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#do not perceive me please

xxthefairywitchxx · 1 year

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Seven plus hours gone into this, and I don't like the background but…whatever. I might fix it later…This is such a large image too, but it feels so...plain? idk I might fiddle with it more later, for now take this very self indulgent mess...I fear how much Tumblr is going to compress these images, they are so large...

Rio had spent all day with the woman, yet another day at that, by her side the entire time, and yet he'd still failed to figure out what it was about her that interested him so. She had a bizarre range of knowledge, some of the most obscure facts he'd heard in all his days, and yet at the same time, lacked very basic information as well. He did not know why for sure, he simply knew he was interested in her…Possessive of her, as well. He was not so willing to leave her just yet, not without leaving a mark, since they were being watched, and had been all day. He would simply lean down and kiss her outside of her room, and not let himself get carried away as he had a few days prior…Yet, he was unable to bear the thought of giving their voyeur a free show, and so, he held up one of his expressions to hide their mouths from view. He felt a wave of smugness over take him once again, as he was the first to claim her lips, and once more she leaned into him. He almost pitied his rival who was surely seething at this display…Almost. But not quite.

#my art #self ship #selfship #proselfship #proship selfship #selfship art #proship safe #antis dni #Rio Ranger #Your Turn To Die #Kime Ga Shine #Dressup Doll #Do not perceive me please #my writing #ok to reblog I guess if anyone wants to but do not look at me

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breadcheese444 · 3 months

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Scrolling the malleyuu tag and getting jump scared by my own posts

#bread rambles #idk man it’s so embarassing seeing my own posts Lmao #do not perceive me please #vibing in my own bubble #living out my delusions

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ievaxol · 2 years

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shudder with blood in my nose

An explicit ginzura fic under the cut - available on ao3 >>LINK HERE<<

Every once in a while there’s a knock at Katsura’s door, right before he’s about to turn off the lights and go to bed. Always at the same time, strong and insistent — every time he tells himself not to open, every time he does.

On the other side he’ll find Gintoki, slumped against the doorframe and grumbling about how long it took for him to get around to opening the ‘goddamn door, Zura, c’mon, a guy can’t wait forever huh’. A little tipsy, a little sad. Not drunk enough to forget on his own and not sober enough to read his JUMP and go to bed.

Such a pain.

Nonetheless Katsura will stand aside and Gintoki will shoulder past him, will ask about Elizabeth and then go straight for his fridge when he says that Elizabeth is out. Gintoki will cackle with unrestrained glee when he finds the strawberry milk Katsura stocks and then he’ll gulp it down in a single movement and Katsura will reprimand him, firmly, tell him that it’ll lead to a stomachache.

Then Gintoki’s eyes will darken and Katsura will feel that same old thrill down his spine and he’ll touch Gintoki until they tumble into his bedroom in a mess of kisses and feverish touches.

Katsura never tries to stop it, despite the voice in the back of his mind telling him that they can’t go on like this — it’s not healthy, a better version of himself says. Gintoki can’t keep using you as a crutch, no matter how much Katsura wants. It's like Gintoki has an uncanny sixth sense for when Katsura has once more started to steel himself to say no more, slipping in like a knife between his ribs right when Katsura starts contemplating not giving him his latest address and getting rid of the sweets he has around just in case.

In case of what, Katsura doesn't dwell on. He doesn't know what he wants from Gintoki and beyond the sex he doesn't know what Gintoki wants from him.

They know nothing at all, either of them, two idiots connected by a cosmos that only ever seems to laugh at them.

Gintoki is a vocal and wondrous lover — on a particularly sappy day Katsura might follow the curve of his spine with the tip of his finger and think he was made to be loved, no matter how much it annoys Gin. The sex will be on his lap or with Gin on his back, face tipped up against the ceiling and eyes scrunched shut in pleasure as Katsura works endlessly to expel the ghosts haunting them, at least for a night.

Other days Katsura’s mouth is thin and he knows that the day after he’ll need to move locations again. On those days he smacks Gintoki’s ass, frowns when Gin grins and it’s over fast. Gintoki will be mean and Katsura even meaner, teeth and nails their weapon of choice as they both try their best to drown.

