was going to be there. You think before running down to the cost racking, grabbing your coat, putting on your mittens, scarf, and boots.

You run outside into the snow, running up to Mahito and hugging him despite his surprise. He was going to just use you to get your father to kill him. But lately he hasn’t been so sure. He still plans on killing Gojo. But as much as he hates to say it, he got a soft spot for you. He doesn’t want to hurt you.

He had gone soft for a sorcerers child of all things. You look up at him smiling. He hasn’t visited you in the past few days, because your father was out there with you. “Are you here so we can play in the snow” you ask, a large smile on your face. Mahito glances back up at the house before answering you.

“Yep, sure am. But how about we go to a park instead of here? Aren’t you tired of being stuck here all the time?” Mahito asks, watching you nod a little. You do such as if you’re ashamed that you sometimes want to leave the home that your father almost keeps you trapped in.

Mahito grabs your hand, leading you out as you skip in the snow. Your day will be filled with snowball fights, snow angels, and trying to catch snowflakes on your tongue. However Mahito isn’t sure if he’s going to let you go home. Wouldn’t you just be so much happier with him?

He could be a sort of older brother to you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

[yanderenightmare]

Mahito x darling

TW: NSFW, noncon, psychological torture, Mahito in and of himself

fem reader

Mahito is so scary because you're the only one who sees him. 

You can't tell your friends, you can't call the cops, you can't even discuss it with your therapist for fear of being committed. 

You're all alone with him – half the time convinced you’re going insane.

He doesn't even need to kidnap you. Why would he? He likes your cozy apartment. To see you in your natural habitat with all your personal trinkets. Your books, your decorations, the contents of your fridge, your makeup, your clothes, not to mention the soft warmth of your bed…

Sure, his sewer has its charm, but you probably wouldn’t like it there very much. Not that it would stop him, but he’s sure you’d be boring if all you did was stay cooped up there all day. 

This is much more interesting. To be there when you come home from work, having trifled through all your belongings, dragged everything out – made a mess like a new puppy would. To watch you try to cling to your sanity, going about life, trying to live it normally even when he’s right there on your sofa wanting to dish about how much you loath your pissy boss or that loud neighbor and what fun it might be to kill them.

You brush him off as intrusive thoughts – a manifestation within your mind. That’s the only explanation that allows you to keep your wits with you.

But it’s become hard to bring anyone home. Even though others can't see him, he’ll walk about your friends and the odd date and comment on all the things they do, ridiculing them when they say something cheesy, feigning puking before giving it away with a snicker, then asking you why you bother hanging out with them at all. And you wonder if that’s what you really think… why else would a figment of your imagination say something like that?

No. You decide. He doesn’t represent your thoughts. He’s just… a roommate who knows no boundaries. 

Funny enough, you don’t really recognize that he’s any dangerous before you’re getting dressed after a shower, opening a drawer on your dresser you rarely look in – only to find it overfilled with dozens of tiny shrunken heads.

You scurry back on the floor with your hand clasped over your mouth until your back meets your bed – skin crawling. There’s no air left in your lungs from the shock to produce any such thing as a scream – so instead, you start heaving – then crying.

“Oh – I was wondering when you’d find them!” A cheer is heard from your bedroom threshold.

Your eyes pan to look at him – or it. Mahito, with a big grin on his face – clapping as though impressed by your performance.

“Wh-what – what is this?” You splutter, trying not to throw up – casting shifty glances over at the lump that had fallen to the floor – its face twisted with agony, unrecognizable, but you think you still knew… “What have you done?”

It doesn’t smell of rot, but something else – like unwashed clothing – sweat and piss and shit – you don’t understand how you hadn’t smelled it before. You don’t understand how you hadn’t heard it before – the moaning, though only in hoarse weak voices, still there, in a chorus, crying in pain.

“I’ve been studying them.” He says – casually, padding across the floor before bending down to pick the one up.

He looked at it with disappointment, throwing it up and catching it like one would a baseball – then clicked his tongue. 

“But I must say you’ve got boring taste… I don’t feel like I learned much of use from any of them at all.” 

He drops it to the floor in a fleshy splat, and you cringed anew – wanting to crawl away, wanting to get out, to call the police – maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to be committed – maybe there was something genuinely wrong with you…

Mahito doesn't share your concerns, though. He’s got his mind on other things. 

“I think I’ll learn better through practice.”

You don’t realize what he’s talking about before you’re being lifted up on the bed and then pushed down against it.

His lean but muscular frame has you dwarfed as he crawls after you – caging you between his arms and legs.

“I wouldn’t mind the floor, but I’m sure you’d prefer the bed. That’s how you humans usually like it, right?” He smiles – as though he’s doing you a favor. 

He’s taken off his usual tunic – showcasing a pale grey chest patchworked together in crude stitches – and you don’t really understand why you’d ever conjure something that looked like it. So human, yet still… so not. 

“I didn’t know what size you’d want – they were all so different – but I think bigger is better, isn’t it?”

It doesn’t register before you feel the weight of it on your stomach. 

Fat and warm, ridged with veins and hard against you. 

Looking down, feeling the situation settle on your skin like the raw cold – you realize, though you don’t understand it – Mahito isn’t just some imaginary friend. 

Whatever he is – he’s no such thing as a friend at all.

Your chest flares. “Mahito, no – ”

Your hands fly to try and push him off, but they’re easily caught. His fingers stretch inhumanly like playdough, using only one hand to reign in both wrists, pinning them to the pillow above you.

“No? Still too small?” He asks, as though your uproar had been a cry for more – his voice in a playful lilt. “I can make it bigger if you like~”

You squirm when the thing between your thighs grows an inch – swelling up into something fatter than your wrist – weighty and twitching atop you. 

It alone churns your guts, but the sight of his face gleaming so innocently makes it all so much worse. 

You whimper as he drags a rude finger through your folds – bluntly poking at your hole.

“You’re supposed to be wet, no?” He posed, keen eyes watching your face grimace in discomfort – drilling his digit inside you despite it. 

When knuckle-deep, he curled it, nail scraping into the gummy of your tender walls – making your whole body twist with an ache, shaking your head while sinking your teeth into your lip.

“Stop-” You croaked pitifully, still trying to wring your wrists free – but the hand keeping them jailed had hardened into something that was no longer skin.

He just yawned at your struggle. “So noisy...” Bored while looking down at you and the ugly way your lips curled at his crude fingering – but then his eyes widened. “Wait – oh! I get it now! So, this is what kissing is for…”

He didn’t give you much time to turn away before his mouth locked on yours – more in an attempt to swallow than to kiss, feeding you his tongue – which felt so much longer than it should be – winding through you until it licked your gag-reflex and made you choke.

You tensed in response, clenching the finger prodding you – and he took it as an invitation to squeeze another in – making you squeal out a sob in his mouth. 

But though it was a cruel ministration, it was enough to tickle the instinct – dragging wet out from within you, bathing the digits that now slid with greater ease in and out.

“See~ I told you I’d learn better through practice...” He mumbled against your lips – having felt the change – also noticing the quiet that befell you… looking so cute beneath him. 

He chuckled – the taste of your kiss still warm and wet on his lips.

“That really did shut you up, hm~ you humans are so funny.”

That thing resting heavily on your belly does a little jump, and you flinch with it. Left panting after being throat-fucked by a tongue – you’re really only able to shake your head as he slips the beastly thing down between your thighs – its fat head licking your clit on its way until kissing your entrance.

Two fingers haven't done you any justice – nothing could – to prep you for something of that size.

“I think this is correct…” He muses, nudging himself against the slim coin-sized hole – looking a little confused while he did so – though not exactly unsure of himself… more as though it was the whole procedure in and of itself that was at fault and not him. He was just following instructions, after all.

Sucking his teeth at the tautness, he continued to press the tip through you. 

A whine was ripped from your chest as it arched off the bed – thighs quaking on each side of his hips, kept spread despite wanting to force themselves shut.

“It’s better if you relax.” He offered then, though without much sympathy. Sounding almost jaded – as though you were keeping him waiting. 

But then a thumb pressed down on your clit, forcing another jolt to rush through you. 

“Women like to be touched here, right?” He rubbed crass circles into it – worse than amateurishly – rough patterns that bore no real intention of making you feel good. 

Then his mouth slid from your mouth, down your neck – only to sink teeth in your tit.

“And here~” He giggled while nomming your nipple, rolling the little nib between his teeth before flicking over it with his tongue again and again, sucking on it harshly.

None of it made you relax like he’d suggested. Either way, he continued to sink his length one thick chub at a time as fast as your hole allowed. And soon enough, he reached your end before your hole could reach his. But that was no issue…

The hand on your clit, cupped your mound instead – and beneath it, where warmth pooled, you felt inner things alter – change, rearrange, allowing the giant member inside you to sink deeper even though you knew there couldn’t possibly be any deeper to go.

“Wow~ look at that…” He awed when his pelvis smushed against your mound – kneading into your clit as he pressed a curious hand down on the bulge he was making in your belly.

Strings of drool stuck from his lips to your chest – and a sick look pooled in his eyes.

Thicker and thicker breaths left him. He swallowed thickly. Barely blinking.

“I think I get it now…” His voice had shed its humorous tone, now sounding soft with something you didn’t want to have the attention of. “It’s like our souls are playing together…” 

His hand stroked your stomach – like he was petting something.

“Feels good.”

[yandere-daydreams]

i'm being forced by myself to make a proper post for this poll. may gojo reign as a codependent king for years to come.

Cuteness Aggression With The Yan!JJK Boys.

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Mahito, and Sukuna.

