#like how hard was it to just keep it close to the window??

[luluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu]

˗ˏˋ♡ˎˊ˗𝓗𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓮𝓷 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓮 ˗ˏˋ♡ˎˊ˗

˚ ✶ ⋆｡˚𓆟 Synopsis: You're not in love, that's what you keep telling yourself. But if you keep denying it, it'll only hurt you more

˚ ✶ ⋆｡˚𓆟Extra Details: F!Reader, Unrequited love. Angst, only cussed once or twice I think

˚ ✶ ⋆｡˚𓆟 Lovely Notes: This took me a week to write so hopefully you guys like it! Requests are open and I will be posting Se-mi fake dating tomorrow since it needs MAJOR editing. Also Requests are open!

────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────────────

It's easy to live in denial, but accepting the truth is one of the hardest things to do. Acceptance and denial. Two words so closely related yet so different. It was so easy to convince yourself Se-mi was just a friend whilst you ignore the way your heart races when she looks in your direction. It’s so easy saying you don’t like her despite the tingling jealousy that builds up whenever she talks or even mentions another girl. Convincing everyone that you had absolutely no romantic feelings for her was almost as easy as breathing, but the more you deny it, the more painful the truth and acceptance will be.

The more the words repeat in your head, the more you are forced to remember how long you've been putting these feelings aside all in denial. Se-mi is going on a date with a girl she met at one of Thanos's parties. “I’m just looking out for her” was the same excuse you had always told yourself. Just a protective friend definitely not because the mere idea of her even looking at another girl in that way hurts. We're just friends and I'm just a friend to her.

Just a friend

Just…a…friend….

The more the words repeat in your head, the more it feels true yet the impending hope of what things could overshadow the denial. I mean if it's so easy to convince them…why can't you convince yourself? Why is it so hard to just be okay with her going on a date with another girl…a girl that isn't you. Why is it so hard to just accept that you are nothing more than her friend?

Saturday afternoon rolled around, and a harsh knock at your bedroom window had woken you up. It was Se-mi, it was only ever her. You slowly get up from the warmth of your comfortable bed, a strangely unfamiliar place. This was wrong, you knew it was wrong but why are you still giving in? Despite your better judgement, you open the window and let her in. Se-mi does her signature smirk “Woke you up?” she asks, sitting on your bed. “No..Kind of?” you say standing up and looking at her. “Uhmm? What's up?” You say, your voice sounded quieter and slightly nervous but why were YOU nervous? It was just Se-mi. “Okay so I'm supposed to meet Ji-Yeong- later at the amusement park” Se-mi says excitedly. You stare at her, your eyes looking hollow as you try to hold in the jealousy. No, it wasn't jealousy, you thought to yourself, it was just that you didn't like how Ji-Yeong treated her. That's all. “Uh-huh” you gave her a half response as she talks about her excitement “She's pretty and nice, it think we'd be more than a casual fling” Se-mi jokes. Se-Mi had always been a bit of a player ever since you had met her. It was never the same girl.

“Cool, have fun with her” you say, your tone was harsher, colder. A tone you've never used with Se-mi. Your response catches her off guard “Woah, something wrong?” she asks. Se-mi had always been good at reading your feelings and being able to tell when something was wrong. “Nothing’s wrong, I just woke up so I'm just sleepy! yep very sleepy still and probably tired..like REALLY tired” you say starting to ramble and hoping that your response was convincing enough.

“Staying up late editing again, huh?” She teased.You roll your eyes “shouldn’t you be getting reader for your date with Ji-yeong” You say as your voice became snarky the instant you said her name. “Woah don't get all sassy, I just know you too well” She says with a big grin. But if she really knew you so well, then how come she didn't notice? How did she not see how you were so obviously in love with her. Maybe she did and just chose to ignore it or maybe she didn't know you at all. You're suddenly taken back to reality when Se-mi places her hand on your shoulders “Hey, you're not upset about me waking you up right?” Her voice was gentle and sweet. Your face flushes “Yeah” you say as Se-Mi smiles and hugs you gently

It was a tough day that day, after se-mi had left for her date you couldn't stop wondering. Wondering if the date was okay, wondering if Se-mi talked to Ji-yeong the same way she did with you. Se-mi’s date should be over by now, she hadn't even texted you. You were hoping, begging even that Se-mi would come over to say it didn't go well. For her to go to your apartment and realize she wanted you. No, you just want her to be okay, you don't like her, you're not in love. But if you're not, why does it hurt so Goddamn bad that she's on a date with Kim Ji-Yeong and not YOU. It's almost like your prayers had been answered the moment you heard your door knocked, you rushed towards your door, wiping your face from any kind of imperfection you thought you had. Slowly, you open the door and smile warmly seeing Se-mi. “Hey!” you said, your voice seemed all too happy. “Hi” she smiled warmly as she walked in and sat on your couch. “How'd it go?” you say quietly, wishing in every bone in your body that she'd say it went horrible, it was bad and she'd never go to Ji-yeong ever again.

“We’re dating now!” Se-mi says with such excitement in her voice. Your smile immediately drops and before you know it you’re staring at her, dumbstruck.”What?” what, the only words you could muster out. “The date went perfect, we were going to take it slow but she’s just too good to lose” Se-mi says with a bright grin. You stare at her in silence “You need to go” you whisper quietly. “What? Did I say something wrong?” Se-mi says in an upset tone “I just need you to leave, like right now” You say your voice cracks as you feel tears threatening to fall. “I’m not fucking leaving you until you tell me what’s wrong?” she says as she stands up. Her face was stern as she stared at you. And before you know it, you’re crying screaming out every single thing you’ve felt for the past 5 years. “I’m in love with you Se-mi! I can’t keep doing this! It hurts knowing you’re not MINE. I can’t even stand the mere idea that you’re hanging around other people. You can’t even see that, I’ve tried so hard to not be in love with you but I can’t. I can’t… I can’t keep living like this, I can’t keep acting like I don’t love you and that we’re just best friends” You say, stumbling on your words as you rant. Se-mi stared at you with a blank expression. “Look, You’re a great person and the best friend” she starts but you don’t even let her finish “Please… Just leave” you choked out through your tears and she glances at you one last time before leaving.

WIth a heavy heart, you knew you should’ve stayed quiet. Emotions aren’t easy. Maybe if you had just accepted instead of denying, maybe the weights in your hearts wouldn’t drag you down like an anchor. Maybe then, Se-mi would still have been your best friend.

[dannyboy-writes]

Just some IV

Helloo!! This is the end of this story! I hope you’ve enjoyed it and thank you so much for all the feedback it had :)

The sunlight coming from the window startled you, and you noticed Natasha standing by it, her back to you.

She had only just woken, or you had grown too used to her slipping out of your arms as you slept.

“Why are you up?” You asked, your voice straining at your throat.

She tensed, then relaxed. “I was thinking.”

“What?”

“It’s late.”

“By the way the light is coming in, yes." It was probably mid morning, Fury wasn't going to like the lost hours. "But you weren't thinking that." 

She smiled to herself, turning to look at you. "No, I wasn't."

You stretched your arms and back, still laying down. "What were you really thinking?" 

She shook her head, "It doesn't matter."

You weren't satisfied with her answer, but she continued nonetheless, "How's your nose?"

You sat up, “I've had worse."

She sat by you, toying with her fingers. Silent.

"How did you sleep?" You asked.

She sighed, "Fine for a while."

"And then?"

"I keep having nightmares," she admitted, your eyes focused on her.

Nightmares were common in your line of work, you grew used to them. Waking up in a cold sweat, hand in your gun or a knife. Throwing something nearby your hand in a reflex.

"What about?"

She bit her lip, staring at you. At your busted nose, and the stitches they had sewn in your eyebrow. Light violet bruise by your cheek and half your face lit with the sun.

The morning sunlight did wonders in your face. 

"You." She let out quickly. "You're in all my nightmares."

You furrowed your brows, "Wha- How? Why?"

"I'm terrified.”

”Of me?"

“For you.” Your eyes were so focused on hers she felt you would pierce through her. “I'm terrified of what could happen to you. Every night I dream something goes wrong, and every night I wake up panting thinking you're gone.

I've had them for so long now. First I thought they would go away, that one day I would just stop freaking out. Then I pushed you away because it was driving me crazy,” she smiled, “And that didn't work. At all. Now I was just worried but at a distance. And then I couldn't sleep anymore.”

You didn't speak.

"The night we fell asleep on the couch was the first real sleep I had in weeks. And that is not a comfy sofa," she chuckled.

She searched in your face for a hint of something, but you had always been hard to read. “Say something, please."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I- Thought it would be easier."

You shook your head in disbelief, pinching your nose softly, and you looked up at her.

Her hair fell on her face as she looked downwards some more, so you tilted her head up holding her cheeks. "I never wanted this to be over. It was your call." You put a hair strand behind her ear. "Is that still what you want, Nat?"

Her eyes found yours with determination this time. "No."

You kissed her deeply and she melted into you, desperate for your embrace. Your hands rustling her hair and pulling her closer to you. Not stopping to breathe. 

Her nose brushed yours and a pinch of pain went up your nerves, but you swallowed any whine that would come out. Her hands clasped tightly your face, not letting you go.

She pulled closer and closer to you and one movement put her nose too close to yours and you stopped in pain.

"I'm sorry." She stopped to look at you. 

“It’s fine.” You caressed her cheek. “I’m more than okay.” You smiled.

“Me too.”