Today is an in-between — Gintoki’s breath is coming fast and labored into Katsura’s pillow and while Katsura isn’t taking it painstakingly slow he moves his hands with care, cups the scar on Gintoki’s hip with one hand as he slips the other between Gintoki’s spread legs.

They’ve been at it for a while already. Rare are the times that Gintoki will allow Katsura to linger but today he simply tsked at the rebel, an unhappy curve to his mouth that Katsura tried to erase with tongue and lips and fingers. His mouth tasted like cheap sake and Katsura felt like if he kissed Gintoki deep enough he might become a little tipsy himself, buried his hands in Gin’s thick hair and moaned with reckless abandon.

After all, who could better understand than him? When the city lights become too bright and Katsura ducks into the yorozuya shop, is that not the same as whatever this is?

He doesn’t know if Gintoki seeks out anyone else like this and he doesn’t want to know either.

As long as he remains ignorant this can be theirs alone.

Gintoki’s on his stomach, clothes neatly folded to the side — courtesy of Katsura — with his back arched as he chases pleasure. If Gintoki tilts his head to the side Katsura can see the dark purple bruise that’s forming on his pretty throat and it makes something hot rush in his blood, makes him dribble more oil over his fingers and marvel quietly at how Gintoki affects him.

"Zura…" Gintoki whines, high and needy. It's pathetic, really, for a grown man to sound like that — but it's also sort of cute and Katsura has always been weak for cute things. After the customary reminder of his name being Katsura, he rewards Gintoki with a twist of his fingers and Gintoki warbles something incomprehensible but undeniably pleased.

Probably for the better that he doesn’t know what Gintoki says, with the things that come out of his mouth sometimes.

“Zura.” When Katsura pumps his hand slow, “Zura — !” when he drapes himself over Gintoki and finally pushes home into his tight wet heat, “Zura, Zura, Zura.” A prayer from the least religious man Katsura knows and a sinful stroking of his ego, making him snap his hips that little bit harder to make Gintoki see stars.

No matter where or on what side they are there are moments that Katsura and Gintoki fall into perfect sync, without thinking, without speaking — fucking is one of those times, when they both know exactly what to do and how the other will move.

This is why Katsura opens the door, he reminds himself every time. This and the shadows underneath Gintoki’s eyes that speak of something other than staying up all night on the pachinko machine, one shared look enough to know what burdens has made a home of his shoulders.

And he won’t lie — Gintoki knows him just as well. The man doesn’t say it out loud but sometimes his fingers will drag along the scar over Katsura’s waist when they meet like this, fingers curling possessively around it.

Gintoki is sinful and gorgeous and meets Katsura just so, spreads his legs and pushes himself up on his elbows with a grunt before Katsura can ask. Surprisingly pliant underneath Katsura, he lets the rebel set the pace and simply takes it with his head hanging and hoarse pants filling the room.

It drives Katsura insane, makes him reach around Gintoki because he simply must get his hands on Gintoki’s cock that very moment — it’s hard and heavy in his hands and he pumps it just the way he knows Gin likes it, feeling the man clench around him as he starts to chase his release.

He always makes Gintoki come first, finds it unbearably hot when Gintoki looses any last shred of composure he has left, muscled thighs trembling underneath Katsura as he spills over the rebels hand — Katsura finds his own release shortly after every time, hips staggering as he drives into Gintoki with grit teeth.

And then.

A little slice of pure bliss as Gintoki begrudgingly lets himself be cleaned up by Katsura and a quiet moment laying side by side, lazily trading kisses. Sometimes they go for round two but not today — Gintoki mutters something about helping Kagura walk Sadaharu later when he gets antsy enough and Katsura lets the obvious lie slide.

He lies on his side and watches Gintoki cover up his scars, watches him roll his shoulders and smiling when they seem considerably lighter. Katsura’s own head is also blissfully quiet. The thought of Gintoki staying, of waking up next to him and having access to him always, will come later.

And thus the cycle begins anew.

