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yuyinesque · 8 days

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WOMANEATER | “𝗒-𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝗁-𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖼𝗒…”

⚘ précis. ≡ you're a therapist in a psyche ward, and your new patient isn't one you're particularly experienced with.

⚘ disclaimers. ≡ yandere!incel & psyche ward!therapist y/n, afab!reader (no fem-aligned prns used), physical violence, compulsive masturbation, hypersexuality, misogyny & women-blaming, usage of “bitch”, mentions of post-traumatic stress disorder (ptsd); obsessive behavior; delusion (secondary erotomania); age regressing; & urine, manipulation (guilt-tripping & gaslighting), mentions of suicide & self harm, implied rape fantasies & perversion.

⚘ category. ≡ nsft headcanons.

⚘ wc. ≡ 781.

𖦥 m.list. oc.list

🧷 yandere!incel who is a scrub-wearing individual who wears stoic expressions like they’re permanent masks, though at times the said mask tends to falter vastly when he’s around any woman; even fem-presenting figures drives him an inch deeper towards insanity. he’s picked numerous fights with women and only women, even when they’ve done nothing but walked past him. the fights were always prompted by truculence and defense, as for he would disclose evident signs that he was terrified of said woman, completely convinced that they were after him in some sort of ill manner, so he strikes before they even get the chance to blink. because of this, he’s been isolated away from female figures, and only male characters were capable of catering to him, as he was indifferent towards them. well, every male but you, a female.

🧷 yandere!incel who is quite the handful for inexperienced, psyche ward!therapist darling, as for they haven’t dealt with a patient with such a high caliber of disorders; their worst case so far was a suicidal woman who was diagnosed with type one bipolar. one session with the individual was enough to question your overall abilities. i mean, he despised you. at least that’s what you believed.

🧷 yandere!incel who is tired of you cheating on him with other patients! this is why he’s so angry towards you specifically, but he won’t say. however, he’s also completely infatuated with you; have i also mentioned completely horrified with you? you’ve noticed each time you would change your tone slightly, he would convert into a fretful mouse, apologizing incessantly as tears glossed his dark, beady eyes, also slipping up by referring to you as “mother” in a small, infantile voice. you concluded it was because you reminded him of such, and she was primarily the reason why he feared and hated women so much. motherly abuse.

🧷 yandere!incel who would have his calmer days since he was genuinely interested in his spouse. he’s never had a woman so madly in love with him, so it not only fed his ego, but causes his dick to swell with cum each time you evinced signs that confirmed you were oso desperate for his attention. with the way you sit up when you walk in, reassure him that everything will be fine, or even going out of your way to smile in such a lecherous manner. it angered him, especially when he begins groping his hardened crotch in front of you and complaining about you and your whorish antics. you would ignore him in response or threaten to cut the meeting short, which prompts a loud, slur-screaming, victim-blaming outburst in response.

🧷 “you’re such a bitch, you hear me?! a bitch! and a bitch li-like you shouldn’t even be alive! luring me, t-teasing me—all women are just a bunch of fffffucking sluts!!”

🧷 yandere!incel who also showed signs of hypersexuality and exhibitionism. he was a chronic masturbator, pleasuring himself to the most horrific things with your face in mind. just the thought of keeping you in your place by forcing you to perform taboo acts on the receptionist desk as everyone watched rotted his mind.

🧷 yandere!incel who would try to convince you that he doesn’t hate you only to voice his hatred towards you the next week. then he’d not only do that, but then claim that he’s never done such with tears in his eyes, finding your scoldings utterly unnecessary and so mean. there was even a time where you lost your patience and raised your voice at him, immediately causing him to not only an apologetic rant, but to begin pissing himself in the chair he was trembling and sobbing on, the strong scent of ammonia filling the room during the process.

🧷 yandere!incel who needed your touch or he’ll perform said disgraceful acts. there was a day where he pleaded for just a hug from you if he was good the whole week. once you confirmed it, he did just that. no fights, no arguments, nothing. he even apologized for freezing up and screaming at the poor, feminine soul that walked near him. you knew it was against the rules to be this affectionate towards patients, but you couldn’t break a promise. and so, you did—hugged him. awkwardly, even. he was rather short, so his face was buried within your chest, and the boner pressed against your thigh only made you feel nauseous, but not as nauseous as his next, ominous set of words.