TW: Kidnapping, Unhealthy Relationships, and Implied Non/Con.

Gojo is near-violent. Expect to be constantly covered in bruises from his habit of full-body tackling you whenever he notices you're wearing one of his shirts or curled up in his bed or quirking your lips in the way he's never been able to resist. Tends to hold onto you for a while, too, keeping you pressed against him while he squeals and coos about how adorable his partner is, making you sound like more of an especially beloved pet rather than a live-in captive. No amount of squirming will distract him, either - he's going to be there until someone literally pries him off of you which, because there's a good chance he's already got you locked up tight in that luxury penthouse of his, isn't going to be anytime soon.

Geto is more used to receiving affection than dulling it out, so he doesn't really know what to do with himself when he's suddenly overwhelmed with the temptation to wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze until you stop laughing in a way that makes his heart want to beat out of his chest. In the end, he sorta just,,, picks you up and starts carrying you around like a giant cat. Maybe pinches your cheek when you inevitably start complaining and ask to be put down. Cult members who ask why you've been slung over his shoulder for the past hour and a half are immediately done away with and curse-users don't fair much better.

Nanami, as the only (relatively) emotionally-regulated person on this list, takes it in-stride. He tries not to force affection onto you, so he'll settle for a few headpats and maybe a kiss to your forehead, if you aren't absolutely terrified of him at that point. If you catch him in a more vulnerable state, either injured or exhausted, he might be a little more forceful - wrapping an arm around your waist and hauling you against his chest, where he can hold you until you eventually give-in and stop struggling, but at least he tries to hold himself back. Sometimes. Maybe. If you're lucky, that day.

Toji is almost as bad as Geto, but not quite as awkward. He tends to scoop you up, drag you away from whatever you're doing, and lay you down where he can pepper your face with kisses and whine when you shove at his chest. He usually lets you go after a few minutes, but it's in your best interest not to squirm too much until he does. He'll just smirk and kiss your neck and say something about how precious his little sweetheart is being, today. The fondness-motivated aggression is short-lived. What he'll do if you give him the idea that you might need more of his affection won't be.

Mahito is twice as unhinged as Gojo and only half as self-conscious. His only saving grace is that, by the time he gets genuinely overwhelmed by something you do, you're going to be used to weathering his constant attempts to suffocate you via forty-five minute hugs. When he realizes how cutely you wince when he pokes a fresh bruise and decides he has to dig his teeth into your shoulder and refuse to let go about it, you'll probably be too used to his ""affection"" to do anything other than sigh and make sure he doesn't severe anything important, this time.

Sukuna is, in his defense, rarely gentle about anything, so you really can't expect him to have a gentle reaction when he sees what an adorable reaction you wear as you wait for him to take his first drink from the chalice you laced with you most recent poisonous fixation. You can kick and thrash all you want as two of his arms loop under yours and pull you onto his lap, as he cups your face and shoves tongue down your throat and wonders aloud if you taste as endearing as you look. He always keeps you by his side, but for the rest of the day, he won't be satisfied unless you're practically on top of him, riding on his shoulders or straddling his thigh. He'll even drink your deadly little elixir straight from the bottle, if you ask him to. It won't work, but you know, it's the thought that counts and all <3

[cheesecakethots]

thinkin’ about mahito obsessing over a nervous wreck of a darling.

you run into him on a busy street, stammering out apologies and barely glancing up from your feet. you don’t notice the strange looks you’re given from strangers around you, strangers who see you talking to no one.

you go on with your day, and so does mahito, despite the amusement he got from the interaction. the next time you meet is when you catch him mutilating someone in a dark alley.

you don’t scream, knees buckling and mouth agape, instead trembling with wide eyes and a dry throat. he tilts his head at the sight of you, dropping the corpse with a bright laugh, “oh, it’s you!”

your life is never the same after it.

he follows you everywhere, essentially making your home his second place of residence, that is other than the sewers. your already horrible sleeping pattern becomes horrific with him around. a lot of the time he’ll sit at the head or foot of your bed, resting his face on his hands and watching you almost dreamily. the expression only grows in cheerfulness at any increasing fear you have.

he’ll follow you to work, practically hanging off of your shoulder and peering over at everything you do. if a customer is particularly rude or flirty with you, he might stand behind them and call out to you from across the room, asking if you think he should make their eyes pop out of their skull. he hasn’t done anything of the sort yet, but you know that probably won’t last for long.

he’ll follow you when you go out to hang around with the few friends you have. he’ll start pretending that he’s about to stick his hand through their chest only to see you panic and embarrass yourself, and then he’ll roll around in a ball, laughing his ass off. you soon start cutting yourself off from your friends. mahito prefers it that way; you don’t want to see him jealous.

really, he thrives off of your anxiousness and the reactions you give him. oh? touching you here elicits a squeal? what if he licks your lips, how will you react then? gosh, he finds your stammering so cute. he finds you so cute. sometimes he wishes to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze you, but he manages to refrain, at least enough so that his tight hugs don’t actually damage or kill you.

he’s not particularly fond of the idea of others making you nervous like he does, however he can admit it was adorable when he introduced you to those he “works” with, and you hid behind him a little, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt with a shy hand. he hadn’t let you out of his arms for a few hours after that, occasionally whining about how cute you were acting and roughly ruffling your hair with his face.

it might be a good idea to start finding someone who can take care of him, as the idea of keeping you locked in your own home or dragging you to the sewers is becoming more and more appealing by the day.

[rottenomelet]

yandere jjk thoughts

warning:: nsfw! i’m eighteen and you should be too! hints of kidnapping, non-con, and coercion. nothing is ever really explicitly stated but - still.

a/n: there’s no real rhyme or reason behind this - winter is just my favorite time to snuggle up and read about crazy ppl. also i wrote this in lowercase originally so u see a spot i missed, no u didnt. u can leave requests for different characters if u wanna

Gojo Satoru

In no world could I ever imagine Gojo Satoru treating you like a real human being.

He is the strongest. There is no one who could destroy him. He can see all. And the issue isn’t just that he’s the best, it’s that he’s been told that since the day he opened his bright eyes. He has a big ego and it’s justified because there is no one better than him.

And sure he’ll indulge you. He'll laugh at your jokes and console you when you cry. But in the back of his mind, in every kiss to your forehead, in every smile, there will always be a domineering aspect. Because he knows that you are insignificant in the grand scheme of the world. you are only important because he deemed you worth something.

You’re not quite a toy or a pet to him. You’re more like - an indoor plant to him. Something that needs nurturing from his caring hands, watering and sunlight granted to you by him. You adapt and grow according to his needs and his conditions. But at the same time, you are to be cherished. never handled too roughly, case you begin to wilt. You don’t have to do much but sit and be nurtured and be pretty while he gives you whatever he deems necessary for your survival.

It fascinates him, really, how simple your little life is. How much you don’t know and never will know because as a flower, all you need to understand is that water and sunlight and love are given to you before you’ll even realize that you need it.

But you still have a job to be pretty and sometimes that’s sitting on the bed, still, as he observes you or bouncing on his cock. It just depends on the day.

Geto Suguru

Suguru is a calm man, a quiet man. He makes decisions based on logic. He is not exactly one for emotional outbursts, and even at his angriest, he rarely raises his voice.

But you.

A little non-sorcerer that can’t even see curses somehow made him look twice. Little unimportant you constantly runs through his mind. What you’re doing, what you’ve eaten, what places you’ve gone to. Who you’ve talked to, who your friends are. Your hobbies, your interests. Your lips and your eyes and that special something between your legs.

Just thinking about you, even innocently, makes him harden. It’s uncomfortable, it’s infuriating, it’s maddening.

He thought, surely someone in your family was a sorcerer, a powerful one at that. But no, your family is normal. You are, genetically, as average as they come.

He doesn’t treat you softly at first, doesn’t have a mind to. You’re a filthy little nothing, after all. When he fucks, he fucks without care. Suguru treats you like a doll, not made of porcelain but made of cloth, one he can throw around and still be in decent condition. He keeps a hand pressed to your mouth, to keep your voice down. A blindfold around your eyes so he doesn’t have to look into them. Your hands are bound behind your back so you don't touch him even by accident. Flat on your stomach, unable to see or feel or say anything is how you find yourself every time. He doesn’t even come inside of you, the only thing you’re grateful for.

It’s scary, how roughly he treats you. But it’s downright terrifying when he begins to lay softer hands upon you, begins to kiss instead of bite, caress instead of pinch.

Nanami Kento

He is a very traditional and stern man.

You are, silly, to him. stumbling and bumping and in general, unsure of yourself and what to do. But he sees potential. Even when you’ve tripped over thin air or broken something by accident, there’s a certain grace to your movements. A grace he wants to harvest and invest in.

And while he wants to give you direction, he also doesn’t have the patience or time to teach you like he wants. So, it’s best to ‘learn on the job’ when it comes to Kento.

Learn how to cook his favorite meals and bake the sweets he loves just right. When he’s okay with speaking and when he needs quiet. Remembering to kiss him goodbye every morning and remove his coat for him every night.

Learn how to suck his cock right - which vein is most sensitive, when to suckle and gag and slurp, what noises to make, and remember to always always swallow. He hates messes after all.

Learn his favorite positions. The lingerie sets he like best. How loudly he wants you to be. Accept his cum in your tummy with a smile.

It’s not hard - please him and you will be rewarded. Rewarded with pleasure, with time outside, with gentle hands.

And if you stumble or forget, he will easily remind you of your job.

Mahito

You’re his personal entertainment. You’re an experiment.