[twistedpink]

Psst.👀 Sneaky link! Azul sounds promising~

Azul Ashengrotto- the blue blooded schemer, an indignant overblotee, and the most pathetic guy to ever hook up with you. It’s not even like he revels in it, just closes his pretty eyes to the truth of it all. But you like that in a boytoy, don’t you? <3

Sneaky link!Azul doesn’t just roll over and let you take him, you need to work for it! He’d had a whole plan to be married in exactly seven years, but when does anything go right for Azul? It was going perfectly- you finally took his offer and were on staff for a couple weeks (his perfect tension building window), but the second he gets you alone,, You completely dominate him. Azul drowns in you, and he’s totally confident that you’re too big of a fish to fry. He’d only prepared to be on top! He’s meant to be! He’ll concede this once, but surely it won’t set a pattern,,

Sneaky link!Azul’s libido is shockingly low for his age, but that only means hooking up when you want it. He’s done so much to woo you with material goods, so why won’t you date him already?? It’s hard enough to smooze when your tongue’s down his throat, not to mention how you leave right after :( He’s squishy, and that means Azul needs aftercare!!! But it’s no matter to his doll, so long as you get your rocks off.. Whatever is he to do?

Sneaky link!Azul is whiney. He hates that you can get him so vulnerable, but somehow that’s what makes you special <3 You hold almost no affection for him, but you still stay. Still wipe his slack-jawed tears or drool!, and while he does wish you were more “present” (romantically, you guys bang way too often), maybe this is for the best. Maybe he doesn’t deserve your “best self” because he can’t service you,, The next time he sucks bruises into your skin, or grabs onto you for an anchor, he’ll keep that in mind :)

Your crybaby is holding on to you for dear life, so how are you supposed to dump him? It was supposed to be easy! Poor you, forced into a situationsionship with a chronic clinger. Azul will do anything to make you stay- buy, steal, cheat, like he wouldn’t do that already so please just make a deal with him :( He knows the stakes intimately, and he promises to make it worth your while <3

[angelofthenight01]

Crumbling barriers

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

genre: fluff     ||     warnings: none 

It was late when Natasha Romanoff stepped into the dimly lit living room of the Avengers compound. Her black leather jacket clung to her frame, her movements sleek and purposeful as always. Her green eyes flickered toward you, briefly meeting your gaze before she looked away, the weight of something heavy lingering between you two.

You had known Natasha for a while now—long enough to understand that she was a woman of few words, one whose emotions were usually hidden beneath layers of skillful armor. Yet, tonight felt different. There was a shift in the air, something that made you uneasy, like a storm waiting to break.

“Didn’t expect anyone to still be up,” she said, her voice low and steady, yet there was an underlying tension that you couldn’t ignore.

You sat up from the couch, abandoning the book you had been reading. “Couldn’t sleep,” you confessed, your gaze studying her. “Bad mission?”

Natasha let out a quiet breath, taking a step further into the room. “You could say that.” She moved to the bar, reaching for a bottle of water. Her hand trembled slightly as she twisted the cap off, but it was almost imperceptible—just a fraction of a moment that would have gone unnoticed by anyone who didn’t pay close attention.

“Natasha, you don’t have to do this alone, you know,” you said, your voice soft but unwavering. You knew how fiercely independent she was, how much she fought to keep her burdens to herself. But you also knew there were moments when even the strongest needed someone to lean on.

She paused, her back still turned toward you as she took a long sip from the bottle. “I don’t need anyone,” she muttered, almost to herself, as if saying the words aloud would make them more true.

But you didn’t let her retreat. You stood up, closing the distance between you, your presence steady and warm. “I know you don’t like to rely on others. But you’ve got to know, Natasha, that you’re not alone. Not with me.”

For the first time that night, she turned to look at you, her expression guarded, but there was something different in her eyes. The cracks in her walls were starting to show, even if she didn’t want them to.

A pause hung between you, and then Natasha exhaled sharply, as if the weight of everything she had been holding back had become too much. “It’s just… hard, sometimes. To let go. To trust.”

You took another step forward, your voice gentle but firm. “You don’t have to let go completely. You just have to know that it’s okay to let someone in. Even if it’s just a little bit.”

Her lips parted, as though she was about to say something, but she stopped herself, her gaze flickering toward the window, staring into the night. The silence stretched, comfortable yet filled with unspoken words.

Finally, she spoke, her voice quieter than usual. “I never asked for this life, you know. The guilt… the things I’ve done… they don’t go away, no matter how much I try to move past them. And sometimes, I feel like no one really sees me, not the real me.”

You stepped even closer, your voice soft but sure. “I see you. All of you. And I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to be here. With me. If you’re willing.”

For a long moment, Natasha said nothing, but her gaze softened, her shoulders slowly relaxing. She took a deep breath, as if she were weighing your words, measuring their truth.

And then, without warning, she stepped closer to you, closing the gap you had left open between you both. Her hand reached out, brushing your cheek ever so gently, her touch light but filled with a tenderness that you hadn’t expected.

“Maybe… maybe I could let you in, just a little,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But you’ll have to be patient with me.”

You smiled, your heart racing, but you remained calm, steady for her. “I’ll wait as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

And in that moment, Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, the woman who had been through more than anyone should ever endure, let her walls fall just enough to let you in. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

And you both knew that, in time, the rest would come. Together.

[tealfates]

welcome!! how about kinich or scara(or anyone , its your choice ofc!) x reader hurt/comfort with an insecurity of your choice where they finds you staring into a mirror? hehe anyways good luck and now i can proudly say supporting since day 1!

-anonnie, hope to talk to you soon!

Kinich x Reader comfort <3

When it was rainy season in Natlan, everything felt dampened, muddy, and that’s how your spirits felt today, after a particularly difficult training you had pushed yourself through. The clouds overhead grew heavier by the second.

The clouds overhead grew heavier by the second. Even as they did, the storm that raged inside you seemed louder than anything the heavens could muster. You found yourself inside the bathroom of you and Kinich’s shared home, knuckles gripping the cool tile of the sink tightly as you faced yourself in the mirror, silent tears streaming down your face, almost in sync with the raindrops pattering down on the windows.

Why had everything felt so overwhelming? Why did it seem like no matter how hard you tried and trained to become better, to help fight off the abyss for Natlan, you were never good enough? You buried your face in your hands, the weight of your emotions threatening to pull you into the darkness of the abyss itself.

It was then that a soft but steady voice broke through the storm—both the one outside and within.

"Are you alright?"

You looked up, not noticing that Kinich had been standing in the doorframe, and you hadn’t realized that he had approached, footsteps silent as usual. His eyes, holding a special softness reserved only for you, looked at you with concern, his usually stoic expression now etched with subtle worry.

Kinich, always strong, calculating, useful to Natlan, didn’t deserve to witness your weakness and pitiful fit. You didn’t want him to see you like this.

"I… I’m fine," you whispered, voice shaky, though the lie tasted sharp on your tongue.

Kinich was quiet for a moment before stepping closer, his presence grounding and gentle. Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. The rain outside was beginning to fall heavier now, thundering against the glass pane, but you felt safe in his arms.

"You’re not fine," he said softly, his voice almost a murmur against the backdrop of nature's fury. "I can tell."

His simple touch was warm and grounding, and it made the tears start flowing again—this time, without shame or hesitation.

"I'm sorry," you whispered through the sobs that wracked your chest. "I don't want to burden you with this…"

"You’re not a burden,” Kinich said, his voice steady, yet filled with an undeniable gentleness. You proceeded to bury your face in the fabric of his shirt, stealing his warmth with gratefulness.

Kinich remained with you without question, without judgment—just with an unspoken understanding. His hand stroked your hair softly, the motion reassuring and kind.

“Let it out,” he murmured, his breath warm against the crown of your head as he placed a soft kiss there. “Whatever it is, it’s alright to cry. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

“Everything feels so overwhelming,” you choked out. “I don’t know if I can keep up anymore with everyone. They’re all fighting hard to defend Natlan, and I’m failing, no matter how hard I try to fight.”

Kichin’s grip tightened around you, and he pulled you back just enough to meet your gaze. “You’re not failing,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “You’re allowed to have moments like this. We all are.”

You stared at him, breath hitching in your chest as his words sunk in.“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to fall apart like this,” you whispered, voice trembling.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Kichin replied with a gentle smile, though his eyes remained serious. “You’re human. You deserve to let go, to lean on someone when you need it.”

You cried until there were no more tears left to shed, knowing that you didn’t have to face the world alone.

The rain outside had stopped, leaving nothing more than droplets on the windows, as you tilted your head up to face him. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice steady now.

He gave you a rare, soft smile in return. “Anytime.”

———————

authors note~: thank you so much anonnie! Glad to see you here from day 1 <3 I appreciate you so much!! On a different note y’all how do people get their stuff so aesthetic?? istg I need like a tumblr parent to teach me how to do this stuff hahahaha

[cybergoth1]

the evil eye | dick grayson x fem!yandere reader

synopsis: ❛❛detective (and vigilant by night) dick grayson turns to you as a last resort to solve a case involving a new serial killer terrorizing blüdhaven. after years paying for your crimes in the depths of arkham asylum, the last thing you expected was the police showing up at your door, desperate for your help. even more surprising is the overwhelming, unsettling and obsessive pull you start to feel toward him as you two work side by side❞.

warnings/tags: 18+, major dark themes, fem!reader, yandere tendencies, yandere!reader, reader's a ex criminal, ex serial killer, reader is the hannibal to dick's will graham. detective dick grayson is a warning. sexual content. mentions of killing, mentions of psychopathy and narcissism. mentions of time in arkham. gaslighting. reader literally killed people, be aware. inspired by hannibal and silence of the lambs. obsessive behavior. stalker!reader. batfamily hates you.

— ❛❛THE EVIL EYE'S CONTENT:

PROLOGUE: but you belong to me.

CHAPTER 01: you set my soul alight.

CHAPTER 02: she ate my heart and then she eat my brain.

