The-lonely-raven - ? - Tumblr Blog

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HEAR ME OUT—

Got bribed by @faith-orise & @dilutedh2so4 Here for all who asked for a sandwich! 🥪 Just eat it! I DONT WANT TO LOOK AT IT. I WILL NEVER DO THIS AGAIN

Odysseus: 600 men making our way back home to Ithaca!

*Polythemus swings his club around*

Odysseus: 593 men making our way back home to Ithaca.

*Poseidon wipes out the other 11 ships in the fleet*

Odysseus: ...43 men making our way back home to Ithaca.

*Elpenor's drunk ass falls off Circe's roof*

Odysseus: 42 men making our way back home to Ithaca, I guess.

*Scylla targets the torch holders*

Odysseus: 36 men making our way back home to Ithaca. Put that sword away, Eurylochus.

*Zeus strikes the ship with lightning*

Odysseus: 1 man making his way back home to Penelope and Telemachus. And by the gods, I will somehow make it.

— Concept: Student Yandere and Professor Darling

Warning: GN! Reader, blackmail, n/on-con, d/ub-con, age gap, student-teacher relationship, push-over reader, unfair ending, n/oncon recording, uhh ask to tag!

A/N: just a concept that plagued me for a while... hhhhhhh;; i'm so normal ab this

Any dynamics that involve an authority figure and a subordinate, no matter how innocent they may initially seem, are doomed from the start for either or both of the parties involved. 

There’s an underlying power imbalance, someone holds the authority over the other, there is no nice way to put it, unfortunately. 

Most of the time, in fics, I see a lot of Yan professors creeping on their students, but the thought of a student Yan harassing their beloved professor has been plaguing my mind. 

I see the relationship as one that starts sweetly, you’ve noticed a certain student in your course that’s been falling behind, making mistakes that should have long been addressed, their work is always late or partially done and you’re growing slightly annoyed at them for wasting your time and misusing theirs as well, you’d offered them private tutoring when you found out it seemed to be only your course where they were turning in these less than acceptable projects. 

They reject, seemingly embarrassed that you’d even offered such a proposal. You try to calm their nerves down, you’re pretty young yourself, you only graduated a few years ago and you won’t charge them, it won't be a daily thing but they can pop in every once in a while at your office so you can review and work on assignments and such. The hesitant look on their face seems to slowly be melting off.

You continue insisting, you lay out the facts as they are; they’re a brilliant student who has been passing all other courses and extracurricular activities with flying colors, so why is that your course has become such a challenge to them? You’be seen them work and the way they behave during class, you’ve even noticed how some students go to them to try and clear up any questions and study together with them, rumors about them being easily one of the college’s star students were always going around, so it’s either that they’re making shit up and lying to their peers, which you doubt since you’ve seen their works before and after reaching out to them, or they were purposefully trying to fail your class, maybe they thought it’d be easier and decided to try it and decided from the get go not do their best – after all, it wasn’t as if all of the work they’ve handed is bad, there’s some clear understanding of what they’re doing, it’s just that they seem insistent on missing something, even if it means inconsistencies in their resume of work, the assignments that made up less percentage of the overall grade were done well enough but anything that was important was clearly half-assed. You explain your concern; you’re genuinely worried your class might hold them back from graduating with their peers, if things kept going on like this, they’d fail your class and if they did, they’d have to repeat the semester and risk graduating a year or so later.

It’s then that they pull out a card they’d been holding on to dearly for a situation such as this, a perfectly curated story meant to pull at your heartstrings and lead you into their honey sweet trap;

They start going on about a sob story about their parents’ jobs, how they were struggling financially for a while since their parents cut them partially off for choosing a college out of their town, and how they’re supposed to provide for themselves for things such as food and bills, about how their schedule is always so busy trying to balance college, their friendships, mending their relationship with their parents, and their job on top of all studying they’ve been doing, how your class had unfortunately been the least of their concerns and that they’re immensely sorry to have worried you and that they are willing to do anything to make up for their past grades. 

You can empathize with such a dilemma, being fresh out of college yourself, the memories of balancing relationships, work, and academics are still freshly etched into your mind. 

They clearly seem burned out and your heart aches seeing a student as promising as themselves dim down so drastically. You’d hate to be one class that impedes them from graduating on time, you don't want to be the lone profesor responsible for slowing down such a valuable asset to society.

You sit them down and try to offer them some advice, you were in a similar situation when you were in college yourself, you try to explain the ways you managed to survive and bypass college, going into detail about your own problems and how you were able to live through it all. They seem visibly more relaxed during the conversation, nodding along and explaining their own feelings and hardships, you both manage to sympathize with each other and come to an arrangement.

It’s completely under the table since you are worried what it might look like, but from now on until the end of this semester you’d use a more relaxed, less strict grading system for them, after all, they did have a legitimate reason for their behavior and they were willing to make up for it. That is, under the condition that they start taking tutoring classes from either yourself or a fellow classmate, they weren’t able to balance the studying schedule necessary so you’d try and manage at least one aspect of it for them to try and make their life a little bit easier.

They agree gladly, but not before asking if you could be the tutor, when you’d questioned their request they explain themselves, seemingly embarrassed for their own reasoning;

“I don’t want it to get out that I’m failing your class, professor…” The smile they wear seems genuine and shy and you nod in understanding, college students are only older teenagers, after all, most of them are still stuck in their high school mentality and you wouldn’t put it past a bunch of immature little shits to try and mess with someone who was struggling.

What you don’t know is that they’ve been planning for something like this to happen from the get go, always going out of their way to purposefully present themselves as a stupid, pathetic and incompetent student that would need their hot professor’s (your) help to pass the course.

During your first couple of sessions they work extra hard to make themselves seem as ditzy and clueless as possible, making as many mistakes and errors as humanly reasonable without getting you too annoyed at them. They even begin to dress in slightly more provocative ways, their speech seems more flirtatious, their touches linger on your shoulders for longer than necessary, but you brush it off, trying to ignore the signs, and think of it as a silly crush, opting to try to focus on helping them get through this semester with either a decent or average grade.