Mahito is incredibly laid-back, even lazy to an extent. He lets you roam and explore and fall. He doesn’t care what you do as long as you stay within the four walls he’s placed you in.

It's hard to understand him. For a curse, he’s always laughing, finding almost child-like joy in the most odd things. Whether that’s watching an animal documentary or wondering if a human’s neck can extend like the turtles on TV.

One thing you do know is that he likes games and he likes playing with you. The only problem is you don’t when the game starts and ends, the rules or even if you’re playing right. Oftentimes, you find yourself playing a game that you don’t know the rules of and Mahito has named himself the gamekeeper.

He usually starts by asking a question. Something simple like “What time did you wake up?” or “What did you eat today?”. You find out the hard way that no matter what you say, you’re always wrong.

Say you woke up at ten? Then you’ll find yourself pressing into the mattress, drooling on your pillow as he drills you, punishing you for waking so late in the day. You had a slice of cake earlier? Then don’t be surprised when you’re in the kitchen licking icing off his cock as punishment for an unhealthy lunch.

Itadori Yuuji

He's the jock that gave you a chance. That made you feel special and pretty and popular.

He's sweet. He gives you his hoodie when you’re cold. He drives you home after school. Buys you lunch when you can’t afford it. Takes you on nice dates.

He wants you sitting front row at all his games, wearing his varsity jacket so everyone knows you’re his girl. He twirls you and kisses you in front of the whole school when he wins, the whole thing right of a cheesy rom-com.

But, surely, you didn’t think he was doing all that for free? No, he wants compensation. He deserves a reward for treating you so sweetly. It's only fair.

It doesn’t matter if you’re ‘not ready’. No, no, you’re just nervous, sweetheart. But he’ll be gentle with you so calm down. Yeah, calm down when he slides a hand up your skirt on a date to the movies. Be quiet when he asks you for head in the janitor’s closet between classes. And don’t make a fuss when he slips his cock inside of you, raw, even though you begged him to use a condom.

‘Rubbers hurt,’ he says. ‘It feels better raw’,’ he pleads. ‘Don’t worry - I'll pull out.,’ he promises.

And you better be understanding when he comes inside of you. Afterall, he’ll buy you a plan b.

Choso

Whatever you do, do not stress this man.

He’s going through enough as is. The last thing he needs from you is any attitude or ungratefulness. Even an upset face will have you with your knees pushed beside your head and Choso making you scream, all while watching you with that same tired expression.

Choso is the oldest of ten siblings. He is used to dealing with bratty behavior. He handles your tantrums with grace - once you’ve finished throwing things and screaming, he’ll only ask if you're finished. And then he will be upon you.

But, beyond punishment, he is caring and quiet. He prefers it when you speak, likes it when you prattle on about your day or your favorite show. He likes it when you’re happy.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Omg hi are your requests still open??? No pressure!

Unfortunately I am here as a Mahito simp and your twoshot of him has me in a chokehold. I’ve re-read that an ungodly amount of times now. That said, I can’t get the thought out of my head of Mahito noncon-ing a reader he likes who can’t see him, who is eventually able to see him in the midst of the act. Aaaaaa

sfjklsdkljsdkfjsdklfjsdlksj oh my god bestie you absolute genius hold on- alsosorrythistooksolong

(Dark!Mahito x reader)

Bed Bugs

(Yandere, dark content, implied somno, noncon, dubcon, choking-but veryvery brief)

You've been waking up sore lately.

Maybe you aren't sleeping, right? Maybe it's your bed. It might not be expensive, but you bought it solely for comfort.

The pain comes from your thighs. Aching. Numb. And if you looked closely, you swore you could see bites-

Bed bugs. That had to be it.

"I hate those fuckers," your friend groans, "I got a couple bites when I was staying in that cheap motel back in California? Lasted for a week."

"I was looking at exterminators. Everything's so expensive these days," you mutter, swirling your latte, "I don't even know how I got them. Ridiculous."

She hums. The cafe was quiet during this time, not too many customers. The two of you were tucked away in a booth, still nursing the expensive coffee. You'd already heard her rant about the inflation.

"Y'know, my friend's older brother has some kinda' homerun pest control gig. I can ask him about it. Maybe he can give you a discount? I'm pretty sure he specializes in termites but I don't think there's a real difference."

You eye her. "Yeah, no. Termites aren't in any way close to bed bugs. Besides, don't they use acid for termites? I'd still like to sleep on a bed that doesn't give me skin problems."

"See? I'm giving you solutions, and you keep rejecting them," your friend sighs, "I give up. I think you just got roommates now."

You laugh, about to respond, when you feel something dangerously close to your inner thigh. You glance down. Nothing.

"Uh, speaking of roommates, what did you say was happening with yours?" You change the subject, shifting in the booth.

"Oh yeah! Her and Dan are getting pretty serious, I think she's gonna move out soon."

"Oh really?" The touch came back. Harder. More insistent. You gasp when something grabs you by the hips, squeezing.

Your friend gives you a look. "You okay?"

You look around again. Nothing. Again.

"Um, yes! I am." You managed to respond, "Sorry, sorry, just....long day."

You clear your throat, plastering on a smile as you listen to her prattle about the drama in her life. Her voice distracts you from your thoughts swirling in your mind. Each getting more ridiculous than the last. 

You swore it felt like a...hand.

Work kicked your ass today. 

You'd never been so tired, practically falling asleep on the train. Crowded as always. You scrunched your nose as yet another person conveniently forgot to wear deodorant that day. Wonderful. 

At least, the day was over. You could resign to being as unproductive as possible for the rest of your night. 

You scroll through the forum. Almost everyone said that bed bugs- Cimex lectularius because now you've researched them so much you know their scientific name- are a losing battle. The final verdict is to get rid of your mattress immediately. Either that, or you'd need to call a specialized exterminator that cost at least twice the price of your current mattress. You didn't know which was the worst deal. 

You ignore the first few touches. Trains. Crowded area. People who don't understand boundaries. It's the swipe on your ass that makes you turn around and glare at the likely culprit. A sleazy-looking man in his late-forties. He barely even reacts, just arching a brow at your look. 

Typical. You inch away from him, squeezing past the other bodies until you're well past the other side. You lean against the window, blocking yourself from any other unwanted touches. Finally. Some peace. 

Until it started back up again. 

Something solid presses against you. Like-like a wall. Insistent, begging to be noticed. You're forced back, squished against the already small space. It wasn't your imagination. You can't delude yourself. It was real. A real hand was pressing against your pants, right above your clothed pussy. 

But there was no one there. 

What the fuck. 

The rhythm is rough, forceful as the hand starts grinding on your clit, sending tingles up your spine. You let out a confused whine, slapping a hand over your mouth as you squirm fruitlessly against whatever the fuck this thing was. You can't stop it. It's too much. Too sudden. You want it to stop but it takes you higher and higher and higher and-

It's gone just when the train rolls to a stop. All at once, the opposing wall disappears. You stumble out of the doors, legs shaking, panting. 

There's a whisper of a laugh right by your ear. You realize you're very wet.

What. The. Fuck. 

You could have deluded yourself into thinking it was a hallucination. That you were so tired from work you had an orgasm untouched. It sounded ridiculous, but it was plausible, right? Stranger things have happened. 

But, it just kept happening. 

The touches range. Sometimes, it's just a brush against your shoulder. A poke on your cheek. Other times it's more insistent. You can still remember the sharp spank on your ass in your very much-alone apartment. 

You were starting to think you might not be so alone, anymore. 

The worst was when you were out in public. It always happened in public. You'd be at work, typing on your computer when you'd feel a sensation on your pussy, grinding on you until you're close to cumming. When you'd break away to hide away in the bathroom, you'd always find your panties soaked.

Sometimes, you find yourself typing something ridiculous on your computer. Are ghosts real? Can apparitions touch the living? 

In one of these rabbit holes, you stumble across the word Spectrophillia. Forums of tons and tons of people sharing their own experiences that are eerily similar to yours. A woman describes her encounter with her own aspiration, saying that the thing had physical teeth, a physical tongue, a physical- 

You stop reading after that. A horny ghost. Is that seriously what you were dealing with? You weren't raised religiously, so the idea wasn't very appealing. 

Luckily, your doctor was a woman of science. 

"The symptoms you're describing are a very common indication of stress." She types away on her computer. 

You eye her, both in relief and incredulous. "Really?" 

"Of course," she says, "Trust me, people have come up with crazier stories. Now." She turns back to you, clicking her pen before writing a couple things down on her clipboard.

"I'll prescribe you diazepam. Take one two hours after you've eaten before night." She instructs. "Come back if you feel anything out of the norm." 

You nod, still a bit dazed by her answer. Stress, that's seriously all that this was? 

But it worked, oddly enough. The first night back from the clinic, you stopped feeling those pseudo touches. Your insomnia started going away. You started getting a proper sleep cycle. For the first time in weeks, things were starting to work in your favor.

And then you wake up to the sounds of your bed moving. 

Creaking. Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. 

Also, you feel...good. Really really good. Tingles shoot up your spine. A pleased sigh unconsciously escapes from your lips as the pleasure between your thighs grows. You're still incoherent, hips following the feeling. Hands are wrapped around your wrists, pressing them against the mattress. There's a puff of air against your ear. Tongue and teeth that nip against your throat. 

It feels like a wet dream, you think. Blearily, you open your eyes, fully prepared to see some Hollywood actor, your crush from work, a cute stranger. 

You see nothing but the ceiling. But the pressure only increases. 

Immediately, all sleep is gone. You wiggle and squirm under the sudden weight. Weight that shouldn't be possible, considering there's nothing there. Your scream is blocked by a hand clamping itself over your windpipe, squeezing. 