🧷 “y-you better hope these h-hands hold mercy on your.. body once i luh-latch them onto you…”

yuyinesque | translate with permission & peruse without theft

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y-vna · 3 months

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I'm Bleeding, Band-Aids won't heal me 🩸🩹

♡ྀི I Just Need To Take A Bite 🗡️🥀

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yuyinesque · 19 days

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KREIDEPRINZ | “𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗒 𝗈𝖻𝗃𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾.”

⚘ précis. ≡ he was a little curious as to how the female anatomy reacts to arousal; you were the individual that incessantly muddled his mind with this idea. because of this, he managed to charm you into laying you down on his table and taking his fingers in order to conclude a few factors.

⚘ disclaimers. ≡ afab!reader; sub!reader x top!albedo, finger-fucking/excessive clit play, overstimulation, implied pussy worshipping, pussy studying, edging, squirting, gentle praise, albedo’s simply playing dumb with you.

⚘ category. ≡ nsft smut drabble/headcanons.

⚘ wc. ≡ 1.5k.

𖦥 m.list. oc.list.

𖤥 The holder of Princeps Cretaceus, mm mm mm… anywayyy — This little chalk-based AI is a little too curious for his own good. I believe that you had to been not only aesthetically interesting to the eye, but have a mind of wisdom in order to have such an obsessive interest towards you. With this mind, it’s only a matter of time before he uses you as both a subject and a partner for his experiments, with your consent, of course, for you have an adoration towards him as well. (Un)fortunately, this only set you up for failure, for he was beginning to wonder how you would look in various positions.

𖤥 Now, I may not know much about Albedo, but I’m sure that an enabler would provoke these said thoughts. This said “enabler” is no other than you, the individual who is incapable of holding back their feelings for someone who could read you like a book, ESPECIALLY because he’s been studying you since you carry such a mysterious intensity within you.

𖤥 Hell, he may be an AI, but because of this he’s beyond stupid. It’s clear at times that you’ve been experiencing arousal, but he was unsure as to if you were experiencing it because of him specifically. Besides, he didn’t want to outwardly just ask without any context. Not only that’s an intimate question, but he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, let alone scare you off, now suffering from rejection. Still, the idea couldn’t be left undiscovered, I fear… Really, this whole thing is not about him studying it because he was clueless, he not only wanted a confirmation, but ponder about how YOU would behave if aroused … like like like like like listen-

𖤥 “I must take into account factors such as your temperature, texture, and contractions per minute after each orgasm,” He would divulge as his pallid fingers plunged deeper into your clenching hole, one that was greedily memorizing the taste of his skin to the point where it was her favorite dessert. His statements were definitely rhetorical and you knew it, seeing as you were incapable of formulating comprehensible words with the way he was finger-fucking you without any reasonable restraint bounding his actions. He was destined to complete his experiment, and he was sure that you were on your thirteenth- fourteenth clench. “As long as I have your approval, I do not believe that I’m overstepping any boundaries. You do agree, right Y/n?”

𖤥 NAAA LEMME COOK? HEAR ME OUT!!!

🧷 𝓗ad you haven’t been in a predicament where you could formulate appropriate thoughts, let alone speech that didn’t involve loud, lecherous blubbers, you would’ve retorted with an impish smile with corresponding titter, seeing as he was simply being careful despite his monotonous tone. It’s merely impossible to strangle out a few words since you were practically hyperventilating from overstimulation; there was quite literally never been a time where you’ve felt this overwhelmed during an experiment. Albedo is very considerate of your safety.