Their grades are getting better but with the current pace, you were afraid it wouldn’t be enough.

So, you ignore the uncomfortable, sinking feeling in your gut and suggest making your tutoring sessions more frequent - instead of once a week maybe twice or thrice if it was really necessary.

You didn’t expect them to suggest going to your place. Originally, you’d suggested either the library or a cafe, but they said they felt too embarrassed and self-conscious at the idea of their peers watching him, they claimed they’d probably make fun of them for needing help for a course they’d been taking for almost a whole semester at that point.

They insist on your place, but you reject the idea, they say it’s either there or at their place because elsewhere you both risk either staff or some of the student body seeing you both together and getting the wrong idea. The conversation goes on for hours until you’re exhausted and give in. 

They are a good person, right? Even if the thought of a student knowing where you lived made you uncomfortable, it wasn’t like they’d do anything about it… right?

You try to limit the study space to your living room, the bathroom, and the kitchen every once in a while if you notice the snacks you had brought weren’t enough, but never further than that. Your bedroom and office were completely off limits, you’d made it explicitly clear that if you caught them wandering far you’d have no choice but to kick them out and stop the tutoring, possibly even having to call the campus’ authorities if you felt they were getting too out of line – your reputation be damned. 

They also were only allowed to come over during the weekends and on specific weekdays where no one would be able to catch him entering your apartment.

They agree and promise to follow every single one of the rules you’d put in place.

But it doesn’t take long for them to start going back on their word and start “exploring” your living space, it started small – simply walking around your living room, examining framed pictures, looking over books, memorizing the placement of your trinkets and decor, making a mental note of the colors you used in the space, they make sure to remember to try and look up where you got your cushions and everything as well, they start looking into you fridge and pantry to make see what you eat, if there’s any indication of a possible food allergy; it’s all investigative work for your future together. It’s not too long before they’ve memorized your living room and are drawn to the rest of your house. They've gone to your bedroom and studied the space, taking note of the way you made your bed and how many pillows you have, they also have made a list of products you use and like, such as scents and soaps, to make sure your transition to their place is as smooth as possible. Soon, they could very well draw a floor plan of your place and recreate your home in the most basic of softwares. 

The only reason you haven’t caught up to them is because they’ve taken to spiking your drinks with sleep medication, strong enough dosages that you’ll be knocked out for a while, but not enough that you’ll realize you were drugged.

It’s during your sleeping state that the next part of their plan starts to take action. They’ll purposefully plant evidence in your home of their presence and snap pictures, suddenly their underwear is in your laundry basket, and why are you wearing their hoodies to sleep, huh? They’re meticulously planned and staged pictures that make it look like you were engaging in a romantic relationship, but it’s not enough — they need more, something more extreme. More incriminating, something that would absolutely destroy your career and reputation if it came out.

What about a picture of them going down on you? Or one with their cum all over your face? Your naked figure cuddling up to their bare chest? Some makeup to look like hickies could look realistic in pictures too, you know. Maybe them on top of you… or you on top of them? Or one where your lips are sucking their fingers like a —! Ah, the thought has them blushing! All of these photos are like their dreams come true! You look like such a perfect spouse, taking their love~ They make sure to clean up the space, but they’re growing bolder and more confident in their work.

They even have videos of themselves jacking off on top of you, but they’re always so good at making it seem like you’re awake and participating in these activities! It really does look like you’re helping them get off with your own mouth.

You’re such a naughty professor seducing your innocent, sweet student like that!

It’s sick, they’re sick and they know it fully well but they don’t care, as long as they don’t get caught – there’s no way in hell they’ll stop.

Their grades begin improving and there’s no longer any fear of them failing your class, in fact you’d go as far to say they’ve easily become one of your best students in terms of grades. Things seem to be looking up and you’re pretty proud of yourself for having had a positive impact on them, which is why you come to the conclusion they won’t be needing your tutoring anymore. 

You call them over to your office after classes, making sure to be as nice as possible. At first you were annoyed and put off by them, their initial behavior was unsettling and persistent, but after a couple of months of getting to know them you’ve grown to care for them and genuinely wish them the best, you’d pointed out how teaching them had been a joy and you’d always end the sessions feeling better than before, which is why you’d chosen to end the tutoring. You lay out the facts as they are, their grades have improved and there’s no longer any threat of them failing your class, you’d also be risking people misunderstanding the situation if it went any longer, if word came out you’d been using a different rubric to grade them until recently and that they’d been going over to your place, it would simply look bad for both of you. You’d risk getting sanctioned, possibly even losing your job if things were taken in the wrong way, and they could repeat the semester or even have their work in your class be null and having to take a new course entirely, if not even being kicked out.

There’s a minute of silence between the two of you, the air is thick and you wonder if you should have been softer in your delivery as you watch them process your words.

It takes them a while, you decide to give them the time because you have indeed noticed how they’d seem to grow ever so attached to you and they might take this a bit too personally, but you’re soon starting to grow increasingly uncomfortable as the silence continues.

You’re about to say something again, try to soften the blow with some generic encouragement about how they’ll do well regardless of you being their tutor or not, when you hear them chuckle softly under their breath.

You’re taken aback, your eyes widen in surprise and you unconsciously lean back into your chair, but that seems to have further encouraged their laughter as soon they’re covering their face with the back of their hand as they double over in laughter.

It’s strange but you decide to give them a few seconds to regain their composure, maybe this was a nervous habit? You’d heard of people who’d laugh when anxious, but you’d never seen something so theatrical.

They slowly sit back up, wiping tears from their eyes as a few chuckles escape their smiling lips. They haven’t fully calmed down but seem to be making an effort to continue the conversation nonetheless.

“Ah, professor,” your last name tumbles from their lips in a joyous manner but their eyes look icy as they stare at you, their voice feels more aggressive even if the words came out from a smile, “don’t be so ridiculous, I think things are working pretty well as they are, I have no desire to change our… relationship.” 