#ginzura #katsura x gintoki #gintoki x katsura #do not perceive me please #mine writing #gintama

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ly-pleiades · 10 days

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sxh... one chance... i beg,,

#do not perceive me please

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cashmoneyyysstuff · 3 months

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shoto’s been staring at you for a good 5 minutes now.

you’d figured he was zoning out about three minutes in but then you looked up from your homework at him and he smiled at you, that cute little loverboy smile he does that have your legs feeling like jelly and has your heart push against your chest like it wants to escape.

okay so he wasn’t zoning out. then what is it ? did you have something on your face ? was he waiting for you to say something ?

"is there something on my face ?" you blurt out, already wiping at your chin and around your mouth

he blinks, registering your question and his eyebrows furrow lightly “no, there isn’t.” he answers curtly. reaching his colder hand up to pull your hand away from your face. you’re so much more confused now that you fail to realize he held onto your hand for a moment longer than necessary.

“so then why are you staring at me ?”

he lightly tilts his head to side at that, looking at you questioningly “ why should i not be looking at you ? does it bother you ?”

“wh—no no !” you sputter, he’s flipped the tables on you now “ i was just wondering what was up because you’ve been staring for..a while now” you trail off, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. his eyes widen just a fraction and you think maybe you got it all wrong somehow and he was zoning out, but then he’s lowering his head in shame “i’m sorry, yn. i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable with my staring..” he apologizes.

you’re frantic, shaking your head so hard you fear you’ll twist your neck and waving your hands hurriedly “ no, no, no ! it’s okay, sho ! you didn’t make me uncomfortable or anything !” you feel relieved when the tension on his face dissolves the slightest bit “ i was just curious, that’s all” you sigh, your arms fly back next to you because you feel like your sweating buckets and you really don’t want him seeing pit stains.

he hums like he’s thinking about something then suddenly a small smile breaks onto his face and you feel like you’ve been hit dead on by a semi truck. shoto todoroki’s ability to be so effortlessly pretty is and will forever be an enigma to you. “ i like looking at you” he starts “ whenever you do mundane things like studying, you always have this look on your face. i like it, i think it’s cute.”

okay, so turns he was out to kill you.

“ i-i do ?” he responds with a simple “mhm”. you feel like you’re sweating a lot more.

“oh.” is all you say. it’s all you can say because what the hell were you supposed to say ?!

shoto doesn’t look all that bothered by it, cool as usual, simply opting to keep staring at you. you fiddle with your fingers for a bit before you lift your head up to meet his unwavering stare “ i—uhm—thank you.” you whisper. he shakes his head “don’t thank me, you don’t have to. if you want me to stop, i can try to.”

he can try to. you feel like you’re losing your mind.

you’re way beyond flustered now. todoroki’s not a man of many words but when he does use them it throws you for a complete loop, you feel like you’re on a rollercoaster. “no that’s fine.” you answer meekly.

“you’re sure ?” you nod and he hums. “okay then, if you don’t mind.”

“it’s fine” you confirm, feeling your face heat up. “i like looking at you, too.”

you definitely like looking at the handsome smile that forms on his face from your words.

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namazunomegami · 4 months

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Mélange

Pairing: Okkotsu Yuta x gn!reader

Synopsis: Sometimes humans are not above animals. Sometimes they burn to fulfill the same basic needs and not strive for more in the moment. A full belly, safety, procreation. What happens when all three of them need to be satisfied? Tinged with spice. Under the influence of an unknown substance.

CW: aphrodisiac, dubcon, slight somnophilia, feral and animalistic Yuta, he has cannibalistic thoughts, licking, lovebites, scratching, biting, slight pain, handjob, premature ejaculation, fingering, Reader can feel Yuta’s ring during fingering, slight dacryphilia if you squint, implied multiple rounds, porn with feelings, good old unprotected sex + creampie, both Reader and Yuta are ultra possessive in their own toxic way <33

WC: 3.6k

Credits: my dearest @notveryrussian for proofreading this mess and doing a bit of rework on the tenses <33 the cannibalcore pics are from pinterest

Song rec: needles and pins by deftones and gibson girl by ethel cain both give a nice vibe to the fic as we slowly transition from Yuta's POV to Reader's POV

A/N: Can't believe I'm posting my first one shot here 🥹 After so many unsuccessful attempts to wrap up multichaptered fics, at least, this one messy smut got finished. My first ever finished fic 🥹 And the first to get completed in a relatively short time. Yes, a week is a short time for me. And happy holidays to y’all, this is gonna be the last fic in this year so expect only shitposts from me from now on lmao.

Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

Minors do not interact or else I'm gonna go apeshit, also a seperate warning for heavy dark content as usual. If there's anything mentioned in the tags that you're not comfortable with, this is not your fic.

Many sorcerers envy the title of special grade. Yuta thinks these people deserve a separate Naraka in Hell. They don’t realize the immense responsibility, they can’t fathom the challenges, the danger of the missions. The threat those curses pose. They only care about the power he carries.

During today’s mission, Yuta realized he’s not entirely an unstoppable force. Even someone like him is weak to certain fighting styles, he can’t counter everything with his wide range of copied techniques. This curse’s grade was well deserved. Whenever the katana slashed deep into it’s skin, a strange kind of gas was emitted from the wounds. Though he eventually exorcised the curse, he did breathe in the weird, sweet-smelling substance. The scent was hard to resist, it felt like the perfect mixture of all his favorite smells, inviting and comforting. However, he trusted his body to withstand the temptation, reinforced to near perfection with cursed energy and the usage of reversed cursed technique.

There was no problem until he finished reporting back to the higher ups and was on the way home. Maybe it was just the fatigue, the late summer heat, the humidity of the night but something made him feel weird. Almost sick. A thin veil of sweat glistened on his skin, his cheeks, ears and upper body were flushed. His chest was heaving, a burning, aching sensation tormented him between his legs, throbbing with a synced rhythm to his heartbeat. All his thoughts narrowed down to one single, inherently primal thing. A need. A hunger.

Shame and confusion swelled inside his chest. How can he lose his composure? How can he want it so badly? If he wasn’t so wired for monogamy, he would have fucked anyone who moved. And with every passing minute the feeling was getting worse. Descending slowly to the brink of madness. Hell, he was close to wheezing and growling like a rabid dog. He already had no patience to find the right key to the door. He could break that shit, he definitely could. He had no idea why, but he could stop himself from doing that. Maybe the insane price to get it fixed.

But the comfort of his home isn’t helping him. He can’t calm down, he can’t unwind. On the contrary, everything intensifies the strange urge in him to act territorial. But it’s only natural when he grew up feeling like he didn’t have anything he could call his own, whether it’s a material possession or a person. Every comprehensible thought vanished from his head. Leaving only the instincts. The need to claim. He immediately goes to the bedroom, not even bothering to have a quick shower or a light meal.

He gazes at your sleeping form, unknowing and peaceful. Innocent and vulnerable like a newborn lamb and he’s… he wouldn’t compare himself to a wolf, he’s a more vicious predator than that, all starved and keen on capturing its prey. Your limbs are thrown in every direction on the mattress, a thin, silk blanket barely concealing your body, but you’re hugging a some of it to your chest. Like you’re missing him, finding solace in the way the material is touching you. The windows are wide open, hoping that the night air can cool you down.

Yuta caught himself almost drooling at the sight. He can’t stop himself, he can’t fight the shameless thoughts plaguing him. The need, the want is stronger than what he deems right in the moment. His steps are quiet, that part of the floor that normally creaks is now completely silent. He looms over you, like a sinful, ungodly spirit, your very own kanashibari that’s bound to you. His weight is pressing down on the mattress ever so slightly, caging your form between his arms. He breathes in the smell of your freshly showered skin. A mixture of heady vanilla, milk and honey. He mindlessly licks a stripe up your thigh, wanting to taste you, to bite you, to tear out a big chunk of your flesh with his teeth to satisfy this torturous hunger he feels for you. More than anything he wants to devour you. Completely. Have you all for himself. The thought alone makes his dick so hard it’s outright painful.