The panic is immediate. You're writhing, doing whatever you can to get air into your lungs. It's not working. You can't move your hands. You can't move your legs. You're dying you're dying you're-

"Can you see me now?" 

You can see him. 

You were expecting something a bit less inhuman. Apart from the stitches that litter his face, he looks familiar, in terms of shape that is. Two human eyes. A human head. Human lips that are curved into a grin. Human skin. 

He looks so normal. And that makes whatever is happening even more scary. 

He releases your throat, and you're sucking in mouthfuls of air, regulating your breathing. He hums in clear delight, leaning away so he straddles you. He tuts when you start crying, sobs wracking your shivering body. 

"Is that all you can do?" He clicks his tongue like he's disappointed in you. 

"Get off," you wheeze, wiggling away, "Get-get off." 

"Why? You were enjoying it a couple of minutes ago." It? You glance down at the mess of bedsheets, where he's still inside you, lazily grinding his cock back into your wet hole. 

Nothing about this makes sense. What was he doing-How can he be-How is he even real when you couldn't see him before? You can't think; your mind is still drowsy on fatigue and the medication. Fuck the medication? Is that why you can barely even struggle?

"What a-are you?" You manage to slur out, words slipping around your tongue like butter. 

He laughs like you just said the world's funniest joke. It only makes your stomach drop. You've never heard a sound so evil before. 

"That's kinda' rude. Your parents never taught you manners?" He drawls, "Mahito, that's my name! I know yours!" You hate the way he says your name with so much perversion. He's ruining the innocence, just like how he's ruining you. 

You open your mouth, intent on screaming, but at that exact moment, his cock slams back inside you. You give out a stuttered moan instead. 

"See? Told you: you like it." Mahito gloats and your mind swirls in and out of focus again. You're barely coherent, moaning and huffing underneath him. You feel disgusted at yourself. For being so okay with this. But-but you can't move. You can barely breathe. 

And, you note with reluctance, he's been doing this for a while. You're practically mid-way through your build-up, so close to an orgasm that you don't want. Given by a fucking monster. 

"Have you-have you been-" 

"Yeah, it's been me, for a while now," he answers without much cadence, "You were so close with the ghost theory. It was kinda cute watching you get so desperate. Finding whatever you could to check out of reality."

Oh. You get it. This was all a game for him. How long has he been doing this to you? Making you stumble around, drowning in your own paranoia. How long has this thing been watching you? Touching you. Fucking you.

"You, on the other hand, are on a whole other level with your delusion." He grins, showing teeth. "Fuck, seriously, did you think you were hallucinating me fingering you? At that point, I have to admire your creativity." 

You can barely focus on his words, not when his cock was digging you out. You were so close, practically on the precipice. He gives one more snap of his hips, and you're gone, pussy clenching around his dick, back arching.

The orgasm feels like it lasts for hours because he refuses to stop moving. He finally grants you mercy by spilling his cum deep inside you, forcing you to milk his cock as he lazily rolls his hips, forcing your oversensitive body to jolt. 

You catch your breath when the world stops spinning. When it grows quiet, you can only hear your own panting. Another wave of tears threatens to spill. 

"Aw, cheer up," Mahito purrs, "At least it wasn't bed bugs, right?" 

[after-witch]

With Your Heartbeat Next to Mine [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Title: With Your Heartbeat Next to Mine [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Synopsis: You were lying to yourself if you claimed to think Mahito would be satisfied with kisses and late-night snuggles on the couch.

Word count: 1220ish

Notes: yandere, possessiveness, implied dubcon, talks of virginity, self-blame for unwanted advances, Mahito in general

Mahito steps forward, and you’re trapped between the unusual coolness of his body and your bedroom wall. One of your posters--some sun-faded thing leftover from your school years--crinkles against your back. You hope it doesn’t rip, and then you’re back to worrying about more important things.

Like the fact that Mahito wants you to have sex. Tonight. Today. Right now. 

“It’s just--I’m not ready,” you say, lips dry, stammering stupidly. “I’m a--I mean, I’ve never… I haven’t…”

Mahito quirks his head, and then grins, all teeth and salaciousness. “Oh-hh. You’re a virgin, then?” When you don’t answer, he pokes the end of your nose with a finger. “I read about it. It doesn’t matter to me. Humans attach importance to silly things, don’t they?”

Something like humiliation and hurt puffs up in you. He doesn’t take anything seriously, at least not when it comes to you. It’s never bothered you too much. It was part of the charm, the game, of being with someone like him.

But this is… different. Isn’t it? And it bothers you, deep down, even though you really forfeited all rights to any sort of normal relationship expectations the moment you willingly kissed a literal curse. 

“It’s not silly.” 

Your eyebrows furrow and you think back to fumbled romances from before Mahito. Awkward make-out sessions on the couch that always ended in you telling your dates that you weren’t ready to go that far, and they either smoothly accepted it and got their time’s worth with sloppy kisses and gropes or got the hell out of dodge, and you’re not sure which was more hurtful in the end. 

And then came Mahito. And he was different.  And a curse. And you were in something-like-a-relationship with him, but you didn’t know what to call it when the person you were seeing couldn’t be seen by anyone around you and he tortured people (to death, or not, and you definitely knew which one was worse in that case) for fun and “science” and you, sick and selfish thing, still loved the way he pressed kisses up your neck to feel your heartbeat or yanked your bottoms down to taste what was underneath or simply held you all night while you watched movies. 

And now he wants to push you down onto your bed and fuck you, and you don’t know what to do or say.  You don’t want it, but you knew it was coming, like it always does in any relationship. Was it any wonder that it came, too, in this one? 

Mahito puffs air in your face and you flinch, startled out of your thoughts. 

“Where’d you go, hmm?” You feel his fingers on your chin and you know what’s coming when one of them slides along your lips.  One of Mahito’s fingers hooks onto the side of your mouth, and if you weren’t used to him playing around with your body like it was a lump of clay, it would have bothered you. Instead you wonder when he last washed his hands, even as he stretches your lip upward, a mockery of a half-smile.

“Humans are silly. You’re silly,” he says, all matter-of-fact. Then he sighs, put-off or tired or just pretending to be in order to make himself more palatable, more humanesque, to you. You can never tell with him, and that’s part of the thrill. “Is it because you…” 

He releases your lips and taps his chin, putting on a show as he thinks for a moment, digging out information from whatever well of knowledge he stores things in. He normally pulls out trivia about humanity that would be better suited to some sort of criminology class. But today it’s something far less morbid, though hardly any less anxiety-inducing.

“Are you saving yourself for marriage? Is that why you don’t want to have sex?”

Your cheeks feel impossibly hot. 

You shake your head, looking down, unable to look at him. He never has a problem staring at you for what always feels like a terribly long time. Sometimes he does it so you’ll give him the answer he wants. Other times, it’s to study you--or that’s what you think, anyway. 

Mahito pouts. “Oh. Darn. I was thinking we might have a wedding, if that was the case. I’ve always admired those pretty dresses in the windows.” He sighs again. “Probably couldn’t invite him, though, anyway. He wouldn’t approve.” He smiles again, bright and peppy, all imitations of tiredness tossed aside like an old coat. “Did you know he wanted me to kill you the first time I brought you up?” 

You nod, because Mahito has had no problem telling you that his companions think he should have killed you a long time ago, and sometimes he thinks about it. But then he remembers how much fun you have together, so he puts it off for another day.

And the thought hits you like lead: If you won’t have sex with him, will he kill you? Will refusing make you too annoying or boring to put up with? Or is it better to say no and keep up the chase, make him fight for you? It was almost dizzying, the way relationship games became serious with Mahito around. A regular guy might just break up with you. Mahito might just break your neck.  

“Then… oh!” His expression brightens and he looks so sweet like this that you can almost forget what he is and what you’re doing with him. Almost. “You’re worried about the pain.” He nods, a mockery of sage wisdom. “I’ve read about that, too. He tilts his head back a little. “In novels. It’s cute…”

“You’re cute,” he says, and that’s a good sign--right?--because it means he still wants you. And you’re at least another step farther from being turned into some awful experiment in a sewer. 

His lips press against your ear, and his voice is too close and he’s too close, but you signed up for this when you let him in your life, didn’t you? You let him hold you and kiss you and if you didn’t think he’d eventually want more,  you were lying to yourself. 

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, and it does nothing but make you worry more. “I’ll be gentle.”

The most awful thing of all is that you can't tell if he's being genuine or not.

He grins, a sticky smile that oozes an awful dark pressure that makes your stomach clench. It would be better, you think, to do what he wants. Since he seems to want it so much. And… you should be flattered, if anything. Right? Be flattered. Be grateful. Appreciate that some all-powerful curse wants to press you into a mattress and have sex with your body and pull out your mewls and moans like he’s done before, albeit in a far less intimidating fashion. 

Mahito presses a chaste kiss to the end of your nose, then pulls back to examine your expression. 

“That’s what I’m supposed to say, isn’t it?” His fingers card through your hair up your scalp, scratching just a little too hard to feel nice. “So you don’t fight as much?”

You swallow, and your throat is so tight that your spit might as well be needles. 

Mahito, not wanting for an answer, presses his hands against your shoulder and pushes you harder against the wall as he moves in for a hungry kiss. Behind you, the poster rips. 