You’re taken by surprise, their word choice feels odd and purposeful, but you insist regardless.

“There is no relationship between us,” you state, “I am your professor, do you understand? That means that if I say your tutoring is over, it’s over; I have been going easy on you and helping you out but do not misinterpret my intentions, you are my student and that’s where our acquaintanceship ends. If you think you’ll continue needing help, I’m certain our TA will be more than glad to step up and help you out.”  

They smile as they take their phone out of their pocket and your stomach drops for a second, wondering what on earth they could have there. They slide it towards you after unlocking it, they’re carefree in their handling of the device and your nerves start to rise, a gut wrenching feeling settles in your stomach, you don’t really understand what you’re seeing at first but once you do you feel your blood run cold.

You don’t even realize they’ve walked behind your chair, too focused on the picture of your naked body cuddling up to their equally nude form. They’re smiling, tenderly caressing your bare shoulders, embracing your body in such a loving manner it looked like you were lovers. When… When did they take this? 

Your voice is shaking but they don’t answer you, instead opting to crouch beside you and show you the hundreds of incriminating pictures themselves.

They start telling you a story based on the pictures, the one they seemed to be telling you even if you knew that everything they depicted was fake, about a promiscuous professor that seduced their student, coaxed them into a relationship and took advantage of their position to influence the student into falling in love with them.

You want to tell them it won’t work, threaten to call the dean or the campus police, but they quickly clear out any confusion; “Would anyone believe a student would seduce a teacher and that it’s not the other way around?”

You know exactly what they mean; you’re the professor, you hold the authority. You had never been able to put a stop to it because you had no idea what they were doing but that didn’t matter, it was your word against theirs and they had “evidence”.

They seem proud of themselves too, telling you about all the ways they set up the rooms and photos to make sure they looked as real as possible. They’d taken their clothes and belongings over to your place in secret, made sure to apply makeup in the right places with the correct lighting, it seriously felt like an art they’d perfected.

You ask them what they could possibly want, clearly it couldn’t be only your tutoring if they were going this far. They smile and tell you they simply want a relationship with you, one that goes beyond a professor and a student; from that day onwards they wanted to be your lover.

You want to say no, but they remind you of the position you’re in; “You know, I’ve got these backed up in a bunch of places, it’d be a shame if one leaked, right, professor?” 

You feel numb as they lock the door of your office and guide you on top of your desk, you barely even register them going down on you - stripping you naked and giving you oral. From that day onward, you were a prisoner to your own student.

Everyday, they’d act like any other person taking your classes, going to college, making friends, as if when your work day ended they didn’t torment you under the guise of love. Making themselves into your lover without your consent, as if you weren’t their professor, as if they weren’t your student. They celebrate your birthday and make you celebrate theirs, you go on dates outside of town so as to not be caught, there are times you almost forget the perverse nature of your relationship - but it always comes back to haunt you. They always come back to haunt you.

They make sure not to show any of the images to anyone for as long as they’re going to the college. They need to keep an eye on you, make sure your looks and personality don’t charm any other student - they’d hate to get rid of their classmates due to your unknowing seduction. They’re so good at acting like they weren’t bending you over your kitchen counter the minute they followed you home, you’d almost believe they were only your innocent, well meaning student if they didn’t send you videos of you two fucking as extra-curriculum activities.   

They also take your courses religiously to make sure to always be in contact with you; you could never escape them, they’ll follow you home and come inside even if you try to shut the door behind you. Whenever you tried changing the lock they'd find a way to break in anyway, on campus they’d sneakily follow you everywhere and harass you. Those who notice, the few that do, think of it as cute, an innocent puppy crush that would fade by next semester. 

It’s not until they gets their diploma three years later that they releases a drive full of the videos and pictures, making sure to add dates and location, everything to prove you were fucking a student. You were a whore of a professor seducing their students.

You’re fired immediately and it’s not long until your friends and family cut contact with you for seducing a poor college student and using your power over them as leverage. Nobody wants to hire you, they’d make sure to document every single dirty detail of your relationship so as to ruin your reputation until you’d be forced to turn to the only person who didn’t turn their back on you.

You can only walk into their open arms as they suggest finally moving in together, possibly getting married, and maybe even having a couple of children now that they have graduated and received their degree.

But even through it all, they still have the audacity to call you their beloved “professor”. 

Characters: Lisa (GI), Scaramouche (GI), Al-Haitham (GI), Kaeya (GI), Ayato (GI), Jing Yuan (HSR), Luocha (HSR), Aventurine (HSR), Vyn (TOT), Rafayel (L&DS), Ibara (ENSTARS), Eichi (ENSTARS), Yuzuru (ENSTARS), Cater (TWST), Rook (TWST), Kylar (DOL), Whitney (DOL), literally anyone you want really (TT)

✞ 666 ✞

🖤

You’re tired? A little exhausted? That’s okay, my love, I’m here. You don’t need to think anymore. Just listen to my voice and follow my words. You could be so much happier as my brainless little princess. No worries, no stressors. Nothing. You could be the happiest little girl if you just lay there and let me touch you, massage you, caress you. Let me push my cock inside you and I’ll fuck you slow and gently. I’ll make you forget everything except my hard, aching cock pumping inside you and my soft, sweet words echoing in your ears.

There, there, you’re doing so well. You’re taking my cock like the perfect little cock-addicted fuckdoll you are and I’m so proud of you. Work was hard today, wasn’t it? It was so hectic and stressful. I understand, my love. You just need some time to relax and breathe and fulfil your natural purpose as a cock-taking kitten.

No, sweetie. Tonight isn’t about me. It’s about you. Just relax and take it. Can you feel my fingers tracing your skin? My gentle, eager thrusts inside you? I hope you’re thinking about me and my cock. Nothing else. No one else. Just me. Focus on me and how good you make me feel and I promise you won’t need to worry about anything else ever again.