He claims that this would be safe as well: Sketching down a memorable image of your pretty pussy rapaciously contracting for his fingers, though instead he decided to use his fingers to polish your clit with vast zeal, earning a pearlescent drool of cum to cascade from your hole. He noted that he should add a glimmering adaptation to accentuate how the rushing river of cum titillate under the pale LED light, also the image of your fingertips delving into your plush thighs as you attempted to keep them up for as long as possible. Albedo however sighed in misfortune at this observation, especially at the way your thighs palpitated endlessly; there was only a matter of time until your body were to finally give into exhaustion. You were only human, after all. Therefore, he made sure to assert underneath his sketch of you that the three components were completed.

One: Temperature. How hot could it get? Normally the temperature inside the vaginal canal equates to a high fever when not aroused, but how hot does yours get during both stages? Unfortunately, Albedo was unable to determine the temperature during its natural stage, for you were already unbearably drenched before he could even give your pussy the time of day, tainting the steel table with the voracious drooling since she terribly craved him inside of her. He also concluded that utilizing a thermometer during the session would possibly bring down your mood (or heighten it, considering that he also noticed that you’re very fond of edging as much as overstimulation). He wondered if he should ask to take its temperature after he cleans everything up, but it wouldn’t correlate with his initial hypothesis.

Two: Texture. Generally speaking, the inside has an identical texture to the inside of your cheeks but… he still wanted to finalize that it stays that said texture before, during, and after sexual activity. Albedo certainly has definitely used his tongue to poke at the inside of his cheek while curling his fingers deep inside of you, carefully massaging your spot as your squeals sang saccharine tunes, whispering poetic praises that caused your noises to induce and circulate throughout the vast vicinity. As anticipated, the resemblance is there, but your walls were softer, but that could be because of how inundated you are. It was another uncompleted draft that he had to address on another occasion; it was beginning to miff him, though at least you were willing to trust him in one of your most vulnerable states.

Three: Contractions. Would it be too selfish for him to wonder how many times you’ll clench before each orgasm? Surely it was quite the push, but he couldn’t help but wonder if that’ll be the last time the two of you would perform something so intimate, therefore it’s best to have most if not all of his questions answered before departure. Not only has he determined how many times you’ve clenched before each orgasm, also determining that the number accumulates the more you cum, he’s estimated that you’ve contracted much more without his fingers rather than with them. Was it due to your acts of desperation? Yes, of course, that he figured as much, and he found the ideal flattering and promising, or even exciting. He could proudly deem that you were one of his favorite experiments yet, and truly desired more of you in different positions in later references.

And Ideally, Four: En–

“‘Bedo, Beh- ff-uh.. fuckfuckfuckfuck- please!” His train of calculations and concentration was vengefully disrupted by the guinea pig in question: you. The one who sobbed out hardly comprehensible beseeches in hopes Albedo has finally calculated enough data to grant you the opportunity to fucking breathe without hiccuping and choking on saliva. The one whose cum spluttered erotically out of their pussy, their juices acting as a varnish on your tumescent lips in order to preserve such finest chef-d'œuvre, and giving the steel table a shrine that’s never been achieved before. The one whose left leg was occasionally being pried away from their right by the alchemist’s gloved hand, seeing as he couldn’t help but feel selfishly miffed at the fact that they’re incapable of keeping them open for the sake of the hypothesis. However, it’s safe for the two of you that this experiment will require addressment… over a few shots, of course.

“What perfection…” Albedo’s cerulean blooming eyes eased with awe as he watched your writhing body twitch and writhe with each time he thrust his fingers inside you, but even when he decided to slow down a little, you were still too sensitive to inure the overbearing pleasure, therefore he decided to stop altogether by finally retracting his pallid fingers that were submerged with a thick ivory. For a moment he had the intrusive urge to give you a taste, but he already broke one of his promises, which was to go easy on you. “The moons surely favor you, don’t they?”

Your mind was too muddled to even comprehend the fact that he was praising you at the moment; you were still trying to find a way to close your legs without any more exertion, let alone rid the seething pain between them. Surely you weren’t complaining, but you were just as shocked as him. Rarely does he lose himself, especially during something of importance. “Perhaps I was being too edacious… it was never my objective to test your endurance … This was my mistake.”