He ascends towards your hips, leaving soft yet wet kisses that make you twitch in your sleep. Yuta swears that he’s more sensitive to all stimuli, his senses are working at their maximum capacity. He’s able to feel every morsel, every particle of you. The soft peach fuzz, the bumps, the ridges of your stretch marks, their pearl-like glistening texture flowing on the surface of your skin like a river. The material of your shorts, loose and thin, he can feel the seams on the band of your underwear through the fabric. Where the bones bend, where flesh folds. Your smell. Not just from the shower gel and the laundry detergent but your natural scent, so strong he believes it’s some kind of weird pheromone that’s driving him wild. To the point he almost considers nudging his nose between your legs, just like dogs do when they smell blood there.

Maybe it’s not entirely wrong to claim you this way. He can spare you from this more primal side of him, you won’t get to see it and despise him for it. It’s enough if he deals with the shame alone, self-deprecation is his ultimate talent afterall. But that can wait until after he finished soothing this excruciating itch. Because now the last remnant of his resolve goes out the window.

He pulls up your shirt all the way up to your chest. His shirt to be exact. It makes his heart flutter, a piece of him enveloping you, makes the boundaries between your sense of selves blend and blur. The thought of you using his stuff as your own feels so right, so promising.

He practically glues his face to the expanse of your stomach. The flesh is so soft between his teeth, feels so good to bite on it, so easy to suck on it until the skin turns a deep purple.

And maybe… maybe he can lower his crotch onto your knees. Just a little. Just for a little friction…

You stir, opening your eyes slowly, tiredness and confusion are still heavy on your expression. And then you feel teeth nipping at your stomach, fingers digging into the dips of your hips firmly, some wetness here and there along your leg.

Your first response is fear.

You start to squirm and fuss, kicking your legs up in the air, not even thinking about who’s doing this to you until Yuta grips your shoulders and pushes you back into the sheets, keeping you still by the weight of his own body, shushing you. You can feel his nails penetrating the skin, branding the crescent Moon itself into your flesh.

“It’s me, don’t panic.”

You’d recognize this voice anywhere, but you blinked a few times just to clear your vision. The striking white of his coat is easy to spot, even in the dimly lit darkness of the room.

“Yuta…?”

Your voice is an ode, a blessing. Even when it’s hoarse and faint after waking up. He bends down and kisses your temple, nuzzling into your hairline, breathing in your scent. His body feels oddly warm, almost overly so, radiating through you. Through your spine, to the very center of your being and that’s when you notice that you’re a little bit… hot and bothered. What has he done to you while you were asleep?

“I’m so sorry…” he whispers an apology. But his voice is just… it’s like his mind is not entirely here. Something is hurting him and he’s trying to conceal it. Barely. You can hear his voice is hitched from the deep breath he takes, in a futile affort to calm himself. “Have you been sleeping for long?”

He asks you for the sake of it, there’s no genuine interest behind it. Even if you were sleeping for hours, it wouldn’t stop him. He couldn’t stop. He genuinely feels like he’ll die if he can’t get it out of his system. He snuggles his face into the crook of your neck, listening to the rhythm of life coursing through your veins. The thought of puncturing your jugular with his teeth is so irresistible. He must do it… It’ll drive him insane if he won’t.

“N-not really.” your answer is weak, all your strength is used to move your arm freely, trying to locate your phone on the bedside table. The light coming from the screen almost blinds you as you’re checking the time. “I went to bed about… half an hour ago.”

He dips his fingers right into the hollow dips between your ribs, he kneads the skin in a way that has his nails slightly scratching you. And then you realize that you’re almost entirely topless.

He traps your earlobe with his teeth, sucking on the soft tissue.

“Y-Yuta…” your voice is more reprimanding that you want it to be. But your patience is starting to run thin. You want to know what the fuck is wrong with him, he never did anything like this before. Even if he’s horny as hell he would ask for your permission because that’s the way he is.

Instead of giving you an answer he bites your neck. Hard. It hurts, it makes you yelp. Shit, that’s gonna leave a mark. And he growls, just like a wild animal.

You squirm, you jolt, trying to get away from the source of your pain with a prolonged hiss. Only one hand of his is enough to stop you from fussing while the other fondles your chest. Your nipple is caught between his fingers, he twists it slightly. You can’t see it getting red, hard and swollen. His moves are awkward and tactless, but somehow they help with soothing the sharp pain in your neck. Your tensed body eases up a little.