Shigaraki enters the hideout, walking right up to the bar and sitting on a stool across from Kurogiri.

“Kurogiri, I want a gamer girlfriend.” Shigaraki says, “I need your help.”

Kurogiri calmly sits down the glass he was cleaning, “Have you tried talking to a woman?”

Shigaraki shakes his head, “Not your advice— your help. And no! I have a better idea.”

Shigaraki stands on the roof of a tall building, carefully holding binoculars between his fingers. He peers down at the GameStop across the street. Kurogiri stands beside him.

“I’m choosing the first girl that walks out of that GameStop.” Shigaraki explains.

A mom and her children walk out of the GameStop, the kids all screeching and running around.

“I’m choosing the second girl that walks out of that GameStop.” Shigaraki corrects.

Hours pass and Shigaraki hasn’t moved from his spot where he surveils the GameStop building. Kurogiri had dozed off at some point and is lightly snoring.

“Kurogiri.” Shigaraki says, suddenly and sharply. Kurogiri jolts awake. “This is taking longer than expected. I haven’t seen any girls. Just a bunch of virgin plebs and Spinner.”

Kurogiri pauses to address the irony in that statement, then continues, “Perhaps you should consider a different method- like online dating?” Kurogiri asks.

“I’m banned on all those apps.” Shigaraki says.

Kurogiri tilts his head, “Why—“

“Shh!” Shigaraki says. “I think I see someone.”

You walk out of the GameStop holding packs of pokemon cards and a Shadow the Hedgehog plushy. You start to walk away, nearly tripping over the air. You mumble a slew of curses as you adjust your cat ear headband and keep walking.

Shigaraki places a hand over his chest, “Wow, she’s so cringe… She’s perfect.”

Kurogiri nods, “Very well. Go talk to her—“

“Talk to her??” Shigaraki asks. “Uh, no? I’m going to kidnap her, convince her to join the League, act cold, aloof, and disinterested until she discovers that on the inside I’m just a troubled soul with a bleeding heart and she falls in love with me. Duh! God, it’s like you’ve never read fanfiction before.”

Kurogiri sighs, “The fact that All For One doesn’t pay me for this is the worst crime he’s committed.”

˖ 🕷️ ˖˙ 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 ｜ 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆-𝗼𝗻𝗲

monster-fucking / eren yeager

sometimes words can be useless when you understand the other person so well

—

+ word c. 828

+ warnings. titans have genitals au, titan!eren, titan!fem reader, unprotected sex, creampies, pwp. i have no excuse for this i literally just wanna fuck titan eren and i think it’s TRAGIC that he doesn’t have a dick, so i gave him one ♡ happy halloween !!

Keep reading

✤ FOREIGN AFFAIRS ✤

AN: So this is a fic that literally nobody asked for but I've had it in my drafts forever and I thought it would be a shame to waste the idea. Whoops. Enjoy. CW: Non-Con, Cunnilingus, Brief mentions of spitting in mouth and spanking, Threat of pregnancy, Sort of implied American reader but you could read it as any english speaking country, though there is a dig in there that is pretty much aimed at Americans,

It’s hard being a foreigner in a country where you can’t speak a word of the language, harder than you’d expected when your job asked you to move halfway across the world.

Getting around is tough and it’s hard to remember all of the customs and formalities, but the worst part about living so far from home is how lonely it is.

At the beginning, you spent most nights curled up in your tiny apartment, crying and checking the time difference between where you are and home to see if it would be ok to call your parents. Things haven’t changed much since then. You know a little more of the language but you still haven't made any friends.

Well, except for your hot landlord who lives next door. 

He doesn’t speak a lick of english, but you don’t need to speak the same language to fuck.

You aren’t quite sure how your arrangement came to be. One minute you were handing him rent money and the next he was lapping at your cunt like a starved man. It doesn’t matter. You're content knowing that if he’s waiting on the staircase when you get home from work, it’s going to be a good night.

He’ll pull you down the hall, hands tangling in your hair and lips crashing against yours, fumbling clumsily with his keys to unlock the door to his apartment, all but kicking the door open and carrying you inside.

His kisses are hungry, greedy. Filled with a passion that you’ve never felt with boys back home. Maybe it’s just the fantasy-fulfillment aspect of having a hot foreign lover, but if he’s anything to go by, the rumors of men overseas being better at sex are definitely true.

Before you can even make it into the bedroom, your clothes are peeled off and shed on his kitchen floor. He's all over you the minute you’re naked, grabbing and touching you like he wants to commit the feeling to memory, worshiping every nook and cranny like he may never feel you again. 

You and him will somehow stumble into his bed in between hot kisses. Sometimes he’ll chase you playfully, sometimes he’ll lead you by the hand, sometimes he’ll scoop you up and throw you onto the mattress; mumbling something in his language that you don’t understand but sounds pretty hot regardless. 

Then he’ll climb on top of you and take you apart piece by piece. Suckling gently on your nipples while his fingers work your clit, nibbling little love bites on your thighs before lifting your hips so he can bury his face in your cunt, pressing teasing kisses down your body, mumbling what you assume to be praise of your figure in between each one. 

He just understands your body. He's attentive, a quick learner. It only took about a week of sleeping together for him to know exactly how to unravel you. He’s a generous lover. You’ve never slept with him without orgasming at least once. You’ve never had to fake an orgasm either, which is a massive improvement from the past men you’ve been with. 

It's not lost on you that the way he treats you is kind of strange for a fuck-buddy...

...But damn if it isn’t hot when he gets down on his knees and mumbles a prayer of adoration into your stomach.

Once it’s his turn to receive it can go one of two ways:

He’ll either be gentle, caressing you like fine china as he rolls his hips into yours, making love to you slowly, reverently, using your moans as a guide on how to touch you. He’ll cum with you, holding your hand as you both tumble over the edge, then pull you into his chest as the two of you come down and prepare for round two, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

Or he’ll be rough and relentless. Pounding into you unforgivingly, tossing you into whatever position he pleases before fucking you hard enough to make the headboard bang against the wall. He’s quite kinky, you’ve learned. When he’s in these moods he likes spitting in your mouth and pulling your hair, calling you filthy names as you cum for the third time.