With a sigh that could only disclose disappointment, he stood up from his chair after using a cloth to wipe his fingers clean. Then, while his expression still mordantly stoic, he gently lifted one of your legs to place them on his shoulder, cautiously wiping you down, squeezing your knee reassuringly when you jolted and whined when he began dapping your numbing clit with the cloth.

“We should conduct this on a later date, I'd say… next week. Certainly after your convalescence.. That way the both of us may conclude how well your body responds to penetration.”

yuyinesque | translate with permission & peruse without theft.

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yuyinesque · 11 days

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hey sexy, give them a taste of indigo.

disclaimers — amab!reader, afab!oc, trans!catboy oc, riding, lipstick staining, desperation, implied praise kink.

Your kitty prefers “handsome” over “pretty” any damn day, that’s for sure.

Indigo’s hands smushed your cheeks together before as his tongue snuck inside of your mouth yet again, carelessly smudging the carmine-inspired lipstick against your lips. Frantic moans tumbled against the surface of your slob-coated lips as he failed to proceed with the aggressive kiss he initiated beforehand, resulting in him letting out an exasperated moan, his hips gyrating seraphically to subdue an upcoming breakdown. You then, reassuringly, demanded him to quiet down and focus while your cloudy touch journeyed from his waist and down his hips, encouragingly matching the rhythm of them so he could be influenced to dissipate his nerves. Uncharacteristically compliant and reasonable, he nodded drowsily, the subtle presentation of the example of “patience” causing his pussy to clench tightly around you.

“Mmh, n-no.. ffuck you.. Call me handsome again,” Indigo demanded after a moment of him stalling by grinding onto your dick rather than bouncing on it accordingly. Although his words, his jumbled, breathless, needy words, held no weight in the position he signed himself for, his expression was pleading and distressed, needing you to compliment him just a few more times before he could advance… even though he had little to no known way of inuring it. Even the way his ears remained pinned harshly against the top of his tousled head signified that he desired it just once more.

“Do it. Call me- uhn, now… ‘M your handsome boy..? Like this? L- Hah- A-Again..” He was on the brink of folding completely if he hadn’t already with that flush face, those subtle purrs, and a tight grasp on the end of his sweater, and that’s without implying the continuation of the hip circling, evidently trying to charm you into falling into his desires.

Yeah, he enjoys it quite a bit.

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yuyinesque · 16 days

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NEKOMA'S BRAIN | “𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗌, 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗋. 𝗒’𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖿𝖿.. 𝗂 𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗌…”

⚘ précis. ≡ your boyfriend was simply just too lazy to get up and perform his morning routine, and so you decided to do it for him while he’s grumbling in bed, admiring every ounce of your beauty, and blushing over the flirtatious provocations that eludes from those replete lips of yours.

⚘ disclaimers. ≡ black!fem reader x pre-timeskip!kozume kenma, no prns were mentioned, reader possesses island twists, slight swearing, slight suggestive themes, usage of pet names (babe, love, dear, kitty).

⚘ category. ≡ sfw oneshot.

⚘ wc. ≡ 2.4k.

𖦥 m.list. oc.list.

🧷 𝓖entle blues and cockatoos whistled diaphanous warbles to finalize the beat of the pitters on your window, which was caused by the morning shower blooming beneath your sheer beige curtains. The sun’s staggering rays were subdued substantially by Oya’s considerable water, absentmindedly bestowing misfortune upon the ones that surrendered to sleep due to the rain. Thankfully you were quite rejuvenated this morning, as for generally you’d sleep through this kind of weather, or perhaps bask within its merciful amenity with some chamomile honey vanilla tea to accompany you. You were performing much more desired acts, thanks to the obstinacy of your insomniac lover whose truculence may only parrot a child. His infantile mannerisms were only provoked due to the fact that he hasn’t gained enough sleep, and it was either him allowing you to awake him with decency or his loud-mouthed captain (and bestie) to ignite a few more hidden nerves.