He kicks the inner side of your knee with his own, creating a little space in between them, then forces your legs apart with one smooth movement. As he tries to settle right under your core, you feel him brushing the apex of your thigh.

He’s so painfully hard.

You’re sure he can read the instinctual reactions of your body. The rush of adrenaline, your pulse, how your heart is almost breaking your ribs with every beat. You’re getting more and more aware of your surroundings because you have no idea what will happen to you. He pins your wrists down on the bed. He doesn’t want you to escape.

What has gotten into him? Where’s your shy and gentle man, your sweet little angel? The one who needs so much guidance, who gets so awkward about his lack of experience compared to you. The one you need to encourage to talk about what he likes since you won’t judge him for it. Well, angels shouldn’t be benevolent and sweet, right? They’re the soldiers of god after all. And the depth of his psyche is still very much a mystery to you…

“I don’t want to hurt you… I just need you.”

He has no control over his own thoughts, everything on his mind gets blabbered out. Not just that he needs you, but that he wants to fuck you (he rarely uses that word so you’re even more baffled), that he wants to eat you up, bite for bite, digest you so nobody else can have you.

It sounds devoted yet utterly terrifying.

“You’re-“

He’s scary. Well, you knew this prior to crawling into his life. What people thought about him, one rumor more unhinged than the other and you have no idea how much truth there was to them. Everyone has some sort of admiration, respect for him or repulsion of him. You just tend to forget sometimes, how malicious his cursed energy feels, how his eyes never reflect the light, looking outright dead. But it’s all so contradictory to his personality… you know that you’re dear to him, he’s willing to risk everything for his friends, he’s so starved for connection, to carve himself a place within people’s hearts. You blamed the whole phenomenon on Rika. And you took pride in yourself, for taming a monster.

“I feel so…” he suspires, trying his best to contain himself. “… weird.”

And he’s a kind monster indeed, even now, controlling his impulses as he humps your thigh like a feral dog.

“I don’t know if I’m able to hold back, so I need to know….”

His voice is desperate, almost a plea. He’s afraid of himself too. With the last bit of his sanity, he wants to make sure that it’s alright for you, whatever he has in store for you.

You don’t protest.

His lips crash into yours in a violent, hungry kiss. Your teeth clang together, he shoves his entire tongue in your mouth. He grabs the hem of your shorts, peeling off anything that covers you below the waist. You hear the fabric tear. It’s the same with his own clothes too, in a few blinks of your eyes he’s already stark naked.

He takes your hand, pulls it towards him, you can feel him in your palm. So hot, hard and swollen to the touch. He closes your fingers around him and his hips start moving back and forth, fucking himself into your grip. You smear the precum along his length with your fingertips, squeezing lightly when you feel the base. It has him moaning, breathily, more vocal than he usually is. He’s so sensitive, his pace quickens and his voice is thinner, almost like a whimper.

And he groans. Unexpectedly. It bursts deep from his throat. You feel his cum pooling in your palm. Though you may be surprised, you don’t make a big deal about it. You search for tissues on the bedside table to clean your hand like nothing happened.

“Feelin’ okay?”

Your voice is calming, tender, it warms his heart but the mere sight of his cum on your hand makes the blood rush to his dick again.

You sit up to caress his face. You open your mouth to question him, but he won’t let you start your aftercare routine.

“It’s… not enough.”

He grabs your thigh, hooking your leg over his shoulder, giving him better access to your naked core. Your back falls onto the mattress again.

“I’ll take care of you.”

It’s a promise, you’re sure of it.

His fingertips sink into your folds, relief ripples through him when he finds them already wet. He goes all out on you, his thumb circles your clit and two fingers dip in at your entrance, waiting to loosen you up so they can be pushed inside. His nails gently caress your inner thigh, it’s a tickling sensation, goosebumps dot your skin, a sigh dies on your lips. Treating it as a sign, his fingers start stretching your walls. They curl and curl inside you to the point of the cold band of his ring touching your folds, your essence soiling the stainless metal. The symbol of the haunting spirit of his first love. Childish love that it is, unserious, all just a game. The promises… the word forever holds no weight. Or maybe it does but they have no idea how hard it is to maintain those vows.