You’ve learned a few new words in his language since you met him: faster, slower, slut, fuck, and I’m going to cum.

Not very practical for day to day use but still nice to know.

Once the two of you are spent, you’ll shower and he’ll pour you a glass of wine, then you'll sit on his small balcony in silence, looking out at the rooftops of the surrounding buildings. 

It’s…nice. Peaceful. It’s strange that you feel so intimate with him when the only real conversation you’ve ever had was a google translated text message about rent. 

But just like any good drama with a foreign fling, it can't last forever. 

As great as he is in bed, this country isn’t your home. You miss your family and friends and being able to ask for directions without feeling like an idiot. You’ll miss him—no doubt lie in bed sometimes and wonder what he’s doing, if he still thinks of you—but it’s better this way. You don’t belong here, you never have.

You’re sitting on his balcony basking in afterglow about three weeks before you’re set to leave when you drop the news. It’s better sooner rather than later, you decide. It’s not like you could irish-goodbye him, he is your landlord.

“Leaving…” his brow knits. He says it like the word tastes sour in his mouth.

“Yeah, in three weeks.” you smile, holding up three fingers for clarification.

He puts his cigarette out in the ashtray, shaking his head and mumbling something that you can’t understand. He looks…distressed. You hadn’t expected him to be thrilled by the news, but he looks like someone just punched him in the gut.

“Are you alri-”

“You aren’t leaving me.” he snaps, grabbing your wrist hard. Possessively, as if he’s nervous you might run away from him.

You're surprised by his hostility, but more so by the response he gave you. It was heavily accented and short, but it was grammatically correct English—something he’d never given any indication of knowing. 

“What are you-” 

You're cut off by a searing hot kiss. Ravenous and passionate, full of teeth and tongue—but not in the way they normally are. This one is… darker, like he’s trying to establish his dominance.

You squirm and try to push him off of you but he won’t let you go, fisting a hand in your hair to hold you in place as his mouth claims yours.

“Did we mean nothing?” he asks, backing you against the wall, pinning your wrists above your head, “We’ve been making love for months and you want to leave?”

“English…” your eyes tear up as he nips at your neck, “I thought you…”

“I’ve known it the whole time,” he lets out a small laugh of amusement. “They teach us English in school. We actually have good education here.” You cry, feeling his hot breath on your skin as he alternates between making out and nibbling at your neck, “I thought you'd think it was romantic, having a foreign lover.”

Each kiss steals your breath, makes you dizzy. He licks his lips, eying you hungrily, “I was going to pretend to learn english for you. I thought it would be a cute story to tell our children…”

Your eyes widen. Children? He wants to have kids-

Your thoughts are interrupted by him rising to his feet, hoisting you up with him and walking you to his bed. He tosses you on the mattress, climbing on top of you, hissing something quietly in his language that you don’t understand as he rocks his hard erection against your thigh.

“You aren’t leaving.” he growls, “I’ll handcuff you to this damn bed if I have to. There is nothing where you came from that you don’t have here”

You writhe as he kisses down your torso, bucking and squirming, trying to push him off of you. He tugs your hips down with a growl, sinking his fingers into the squishy flesh to keep you from moving. 

“P-please…” streams of tears roll down your cheeks as he tugs down your pants, “M-my home… My family.”

“This is your home now,” he growls, holding you down with one hand, fumbling with his pants with the other, taking out his hard penis.

He chuckles to himself in amusement and lines up with your hole, murmuring the next part in against your swollen lips as he pushes himself in.

“And I’m gonna make you a brand new family tonight.”

You once heard that foreign men are better lovers. 

Guess it depends on which one you run into.

suguru geto, satoru gojo, levi ackerman, eren jaeger, bakugo katsuki, keigo takami, shouto todoroki, atsumu miya, osamu miya, tooru oikawa, kuroo tetsuro, kiyomi sakusa, keishin ukai, cameron beck

—a holy knight, defiled

note: idk, was in a dragon mood sooo…some quick notes. keep in mind that I am trying my best to be very vague on the reader’s body type because 1, i love you all and i think all of you are very cute no matter your appearances, and 2, muscles comes in all forms and can be hidden behind fats. anyway, i’m sorry this is late, short and hellva rushed, def v far from being my best work. heck, i kinda hate this one but yall had been waiting for legit months so i couldn’t just scrap it. writing isn’t very easy thing for me to do these days…sighs. still, hope yall liked it some?

→summary: you, a valiant knight, lied beneath your greatest foe yet and the grinning serpent was pleased with its prize. →rating: explicitly noncon →pairing: dragon / older?afab!reader  →warnings: noncon, (minor) injuries →kinks / tags: tongue job / oral, size difference, virginity, big dick / monster dick, two dicks, anal, stomach deformation, knotting, piv, mindbreak, teratophilia, exophilia →word count: 2.7k, unedited minors dni.

image source | adal.fyre

—all rights reserved to @monstrouslyobsessed​

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More Ideas for KNY (demon slayer) different characters ♡ (SOME NSFW CONTENT FOR SANEMI AND MUZAN AND MENTIONS OF GORE IN SANEMI AND LIGHT NSFW IN GYOMEI)

<- Part 1

Imagine being dangerously in love.

Imagine being a demon, obsessed with the brash, and blood thirst Wind Hashira. the first time ever being in battle with him is what leads you down a path of want and lust for the cruel hashira.

Imagine going out of your way to always be where he is, always catching his attention and being attacked by him. He believes you're mocking him, following him just to show off that he hasn't been able to kill you. But that isn't true at all. When you fight, you never actively try and gut him, only blocking your neck and leaving the rest of your limbs exposed to be lashed in this masochism tango.