UNLIKE MOST OF your fellow prisoners, you’d never actually been involved in a mass breakout. You’d usually overhear their elaborate escape plans over the awful prison food, nodding with a bored expression. Then, you’d simply be escorted back to your cell, spending the rest of your free time before lights out reading a dog-eared copy of Pride and Prejudice. You vaguely remembered when Harley Quinn’s voice suddenly grew unbearably loud, and the tempers of the other prisoners began flaring far beyond their usual levels. The unbearable noise seemed to slither through your brain like a slippery snake, making you roll your eyes. You saw them as little monkeys — unpolished and uneducated — acting impulsively with the few brain cells they had left in their heads. Good thing they don’t like you either. Most of them just saw you as a snobby bitch, looking down on them as if you weren’t just another miserable soul trapped in the abuses and horrors of Arkham Asylum.

“Hey, is it true that you killed a guy just because he stepped on your foot on the subway?” you heard Harley’s annoying voice again, this time interrupting your beloved sunbath. You sighed loudly and made the foolish decision to glance at her curious figure.

"That's fucking stupid" you said, closing your eyes again to feel the sun on your cold skin.

"Yes! That's what I told Ivy," she said cheerfully, her high pitched voice growing louder as she come closer to your body. You felt a persistent, almost irrational urge to strike her "you never killed for shallow reasons!" this makes you open your eyes and examine her closely. How could she possibly understand your motivations? Sometimes it was hard for you to wrapped your head around it. Harley felt your questioning gaze and shrugged.

"Oh, come on, I'm a psychiatrist. I have a Phd, for godsake".

"Yeah, I know".

"You always choose victims who offend your morals and your personal sense of justice. We should totally be friends".

You sigh loudly again. You wouldn’t call them victims — but none of it mattered anymore. Harley keeps rambling about your personality traits and psychological evaluations, like a true psychiatrist would, while you let your mind wander, staring at the other prisoners. They all look as beaten down as you did. You could still feel your busted lips aching after a guard punched you in the face for not taking your meds — you run your tongue over the wound, savoring the metallic taste.

"Hey, Quinn?"

"Hm?"

“When we’re out of here, look me up. We could go out for a drink.”

Twelve years, eight months, and twenty days. That's the total time you spent locked up, basically rooting, in Arkham Asylum since your pre-trial detention, watching the sun rise through a small square window while trying not to kill your annoying cellmates by suffocating them with pillows and dirty sheets. The guards were well aware of your tendencies and unpredictable behavior, making sure to threaten you at every possible moment.

"I killed people for less, you know that, right?" that was always enough to earn you a new torture session at the hands of the guards, you usually just call them dogs, and sometimes even the nurses when they were having a bad day. But, in the end, you always considered yourself strong, capable, and with an impenetrable mind. And you were, in fact, all of that and more — so much more that you endured the horrors of that place for over a decade as if it were a walk in the park. A long, agonizing, shitty walk in the park. And now you’re walking as a free woman after twelve years, feeling the wind on your face while clenching the cheap cigarette between your teeth. Almost free, at least. You're serving the rest of your sentence in a parole due to your impressive good behaviour.

Under certain negotiation and strict conditions, you were released two weeks ago, seizing the opportunity to finally disappear into anonymity in another city — unfortunately still close to Arkham. You had to settle for Blüdhaven during the legal arrangement, since you couldn’t leave New Jersey during your parole and you’d rather eat your own feet than spending another day in Gotham. You got yourself a small apartment in a horrible neighborhood, cheap enough to cover the rent with your new part-time job as a cashier. No one there cared enough to check your criminal record or ask why you always had to be home early, or why you occasionally had to report to the police station just to confirm you hadn’t left the state. That's the life.

“To new beginnings,” you said quietly, raising your glass to the empty living room before immediately downing the whiskey. It taste like dog piss — better than anything you had in prision.

The first four months of your newfound freedom were tainted by the bitter taste of mediocrity and a gnawing sense of inferiority every time your eyes fell on the crumbling walls of your apartment or the stack of papers from your public defender, detailing the suffocating limitations of your parole. The justice system had reduced you to a chained dog —muzzled, restrained, and stripped of dignity.

But you were destined for greatness — you felt it every time you looked in the mirror, every time you saw your own perfection. You were intelligent, strategic, and able to perceive what others could not. Those fortunate enough to be part of your life should be grateful for your words, your brilliant ideas, and the sheer privilege of your presence.

Thanks to your sharp intellect and keen observation, it didn’t take long for you to identify the patterns in your part-time job. Your boss, the supermarket manager, was a disgusting man who took pleasure in belittling his employees, particularly the young women. He exploited his position to satisfy his vile desires, acting as a reprehensible predator. Throughout your shift, you spent much of your time thinking of ways to rid the world of his vile presence. You believed you would be doing everyone a favor, even if they couldn’t understand it — few had the courage or capacity to do what was necessary for the greater good. That's why you existed. You were the necessary evil.

But since you needed the money, you chose a more effective approach than simply eliminating him. You manipulated him, exploiting his own immorality to gain what you desired — more perks and less work. You allowed him to believe that one day, if he keeps helping you out, you would let him take you to a cheap motel, or his car, and fuck you like a brainless fleshlight, just the way he wanted.

You kept him on edge, making him believe he was in control while portraying yourself as a vulnerable girl who needed an older man to take care of her — both emotionally and physically. You told countless lies, fabricating an abusive ex and a negligent father, allowing him to revel in his foolish fantasy of being needed by you — while he was nothing but a fun game to play. Now that you had your boss on a leash, desperate for you, he stopped bothering the other girls, too busy looking at your ass and tits every time you passed in front of him. You made a point to wear tighter pants and unbutton a few extra buttons on your uniform.

That's the necessary evil you belived so much.

Unfortunately, your peace of mind was short-lived. Just as you were beginning to earn enough money to continue your life in a less humiliating way, a knock at your door ushered in a reality you would have preferred to avoid. You rose from the couch, the cigarette still lit and clamped between your lips.

“I didn’t order anything,” you said, looking at the five cops crowded at your door. Two of them weren’t in uniform, only the large, shiny badges identifying them as part of the Blüdhaven Police Department. The only woman in the group looked at you with a blank expression, calling you by your last name before taking a step closer.

"I'm detective Montoya, this is my partner detective Grayson" she said pointing to the tall figure on her left side. When you finally looked at her partner, you felt the cigarette between your lips become flat under your force as you clenched your teeth tighter, struggling to suppress a sicking smile. Those were the bluest eyes you had ever seen, watching you warily, his black hair falling gracefully over his forehead. He stood behind Montoya, carefully analyzing your posture and movements. Smart, but you were smarter.

Montoya mentioned something about the police and FBI wanting to talk to you. You were too consumed by the overwhelming, nauseating feeling rising within you as you stared at the stunning man in front of you — it’s happening again. You fought to suppress a wild smirk, your pupils dilating as shivers ran up your spine. He looked back at you with those beautiful eyes, like a piece of the sky or even the ocean.

You already knew what to do.

“I guess one talk won’t hurt,” you said, then opened the door for them.

get in the mood: I. monster, II. bad romance, III. judas, IV. toxic, V. supermassive black hole, VI. teeth, VII. criminal, VIII. radar, IX. gimme more.

author's note: well, reader is fucking insane, but she's slaying ok. please let me know if you want to join the taglist.

[sturnstarrz]

formally introducing... a mafia!chratt au

“we’ve all broken our rules for someone." "...or two."

the italian mafia is the strongest and deadliest crime organization that exists in new york city. there's several families that have withstood decades fighting against each other within the mafia to gain control over the city.

the sturniolo family has held power above all others for generations. the name is feared in most households, their reputation being a ruthless one. if you were someone who ever got caught up in their dealings, you quickly came to learn that they were a cruel and intimidating family. they kept their circle tight, their business unknown and their money flowing.

but they honored loyalty like no other. they were fierce when it came to protecting their own. and you had known the sturniolo brothers since you were a small child.

justin, nick, matt, and chris.

your mother told you stories about the couple that lived in the house directly across from yours. she used to be close friends with them. a few days after you were born, they welcomed triplets. practically everyone in town ranted and raved, gushing over the rare occurrence.

however, their father jimmy, did not appreciate the amount of attention that it was gathering.

he adored his baby boys... loved them. but he was a hard and strict man, involved in a dangerous line of work. something he was able to keep a secret for years. he couldn't afford people sticking their noses into his life, more than they usually did. especially when he was on the cusp of something big at the time.

he wanted to send the boys to live with their uncle on the other side of town. they could still learn the ropes of the family business, as all sons are expected to do in the mafia.

they would be raised there, at least until they were older, and gained their own identities and differences. as small children, you could barely tell them apart. they would get stopped almost every place they went. jimmy argued with mary lou, insisting that they would be the cause of him getting caught. he was paranoid. he believed attention lead to gossip and gossip lead to exposure.

the mafia weren't the only cruel and harsh people in the city.

but mary lou refused, threatening that she would divorce him if he made them leave. so he had no choice but to keep his boys home.

he was tough on them, like he was with justin. teaching them how to fight, how to intimidate. how to run the business.

how to take over when the day comes and he would be gone.

he was arrested when you were 16, the memories of it still fresh in your mind. it was the early hours of the morning when you heard the loud banging.. the shouting. their house was raided, and you watched from your bedroom window as they dragged out jimmy in handcuffs.

it was then you found out what kind of world the triplets were really born into.

it was agreed since you were young that they would always protect you, due to your mothers connection from years ago and the bond that seemed to develop as you all grew up together.

there used to be sunny afternoons, goofing around in their backyard after school or snowy weekends during the winter, sipping stolen liquor around the warm fireplace.

but after the arrest, you didn't see your friends as much as you used to. it quickly changed into them missing days from school and friday nights alone in your room. their uncle rob would often take the boys on jobs, while their mom was passed out drunk on the couch.