Can you ever compare to Rika in his eyes? Have the same effect over him? You don’t dare to talk about it just yet. No, the nature of your relationship is not the same. Childhood love is not like adult love, you just want some reassurance. You want to feel important.

And your reassurance is soaking that wretched finger with your juices. Make that wretched ring yours. He spreads his fingers inside you, scissoring you apart, eagerly working to prepare you. You’re holding onto the sheets and the pillows desperately, your body feels so volatile you might as well float away.

When he pulls out you feel hollow, incomplete. But he won’t keep you waiting long. The head of his cock feels like salvation. Scorching hot and wet with the mixed arousal. And he completes you with one smooth thrust. You’re whole, fulfilled, a merged existence worth suffering over. He’s throbbing deep within your walls, pulsating through your nerves. You can’t tell if the noise coming out of him is a moan, a whine, or a growl, you only know that it’s bordering on bestial. Filled with need, an ache, coupled with something beyond your comprehension.

He drills into you, there’s so much strength and resilience in him, it almost makes you scared. But something else also swells inside your chest. An unknown kind of excitement, a thrill, it makes you feverish, wired. The dissonance between his absolutely feral state and the fact that he’d never hurt you. Or maybe he would, in a way that you’d like it. Nobody could bite through your throat with such force that your windpipe breaks, only him, him and no one else.

He holds you at the back of your pelvic bone, lifts you up in an utterly perfect angle. You mewl him that it feels so good, so perfect, so raw. You love this feeling so much. You get completely lost and immersed in it.

“…it?”

His voice is faint yet his broken self-worth shines through it. Poor soul… You didn’t pay attention to his most important desire. He’s a parasite living off of your kind words, but nothing can make him as blissful as knowing you love him, despite everything he despises about himself. And you’ll feed him. Prove it to him that he matters more than the things he does to you.

“Oh Yuta, my sweet…” the rest of the sentence gets stuck in your throat as you open your arms and he crashes into your embrace like a lost, lonely puppy. You hug him tightly, brushing through his locks with a free hand. The sweat makes the strands stick together. “Of course I love you, don’t be silly.”

He might as well have been a puppy in his previous life. And now your words eased his guilt about his temporary condition. He gained your forgiveness.

What he does next is much more instinctual. He folds you in half, where your knees bend, is pressed right against his traps, your heels graze the middle of his back. Now his thrusts have weight, uncovering spots that even you had no idea that existed inside of you. Tears of joy prickle in your eyes, calling upon whatever deity’s name you can think of, off the top of your head. You can swear his pace increases at the sight. It’s so intense a broken cry erupts from your throat.

He thrusts right into a sweet spot, which has you melting and trembling. Please is the only word your lips can form. At this point, you couldn’t care less about the lewd sounds of your skin slapping together or the squelching noises that make the whole act sloppy, shameless and primal, you only want to reach your peak, and you’re not far from it as you’re clenching around him with a rhythm that you have no control over.

It crashes, it ruptures, sudden, sharp and hot like an electric spark. A scream empties your lungs, but Yuta muffles it with sealing his mouth onto yours. You feel yourself getting filled as you’re convulsing around his length.

After he fucks you through your orgasm you feel yourself shaking, your whole body is limp, numb, drifting slowly to sleep. You’re both soaked in sweat, your bodies stick together but there’s a need to bond further in each other’s embrace. You plant a kiss between his locks, praising him, telling him you love him. Satisfaction clouds your mind, like a soft, pillowy pink mist.

However, his cock is still not soft.

“I have no idea what has gotten into you.” you tell him, marveling, as you’re still catching on your breath. “I like it though, but you owe me an explanation.”

He handles you gently, like you’re some precious thing, made from glass, fragile. Your body is like a ragdoll’s, he has you lying on your stomach, lazily, flatly, you might as well fuse together with the mattress. Calloused fingers are drawing nonfigurative shapes on your shoulder blades.

“I’ll tell you right after we finish.”

Your blood runs cold for a moment.

“Again? Yuta, for the love of god I’m exhausted.” you whine.