Imagine struggling to hide your enjoyment and ecstacy each time his sword ripped, teard, and scar your body. He had to have known how me made you feel. He must. The darkness of your cheeks must've been a giveaway. Right? His eyes bewitching you in how intense he glares into your soul. It sets a fire under your cold skin, a burning desire.

Imagine one time when you and Sanemi are fighting. Other slayers show up. But they don't instantly jump into the fight. 1. from looking at the fight, you hadn't landed a single strike and seemed to be a greater deal slower than the hashira, and 2. Tanjiro made an odd comment. "Huh, it's like she's avoiding striking him on purpose."

Imagine how Shinobu decided the fight was long enough and tried to sneak in and end the fight. Only for a switch to set off and catch her off guard and spin at the speed of light, leaving a large gash across her body from her left founder to her hip. And Sanemi instantly tried to help her. Only to be stopped by your own weapon pressed so close to his neck that even swallowing made his Adamsapple scrape against a sharp blade. "Don't you dare. Your attention is meant for me. Are you seriously letting her attempt to get between us work?" And that made Sanemi pause... "us? Wha-" -- "don't play dumb darling. We're soulmates, Sanemi~" you whisper to him. "What the fuck."

Imagine how now you make him feel so conflicted, how he hates you for what you are but loves you for how you make him feel... in his home in his spare time as the sun rises, his windows covered and locked tight as he has you on your knees, leaning forward and his chest pressed to your back. Your head locked between his bicep as his other hand held his sword under you. It nicks you each time he thrusts. If he pushed you forward anymore, his blade would surely cut your chest and stomach open. "I HATE YOU, YOU FILTHY DEMON. I DONT WANT YOU. CURSE YOU FOR DEMONIC TEMPTATION." You softy cry at the harsh words from your love, "I don't care if you don't want me... I'm yours right now..."

Sanemi Shinazugawa × Demon reader Trope: Yandere Lovesick/I hate you so much I love you.

Imagine being with Muzan his entire life... your family were servants to his family. And from a young age, you were assigned to be Muzans personal maid or companion as you were too young to really do any work than cleaning up his room. But since you can remember, you've always been with Muzan.

Imagine being the one he confides with most. His fears, his wishes, and despite his coldness. His shouldering eyes seemed to be less scorching when it came to you. His one and only friend. Even if you didn't have much of a choice in the companionship. It was you who sat in on his doctor's visits about his deteriorating health. When he got the news of how it would be a miracle for him to even make it to his mid 20s...

Imagine how one night after a particularly scary coughing fit, he simply places his head to your mid section as you blush his hair and pull it back into a braid. He softy thanks you as he tilts his head to look up at you, "Of course, I'm always happy to take care of you." But that isn't want he wants. He wanted to take care of you. Not you to him. And without thinking, he pulls you down to him.

Imagine His heat is pounding in his chest. You lay across him as his long and slim fingers tease you between your legs. You try and stay quiet, your face twisted with pleasure and guilt. You felt like you were taking advantage of the sick man who would never find love or feel the love of another in such a romantic and intimate way. You thought maybe that this was him just grasping for a moment where he didn't feel so useless being bedridden. But it was so much more. If this was the last thing he did, pleasing the only one who he cared for most. The one he wished he could've married... he would be happy to die. This surely isn't good for his heart, but he couldn't care less. You hovering yourself above him. As he tried weakly to pull you in to rest your whole weight. This was how he wanted to spend his last days, weeks, and months. However long he had left. He wanted it to be with you.

Imagine as days go by, and he feels more and more guilty. He starts to feel as though you let him do these things because you feel obligated as his personal maid to do so. Nights in the dark ask he fingers you, giving and receiving oral pleasure. But you still won't give him everything. You refuse to fully lay with him. Sometimes, he feels like it's because you don't really love him. Not like he does you. Or maybe you find him... pathetic... he can't actually make love to you. You'd be doing all the work. He doesn't want that, and it seems you don't either... eventually, his thoughts become too much, and he decides to let you go...

Imagine you were relieved of all your maid duties, not just to Muzan but to the family as a whole. You were heartbroken. And the heartbreak only worsened at the news of Muzan and his families and your families deaths. You'd cried more times than you'd ever had before in your life. And you were so very confused when you'd found a Man who looked exactly like Muzan sitting in your bed a few nights later. "Hello dear. I'm home." He invented to truly give you what you wanted, and he was eager to give it too you.

Muzan Kibutsuji × reader Trope: Unrequited/reunited love/soulmates

Imagine being Master Kagaya's faithful slayer, you'd always admired him. You and your Master had created a strong bond. Stronger than others. Moments like this reminded you that you were special. You sat on your knees as you just like you had the first time. Your head pressed to his chest and he dragged his fingers over your head.

Imagine trying not to tear up as you remember the first time you'd kneeled for him. You'd been reckless and impatient leading to a fellow slayer getting extremely hurt. You kneeled before him as you sat in the room alone waiting for him to speak. Doing your best to not make any noise as you silently cry. You'd failed him. Your beloved Master. But he didn't yell. He didn't make you feel like you were a problem. He merely hummed before knealing with you, one hand on atop your head and the other cupping your cheek feeling the wet stream of tears and wiped it away. "It's alright. You didn't mean for this to happen. I know you didn't. I know you're a good girl." And your breath hitched. He noticed. And from then on he gave you positive affrimations which encouraged you to do better. For him.

Imagine how as you sat there listening to his words letting yourself flow away and melt into your master. He thought it was innocent. He was simply your master helping you, if it wasn't him maybe you'd find these soft words from Gyomei or maybe even Kyojuro... but he was wrong. So wrong. It was him. Only him. You'd put yourself on the line so much more than you should've. All to hear those soft praises. His wife must not like you... you do take up more and more of his time as days go on...

Imagine how he softly calls to you. Late that night, he'd heard your footsteps. He sat with you talking. About anything that day. Soft and short conversations. Quiet but not uncomfortable. "You're my favorite you know." He sighed, before he let out a small chuckle "don't tell the others." You know he was teasing. But your heart told you other wise.