[yanderemommabean]

Mahito totally has a lactation kink I can just feel it like if you can’t already he’s gonna change that with his ability :3

He'd love to make his darling whimper in both fear AND pleasure, and if drinking from you doesn't give you pleasure, then the cute noises of humiliation will suffice. Mahito would love to drink from you every day, unable to get enough of you, making your chest sore and puffy, covered in his bite marks, kiss marks, even some finger print bruises. He gives such crazed giggles when you try to cover your chest with a shirt, wincing and nearly sobbing from the sensitivity, only making him want to suckle them more and get you crying for him- be it in embarrassment, overstimulation, or relief, it doesn't matter to him.

God I bet this freak (affectionate) has such a mommy kink too...Ya know, where he's clearly the top but calls you mommy anyway regardless of what bits you have. I just KNOW it.

-Mommabean

[ghoularaki]

tw kidnapping, noncon, double penetration, slight body horror, virgin! choso

mahito doesn't like a lot of things, but for some reason he liked you. little, defenseless you. he was honestly shocked when he realized you could actual see him instead of just being an invisible gnat flying around you.

how cute you looked when you bumped into him, he had to have you. with no way to say no, mahito picked you up and brought you to where the other cursed spirits lived.

geto simply ignored him, used to his antics, but choso was oddly curious.

"who's that?" the usually reserved man asked.

mahito pulled you closer to him and squished your cheeks between his fingers despite your insistent squirming. "i brought a new toy."

you whimpered at the implicants of what he meant. with how he forced his already hard cock against your butt, you knew you weren't getting out of this unharmed.

the stitched curse picked up on choso's curiosity instantly. whenever mahito dragged in a different humans, choso usually followed geto's example and ignore him. he couldn't blame choso, you sure were pretty for a human.

"hey choso, why don't you join me. humans are so much fun when they are squirming from pleasure."

choso choked on his own spit, not knowing how to respond. his violet eyes stayed lock on your pitiful form. tears had already bubbled over and painted your puffy cheeks. mahito blatantly groped you over you clothes. grabby hands fondling one of your breasts and your hands tried to pried him away, but he was too strong for you.

off in his own little world, mahito pulled you away from choso and called over his shoulder, "suit yourself."

snapping out of it, choso quickly followed mahito to wherever he was taking you. it wasn't like he wanted to know what a naked girl looked like. no he definitely didn't care about that, he just wanted to make sure mahito didn't go too far.

on a raggedy couch, mahito sat you on his lap and impatiently ripped your shirt from your body along with your bra. choso stared at how your breasts bounced from the rough motion. your nipples pebbled from the cold air.

mahito shoved a hand down your pants and found your slit. you gasped at how he swirled your clit, pinched it between his rough fingers.

"don't just stand there. help me take off her clothes," mahito called from over your shoulder.

you sobbed hard. he licked from your chin up your cheek to drink up your delicious tears. from his slimy tongue, you flinched away in disgust.

"your repulsed face only turns me on more," mahito giggled into your ear and rutted up into you.

pulled from his stupor, choso stood above you and delicately released you from your shirt and bra with some struggle. throwing it somewhere into the room, choso then went your pants. ignoring how mahito still hand his hand down the garment, he unbuttoned and unzipped you free.

"w-wait, please!" you begged.

the half curse glanced at you with with tented brows. he didn't want to harm you, but he couldn't deny how his cock strained in his loose pants. so he pulled down your pants and panties, and watched as mahito continued to twiddle your bundle of nerves.

"which hole do you want?" mahito asked choso.

"huh?" choso looked at him, confused.

mahito cackled. "forgot you were virgin. you want her pussy or ass?"

"um, p-pussy?"

mahito hummed, "good choice, i did want to see how far i can stretch her out."

that made you kick up a fuss. you didn't want him anywhere near back there. he was going to break you if he did. plus you had no clue if you could take both at the same time. what did you get yourself into?

pulling his own pants down, mahito pressed a hand on your back so you were bent over, your ass on display. wasting no time, he tapped his cockhead against the tight, untouched hole.

"wait!" you screeched.

laughing at your misery, mahito tugged you back and forced his way into the rim of muscles. your vision went black as he went in with no lube or prep. your chest stuttered from your heaving breaths. he brought your chest to his chest and then tucked his hands under your knees to bring them to your chest. warmth filled your face as your cunt was put on display for the other man in the room.

mahito stood up with you still in his grasp. from the angle he went deep into you. he moaned into your ear as you clamped down on him.

"there, you can fuck her now too."

gulping, choso walked to where mahito bucked his hips into your ass. your cunt clenched around nothing and some slick dripped down to accommodate mahito splitting you open. taking his own cock out from his robes, he followed what he saw mahito do. his cock brushed against your clit until he brought it further down to catch your hole.

nervously, he pushed into you. your breath hitched as he bullied his way inside until the hilt. you were thoroughly filled to the brim. they were both too big.

choso moaned as mahito's thrust caused you to be fucked on his dick. grabbing your hips, choso sloppily pistoned into you. your hands scrambled to grab onto something and deciding on mahito's tensed forearms.

both men used you as nothing more than a fleshlight to chase their own pleasure. inside you, you felt mahito shift inside until his own cock became more ribbed. you whimpered in confusion.

"doesn't it feel nice?" he said in your ear before shoving his tongue inside. you winced and tried to hide your ear from him, but he only laughed. "you're so easy to tease. maybe i'll keep you."

when you clenched down from the scare, choso fucked harder into you. with a few more uncoordinated thrusts, he came deep in you. you cried at the warmth seeping into your gummy walls.

"not fair, i wanted to go first," mahito pouted.

when choso finally pulled from you, the other curse used the cum dripping down to thrust faster into you faster.

"hey, make yourself useful and play with her clit. i want to feel her cum on me."

"her... what?" choso asked, fascinated with his cum drooling from your used cunt.

"the little thing above her hole. touch it."

nodding, choso followed his instructions and shyly dragged a finger up to brush against your clit. when you moaned he took it as him touching the right spot. remembering what mahito did earlier, choso swirled your clit with two fingers to the rhythm of mahito's thrusts.

at the pleasure, you squirmed to get away from it but choso didn't stop. he liked as your own slick dribbled out. human women are fascinating.

when he experimented and pinched the puffy nerves, you came against your will. mahito soon came with you. shoving his cock all the way in past the limits, he made sure your ass swallowed all of his cum.

unable to do anything, you sagged against the curse and let your mind go blank.

still thrusting into you despite already cumming, mahito's cock grew bigger. nuzzling into your neck, he giggled, "yeah, you're definitely going to be my new favorite toy."

[absolute-flaming-trash]

Pairing: Yandere!Mahito x AFAB!Reader

NSFW

Word Count: 2'133

Warnings: Yandere, Dubcon, Implied past noncon, Kidnapped reader, Captive reader, Denial of basic needs, Graphic descriptions of period blood, Descriptions of period cramps, Humiliation, Mahito is a fucking asshole in this. Dead dove do not eat.

Additional Notes: This is disgusting and I'm not sorry for a single moment.

There were just over two hundred cracks in the ceiling.

Two hundred and three, give or take, from the ones you could see.

It was hard to be accurate from your position on the floor. The angle from your little corner combined with the dim lighting of the sewer did you no favors, but you had counted them all five times now.

It was something to do. Something to distract you from the horrendous, gnawing pain that wracked your abdomen.

You had been dreading this day. After two weeks in Mahito’s captivity, you were nervous, but after three? You knew it was no longer a matter of “if” but “when” your period would hit while in his “care”. Mahito liked you too much to kill you, at least for now. He had made that explicitly clear in his extremely chipper response as to why you were still alive, however part of you genuinely wished to join the growing masses of his experiments in the tunnels rather than go through this.

You had nothing. No pads, no tampons, and nothing that you’d normally use to cope with the pain. After discovering the magical combination that eased you through this hellscape with minimal suffering, you had never gone a cycle without it.

But now you were dealing with it in full force for the first time in god knew how long with nothing but the cracks in the ceiling to distract you, and god, what a poor distraction it was.

After the sixth round of counting you couldn’t take it anymore. You could feel the blood oozing through the material of your pants and the cramps were fucking unbearable.

 “I need a new set of clothes.”

Mahito hummed softly in curiosity, giving you a once-over from his spot in his hammock. “What’s wrong with the ones you have on now?”

“I just need new ones.”

“Need or want~?”

“Goddamnit, Mahito, please.”

The slip-up left before you could catch it, and you watched in what felt like slow motion as his expression shifted into sinful delight mixed with intrigue.

You’ve never begged him before. Not once. Not unless he made you.

“Really?” He sat up and turned his body towards you fully - leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Now what could be so dire, I wonder?”

A particularly nasty cramp hit at that exact moment, and it took everything to keep from doubling over and letting him see you like that, but your pain tolerance was not good enough to keep such a display from showing on your face.

He saw it clear as day.

“Oh?” He tilted his head. “Are you sick?”

“No, but I genuinely would rather be.” You muttered, hugging your abdomen and closing your eyes while taking a few deep breaths through your nose and exhaling shakily through your mouth.

The crunch of debris could be heard as Mahito got off the hammock and strode over to you. You opened your eyes in time to see him crouch down to your level.

“You’re pale and you keep wincing, you’re sick.”

“I’m not sick! I’m just-” You cut yourself off, taking a moment to collect yourself since the growing exasperation in your tone was only serving to add to Mahito’s excitement over the whole thing.

Might as well rip the bandaid off…

“I’m on my period.”

He blinked, processing the information for a few seconds before he threw his head back and started laughing. The sound was sharp, and it echoed around the room - making you flinch back with a deep frown.

“It’s not funny.”

“Oh, you have no idea how funny it is.” He replied, still giggling as he spoke. “Your period?”