He apologetically kisses your spine.

“Just this one, okay? Please? I’ll do all the work, I’ll make it quick. You only need to relax, you can sleep even.”

You want to tell him that sounds a little bit creepy, but you don’t have the strength to talk. He kisses the two shallow dimples right above your tailbone. His gaze lingers on your folds, admiring how red and swollen you are.

“If you manage to make me cum again, you deserve a fucking award.” you comment, face nuzzled into the pillow, your voice is obviously snarky.

You can feel teeth sinking into the flesh of your asscheek. The mark that is burning on your neck found it’s pair. He presses down your overly sensitive clit with his thumb, balancing the pain out with pleasure. But it gets overstimulated so easily, you feel the need to bite the pillow.

You brace yourself with a deep breath through your nose. You’re going to pay him back next time, you promise yourself that you’ll make a begging, crying mess out of him, and the thought makes you chuckle.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #yuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #do not perceive me please idk how I came up with the whole cannibalcore pipeline #yuta okkotsu x you #jjk x reader #meesa writes

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chosobaby · 2 years

Text

nsfw / fem!reader

sakusa kiyoomi always thinks you look pretty.

you look pretty in the morning. it’s still dark, blackout curtains blocking the sun from letting its fingers seep through any cracks, and his arm is hooked around your waist. your hair is a mess while your lips are slightly pouting. your eyes begin to flutter open and a grin spreads across your face as he brings a hand up to brush your cheek. kiyoomi thinks you’re really pretty.

you also look pretty in the afternoon. blossoms of white drift across the sky and a gentle breeze blows your hair back. your hand is in his as you give him such a sweet smile while you talk about your day; it makes him feel warm on the inside. kiyoomi still thinks look really pretty.

but he thinks you look the prettiest in the evening — when you’re underneath him and letting out equally pretty noises.

his right hand is wrapped around your neck, the left planted next to your head, and your legs are wrapped around his slim, naked waist.

“you’re so pretty,” he says, “so fucking pretty,” while his hips continue to pound into you and tears spill down your cheeks. he shifts the hand choking you to drag his thumb down your bottom lip. shades of lilac and wisteria begin to bloom on your collarbones.

“ki-kiyoomi,” you moan as your hands reach to cup his face.

his dark, wide eyes stare into yours. “yeah, pretty?”

“you’re so, so pretty too — my pretty, pretty angel.”

you barely get the words out, and your eyes roll all the way back as it hits you. your toes curl and you throw your head backward, arms immediately taking their place around his shoulders.

he ignores the way your nails dig into his skin, leaving his back with long streaks of rosy hues. and he ignores the way he desperately needs to cum, because all his senses can do is focus on your pretty sounds, your pretty face, your pretty tits, your pretty everything.

yeah, kiyoomi thinks you’re the prettiest.

#please do not perceive me.#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa smut #kiyoomi x reader #haikyuu smut #hq x reader #haikyuu sakusa #haikyuu!!#<kiyoomi3 #hq #yna.writes #…nsfw

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tomkinard · 6 months

Text

Which is a thing!

DANANDPHILGAMES Dan and Phil are Dating Boys

#dan and phil #phil lester #dan and phil games #dapg #dnpedit #alielook #swearphil #dnp #*#PLEASE do not perceive me #i am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

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ticklekinks · 2 months

Text

ticklish henry fox a headcanon so very special to me. henry curling up in a giggly ball trying to protect his soft tummy from alex’s poking. henry blushing and squirming because alex’s stubble or newly grown facial hair is tickling his thighs as he kisses them. alex nibbling on henry’s hips as henry covers his face with his arms but does absolutely nothing to actually stop him. henry living his whole life forcing down his desires and emotions but feeling so comfortable with alex that he can let it all out. i’m normal about this

#yall i love rwrb so bad and i was having thoughts with nowhere else to express them please bear with me #henry fox you are SO LOVED #rwrb #red white and royal blue #red white & royal blue #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #firstprince #RWRB FANS PLEASE DO NOT PERCEIVE THE REST OF MY BLOG #DONT WORRY ABOUT IT #alex loves henry’s tummy i don’t make the rules

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