Imagine being hurt. In battle you were hurt. But even in your pain you still made your way to your master... your beautiful Kagaya... the married man, the family man, that you had fallen in love with. "My dear, you still come and see me while you're in such pain?" He seemed shocked. But you aren't sure why, you'd walk on hot coles and crawled on your hands and belly to kneel for him. You'd do anything for your master. And you could only hope as his favorite... you wouldn't let him down. Finally you lifted your head from his chest, pulling his hands from your hands, leaving a kiss to his knuckles. One day. One day you'll have him.

Kagaya Ubuyashiki × Slayer reader Trope: unrequited love/lovesick/slow burn

Special Part two of Forbidden love with Gyomei × demon

Imagine how the rest of the slayers flock around Gyomei, asking him so many questions. And he couldn't even answer them all. Too consumed by his disbelief that the person he'd fallen in love with so deeply, had turned out to be a demon.

Imagine how he layed in bed lonely and... missing you. He began to long of your cold touch, your voice, your laugh that was so contagious to him. He missed you. He'd fallen for you. Demon or not. He laid in his bed trying and failing to get even a wink of sleep. But just as he had almost fallen asleep he was awoken by a sound. 'Tap tap' was the sound, 'tap tap' on his window. "Gyomei... my love..."

Imagine how he practically leaped from his bed. Demon or not you had carved yourself a spot in his heart. Slamming open the window and pulling you inside, his hands instantly feeling over your cheeks, your nose, your neck. Kissing the knuckles of your cold hands.

Imagine being the one that made Gyomei for a moment stay from his faiths. Gyomei devoted his life to his beliefs, that includes waiting. Waited all his life for the one. Saving himself and waiting. But you both were in a unique circumstances... so from that point on Gyomei promised himself to you. You would stay with him in his home and he would always come back to you. That night he would kiss you, love you, lay you under him while he whispered for you to be his.

Bathtub sex with your husband because he was suddenly all petty and jealous with your servants helping you bathe.

CW: NSFW, slight yandere, GN Reader

Your husband had always been an understanding man, he thought with a cool head and logic all the time. He would never get jealous of his love rivals, reasoning he was way better of an option than they would ever be.

Yes, he was not arrogant but he knew his own self-worth. He knew he had always been the best for you.

So why did he suddenly insisted on helping you bathe?

“Dear, did you mean bathing with me or did I hear you wrong?” You stood next to him as he prepared the water for you. The scent he chose had always been floral, something that smelled innocent in a sense.

Your husband shook his face as he felt the temperature of the water. It welcomed him warmly, assuring him that it was the perfect temperature for you to relax already. Yulian beckoned you to enter the bathtub and so you did.

He pushed a cart of bathroom amenities, the aromatherapy candles all lit to light the room enough for as he switched the lights off.

You sighed at the sensation, slowly melting into one with the water. Yulian sat by the tub, his hands slowly massaging your tense shoulders as he hummed a lullaby for you.

“How lucky are the servants who help you bathe to see you like this every day.” He whispered into your ears as you giggled.

“Are you envious of them?”

Yulian stayed silent for a moment as he poured water over your head, “Recently,” he spoke as he poured the ointment into his hands, “I’ve been seeing lots of divorce trials.”

You hummed at his reply, leaning into his hands massaging your scalp, “And?”

“Most of them come from… affairs.”

You raised one of your eyebrows at the mention of affair, “Are you saying I might be cheating with one of my servants dear?”

“Not really,” Yulian now focused back on massaging your shoulders again, “but I can't help but be bothered by the fact that one of your servants might be admiring you, enchanted by you.”

His face inched closer to yours now, “And while they are at it, they can freely see and feel your body…” his hands slowly felt your arms up and down, “and be around you every day, helping you dress, attending all your needs while I'm away.”

You've never seen your husband act like this before. This was the first time he had shown his jealousy blatantly.

Yulian started pressing chaste kisses on the back of your neck, his grips remained on your arms. You squirmed as his hands snaked further into your nipples.

“It's so unfair, I'm your husband and yet they get to see you so vulnerable more often than I would ever be.”

What was once a chaste kiss soon turned into hickeys, purple decorating you from the back of your neck to your collarbone. You recognized this gesture as his way of showing his pettiness.

“So today,” his fingers tweaked your nipples as he kissed your earlobe, “can I show you just how much I love and adore every bits of you?”

—

The two of you were connected in the bathtub, his cock throbbed as its snug inside of you. How many times had he cum so early yet still had the strength to continue? You knew your husband couldn't last long but that didn't mean his stamina was to be doubted.

His precision in hitting your sweet spot had always been pitch-perfect. It never failed to make you squeal and tighten around him, pushing him closer to yet another orgasm.

Yulian hid his face in the crook of your neck, trying his best to not bite into your flesh, and opted to bite his lip until he tasted steel instead.

You moaned out his name as you felt like you were about to reach yet another orgasm as well. Your hand intertwined with his, you turned back to kiss him, tasting his blood while at it.

“So close… together?”

Yulian’s cock throbbed at the mention of it before he nodded along, “I-I’ll try.”

Yulian lifted you from his lap and positioned you to lean onto the wall before he continued ramming into you like a starving man. Nonetheless, he still made sure to prioritize your pleasure as well instead of being selfish and chasing his own release.

Your knees wobbled and you felt really weak yet his strong grip wouldn't let you slide down, at least not until you two were done.

Ragged breath and breathy groans, the bathroom smelled like sex instead of florals. The whole candles flickered with each thrust he made and the water rippled with every shake your legs made.

It didn't take so long for you two to come in unison. The bath water that was once pristine and clean was soon mixed with both of your bodily fluids. Your insides felt warm the moment he came inside you again.

Your knees slowly gave up as the two of you slowly collected your composure. Yulian’s hands never let you go as he slowly lowered you into his embrace again.