As insinuated, this was definitely another one of those domesticated mornings of you readily taking care of your lover, encouraging him with incessant praises and dolly dotings to ensure that his positivity remains durable. He was quite the pessimistic character; quiet yet imbued with terrorizing troubles that manage to whizz through his brain circuits at least thrice an hour. These troubles are temporarily cloaked by the iridescent screens of any device he could get his paws on, however, but that simple action didn’t bode well for the next morning. Leave it to him to lose track of time because of some underground indie game he impulsively bought merely because his favorite YouTuber has played it.

Which leads to these current events — you straddling on a subtly writhing, sloppily clothed male as you struggled to apply the rest of the foaming mask amongst his skin to preserve his epidermis. The male in question currently has his entrusted switch a few centimeters away from his nose, which makes it much more difficult for you to journey your latex-gloved fingers up his bridge. You knew he was wasting time so he could be late for school, stalling you so that he could spend longer mornings with you, and purposely picking at you since he found it rather humorous when you’re miffed with his behavior. Overall, he was both too indolent to perform his usual routine and too invested in the idea of allowing you to help him. He wouldn’t admit such vocally, though.

Vindictively, you forced your four fingers, your pointer and middle, past his cheek bones in order to apply the mask onto his nose, earning a protesting grunt in response. “Babe, stop.. mmmgh, can’t see… mm don’t want to…”

Kenma’s subtly raspy yet entirely euphonic, monotonous voice granted your ears the privilege to thrive again once more; not a single cockatoo in the world could mimic his pretty notes. Even when he’s a little pouty and miffed he still manages to objectively outwit any virtuoso. Rightfully so, you ignored his protests as you readjusted the silk-infused, Yoshi-imprinted bonnet, the one he found on Ebay that matches with the Toad-patterned one on your head, so that you could have more access to his forehead. Finally, with a tenderness only a mother could perform, you caressed his darkened under eyes with the product, painting the empurpled lunates with your fingertips, and finalizing it with amorous care that makes his heart undulate with passion.

“Babe, it burns,” Kenma bellyached sardonically, his auric-glazed stare still hyper-fixated on building a level on Mario Maker that you cannot beat, for he’s still rather salty with the way you swimmingly glide across the levels he creates for you. A very, very humbling and aggravating experience; you believed him being tired is another side of him? Try watching him lose a game over some dumb shit. Or lose in anything he’s passionate about. “Ouch, it stings.. my face stings…” He adds as he squints his leonine eyes gently as subtle tears occurred due to sleep-deprivation. You ignored his obvious acts of stoic melodramatics as you got up from his lap, making your way over to your towel steamer as you tightened your cotton-based robe.

“That means it’s working,” You commented in an overly casual manner that didn’t sit right for Kenma in the slightest, resulting in him scrunching up his face instinctively at your ridiculously flawed logic. You held back an upcoming laugh, knowing that your silly message peeved him a bit as you took one of the steamed facial towels from the warmer, pressed it against your inner arm to check the temperature, and made your way back towards Kenma before returning to the position you were in once before. Rarely, you forget how observant your lover is, for he is the kind of individual who will see but won’t say, so his momentary, intrusive gaze felt almost uncharacteristic.

He always had this staring problem before you even got together, and you believed that he was judging you for a while, until he confessed that he simply found your appearance gorgeous during his romantic confessions. These said confessions were two months prior, so you’re quite adjusted to his antics now. A little bit, at least. You couldn’t help but feel just a bit mushy knowing that he stares when he thinks you look good, which makes you internally scream since he stares at you incessantly. The way a few of your island twists poured past your poorly-worn bonnet which emphasized your contemporary beauty, the way your eyebrows knitted in concentration as you waved the steam away from the towel, or the way you sent him warning glowers each time your pretty eyes caught him pouting over mere inconveniences.

Domesticated mornings are the reason as to why he’s convinced that he’s fallen for you, and that he’s an idiot for not confessing any sooner.