he moved into their house once jimmy was sentenced to help continue raising them. he was given 15 years. the boys would be much older then, and they needed to catch up fast to the harsh realities of their family business. who knew what could happen to their father in jail.. being one of the most undercover powerful crime bosses in the city meant you had plenty enemies.

and now... it's 1987. you just turned 21, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. your mom is sick, and has been for the past few years. cancer.

it's just you and your aunt now to take care of her. your dad left when you were 5 and you've only felt a real sense of family when you used to eat sunday dinner at the sturniolo house.

your dreams of attending university once you graduated are lost. the cozy diner a few blocks from your neighborhood is currently keeping you afloat, and you save whatever money you can from tips so that you can maintain a sliver of hope of moving far away from this crime-ridden and corrupt city.

you avoid the sturniolos like the plague. you want nothing to do with their way of living. and they don't seem to care about the distance you've created or they're simply too involved in their business, the own crushing weight of their family name and responsibilities on their shoulders as well.

it's just that... you can't help the feeling of longing that resides in your chest. the way you miss what once was.

you hold a soft spot in your heart for them, for their family. they might intimidate everyone else but not you. you know them.

you know who they really are.

disclaimer! : this au is dark and has many themes and descriptions of violence, crime, sex and drugs. i do not condone any of the actions or events that will be included in this story nor do i claim to have accurate knowledge of gangs, mafias, crime, etc. it's also a borderline poly relationship dynamic between reader and matt and chris [not incestual obviously] but if that bothers you, then this fic is not for you.

divider credits : @strangergraphics

[kxttqi]

ノ [01] THE START OF IT ALL (t. oikawa x f!reader)

fic m.list . prev

+ content: swearing, suggestive, crack, kys/kms jokes, manga spoilers for timeskip, written and smau

guys i beg ignore the microsoft emojis its a long story 😢😢

[ send a comment under the fic m.list or send an ask to be added to the taglist!! (4/50) ]

the arrival in brazil had been smooth. yachi had booked a cozy airbnb close to the beach, tucked away in a neighborhood where the scent of saltwater clung to the air and the sound of crashing waves provided a soundtrack to every moment. after a quick power nap—just enough to shake off the haze of the flight—you found yourselves walking along sunlit streets, the kind that felt alive with color, on your way to the beach where hinata was set to play.  

you hadn’t expected to feel so at ease this soon. brazil was bright and unfamiliar, but something about it wrapped itself around you like a warm breeze, coaxing you to settle into its rhythm. what you really hadn’t expected, though, was to run into oikawa tooru at a small café on your first morning.  

the café was tucked into the corner of a quiet street, its awning striped with faded green and white, the smell of fresh pão de queijo wafting out onto the sidewalk. you’d walked into the cafe, still shaking the sleep from your bones, when you noticed him.  

at first, you weren’t sure. the early morning light filtered through the windows at just the right angle to make the edges of everything a little too bright, a little too surreal.   

but it was hard to miss the way he carried himself: tall, composed, every movement so deliberate it felt more like choreography than casual habit. he was standing at the counter, ordering something in fluent portuguese that rolled off his tongue like he'd been born speaking it.  

you knew of him, of course. who didn’t? even if you weren’t religious about every volleyball match, his name was impossible to avoid. he was a figure who existed in stories, in highlight reels, in the corners of conversations you only half-listened to. yet here he was, very much real, very much in front of you.  

your gaze must have lingered too long, because as he turned to leave, his eyes caught yours.  

he smiled.  

“hey,” he said, his voice smooth, warm. “i think i know you. you’re… y/n, right?”  

it took you a second to process. oikawa tooru not only recognized you, but knew your name. you blinked, fumbling to keep your expression neutral even as your stomach twisted itself into knots.  

“uh, yeah,” you managed, suddenly acutely aware of how disheveled you probably looked after the long flight. “that’s me. and… you’re oikawa.”  

he laughed, a sound that was annoyingly charming, the kind of laugh that made you feel like you were the punchline to a joke you hadn’t realized you were telling. “small world, huh? what brings you to brazil?”  

you shrugged, trying to appear unbothered, though the weight of his gaze made it hard to stand still. “vacation, sort of. i’m here with a friend for a university project.”  

his eyes lit up, sharp and curious, and you had the distinct feeling that oikawa was the kind of person who could make you want to spill your life story without meaning to. “a project? what kind of project?”  

you explained it briefly—the film project, how you and yachi were here to gather inspiration and maybe even shoot some footage of hinata’s matches. he nodded along, his interest feeling genuine, which only made you more self-conscious under the weight of it.  

“that’s impressive,” he said. “if you need any help, let me know. i’m not bad with a camera.”  

he grinned, but there was something in his tone—half-joking, half-serious. before you could decide how to respond, yachi appeared by your side, wide-eyed and a little out of breath.  

“y/n! we need to leave soon if we want to get to hinata’s game,” she said, her voice cutting through the haze of the conversation.  

you glanced back at oikawa, offering a small, apologetic smile. “i guess i’ll see you around?”  

he waved as you turned to leave, his grin softening into something easier, less practiced. “yeah, see you.”  

the two of you stepped out into the sunlight, the warmth of the interaction lingering on your skin like the heat rising from the pavement. as you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance back once. he had taken a seat at one of the decorated tables now with what you assumed were some of his argentinian friends, sipping a latte.   

[ tagging: @stwberri @scoupsworld @x3nafix @kenyuukissme ]

© kxttqi — do not repost, copy, translate or steal my works without permission.

[aghost-writer]

Sugar

Chapter 1

This is a Yandere BNHA Pro Heroes x Reader Fic!

MDNI!!

The soft glow of vanity lights illuminated Y/N’s face as she leaned forward, carefully applying the last stroke of crimson lipstick. The shade was bold, striking, and exactly what he liked. Y/N tilted her head slightly, studying her reflection with practiced precision. Everything was perfect—the makeup, the sleek black dress, the quiet air of sophistication that filled the luxury penthouse she now called home.

This wasn’t her place, of course. It was his. A gift. One of many. He said it suited her, that someone as beautiful as Y/N deserved to live above the world, surrounded by elegance.

The buzz of her phone on the marble counter broke the silence, the sound sharp against the stillness of the room. Y/N reached for it without hesitation, her fingers brushing the cool surface as she answered.

“I’ll be there soon, baby,” Y/N said, her tone smooth and laced with a practiced warmth.

The voice on the other end was deep and steady, carrying an undeniable weight despite the softness of his words. There was no urgency, no impatience—only quiet authority.

“Good,” he replied simply. His words were few, but they carried the kind of gravity that left no room for argument. There was a brief pause, then, “Be careful.”

The line clicked off, leaving Y/N staring at the darkened screen for a moment longer than necessary. His concern was always subtle, wrapped in a calm, almost solemn demeanor that contrasted sharply with the larger-than-life image the world knew him by.

To them, he was a symbol of hope and strength, always smiling, always reassuring. But behind closed doors, with Y/N, he was quieter. Reserved. Almost too intense in the way his gaze lingered, as if committing every detail to memory.

Y/N placed the phone back on the counter and stood, smoothing the fabric of her dress as she glanced at the city lights sprawling beneath the penthouse windows. He had insisted on this place, saying it was only right for her to be somewhere safe, somewhere worthy of her.

It was hard to argue with him. His optimism was persuasive, almost magnetic, but there was something else beneath it—something darker. Y/N had seen it in the way his expression would shift when he thought she wasn’t looking. The way his shoulders would stiffen when someone got too close to her, his blue eyes narrowing just slightly, just enough to notice if you were paying attention.

Y/N slipped on her heels and grabbed her clutch, her steps echoing softly in the spacious apartment. Tonight would be like all the others. Y/N would meet him, smile, and play the role he expected.

But even now, as the elevator doors closed around her, she couldn’t shake the weight of his presence—how it lingered even when he wasn’t there, wrapping around her like the invisible strings of a carefully woven net. ｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:

The restaurant was as extravagant as always, its grandeur fitting for someone of his stature but entirely too much for Y/N. The chandelier above sparkled like scattered stars, and the low hum of murmured conversations filled the space. Y/N spotted him almost immediately, sitting at the far side of the room, his broad frame difficult to miss even when he hunched slightly in his seat.

“Toshi,” Y/N called softly, gliding toward him with the practiced elegance he adored.

At the sound of her voice, he looked up, his blue eyes softening as soon as they met hers. There was that quiet, reserved smile of his—not the wide, grand grin the public knew him for, but something smaller, more personal. Something just for her.

Y/N leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek, the warmth of his skin lingering against her lips for a moment longer than necessary. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” she said, sliding into the seat across from him.

“You’re here now,” he replied, his tone steady, almost soothing. It was the kind of voice that felt like it could bear the weight of the world. And maybe it had.

Without another word, he gestured for her to follow him. He didn’t like to stay in the main dining area—too many eyes, too much risk of being noticed. She trailed after him, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor as they made their way to a private room in the back.

The door closed with a soft click behind them, sealing them off from the rest of the world. The room was smaller, quieter, with a single table draped in pristine white cloth. He pulled out her chair for her, a gentleman through and through, before taking his own seat.

“Order whatever you want,” he said simply, sliding the menu toward her.

Y/N gave him a soft smile, knowing the routine by now. She glanced over the menu, pretending to deliberate, though it didn’t matter what she chose. The food was never the focus of these evenings.

As the waiter left with their orders, the air in the room shifted. Toshi leaned back in his chair, his posture loose but his expression heavier. This was why they were here. This was why she was here.

“It’s been… a lot lately,” he began, his voice low, almost hesitant. He rested an elbow on the table, his hand brushing through his blond hair, now slightly disheveled from the day. “The agency’s been pushing for more appearances. More patrols. They say it’s good for morale, but it feels… hollow.”