You grit your teeth to the point your jaw ached. “My menstrual cycle, it comes every-”

“I know what you’re talking about.” He said, dismissing your words with a wave of his hand and leaning in closer to you - analyzing everything. “Never thought I’d have a human around long enough to witness it, though.”

Humiliation burned in your face, but you kept eye contact. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Mahito clicked his tongue and lifted a hand to poke at your stomach - easily maneuvering around your attempts to bat it away. “Why should I get you new clothes when you’re going to bleed through those too?”

Another wave of cramps passed through you, causing you to hiss through your teeth. “So you propose I should just sit in my own blood?” Indignation practically dripped off your tone as you seethed.

He shrugged as he changed his position so he was sitting cross-legged in front of you. “You could always take them off,” He smiled. “I won’t mind.”

Of course. Of course, that would be his solution to your problems.

“I’m good, thanks.” You muttered, not bothering to hide the disgust on your face.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” He said as he rested his chin in his hand. “Besides, the longer you sit there doing nothing, the more blood is going to soak into your clothes.”

If looks could kill he would’ve been buried ten times over, but Mahito’s smile only widened in response.

“It’s your choice~.”

Damn him. Damn him to the deepest pits of hell or whatever godforsaken crevasse he crawled out of.

But he was right.

The humiliation felt like it was going to swallow you whole as you reluctantly hooked your thumbs under the waistband of your pants and underwear and pulled them down in one go, refusing to look him in the face the entire time you did so.

The tangy smell of iron hit the air immediately.

“Wow, you bleed a lot.”

His comment did absolutely nothing to help the way you wanted to simply curl up into a ball and cease to exist, and you placed your bundled-up clothes in front of your lower half to preserve some form of modesty.

“Will you help me now?”

He chuckled again, “Now how can I help you if I have no idea just how much you bleed?”

You returned your gaze to him, glaring daggers. “What?”

“I need to know the right stuff to get since clothes aren’t the only thing you need.” He replied so casually that you wanted to strike him across the face. “I’ve read human menstrual products aren’t… what’s the phrase? One-size-fits-all when it comes to flow.”

A twitch went through your eye. “I flow heavy.”

Mahito snorted, rolling his eyes after. “Obviously, but I need to know how heavy.”

You continued to stare at him, waiting for him to elaborate on exactly what the fuck he meant by that.

He smiled. “Let me see.”

…Oh.

The simmering humiliation-based anger quickly turned into nearly excruciating self-consciousness, and you pressed your thighs together tightly.

He sucked on his teeth and went to stand up. “I guess you don’t really need my help, then~.”

“No, wait!”

You hated it. The desperation that coated your words as you said them. Mahito only paused and tilted his head at you in that horrifically condescending way he seemed to enjoy so much as he waited for you to comply.

“...How long do you have to look?”

He tapped his chin and looked up in faux thought before giggling again. Like this was all a game, and to him it probably was.

“As long as I need.”

No. Not probably. It definitely was.

Damn him.

You couldn’t even look at him, not wanting to see what kind of vile excitement pulled at his stitches as you moved your clothing to the side and slowly but surely parted your legs. Your gaze was transfixed directly on the wall behind him as he made himself right at home - settling on his stomach with his face far too close for comfort from the most intimate part of you.

The silence was the worst part of it all. What was probably only seconds felt like hours and you made the mistake of looking down to see him just… staring at your cunt. Looking at it with wide eyes akin to a kid spotting a prize at a shitty pop-up carnival game as menstrual blood dripped from you.

His hands felt like ice when one closed around your thigh and the other swiped two fingers through your folds, causing your body to jolt backward in response.

“What the fuck are you-”

“Helping.” He stated simply as he slipped two fingers inside you without so much as a breath of warning.

It made your body seize and your hands shot to his shoulders out of reflex, but you knew better than to try and shove him off. Instead, you gripped onto him, stabilizing yourself as you were forced to endure it.

You just had to endure it.

“Huh.” He hummed, already deep in thought - marveling at the sight of your blood coating his fingers every time he pulled them out and plunged them back in at a horrifically languid pace. “You feel different when you’re like this.”

It felt awful. An achy, churning sensation that added to the usual discomfort you felt whenever he decided to touch you like this. Every time he crooked his fingers he made horrible scooping motions whenever he pulled them back out, and you could feel the excessive wetness as it left you.

It was disgusting. Repugnantly nauseating, and yet he also knew how to play you like a fucking fiddle as he did it. The mortification welled in your soul like the tears that welled in your eyes, and your knuckles went white as they gripped the fabric of his shirt to deal with the building pressure.

“This isn’t helping.” You said, breath catching on the last word.

“Is it not?” He asked, faux ignorance mixed with mirth as he lifted his head enough to look you in the eyes. There was no obvious expression for once, but you could feel the way his soul taunted yours. “Pity, I read orgasms supposedly helped with the pain.”

A whine slipped from your lips as he curled his fingers again, stroking a part of you that should’ve been reserved for lovers. For someone who cared for you as much as you cared for them.

Instead, you were reminded of just who it was between your thighs when you felt him smile against you - stitches bunching against your skin as the motion of his fingers repeated over and over and over again.

“Then again, you’re not quite there yet, are you?”

The sound that left you was strangled, a mixture of a grunt and a whimper that only added to the coil of what you could only describe as despair in your gut.

You refused to call it pleasure.

Each quirk of his wrist was like fire turned liquid with how it burned in your veins. It only grew hotter when he split you open with another finger, causing your hips to jerk against him. He only laughed and pinned them in place with another set of hands.

“Never mind, it looks like you’re particularly sensitive when you’re like this~.”

The curses you wanted to call him died on your tongue as his efforts doubled, blurring the line between disgust and euphoria even further until it finally came to a head. You could feel it in excruciating detail - the pulsing of your walls as they contracted around his fingers and your climax washed through you. The predisposition set upon you by your cycle amplified everything. The good. The bad.

The repulsive.

“There!”

Mahito’s cheerful voice was almost as jarring as the sensation of him pulling back and sitting on his haunches, withdrawing his fingers from you and leaving you with a worse ache than before.

Again you made the mistake of looking at him as he held up his hand, his fingers dark red with a thick glob connecting his middle and index together in a maccabe web.

Bile rose in your mouth and you had to quickly look away in order to prevent yourself from emptying what little stomach contents you had onto the floor when he placed the fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean.

“Are you done?” The question was bitter, full of resentment and utter shame as you waited for your humiliation to be complete.

There was that awful silence again, hanging in the air until it was broken by the sound of shifting clothing immediately followed by the sensation of gravity taking hold as you were pushed completely onto your back.

“Not yet,” Mahito answered, eyes gleaming as they stared down into yours - unyielding and completely merciless. 

If eyes were windows to the soul, you couldn’t bear the clarity in how he looked into yours.

And your gaze shifted back up to the ceiling, beginning to count once more.

© absolute-flaming-trash 2023. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.

[mango-bango-bby]

OK SO IT SEEMS LIKE YOU ARENT GETTING ANY REQUESTS SO IF YOU SEE THIS JUST ANSWER EVEN IF ITS NOT DONE BUT I HAVE A REQUEST!! Platonic yandere Mahito just somehow stealing us from yandere dad Gojo while he was out on a mission and reader and Mahito are just causing trouble and having a blast. Mahito doesn’t let us go home though once gojo gets back.

♡ Platonic Yandere Mahito Headcanons ♡

(A/N: Gahhhhh, thank you for sending in this request again, I’m so sorry Tumblr ate your requests 😭😭😭😭 I think this was pretty interesting to write, I kind of want to write platonic dad Gojo headcanons!!)

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, platonic yandere, child!reader, kidnapping, Mahito is a bad influence

Summary: Mahito wants to use you so he can kill Gojo, only he doesn’t expect to get so attached to you (Platonic!Yandere!Mahito x Child!Reader ft. Platonic!Yandere!Gojo x Child!Reader)

Masterlist ➸ ♡

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

♡ Mahito wants to find out a way to bring down Gojo, so he needs to find Gojo’s weakness. So of course when he notices you, he’s very interested. You two seemed to be close then it hit him, you were Gojo’s child. Now, Mahito had definitely found Gojo’s weakness.

♡ Mahito first approaches you when you’re playing in the garden, setting up your dolls to play with them. Upon being near you for the first time, he can feel an immense amount of cursed energy from you, even if you clearly didn’t know how to use it or even that you had it.

♡ You didn’t know many people, the people you knew were your father, your Uncle Nanami, and your big brother Megumi. So when you see Mahito and he says hello to you, you’re very excited to have a new friend! He invite him to play with you but he refuses, saying that he can’t go inside of the garden with you. So you sit there and talk to him while he’s on the other side of the bushes.

♡ He kept visiting you everyday, gaining your trust so he could eventually take you and use your absence against Gojo. Mahito can admit you’re kind of adorable. He refuses to admit he’s soft for a Jujustu Sorcerers child. But you do have cursed energy so he won’t take you and kill you, he doesn’t want to do that anymore, he wants to have you as a sister, help you train so you can fight against Jujutsu Sorcerers.

♡ For some reason, your new friend always seemed to leave the moment your father was there. But of course you tell Gojo about your new friend, telling him as he tucked you in about you funny friend with the long blue hair. Gojo is immediately suspicious. So your not allowed in the garden by yourself anymore.

♡ You’re absolutely devastated when your friend stops visiting you because your father is there. One night though you feel someone shaking you awake. It’s Mahito! Your so happy, you’re hugging him as you say how you wanted to see him but your father insisted he be out there with you.