He was torn away from his blush-toned fantasy about you once you folded the towel in a triangular shape before carefully placing it onto his skin, immediately earning a defeated sigh afterwards once he acknowledged that his eyes will also have to be covered. Deciding to not give you any more of a hard time, he finally placed his switch on the bed amongst the other skin care items that were sprawled within the sheets before fluttering his eyes shut. The newfound warmth of the towel brought considerable solace to his nerves, and considerable dreariness in addition to his ample sleepiness. Still, Kenma needed this, truly. This was definitely much preferred than ruining his larynx due to morons in some Call of Duty lobby. Hearing “weak-willed whores” or “sorry ass snowflakes” whizz aggressively past such delicate lips was not the sight to behold at four in the morning. For neither of you, and he was the one that said it.

You began massaging one of his tensed, rough palms as the heated moisture penetrated his skin, opening his pores in order to politely permit the product to submerge within them. He’s always enjoyed your touches, whether they were guileless or lecherous, hence he never truly disliked these mornings. Asking for small acts of affection wasn’t really his strongest suit. The most he’ll perform are insinuations, but you would play dumb until he finally admits that he wants to cuddle for the night. His breathing slowed and faltered, almost as if his respiratory system was off duty, and the arrhythmic cracks of his knuckles joined with the symphonic chorus of the rain and birds.

Kenma’s shoulders tensed a bit once your now bare hands meticulously waltzed alongside of the exposure, which was caused by his oversized, midnight-gray sweater. Eventually, his breathing began to deepen quite a bit, and even occasional, accidental, sonorous moans muffled against the cooling interior of the ivory-hued towel. You couldn’t help but chuckle a little at his state, not to mention that his evident act of fighting back any more upcoming, suggestive sounds.

“Don’t get too comfortable now, love,” You taunted him puckishly; he didn’t know if the towel was inducing his flushed visage or your teasing. In actuality, the poor thing merely didn’t want to confront reality.

“Sorry…” Kenma atoned breathlessly as his thinly arched eyebrows scrunched together in concentration, trying his hardest not to make any other humiliating sounds, but frankly, he couldn’t inure your hands. They were infused with anesthetic restoratives that were bound to mitigate his embarrassment with utter relaxation. Not to mention that your fingers were journeying up his neck, teasingly tracing its peachy exterior while watching his Adam’s apple oscillate in apprehension. Subconsciously, he lifted his head a little to grant you more access, which humored you quite a bit, and you couldn’t hold back your upcoming pokes. While scratching underneath his damp chin, toying with his feline features in a subtle sense, you grinned down at him as he placed his hands on your exposed thighs.

“Awwwh, does the kitty want more rubs? Hm?” You were relentless with your words, impish with your tone, and passionate with your touches; how has he not crawled in a hole and just perished yet? Better yet, why do you proceed to call him the ludicrous sobriquet he asked you not to use on numerous occasions? Not only it’s embarrassing, but conflicting, for he actually enjoys it just a little. With a miffed, disapproving grunt, he felt your fingers itch under his chin as if he was a literal cat, which made him shake his face away in delay.

“Mmh.. Could you please stop calling me that? It’s so embarrassing…” Kenma repeated himself yet again, his movement prompting some slippage from his towel, which granted you a better view of his roseating skin. You took the opportunity to boop the tip of his nose, but you didn’t call him the nickname again. For now, at least. In return to your taunts, he gave your left thigh a harsh pinch, earning a harsh jolt in response. He would always use your over-reactivity to elude situations that he couldn’t control; it’s a bad trait for your ticklish behavior. The harsh pinches on your thigh converted into harsh pokes in your sides, which you were reflectively deflecting until he was simply full on tickling you, potentially frustrating and overwhelming you.

“Ah—fuck! Stop tickling—Eeughh—NO!” You exclaimed through sharp, protesting shrieks and forged laughs to correspond; it was all melodious to his ears. You had the upper hand since you were still straddling him, but he used this as the opportunity to sit up with his hands clasped around your waist, his veins and somewhat muscular structure embedded within his skin protruding a little. You wanted to protest and force him to lay down, for his towel was now off his face and you were now flipped over and pinned against the bed surrounded by numerous products, but he was distracting you with the excessive tickling to the point where you couldn’t formulate words to scold him. “STOP ti-ckling me—it HURTS when you do it! L-Love, pleaseee—”