Y/N nodded, her expression warm and understanding, the way he needed it to be. This was her role—to listen, to absorb the weight of his world so he could feel lighter, even for a little while.

“I’ve taken on a new student,” he continued, his tone softening as a faint smile tugged at his lips. “He reminds me of… well, myself, I suppose. Back when I believed I could fix everything if I just worked hard enough.”

He chuckled lightly, but there was an edge of sadness to it. Y/N reached across the table, her hand resting lightly on his. “He’s lucky to have you, Toshi,” she said gently.

His gaze lifted to hers, and for a moment, there was something raw in his expression. Vulnerability. Trust. The kind of openness he wouldn’t dare show to anyone else.

“You say that, but sometimes… I wonder if I’m doing enough. If it’s even possible to do enough.” His hand turned slightly, his fingers brushing against hers in a fleeting gesture of connection. “But then I think about what it means to keep going. To keep trying, even when it feels pointless.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a soft smile, the kind that told him she understood. She always understood. It was her job to be whatever he needed—a confidant, a distraction, a safe harbor in the storm.

As he continued to speak, his words spilling out like a dam had broken, Y/N leaned in, her gaze steady, her presence unwavering. She didn’t interrupt, didn’t rush him. She simply listened, her role in his life as clear as ever.

To the world, he was a symbol. But here, with her, he could be a man. Broken, weary, and desperately searching for solace in the one place he trusted to give it to him. ｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:

After dinner, they returned to Yagi’s penthouse—a sanctuary far from the eyes of the public, where the weight of his hero persona could melt away into the shadows of the night. The room was dimly lit, the warm glow of the city below casting a soft light across the minimalist decor. There was a quiet sense of intimacy here, the kind that only came when the world outside was shut out.

Y/N followed him in, her heels barely making a sound against the polished floor. Her gaze was steady as always, warm yet knowing. Yagi didn’t need to say anything—she knew exactly what he needed.

“Stay close,” he murmured, his voice quieter than usual, like he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to share this space with anyone, even her.

Y/N nodded, slipping out of her coat and hanging it over the chair, moving gracefully across the room. The distance between them felt charged with an unspoken tension. The kind of tension that had built up over countless nights like this one. They were so close, but never fully touching, never fully there.

She moved to him slowly, her steps deliberate. Her fingers brushed the collar of his shirt, sliding down to the top button, her movements languid, almost teasing. Yagi’s gaze didn’t leave her for a second, his eyes dark but still calm. His control was palpable, but there was a flicker in them—something that told her he wanted this. Wanted her.

“Toshi,” Y/N whispered, using the nickname only she dared to call him. The intimacy in the word felt like a secret between them.

He didn’t respond right away. His hand twitched at his side, a sign of the internal battle waging inside him. But he didn’t stop her.

With delicate fingers, Y/N undid the last of his buttons, revealing the broad chest beneath his shirt. His body tensed under her touch, but his eyes softened, his breath steadying. There was no rush, no urgency. Just the quiet, lingering pull of desire.

Yagi stood still as she stepped closer, her body brushing against his. The sensation of her skin against his, the way she fit so perfectly in his arms—it was like she belonged there, like they were meant to be in this moment.

His hands moved to her waist, pulling her in, his lips meeting hers in a slow, deliberate kiss. The kiss was deep, unhurried, as though he were savoring each second. His hands wandered over her back, tracing the lines of her body like he was memorizing it.

Y/N’s hands slid up to his neck, tugging him closer as she deepened the kiss. She knew what he needed—what he craved, and she gave it to him in the way only she could. She let him take control, let him feel that illusion of intimacy and connection, as though this moment could be enough for both of them.

Their movements were slow, deliberate, as they undressed each other in the privacy of his penthouse. There were no words—just the sound of their breathing, the soft rustle of fabric, the warmth of skin meeting skin. The silence between them was almost comfortable, and yet it was filled with everything they didn’t say. Everything they wouldn’t say.

When their bodies finally met in that quiet, intimate space, it was an illusion—an escape from the world they both lived in. Yagi’s hands were gentle, almost reverent, as he held her close, but there was an urgency in the way he kissed her, an urgency that spoke of everything they couldn’t have.

Y/N responded in kind, her hands finding their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, urging him to let go, even if just for a moment. She knew what it meant to him. This wasn’t just about the physical—the closeness, the connection, the feeling of belonging was what mattered. But she also knew that once it was over, he would retreat back into himself, back into the life that demanded so much from him.

And she would leave, just as she always did.

The moment passed, their bodies intertwined in the quiet space of his penthouse. Their breaths mingled, slow and steady, but the distance never really went away. They were both still holding on to something—something that kept them tethered to this fragile illusion.

Yagi’s fingers brushed through her hair as he pulled away slightly, his eyes still locked on hers. There was something in his gaze, something unspoken, something he would never say aloud.

Y/N smiled softly, her fingers tracing his jaw, feeling the roughness of his skin under her touch. “I’m not staying tonight,” she whispered, the words slipping out almost like a comfort, a promise of what would come next.

He didn’t answer, just gave a small nod, his expression softening, almost resigned. He didn’t ask her to stay. He never did.

As she stood, slipping back into her clothes, the weight of the night felt heavy in the quiet of the room. Yagi remained where he sat, watching her with that same unreadable expression. It was always the same.

Y/N finished dressing and glanced at him once more before turning toward the door. “I’ll see you soon,” she said, her voice warm, but there was an undercurrent of something else. A reminder of the roles they played, of the space they occupied in each other’s lives, but never fully shared.

With one last look, she stepped out of the penthouse, the door clicking softly behind her. Yagi remained inside, alone again in his quiet world, waiting for her return.

And she would return. Because that was how it worked—this illusion they shared. ｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:

[thewomanwhoreads]

For the life of me I’m trying to stop being so hyper-independent, but I feel like every now and then I get proof as to why I should just keep doing shit myself lol

[bmpmp3]

im kinda bad at talking to people on the internet but i always want to comment on art and music i like by small creators 1) because its nice to know and 2) depending on the website (like youtube) maybe it might help a little with spreading it around. but im still kind of bad at it. so a lot of people get an "awesome!!" from me and lemme tell you - i mean everyone of those "awesome!!"'s. i mean it with all my heart. sometimes a thing is just awesome, so awesome it needs more than one exclamation mark!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[itsalwaysdark]

i like overthink everything now it makes me feel so dumb. i used 2 be able to just talk 2 ppl but nowadays every single thing im like Is that actually going to make them hate me. Yes probably. and then i just dont respond which makes ppl hate me. this is how it is

[skrunksthatwunk]

household enemy to the yyh watchthrough number one is the olympics. it's taken us a week to get two episodes into the gamemaster fight

[tonycries]

Girl, I Do This Often

Synopsis. How does he cope with a séx ban? He doesn’t.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, rough séx, unprotected, stuff with pantíes, gaggíng, bréeding, Nanami is a bit mean, overstím, finger suckíng, really desperate boys, light smackíng (Nanami), bondagé + víbrators (Geto), swearing.

Word count. 5.2k

A/N. Guess what, ya girl just turned 19 yippeeeee.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 4 days

On the first day, Toji’s more amused than anything.

A sex ban? With him? Ridiculous, he predicted a full 24 hours before you come crawling back, just begging to be split-apart on his cock. And he tells you so, too - a little over five times as he kisses your pouty lips, muttering a smug, “You’ll be eating your words soon enough, doll.”

By the third day, he’s beginning to think that okay, maybe you were serious about the ban after all. How cute - real cute. 

He’s left to do nothing but complain pathetically on the phone to a very reluctant Shiu. Who doesn’t have much to say other than cut off Toji’s ramblings about “not having your pretty pussy all day” to groan, “Shut the fuck up and beg for her forgiveness. I’m hanging up.”

Toji can only scoff at the thought. Beg for forgiveness? Him? Toji Fushiguro never begs, he never-

That was until the fourth day. 

With you - bent over the kitchen counter in his t-shirt - and nothing but his t-shirt.

“Please, pretty.” Toji drags his lips down your neck, just loving the way your traitorous hips are grinding back into his. “Said m’sorry, right? Don’t ya miss this?”

And you can only look behind your shoulder at the big arms around your waist, muscled thighs pressed up against yours. Angling your head just right to catch the way his hands snake down to your squirming hips to help you draw slow little circles against the rock-hard erection straining against his pants.

So close. So big.

Big enough that you’re almost thinking of throwing this sec ban out of the window altogether - almost.

But that little smirk of Toji’s is infuriating enough that you’re gasping out a breathless little, “I-I’m still mad at you, y’know? You never let me-” The words die in your throat as Toji pulls his pants down just enough for his aching cock to spring free. So angry and painfully hard, leaking hot precum all over your thighs. 

“No no no- hah. Keep talking.” he grits out, breath hot against your ear. Hips pushing and pulling. “Please- keep talking.”

And fuck you didn’t know what was harder - trying to find your voice, or ripping your eyes away from Toji’s cock long enough that you could. 

“B-because you-” you choke out, watching the way he takes his massive cock in his hands. Staring to pump so slow - so lazy - no rhythm or reason other than getting off so filthily to the sound of your voice. “You never let me take-” He wraps your smaller hands around his dick, so hot and heavy in your palms. “-charge.”

“F-fuck-” Toji lets out a low hiss, head thrown back as you thumb teasingly under his sensitive slit, trying to fuck something delicious out. “Yer killin’ me doll. Killing me.” Whether from your words or from the way you’re sliding him so lewdly between your puffy folds, you didn’t know. 

And Toji didn’t either. Hell, he doesn’t even seem to be breathing as he shifts his toned hips so familiarly. Head filled with only you and your heavenly cunt and you. 

“Toji-” you mewl. “Need you so bad.”