♡ He asks your if you want to come out with him, of course you accept. You’ve never had experience in the real world so you’re incredibly naive. And Mahito is honestly just bringing you everywhere and causing chaos in the middle of the night.

♡ Mahito is literally taking you to rob a gas station, you’re stealing as much candy as you can possibly fit into your tiny hands. Also you’re dragging him to a playground, your definitely making him push you on the swings. The night ends with you falling asleep on him while on a bench

♡ Yeah, there’s no way Mahito is letting you go now. You were powerful, even if you didn’t know it yet. Mahito knows your fathers going to come after you though. However he doesn’t know the extent Gojo is willing to go for you, he’s ready to go on a rampage the moment your gone.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

[yanderenightmare]

Mahito

TW: slight NSFW, degradation, dehumanization, Stockholm Syndrome, Mahito in and of himself, platonic to romantic yandere

fem reader

Mahito makes it a point to treat you like an animal – his human pet.

Ever since he first took you. The cage, the collar, the petting, and the treats. 

Most of the time, when he talks to you, he acts as though you’re incapable of understanding complex conversation, using only a few words and simple commands – a smile stretching his face, stroking your head when you do good. Other times, he acts as though he’s forgotten you can even speak at all. The worst part is – you don’t really know whether he’s faking or not. 

He takes you for walks and plays with you – letting you off the leash for a game of hide´n´seek in the forest where he chases you down barefoot – he doesn’t really care about the rules or that he’s breaking the basic premise of the game. He just laughs, liking the way you pant and wince against the mossy floor after he’s hunted and tackled you down for the umpteenth time, sweaty while you beg him to take you home with teary eyes and puffy cheeks. Home – being where he keeps you.

You used to refuse, you used to run away and fight him when he caught you – with scratching and clawing and biting and barking, but you soon learned to behave. He told you he had no use for rabid pets and threatened you with transfiguration, warning you not to bore him, and ultimately – after having seen him twist enough people into mockeries – you stopped doing much more than obey.

You’re constantly blue with bruises and stinging from scratches – but you wash in the hot springs when Mahito brings you along – soaking your aching muscles in the warmth while he cheats in playing Marco Polo, sneaking a peak and tagging you with a laugh – awfully resembling that of a child. You swear you often have to shake the feeling of mothering him out of your head before doing something regrettable.

Other times, he’ll take you to the beach. You asked him once how it was possible, but he’d just booped your nose with a smile and told you it was something you wouldn’t be able to wrap your little head around – and, looking towards the horizon of the never-ending sea, inside what you could have sworn was a concrete building, you couldn’t help but agree with him.

Sometimes you see his friends and hide behind him. He thinks it funny and excuses you, laughing out that you’re shy. And you suppose he’s right. 

You used to be shy around him, too. You don’t know when you accepted it – being his pet.

Lately, he’s been inviting you to sleep with him in his hammock instead of your cage. And everything except your left brain betrays you as you lie snug against his side, with his arm softly holding you around your midriff. He’s so warm, and your whole body feels cottony at the pleasantness of another’s embrace after having gone so long without it. Actually, you almost cry, resting your head atop the rise and fall of his chest, closing your eyes to the steady beat of his heart thumping just beneath your ear. In the moment, you even forget he isn’t human. It just feels nice. 

You don’t even mind when he dances his fingers up your arm in ticklish touches. Instead, you nuzzle into him with something so vulnerable as a moan leaving your lips. 

His eyes travel from reading the pages of his book to the blissful look on your face and the way your smaller hand grips his tunic – but he doesn’t make much of it aside from raising a brow.

He’s seen scenes like this at the theatre – sappy love stories Junpei used to cry his eyes out over – awkward teenagers in dark silent bedrooms and clothes on the floor, then kisses and hugs and naked flesh and sweat and heavy breaths and moaning. He can’t deny it makes him curious despite never having felt any personal need to truly understand any of it. It's a human thing after all.

Your warmth makes him wonder, though. He’s always enjoyed the soft feel of your skin on his fingertips, whether you’re trembling or not – it has an interesting texture – warm and doughy. He could imagine it would feel good pressed against his body, too.

Without a word, he tugs your shirt up your torso, pulling on it until you raise your arms and allow him to remove it entirely. You became a little tense then, hiding your naked chest from him by folding your arms. 

He takes off his tunic just as casually, and you don’t understand it, but suddenly you feel a little blushy. But you don’t say anything – almost as though you’ve forgotten you can speak just the way he pretends.

His skin’s ashen and pale – but his torso is just like a normal guy’s – toned with muscles, two nipples, and a belly button. Oh, and stitches. Like a patchwork.

He lifts his arm, and you take the cue, laying down again – now skin to skin. He’s even warmer now, you note – and something about the feel of bare skin makes your head hot. And you can't help how that heat spreads between your thighs – but you keep it to yourself.

He lifts his book and begins reading it again, turning the pages with the same hand he holds it up with. But his free hand travels from resting on your hip to your chest.

You suppress a shudder by biting your lip, and he cups your tit with absentminded curiosity – paying you not a glance while his eyes lazily skim the words in front of him, giving your breast a firm squeeze.

He keeps track of your small shufflings despite you trying to keep them to yourself – charting what touches elicit your reactions. Soon, he finds your nipple, feeling it stiffen with yearning beneath his thumb, pushing it like a button only for it to bud out again. You stifle a sound he hasn’t heard from you before.

He reads his book finished, then lets it drop flat on the floor beneath you. His statement is like a resolution. “Let’s play a new game.”

You peek up at him from the nook of his arm. “Game?” You ask, but he's already maneuvering your body despite it causing an unsteady swing in the hammock.

He ignores both it and your question. Giving you those very curt commands one would say to a trained pet. “Up on my lap.”

You follow. “Okay-”

You’re straddling him next. Bare-chested while he lifts both hands to cup each tit.

You’re fully flushed now, face steadily getting dewy from the heat as you look away – bowing your head off to the side with your teeth sunk into your lip.

He’s playing. Groping the pillows with fingers now swallowed in the fat before releasing again, twisting the perky nips with eyes feeling a little foggy at the sight. His mouth suddenly waters, thinking about how it looks as though they were made to be eaten – no, not eaten exactly, but something else, something similar...

Indulging the thought, he leans in and envelopes the sensitive things between his lips, sucking on them with his warm wet tongue circling and flicking the point.

Old instincts resurface at the pleasant feeling and you grind your hips down on his lap without thinking.

He falls victim to it, too – taking your hips in both hands while grinding whatever it is that’s gaining weight between his thighs up into that place between yours.

The feeling is more than nice, forcing his entire body to be both mellow and tense with a hunger for more all at the same time.

He presses his face entirely against your chest, nuzzling between the soft mounds there with his cheek. Hands slipping from your hips to pull you closer and grind you harder down on his lap, slithering his arms around the small of your back and hugging you hard.

And you don’t want to think about how fucked up it is when you need it so badly – rolling your hips down, riding that bump you feel nudged against your crotch – like it's the only source of comfort you've had for months. You think about its size – it feels big – you can’t help but picture it – long and pale, probably with a curve and a sharp spine – fuck, you need it – want it pounding your guts, want his pelvis slapping against your clit as his fat cock shoves against your womb – filling you up with thick and filthy warmth-

You still with a shudder when you climax, breaths heavy and shaky. In the blind chase, you’d caressed his head and held it to your chest like a lover would, hugging him close with your body pressed flat against him.

He’s also panting, hot and damp huffs dewy against your skin.

There's something sticky in his pants… and he could have sworn your souls had merged there for a moment...

He’s never felt that before.

[animeyanderelover]

Characters of your choice from JJK with a darling who has a tattoo of their ex please

Holidays, everyone! I finally have my holidays! I changed it slightly so that the darling has a tattoo of the name of their ex.

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional thoughts, clinginess, manipulation, controlling behavior, forceful behavior, death

S/o has a tattoo of the name of their ex

Fushiguro Megumi

💙You have never told him of your tattoo before, aware how paranoid Megumi tends to be. Perhaps that would have been the wiser choice yet instead he discovers the name engraved on your skin himself as you fail to cover the name on your shoulder in time as he accidentally walks in on you changing. Thick silence befalls the room as he just stands there, frozen as his eyes are glued to the black kanji signs on your skin. His mind repeats the name over and over again until he suddenly remembers where he has heard it before. His heart drops, a lumb of fear and insecurities forms at the back of his throat and his eyes widen frantically. You try to come up with something, anything to explain this to him yet he is faster. Suddenly he stands in front of you, arms seizing your shoulders as he asks you with a slightly raised voice why you never told him that you had a tattoo of your ex. Why?? Why would you do that?? Were...were they that important to you? What about him then?

💙He can't bear to look at you the same way as before after that for quite some while, not without imagining the name of your ex tattooed on your shoulder. It's like a marking that spells out that you once loved someone else and whenever he actually sees your tattoo, he feels something clenching deep inside his chest. His insecurities and paranoia increase as he starts wondering if you still harbor feelings for your ex. Going as far as carrying a tattoo of their name around is a pretty big sign of devotion after all. You find yourself having a harder time to calm him down, the tattoo on your shoulder triggering him whenever he catches a glimpse of it. It haunts him, torments him a bit and he has wondered a couple of times already if he has to threaten your ex as paranoia poisons his ability to think rationally and instead whispers into his mind that you might return to your ex. He knows that it isn't good for his sanity which is why at some point he begs you to remove it somehow. Please, it torments him.