“That means it’s working,” Kenma mocked you in a sarcastic, playful sneer as he proceeded with his pokes and abrupt tickles, knowing each spot makes you crumble and weaken under his touch. The few liberated, platinum blond strands that escaped from his silk bonnet stuck to his forehead and side of his face due to the water-product mixture he has yet to wipe from his pores. Oddly, his crimsoned face, narrowed-eyed, condescending gaze, and subtle, contented grin embellished his current state; it was like peering at the eclipse each time he smiled. Had you not been fighting for your life at the moment, you would take a moment to take in the fact that you’re quite the fucking winner. Still, you’re positive that you’re still winning, as for now he was casually straddling you, finally giving you a moment to take a breather. Also giving you time to concoct comprehensible sentences and slurs to utilize to curse him out with.

As you were gently panting, he could’ve sworn that the birds weren’t there to begin with, and the rain began to evanesce; this must be the solo of the morning, yes? Your chest rising and falling in a rhythmic manner, you muttering small complaints about him messing up your hair (which he helped pay for), you incapable of not becoming a smiley mess without him giving you an incredulous expression for longer than three seconds, or the way your disarming gaze glinted with seraphic tears he felt destined to wipe away each time they would cascade. While utilizing the towel to carefully dap and wipe away the product from his face, he couldn’t help but feel an incessant ache in his abdomen every time you were just being yourself. Sometimes he hated how much he loved you; he hoped that your feelings corresponded with his every hour.

“Thanks, dear,” Kenma commented absentmindedly, but after processing your confused expression and proneness to asking “huh”, he acknowledged that he actually needed to voice what exactly he was thanking you for without admitting that he was suffocating in kilos of love, which induced his subconscious speech. Awkwardly, he shifted his lower half on your stomach, glancing away for a moment as a hesitant hum eluded him. Although you were always patient for what he was going to say, for he wasn’t the kind of guy to have the patience for his own emotions, it inspired him more to behold a sense of calmness before speaking. Still, at the end of the day, it was still mortifying. “Y’know, for this stuff.. I guess… I-.. yeah…”

You stifled a laugh, earning an immediate pouty glare from him in return, which only caused you to laugh more and more. He knew it wasn’t out of malice, but how could he not blush even further? The prettiest woman in the world granting him his attention like this? Of course it would take this long to admit his love for you; look at you!

“Of course, love. Anything for you,” You spoke, your tone trembling a little since you were still trying not to laugh at his evident struggle. He simply ignored your behavior before snatching up his switch off the bed, bringing his attention back to the level he was destined to make you lose in. The way he quickly became engrossed within the game as if he wasn’t practically gushing over you made you suck your teeth, and the fact that he heard you and decided to silently giggle behind the screen only induced your offense. “Nigga, I’m boutta break that shit one day.”

He struggled responsively before riposting gently yet sarcastically. “And your total will be 20,000 yen once you finish.”

To think he has the nerve to get bold-mouthed even after the song finishes…

yuyinesque | translate with permission & peruse without theft.

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yuyinesque · 17 days

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SORCERER KILLA | “𝗌𝖾𝖾, 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌? 𝖿𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗂𝗍 𝗌’𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾.”

⚘ précis. ≡ you believed that your stomach was too corpulent to have a prominent belly bulge, and so the infamous sorcerer killer is here to prove you completely wrong.

⚘ disclaimers. ≡ chubby!fem, sub reader, top!fushiguro, belly bulge, fucking you sideways, overstimulation, squirting, degradation, overstimulation, irritated toji, cervix kisses, condescending praise, rough sex, implied breeding kink, implied size kink, face grabbing/slapping, mentions of pet names (baby; princess, cheeks; big girl), toji just love us fat bitches and i know it.

⚘ category. ≡ nsft smut headcanons.

⚘ wc. ≡ 876.

𖦥 m.list. oc.list

🧷 chubby!lover toji who caught you in a crabby state, likely over something mere once more—or perhaps his definition of mere. but of course, as the role of a lover, he checked in with a tease, grabbing your chunky face with his lusty hand that practically covers your whole face, grinning in contentment as he watches you pout when he squeezed and kneaded into your cheeks both attentively and aggravatingly. — “the matter, cheeks? talk to me.. want my attention? or you’re just bleeding again?”