If he was any lesser man, Toji would’ve just bullied himself into your dripping cunt already, fucked you into the counter until there was nothing about any sex ban in your pretty lil’ mind. Instead, he’s panting out an absolutely wrecked, “Please. Then take all the charge you want, pretty.”  Fat head lining up with your sloppy hole. “Next time.”

And oh has it really been that long?

Because Toji’s just barely pushing into your plushy walls, and he already feels like he could cum right then and there. The stretch too sinful. Your walls too tight. So cute how you’re already mumbling his name so deliriously. 

“Awww,” he coos, watching awe-struck at the way you flatten your hands on the counter, fucking yourself back into him in short, shallow little grinds. “The s-sex ban was for ah- nothing, huh?”

You’re pulling him impossibly closer by the hair, catching his lips in such a searing kiss. Drinking in Toji’s guttural grunt as you bite down on his lower lip, “Are ya gonna sh-shut up n’ fuck me or do I need ngh- another sex ban?”

“No, ma’am.” he grins, kissing back so mockingly soft. And you know he’s making fun of you with the way he’s twitching so wildly inside your pussy. Veins dragging against all the right spots as he reels his hips back, back, back - only to slam his cock fully inside. “Guess you’re the one mm- in charge right now, huh?”

Over and over again. Fucking you exactly the way he’s wanted these past four days - and then some. 

Hitting your cervix - but it feels like your fucking lungs. Heavy balls smacking against your ass, so hard that he’s sure it’ll leave some obscene marks for him to point out next time. One hand around your throat, the other keeping your slutty, trembling hips in place while you’re torn between running away and bucking back for more more more-

“Right here.”

It’s all you can do to whirl your head around, eyes glassy and unfocused, whining a broken, “Wh-what?” 

“Right…” Trailing down, featherlight, right where he knew he was wrecking your insides. “Here. S’where I belong.” Pressing hard. “N’ m’gonna make sure you don’t forget it.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - 1 week

A week. One week of being patient with your silly idea to “spice things up”. One week of pretending like he wasn’t excusing himself during important meetings to have his cock in his hands - thinking of nothing but you and that sinful little dress you had on today.

One week was all it took for Nanami to have a bad day at work. And you could tell when he did. 

By the way that front door slammed, unfamiliarly harsh footsteps sounding against the hardwood floors. And all it takes is one look at you laid out so prettily on the couch and Nanami’s mouth drops into a soft oh! 

One hand immediately loosening his tie, the other snaking down to his belt. Ashen, tense, - and you have half the mind to wonder whether he’s even breathing. 

Not even looking at you as he mutters a low, “Panties off. Spread those legs.”

That was a few hours ago. 

Before you knew it, your husband had you splayed out like such a slut for him on the couch - too starved to even think about making it to the bed. Legs on his sculpted shoulders, panties in tatters on the floor because you were taking too fucking long. Cock so angry and sensitive as he bullies into your snug cunt, stuffing you full of his cum.

Again. And again and again like he wanted to fuck any and every thought of that stupid sex ban out of your delirious mind. 

“K-Kento- what-” he pulls you into a bruising kiss. Just a sloppy clash of teeth and spit and hands everywhere. “You’re ngh- different.”

At this, Nanami has the audacity to laugh - laugh. Hips snapping impossibly deeper, “Yeah? N’ who’s fault is hah- that? Who’s fault is it th-that we ended hngh- up like-” Pushing your knees all the way up to your tits, groaning at the mess of cum and slick pooling beneath you. “-this?”

Cock just ramming into you, prominent veins nudging against your gummy walls so agonizingly. The couch creaking in protest as he uses your pretty lil’ cunt exactly the way he’s been fantasizing this past week.

And when all you can do is let out delirious little moans in response, Nanami raises his hand up, up, up. Coming down on your ass, hard. 

Smack!

“Didn’t you know we’d end up here?”

Oh the words hit you harder than that large palm-print stinging your ass. Tight pussy clenching and trying to milk the fucking soul out of him as you sob, “I- I didn’t-” Smack! You’re jolting at the impact, hips bucking wildly as you gasp, “-I did! Wanted this so bad, Kento. I did I did-”

And yeah, Nanami knew that. He knew you’d pulled this little “sex ban” stunt to make him break - to have him fuck you like the slut you are. But hearing the words from your pretty mouth had his balls squeezing so painfully. 

“Knew it.” he manages to grit out. “Knew you were such a slut, my love.” Words strained with each harsh thrust, “N’ as my slut, y-you can ngh- take one more, right?” You keen at how soft his tone was, like he was whispering sweet little nothings to you instead of promises to absolutely break you. Fingers trailing down to draw lewd patterns on your throbbing clit, “Right?”

And as if to prove you could, he’s squeezing his swollen cock harder into your plushy walls. Faster. Unforgiving. Fat, leaking tip hitting all those sweet spots he’s mapped out, in time with his abuse on your clit.

“Didn’t hah- have to lock myself in my office for nothing, right?” Pulling your trembling hips flush against his toned ones, “Have to get by with j-just a pretty picture this week for nothing?” Hips out of control now. Bruising. Almost painful with the stretch and the sheer pressure of being so full. “S’all for this, right?”

Smack! 

“Oh God, Kento- Fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

“Yeah? Feels good?” he nips at your lower lip, “Good enough to fuck- take another one?”

You were sure if he came once more then it might just be the death of you.

You’re not even lucid enough to realize what reaction you’re giving him - all you know is that it isn’t good enough for Nanami. 

Because he lets out a tut, hand dancing across your stomach to where he knew he was absolutely making a mess of you inside. 

“Fine.” And something about the way he says it makes your heart stop, already knowing that it didn’t bode well for you or your poor cunt. “Guess I hafta ngh- help you.” Sure enough, Nanami wastes no time before pushing down on your abdomen. 

The both of you watch - awe-struck and speechless - as your overfilled pussy gushes all around him. 

And shit neither of you can even begin to think of what a bitch it’ll be to clean out this couch later on. Too caught up in the way you’re soaking Nanami’s merciless cock in that sinful mix of cum and slick. Thick, and hot, drooling down the side of your puffy folds. 

“See? Enough space, no?”

You raise your eyes, teary and hazy with lust, up to meet Nanami’s darkened ones and oh-

You weren’t going to make it out alive. 

Especially not when he leans down, whispering so raggedly in your ear, “Now I get to give ya another week’s worth more, right?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - 9 days

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-

You didn’t know how it ended up this way. How that stupid bet about who’d be the needier one made Geto the one with the sex ban. 

How he had you tied across from him so prettily on the bed, a bullet vibrator stuffed up your dripping cunt, unable to do anything but whine and watch as he spreads his bare, muscled thighs.

Tip flushed your favorite shade of pink, matching those panties wrapped around his throbbing cock. So angry and leaking all over his fist as one hand slides up, up, up. The other, fiddling with that tiny metal remote. 

“You’re drooling, gorgeous. So desperate, huh?”

You know you aren’t - but you can’t help the way your face burns at your boyfriend’s low chuckle. Thighs squeezing together at the heavenly sight before you. “N-no fair, Sugu.” you whine. “I want to-”

Intensity setting 2.

But whatever words get stuck in your throat as Geto draws harsh, quick little circles on the intensity setting, smirking at the way you’re so wrecked already. 

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-

“I-I want to-” he mocks your pathetic little whines, acting for all the life of him that they didn’t make his dick twitch so wildly in his hands. “My poor baby. S’not nice, right?” And if you were embarrassed before then it was absolutely nothing in comparison to when Geto knits his brows in mock concern, eyes locked on yours. Hand still moving down his cock, “But isn’t this what you wanted? With the sex ban? Isn’t this-” Hips bucking up to show off how sloppily he’s fucking his fist - and your panties along with it, “-what you were asking for?”

“No.” you’re tugging at the ties at your wrist, “I wanted…”

Intensity setting 3. 

But oh it’s like Geto was well and fully intent on leaving you speechless - and succeeding at it too. 

Because he immediately brings up your panties - flimsy and just so soaked - up to his face, breathing in so filthily. And as if he couldn’t help himself - as if he didn’t want to help himself - the remote falls out of Geto’s hand, “accidentally” locked on the highest setting, first wrapping around his cock to make a mess of himself. 

“F-fuck-” he cracks one eye open, balls squeezing so painfully at the way you were almost in tears trying to get some semblance of friction. “Heh, looks like I’m winning the bet.”

You scoff, but it comes out so pathetically like a whine. “You’re a cheater, I’d have w-won this bet otherwise.”

Ah, how Geto loved your smart mouth - though, he probably loved it even more when you’re fucked dumb. But, right now, bet at the forefront of his mind, the next best thing he could do is shove those sinful panties into your mouth. 

Hand flying up and down his cock faster and faster as you choke like such a slut on it. Greedily eyeing the way your lip wobbles, big fat tears welling up in your eyes, cunt all glistening and quivering as Geto blindly reaches behind to grab ahold of that remote again. 

Intensity setting 4. 

“And you’re too cute.” he drops his head, breath ghosting your lips. “So if you ask me nicely I might just-” Thumb playing around with the intensity, pressing down, hard. As if it would translate to your needy cunt, “-give you my cock, gorgeous.”

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-

It’s all you can do to keen as his fingers get faster on the remote, other hand getting so sloppy on his painfully hard cock. Matching that sinful little ah! ah! ah! leaving your swollen lips. Sinful - and stubborn, still refusing to say those words that you knew Geto wanted to hear so badly. 

“Awww, still not giving up?” At your delirious little headshake, “Then how about this?” 

Intensity setting 5. 

And shit it makes you arch off the bed entirely. It makes you let out a strangled yelp of, “Oh- fuck. Fuck fuck fuck Sugu, m’gonna-” It makes you cum.