Zenin Maki

💚​Maki has known about your tattoo for a longer while now, it's hard to hide something written on your wrist with black and permanent ink after all. She already questioned this decision of yours back then quite a bit because it's quite risky to get a tattoo of the name of your ex without any guarantee that they'll stay. All you could do back then was to give her a pitiful laugh as you couldn't help but agree with her. Back then this was still fine though but now it is a different story as she's grown rather possessive over you. The tattoo is an eyesore for her whenever she sees it and due to the visible spot you chose, she sees it multiple times a day. She lets out a scoff whenever her eyes find the kanji signs and her mood is almost always worsening a tad bit whenever she spots the name of your former lover. At least she is reasonable enough to understand that both of you have broken it up for good so she isn't as wavering and paranoid as Megumi. She knows that you don't have any feelings for them anymore.

💚​That doesn't mean that she hasn't completely forgiven you for your stupidity to get a tattoo in the first place. In fact she is scolding you more nowadays for your decision than before. Maki knows that you regret that mistake yourself but she can't help it sometimes, she is a bit mad and tends to express that with not so kind words. At the very least she notices that her words only cause you to feel worse so she tries to comfort you as good as she can everytime her tongue slips and she accidentally cuts you with her words. She makes it very clear to you though that she greatly dislikes that you have the name of someone else decorating your body whilst you're together with her and you can't even blame her for it. She would appreciate for you to somehow get rid of this tattoo and sometimes you have the feeling that her wish sounds more like a demand.

Gojo Satoru

🩵​It's perhaps not the best idea to let Gojo ever find out about your tattoo but how is that even supposed to work? The man is so terribly clingy and intrusive and despite his goofy facade, you have a feeling that he might react very badly to the sight of your tattoo. You try to figure out a way how to tell him as harmlessly as possible but you can't come up with anything. Maybe it wouldn't have made a difference in the first place. That's at least what you think as you try to wiggle free from his unusually tight grip, one of his hands lifting up your shirt as dull blue eyes stare at the name written slightly above your hip. Your breath hitches in your throat when those same blue eyes finally meet your own and you feel like you could drown within the abyss of the darkness swirling behind those beautiful orbs. A forced smile stretches his face as he asks you why you have someone's name tattooed on your body. Especially that of your ex.

🩵​You have a hard time convincing him not to go after your ex as your gut screams at you that something terribly will happen otherwise. You beg him to have mercy since both of you have ended the relationship years ago and you don't even have any contact with them anymore. You swallow heavily when his heavy and colder gaze rests on you yet still plead him to not do anything to them as you promise to do whatever he wants. Your wish is somewhat granted as Gojo doesn't harm them but he still wants to have seen the person whose name stains your skin at least once. Needless to say, he is disappointed when he sees your ex who is in his eyes a nobody but perhaps that reassures him a tiny bit. He can't help but torment and scare the poor soul though and they don't know even why. He organizes an appointment for you where the tattoo will be completely removed and only after that he seems to return to his usual self, happily kissing the now empty spot on your skin.

Kamo Choso

🩸​Choso is absolutely attached to your hips. He's needy, soft-spoken, careful and surprisingly considerate. If he wouldn't have been your kidnapper and creepy stalker, you might have appreciated him more though. There is something about him that sometimes just unsettles you and he himself doesn't even seem to notice when he's creeping you out until he witnesses your reaction. You don't even notice him until you feel his fingertips brushing against your skin and nearly jump out of your skin, turning bewildered around to see Choso staring at the same spot where your tattoo was only a few moments ago. He doesn't move as he now stares into empty air as if trying to process something until dark eyes finally meet your own. He swallows before apologizing that he just walked in on you without telling you anything. A few seconds of silence before you hear him asking you once again, this time in a slightly shaky tone, what that was he just saw on your back.

🩸​It's like Choso initially refuses to believe that a tattoo is something permanent as he rejects the thought that you will walk around with a name of your ex-lover forever engraved onto your being. You wake sometimes up in the middle of the night only to feel his hand rubbing against the tattoo as if trying to erase it himself, you notice the way his hands start trembling when he realizes that the ink doesn't fade away even a tiny bit and pray that he won't have a meltdown. Choso would never blame you for it but that means that his hostility is turned against your ex as he starts genuinely believing that they tricked you and manipulated your feelings, abused your kindness which is why you were fooled into getting such a tattoo. He never goes out to kill them though, only because you stop him though and successfully manage to coax him into not doing such a thing and instead he just clings onto you. He asks you anxiously more than once if there is a way to get rid of the tattoo and you know that it's probably the best way to preserve his sanity somehow.

Mahito

🔷​Good luck in general with Mahito because that is a recipe for disaster anyways. Mahito's perception of love differs greatly and is much more twisted and warped than anything and in his eyes he wouldn't even label his feelings as love. He likes to view you more as a sweet experiment, an interesting specism he just likes to spend time with whilst poking and tormenting you to gauge all of your reactions. The best you can do is try to endure it without giving him too much of a reaction because the bastard loves seeing you respond strongly to anything he does. Unfortunately you don't react quite as level-headed as you would like to have when he notices the dark ink on your legs and suddenly yanks you towards him, his hands roughly holding your leg, unimpressed by the way you're kicking and hissing at him. Cold fingers brush over the lettering on your skin, mismatched eyes curiously go back and forth between your eyes and the dark ink on your thigh before he asks you what this is.

🔷​He's genuinely interested to hear your reasons why you would decide to have the name of your ex tattooed on your skin and it is hard for you to tell if he is angry at all about it or not. He's definitely mocking and degrading you though as he labels you stupid for doing something like this despite never having known if they would actually stay with you. His fingers are still tracing over the tattoo and when he suddenly falls quiet for a while, you realize that he's thinking about something. Then he suddenly asks you if you just feel better if you have someone's name on your body which successfully makes you feel like you belong to someone. You're offended by his words but he doesn't give you time to answer as a grin suddenly flashes across his face, his grip tightening as he says with an excited tone that he wants to see his name on your skin too. You can't do anything but watch as your leg deforms in a grotesque way before returning to it's normal form. Your previous tattoo has disappeared and instead the kanji signs now read Mahito's name. Do you want more~?

[cheesecakethots]

saying anything around mahito is dangerous.

if you’re afab you could be on your period and mutter something like “god, i wish i didn’t have a uterus” only for him to lift his head up like some excited dog.

“i could arrange that for you!”

you’re certain if he had a tail it would be wagging… when you ultimately tell him no he’s pouty for the rest of the day.

[weebsinstash]

When I say with my entire being in my heart of hearts that I know with certainty that this-this-this THING right here would do the absolute most unbelievable petty gross obsessive dahmer level shit to you

He's petty he's evil he's got a childlike fascination for seeing what breaks people down and I hate him I hate him I hate him but ALSO what that dick do tho? 🤔

Mahito is the yandere over here doing shit like imprisoning you for his own selfishness and perhaps genuine affection but making you live in absolute deplorable conditions because He's Not Fucking Human And He Doesn't Even Know How To Feed You. He locks you away and disappears for an entire day and comes back with like a single can of wet dog food that he watches you eat from a squatting position like 5 inches away looking at you like Harley Quinn and the egg sandwich. Motherfucker would take all your clothes because he wants to see more of "the natural shape of you" and then doesn't understand why you start shivering. Or he deliberately keeps you like that because he wants to see how long it takes you to crack and beg him for help. He wants to see the depths of your pride as you refuse to grovel, curious of the lengths you'll go, the limits of your body against the chill

This depraved fuck will do dehumanizing little emotional experiments on you where he does shit just because he wants to see how you think and feel and what you'll do and I mean like he'll do SOME REAL SHIT. I'm talking maybe he's stalking you and you can't fight or use cursed techniques and you think he's just like, a human shaped spirit or something who's just a trickster, he's not being violent or getting you alone or anything yet, and then you come home to your apartment one day and he's literally disemboweled your cat on your coffee table and he's playing with pieces of it and says you were giving it more attention than him and sits there pouting as you scream and even tries to like touch you or hold your hand or hug you with. The fucking blood covered hands. like he would be so fucked up on purpose, "awww do you need me to hold you? You're so sensitive but i dont mind :3"

This man out here like "wdym you want me to stay away from you, all I did was kill your cat kill your mom kill your neighbor kill your best friend kill your boss' cousins' landlords' newborn baby BUT WAS THAT REALLY SO BAD 🥺" and does something infinitely worse to scare/coerce you into tolerating his presence

I'm not really uh into body horror or gore but as a side detail I feel like. Uh. There's like a legitimate risk of him actually unintentionally REALLY hurting you and has to use his powers to heal you. Like the one good thing he does is if he were to have you on death's door or like horribly injured he could just. Fix it. He twists a limb in a way he doesn't know it's not supposed to go and breaks it and then puts you back together like a broken toy while ooo'ing and aaa'ing at the way your skin stretches over the grotesque misalignment. Dare I say the horror of "him putting things that are way too big or weirdly shaped in you" also yeah he's one of the things he's putting in you and he's got a really gross like fascination with learning all about that stuff

He's really living just to see how many different ways he can make you cry and how many different emotions he can get you to display, just absolutely dedicated to terrorizing you while also chasing his own internal weird repressed desire for his own sort of belonging. You could be sitting there sobbing and he's either borderline getting off on it or he's standing there MAKING FUN OF YOUR CRIES like deadass even fake crying back to you

And the worst part is he'll do all this fucking shit to you and then the night comes and he'll still be over here like "and you'll let me cuddle you while you sleep right? 👉👈" and he'll be doing that Every. Single. Night. And what are you gonna do, try and kill yourself? Have fun risking accidentally making yourself a Curse and being stuck with him basically FOREVER