🧷 chubby!lover toji who listens to you hesitantly explain a twitter video that appeared on your timeline, which consisted on a man fucking into his woman to the point where his dick was hammering beneath her lower stomach, bulging to the point where it looked as if it was going to emerge. you couldn’t help but wonder if you couldn’t receive similar treatment because of your rubenesque physique, which would potentially alter the vision that you want. this didn’t sit right with toji in the slightest.

🧷 chubby!lover toji who took it as a challenge, but you insisted that it wouldn’t work! your tummy was simply too fat, and so it will not be seen! though, he was simply too obstinate to listen to your explanations, not to mention miffed that you believed that his dick wasn’t big enough to leave imprints within your soul. because of this, he lifted you effortlessly underneath your dimpled thighs without a need to grunt before tossing you onto the bed, prompting a stunned huff from you instead.

🧷 chubby!lover toji who was fucking into your fat, inundated lips with phenomenal speed, eliciting both thunderous claps to resound within the vicinity and hellacious wails that escaped your pained throat. your dimpled, stretch mark-embedded thighs undulated with each aggressive thrust as well as your stomach which also inured a similar feeling. he was fucking you sideways mercilessly as he watches your slobbery and marked tits bounce arrythimically on your chest, not to mention that your upper lips seemed to be drooling almost as much as your lower ones. your cries were subtly muffled due to the fact that his hand was back on your face, fettering it tightly to the point where you were sure that you’d feel the pain in your jaw on a later date. — “s’too much—mmagh! a-aah! mmh, mmh, mm—tojiiii baby, ffuuuck…!”

🧷 chubby!lover toji who takes pride in your noises and takes it as a sign to fuck into your harder, watching you choke and sputter pleas as you squirted all over his lower half for the fourth time this evening. your eyes slammed shut due to the overstimulation, your pants heightened and pitched as you struggled to get a good breath. instinctively, he gave your face a harsh slap before grabbing it up again, a known implication to keep your eyes on him, which forced a loud whine from you. you were beginning to believe that he’s forgotten the primary objective. — “uh uh, eyes on me… atta girl, fuck… big girl taking it like a big whore…”

🧷 chubby!lover toji whose midnight-hued hair glued to his perspiring face, whose tongue was slivering down your exposed neck, and whose teeth sunk back into your tit, marking what was his and what will remain his for eternity. finally giving you a moment, he dropped your leg and adjusted you so that you were on your back, breathing manically with subtle whimpers in between when he gradually began pulling out. his roseate tip tapped against your tumescent clit causing your body to jolt each time and for him to gutturally groan. he then took your chubby hand before placing it under your pudge, pressing it against your cervic area with a cocky smirk.

🧷 chubby!lover toji who slowed his strokes for a moment, watching his cum create some spillage, prompting him to fuck it back into you so you could stay full of it. you clenched tightly in realization when you felt his dick underneath the layers of your skin, moaning lowly at the sensation once the tip kissed the cervix in an awfully gentle manner. he tapped your hand a few times to indicate he wants you to keep feeling him, and you wanted nothing more than to obey with a mindless smile plastered onto your tear-stained face. — “see, princess? focus, and you’ll feel it s’more. wanna feel what’s yours in this pretty, fat pussy, huh? want it harder?”

🧷 chubby!lover toji who watched you nod subconsciously at the thought, whimpering in protest once he pulled out to slap his dick against your clit a few more times just to fuck with you. besides, when he stalls this much, he wants you to put it back inside for him; he loves that shit. you did just that, your wet eyes gazing up at him as you reached down with your free hand to assist him, biting down onto your bottom lip as you smiled puckishly, tiredly. just that look alone ignited more urges to ruin you, and once he felt your voracious walls clasp around him, his hands grabbed onto your thick thighs before slamming his hips back inside of you, regressing to fucking you senseless yet again.

yuyinesque | translate with permission & peruse without theft.

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