“Tha’s it.” Geto can’t help but let go of his aching cock to draw rough, messy little circles on your clit. Grinning at the way you’re so pretty when you cum untouched - all for him. Over and over and- He reaches over to catch your lips with his, tongue dancing with yours, around your soaked panties. 

So filthy and dizzying that he almost forgets about that bet - almost. Because you’re murmuring something so incoherent into his lips. 

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-

God, doesn’t matter who wins next time - he needs to fucking do this again.

“What’s that?” he leans in tauntingly, pulling the fabric out of your mouth, finger still running circles around the intensity. Absolutely addicted to the way you’re twitching and whining at the aftershocks of your orgasm, “M’sorry, gorgeous, this vibrator is too loud. Speak up f’me, hm?”

“P-please fuck me, Sugu.”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 21 hours

If Choso had it his way, then you’d both still be at home and he’d be balls-deep inside your sloppy pussy - fucking you over and over into the mattress until the neighbours file another noise complaint. 

But, alas, Jin Itadori was sure to hire a hitman - or worse, Sukuna - on him if he missed another family dinner. Which is how it ended up with you, sat so prettily across the table from him, watching through his long lashes at the way that red dress hugged you so sinfully. 

So right, in a way that made Choso almost jealous. So irresistibly, in a way that had Sukuna looking over a few too many times and-

Choso’s chair almost hits the floor with how fast he stands.

Fuck it.

“Sh-shit, Choso I-” 

“Keep ah- that dress up, baby. Unless ya wanna get it d-dirty.” he’s panting into your open mouth,  tongue so hotly toying with yours as he gives you another harsh thrust. “Though, I don’t ngh- mind.”

And he was telling the truth, too. Choso was in no way gentle with the way he had you sat on the bathroom counter, flimsy dress bunched up at your hips. Strong arms spreading your legs so shamefully while he bullied his cock into you with reckless abandon.

Over and over and-

“Cho!” you yelp, as he hits that one spot so expertly. Flashing you a fucked-out grin as how you’re scrambling to cover your mouth. “Th-they’ll hear.”

“So?”

And it’s all you can do to stop your jaw from falling slack once more - both in disbelief and at the way he’s fucking you so mean. So desperately like he hasn’t in months - years, even. Just unfocused, sloppy movements to milk his cock on your snug cunt.

“I don’t mind hah- that either.” Hand dipping underneath your soaked panties - just lazily pulled to the side - to roll your swollen clit between two fingers. “W-what I do mind is my oh- fuck girl holdin’ out on me and wearing that fucking dress on the s-same day.”

Oh you knew you were pushing the limits of your sex ban by wearing his favorite dress, that it would drive him absolutely wild. You just didn’t know it would be this easy.

“But you promised.” you’re letting out such broken little whines, muffled through your fingers, ones that go straight to Choso’s achingly hard cock. “You hngh- promised we wouldn’t at your family’s…”

The only response you get is Choso rolling his hips deeper into yours, so bruising in a way you knew would make you feel so guilty even when all the marks are covered up. Leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck in time with the way he alternates between hitting your poor, abused cervix and that one spot. 

Gasping out a ragged, “I know- I know I know fuck- Hah- I know.” Words strained - like he was losing a bit of his sanity with each thrust. And needed you to be the same. “But shit, baby. Do you know how p-pretty you look right now? Hngh- how fuckable?”

“Y-you’re so fuckin’ dirty.” you mewl, as if you were any better. As if your gummy walls weren’t sucking the fuckin soul out of Choso right now. “Should’ve made the ngh- sex ban even long-”

He bites down at the soft crook of your neck, growling out a little, “Don’t even joke about that.” 

And if Choso expected a response, then he didn’t act that way. 

Hips just erratic against yours, fingers even worse. Not even moving in circles anymore, just messy, sloppy patterns to-

No. 

You gasp at the realization, the deft movements of Choso’s fingers, and it just makes you all the more fucked-out underneath him. Scrambling to grab at the counter - Choso’s hair - his shoulders - just anything and everything to stop yourself from alerting the entire household to what you two were up to. Letting him fuck you like his favorite sextoy, fingers so so messy and spelling out a relentless little C-H-O-S-O-C-H-O-S-

And then you’re cumming and cumming so hard that it almost hurts. Stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your eyes. Choso’s massive cock fucking any and every thought of the dinner just downstairs out of your mind. 

“F-fuck fuck fuck- ngh- we’re never coming back here for dinner again.”

And it’s all you can do to drag your nails down his broad back, leaving deep red marks that make his balls squeeze so painfully. 

It makes him throw his head back, gasping out your name so loud. It makes him pull your hips so bruisingly against his. 

It makes him cum, spilling thick, hot ropes of cum into your pussy. So messy with the way it’s too much to bear, dribbling down your swollen folds, forming a lewd little pool below you. And Choso doesn’t give a fuck - doesn’t care if he leaves marks that everyone will see. Or if that slutty dress of yours has a suspicious little damp patch as he swiftly pulls out to snap your panties back in place. 

Whispering lowly against your lips, “K-keep it in till we leave, hm?”

“Cho-”

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“The fuck? You brats fall in or something?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 2 days

The great Ryomen Sukuna has always been terrifying - but never before has he been this ruthless. So utterly savage. Destroying every single curse he comes across in the blink of an eye - friend or foe, big or small. 

Why? All because he hasn’t been able to fuck your pretty lil’ cunt in two days. Which, in his opinion, are two days too long. All because of some stupid little experiment about wanting to see how long it would take to see the king of curses crack.

And when those trembling curses heard about this ah- sex ban through the grapevine, well, they wrote it off as another baseless rumor. Ha, Ryomen Sukuna cracking? Never. 

“Please…brat.” he bites down on your earlobe, further pushing up your expensive robes - ones he’d bought just to get on your good side - to sink his cock deeper inside your heavenly cunt. “There I said it. Now jus’ a bit more-”

And maybe you’re a mastermind - maybe you’re an idiot. Because you’re digging your heels into the mattress, pushing off ever-so-slightly from his aching hard cock. So thick and angry as it slips out of your sloppy hole. 

You bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently up at a pissed off Sukuna, “I didn’t like your tone.” Crossing your legs to cover that view he was so fixated on, “Either you beg n’ start all over again or-”

“Fine.” he grits out the word, like it physically hurt to. Though, nothing for what falls from his lips next, “Please.”

“Louder.”

“Please.”

There you had it. And you can’t help but smirk, “Well, I liked that one-”

Nothing more is said - in Sukuna’s eyes, nothing more has to be said. Because he’s got his favorite lil’ human all needy and spread so shamefully in front of him, what more could he want? Sukuna grabs your ankles, pulling you to him like a ragdoll. Wasting no time before he’s splitting you apart on his rock-hard cock.

“Ya don’t hah- know how many curses I killed these past two days.” he kisses your ankles so softly. “How many I wanted to kill.”

And God, if you didn’t know any better you’d say it’s like he wanted to kill you with the way Sukuna barely even gives you time to adjust. Stuffing you full of his cock, so hot and thumping against your gummy walls in a maddening little bump! bump! bump! 

Letting out a strangled moan of, “There you go.” Brows scrunching together, looking wrecked already as he rocks his hips into yours - fast. Hard. hands coming up underneath your ass to arch you deeper into him, “Squeezin’ me so- tight. Heh, almost ”

“Oh hngh- ‘Kuna!” you moan, eyes snapping down to the way your cunt was taking him up so good. Puffy folds bulging around his massive cock, looking like they were sucking the fucking soul out of Sukuna as his massive cock disappears in and out in and out in and- “S’too- much-”

“Shut up.” he drops his head, one hand so bruising all over your body - groping your ass, your tits, playing with your throbbing clit. “Ya wanted hah- me to talk, right? And I say-” The other, squeezing your cheeks together into a pathetic lil’ pout, “Open up.”

It’s so embarrassing the way you can’t do anything but let your mouth fall open so sluttily, tongue lolling out just in time to catch the stream of saliva as Sukuna spits once. Twice. 

So filthy with the way he lets it splatter against the corner of your mouth - on purpose. 

“Wanted the king to beg, huh?” Each word is punctuated by such a harsh thrust, twitching balls stinging against your ass. “Well you got it. H-how does it feel, huh?”

And you couldn’t speak up even if you wanted to. Sukuna’s hand too tight around your face, cock too merciless. Slamming his hips down faster and faster as he runs his mouth, like he was taking revenge for the last two days. Again. And again. And again and again-

Grinning at your delirious little gurgles, “Heh, what? Can’t talk?” 

And as if to prove his point, Sukuna loops two big arms around your waist, falling back on his knees with you sat like such a slut on his cock. Fingers lacing above your head to sink you impossibly deeper and deeper-

“Oh my god- K-” Your breath hitches as he fucks up into you so easily. Feeling more and more like some plaything with each ripple of his muscles underneath your legs. So hard you were sure it would leave marks - both confirming and condemning those rumors you knew have been flying around. His balls on your ass, thighs underneath yours, nails dragging lightly down your skin. 

Resting on your waist, holding your quivering hips still as he grunts, “Now shut up. M’gonna get my fill of the last two days.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - 4 hours

To the great Gojo Satoru, this droning, 4-hour meeting with the elders was a nightmare. To you, it was exactly where you wanted him

It wasn’t often that the strongest was tense - jittery, even, like he was about to jump out of his seat at any given moment. But, really, it was almost impossible not to, considering that stern talking-to you’d given him about “no sneaking out during meetings.” Especially when you’re sat across from him looking so beautifully unbothered.

Your smile too pretty, your uniform unbuttoned just enough that it gave him such a heavenly view when you bent over just so.  

Oh, how Gojo wishes he could just-

And that was when he felt it. 

That slow, slight touch up his inner thigh - so fleeting and light that he almost thinks he’s imagining it. But, no, Gojo could never mistake any touch from you. 

It sends his entire skin burning to catch your eye ever-so-briefly from across the table. A tiny smirk gracing those pretty lips as your heel inches up, up, up-

“Gojo, do you have anything to comment on the recent increase in curse sightings?”

He stifles a groan underneath one palm, the other snaking under the table just in time to catch your ankle before you can carefully slip away. “I think…” he manages to grit out, heady gaze flitting over to yours, “-that is a question my lovely wife and I must discuss first.”

Oh? 

And then, your back is hitting a plush mattress before you know it - long before the realization hits you that this bastard just fucking teleported the two of you to your bedroom. 

“T-Toru-” you sputter out, whatever reprimand getting stuck in your throat at how desperate Gojo was acting. Your uniform buttons hitting the floor as he rips open your shirt, hands bunching up your skirt, only having enough patience to just pull aside your soaked panties, rolling your pretty clit between two fingers. Needy. “The meeting-”

“The meeting isn’t here now, right?” 

Words so hoarse it takes you a moment to recognize it as your husband’s. You were only beginning to wonder just what the fuck you’ve gotten yourself into when Gojo tugs down his pants just enough that his rock-hard cock springs free.

And oh then it makes sense. Because Gojo was so hard that it looked painful - so so red, and angry. Soaked in enough precum that it made a damp little patch on his trousers, heavy balls twitching at the mere sound of your voice.

“D-didn’t I say no sneaking out this time, Toru?” You buck into his touch, despite your words, eyes locked on the way Gojo stops toying with your clit to pool your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips.

“You did.” Raising his long, glossy fingers to those pretty pink lips, “But this is teleporting, not sneaking out, sweetheart.”

Gojo’s like a man possessed as he pops your slick-covered fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sinful taste. 

Gasping out a wet, “Fuck the ban. Can’t go without ya. Can’t-” One hand sliding his fat tip between your swollen folds, up and down up and down - spreading them apart, just barely dipping into your sloppy entrance. “-can’t live without this pretty cunt.”

And then it’s like something snaps - Gojo’s patience, his sanity, the last of his restraint as he sinks his throbbing cock into your plushy walls. 

Pushing past that first, tight ring of muscle, and at the first feeling of your gummy walls milking his cock, he pants out a strained, “Fuck- oh fuck fuck fuck, yer the stuff of dreams, my girl. This cunt- ngh-” Pushing your legs further apart, fingers back on your clit “-would’ve fucked this cunt right in ah- front of those old toads. But, you’re lucky I’m a jealous man.”

“Oh- oh my god, s’too- too- big!”

God, you needed to spread your legs more - as if they weren’t being folded apart so easily by a delirious Gojo - maybe breathe, try to relax because Gojo was so big. And so unforgiving. 

Feeling like he was pushing all the way into your lungs as he thrusts in quick, shallow little thrusts to bully himself inside your snug cunt. Jagged - like he was fighting with some absolutely, depraved, feral part of himself. 

You can feel the way your hips are torn between pushing away and grinding back down for more more more- And Gojo can, too.

“No-” he hisses. Brows scrunching in frustration, hips becoming more and more sloppy - frenzied. “No no no no no- hold on, sweetheart. Need this, need this so bad.”

Going faster. 

Deeper. 

You sob, ankles locking around his slutty waist. “B-but Toru-” You make a feeble last attempt at regaining your sanity. Your entire body jolting as Gojo presses so hard on your clit. “-we should ngh- hurry up. W-we’ll be late to the meeting-”

But does it really matter? Gojo doesn’t think so, not when he finally bottoms out in one, rough thrust. Groaning as his sensitive balls smack your ass.

Your cunt so slutty and tight - sucking him up so good despite your cute lil’ pleas about something stupid like “responsibilities”. 

So he really can’t help the way he wastes no time before reeling his hips back - all the way till his weeping tip is just kissing your sloppy hole. Before fucking into you completely - rough. Unrestrained. The same way he imagined taking you on that meeting room table. Over and over and-

“Not yet.” he grins against your lips, “We’re not done discussing the recent increase in curse sightings.”

A/N. Gojo’s came out toooo long I don’t even like this man fr (loud incorrect buzzer).

Plagiarism not authorized.

[nkogneatho]

— 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖, 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐍

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

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

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

introduction to the universe:

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

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

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

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

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

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

“I am over-lactating.”

“What happened to the breast cups?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Lwove it.”

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

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

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

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

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

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

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

“Then he had the audacity to—”

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?”

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

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

“L/N-san, this isn't right—”

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

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

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

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

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

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Mobster

Chicago - 1931 The Height of Prohibition The mafia is earning top dollar smuggling alcohol into the country. And one mobster has his eye on you.

Yandere! Mobster who's a made man, who drives a nice car even after the stock market crash forced most people to sell theirs.

Yandere! Mobster who wears a tailored suit and fedora, his black hair swept back. Who everyone in the neighbourhood says is a good guy, a decent man, even if he does work for the don.

Yandere! Mobster who pulls up next to you when you're walking home from work. It's late and clouds are scudding across the moon.

Yandere! Mobster who leans out his window and offers to drive you home. Who says these streets ain't safe for a pretty girl like you.

Yandere! Mobster who's known you since you were children. Two kids from immigrant families, playing together in the tiny bits of open space your apartments could offer.

Yandere! Mobster who keeps looking at you and marvelling at how grown up you both are. Where did that scruffy little girl go? And when did you get so pretty?

Yandere! Mobster who spends the whole drive chatting about old times. Who makes you laugh at his stories about running from the landlady and stashing his school books behind the canteen.

Yandere! Mobster who leans over you and pulls the door closed when you move to get out. Who looks you dead in the eye when he asks if you're having trouble with your rent.

The mob is a big part of the community afterall, and he knows just about everything.

You drop your eyes, embarrassed. Your brothers have their own families to care for, you say. Things are hard but if you pick up a few more shifts at the factory, you might manage it.

Yandere! Mobster who sighs and digs in his suit pocket. Who pulls out a stack of cash and counts it right in front you.

Yandere! Mobster who offers you enough for two months of rent. A small fortune to someone from your part of town.

You shake your head, horrified. You can't afford the interest, you tell him.

Yandere! Mobster who scoffs and asks if you really think he's offering a loan when you've known each other for years? It's a gift, to keep your mama out of the cold.

Yandere! Mobster who smiles at the hesitant way you accept the money. You're too proud to ever ask for help and he knows it. Just like when you were kids.

Yandere! Mobster who gets out and opens the car door for you like a gentleman, even if he knows the whole apartment building will talk about it.

Yandere! Mobster who grins that charming, good guy smile even though he has a gun holstered under his jacket and a shovel in the trunk. Who says he'll consider things even if you cook him dinner some time.

Yandere! Mobster who visits your ma while you're at work. Who tells her he's interested in you and wants her blessing. And your ma is all too happy to give it. He's such a good boy, she says, and she knows he's always had a soft spot for you.

Yandere! Mobster who insists on driving you home after work everyday. Even when you blush and complain that he's going out of his way.

Yandere! Mobster who gratefully accepts the gifts you offer him. Fresh baked bread, jars of your mama's famous marinara sauce, homecooked meals... Who eats so much better when you take care of him.

Yandere! Mobster who eventually runs out of luck and straight into trouble. What was supposed to be a routine whiskey delivery turns out to be a sting operation.

Yandere! Mobster who sees his partner get a hole blasted right through him and almost die. Who fires at the cops until his tommy gun is red hot and smoking. Who ends up with so much blood on his hands he ain't sure it will ever wash off.

Yandere! Mobster who finds himself at your door afterwards, his coat drenched by the rain.

Yandere! Mobster who doesn't resist when you pull him inside and strip away his jacket and shirt. There's blood on your hands after you hang up his coat, and you pretend not to notice it.

Yandere! Mobster who can see your curiosity fighting against your sense. In the end, you don't ask him a single question about it.

Yandere! Mobster who sinks gratefully into the bath you draw for him. And who falls asleep the second his head hits your pillow.

Yandere! Mobster who's gone by morning. His bloodstained coat gone with him.

Yandere! Mobster who asks around about you and finds out you've got a whole score of fellas vying for your hand.

Yandere! Mobster who let's it be known that he's interested in you and watches with satisfaction as all your potential suitors drop away.

Except for one. He just spits and says you're a grown woman and can choose your own man.

Yandere! Mobster and his buddies pick the guy up after a late shift. Tie his hands behind his back and gag him before they toss him in the trunk.

Yandere! Mobster who beats the shit out of him. Who breaks his nose with a knuckle duster and his ribs with a crowbar. Who grabs his hair with bloody fingers and hisses that you're off limits.

Yandere! Mobster whose buddies lounge against the warehouse wall and smoke, never bothering to question what a simple dock worker did to deserve such a brutal beating.

Yandere! Mobster who sniffs your hair when you hug him. He's like a dog - always making sure other men haven't left their scent on you.

Yandere! Mobster who let's his hands wander when he takes you out dancing. Who kisses you goodnight and let's his lips brush your neck before he pulls away.

Yandere! Mobster who goes home and jerks off to you, his teeth bared and head bent forward. Who snarls at you to take it, take it like a good girl.

Yandere! Mobster who tells his don about you - how pretty you are, how clever, how discreet. The man leans back in his chair and pulls on his cigar.

She'll never make a liar of you. You should marry her just for that.

Yandere! Mobster who shows up at your door a week later, an engagement ring burning a hole in his pocket.

Be my girl. And I promise I'll take care of you.

You think about the night he came to you covered in blood and not speaking a word. You think about your friend from the docks and the way he dissappeared. You think about the way people look away when you're with him in public.

You say yes, as though you have a choice.