He started peppering your face with kisses again, his fingers ran over all the hickeys he had left all over you, some were in a very visible place.

“How am I supposed to cover all of these dear?” you pouted at him as you pushed his face away from you playfully.

Yulian raised his eyebrows before answering you, “You don't cover them dear.”

Yandere!Demon!Tanjiro x Reader

Synopsis: Nezuko’s demon older brother has taken a liking to you. You, however, find him a bit creepy. No trigger warnings on this one! It’s a little unsettling but nothing to write home about. Also, I’d die for Demon!Tanjiro, whoever came up with this AU is a fucking genius.

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please remember you are writing fanfiction for fun. please remember you are writing fanfiction for fun. please remember you are writing fanfiction for fun. please remember you are writing fanfiction for fun. please remember you are writing fanfiction for fun. please remember you are writing fanfiction for fun. please remember you are writing fanfiction for fun. please remember you are writing fanfiction for fun

Alpha! Nanami who works so much that he can’t seem to find time to socialize in order to find his supposed fated mate.

Alpha! Nanami who is the perfect example of what an Alpha should look like, big, beefy, strong, reliable, every quality that makes an omega drool but he hates the scent of each blasted person who tries to disrurb him during his work.

Alpha! Nanami who often gets reported to HR for growling at his annoying coworkers that try to flirt with him or for using his Alpha Voice on unruly Omegas that try to sexual assault him during work hours.

Alpha! Nanami who one day finds himself bothered by the cruel words of a heartless omega that was offended by him rejecting her. She claimed him “an unlovable alpha who would surely die alone” and that statement shook him to his core.

Alpha! Nanami who honestly hated how big his penthouse was and how lonely it was for an Alpha that longed for a loving partner and a pack of children to welcome him home after a long day at the office. It was a dream he wished to achieve but it’s hard finding the time to find someone who would match his intellect and be okay with such a stoic man like him.

Alpha! Nanami who by chance meets his fated Omega after she quite literally fell into his arms after tripping down the stairs at work. She had scent blocker patches and a collar around her beck but even so he could smell her, a scent that reminded him of a tropical beach, like wild hibiscus, sea salt, and sunshine.

Omega! (Y/n) who quickly apologizes to her coworker and thanks him for saving a clutz like her, she’s so embarrassed to have fallen down the stairs and already bothered someone on her first day of work. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me for being so careless, I’m in a rush.”, she sighs quickly picking up her spilled files before rushing off.

Alpha! Nanami who’s hazel eyes follow the woman who has just stolen his heart and watches her disappear into one of the many halls of the building. Well he honestly hated working but if he was being honest he certainly liked it now.

Omega! (Y/n) who is proud to introduce herself as the newest member to the same department that Nanami works for and smiles at him after recognizing him as her savior from earlier.

Alpha! Nanami who tries his best to interact with you in hopes of getting to know you better and test his theory of you being his fated mate. He offers to show you how the work is done but you simply smile and reject his help.

“No worries, Mr. Nanami, I’m actually very proficient at this line of work. If you’d like to add on to my workload I’d be happy to help.”, you smile making his heart swell in his chest.

Alpha! Nanami who scares off any lazy coworkers that try to dump their workload on you since you’re so good at your job. Often times he’s by your side reviewing your work for minor errors, he leans in close, his big strong arm being the main focus of your eyes as you watch the firm muscles tense and relax with each movement he makes.

Omega! (Y/n) who summons the courage to ask her stoic coworker to join her for drinks one day after work after months of knowing each other. You’re frustrated by how big and sexy Nanami is and you’re losing your mind watching him parade around the office in professional clothes that look a bit to tight for his firm body. (Simping much?)

Pre-rut! Alpha! Nanami who desperately agrees to sharing some personal time with his sweet fated omega, who’s so clueless about how much he desires her. He’s downed so many suppressants and scent blockers in the hopes of not scaring you away.

Pre-rut! Alpha! Nanami who’s so protective of you as you both walk to the bar after another exhausting day at work. He glares at anybody that looks your way, a small pretty omega being followed by a scary looking hunk of a man with sharp eyes and elongated canines.

Omega! (Y/n) who can tell from her inner omega that Nanami is her destined Alpha and intends to drive him absolutely insane until he finally confesses to her and starts courting her like a proper Alpha should.

Nsfw Starts Below!

Tw: Breeding, knotting, degrading, 69 position, mating press, oral (M &F receiving), pussy drunk! Nanami

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pre-rut! Alpha! Nanami who drinks way more than he should just to ignore the swelling ache of his knot in his slacks while he hazel eyes stay glued to your exposed clevage in that pretty midnight blue dress you’re in. He ends up stupidly drunk so much so that he can barely walk on his own two feet, you end the night by taking him to your home via taxi since you’re afraid he won’t make it home.

Pre-rut! Alpha! Nanami who practically collapses to his knees once he’s inside your apartment, the whole place smells of you and his inner alpha can’t take it. “Omega~ present for me~”, Nanami begs, hugging your legs from behind while he kisses a trail up your delicate spine.

Omega! (Y/n) who finally lets her instincts run wild for a man she’s wanted for months now, but she’s not one to take orders, no she’s the one to give orders, after all it is the Omega who calls the shots in the relationship and she wasn’t just any normal Omega, she was a rare Prime! Omega. “Alpha~”, you call in a dark sexy tone as you raise your dress up for Nanami to stare at your bare ass and drooling cunt, “Lick me clean, then carry me to our nest.”

Rutting! Alpha! Nanami who loses all sense of reason the moment he sees your pretty pussy hole clenching around nothing, he stays on his knees and plunges his face right into your wet folds. Your coating his entire face in your juices while he eats you out from behind and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Nanami sucks up every drop of your essence, even licking up the slick that’s managed to drip down your inner thighs.

Prime! Omega! (Y/n) who’s practically trembling with pleasure from her Alpha’s fat tongue licking stripes between her plump folds while he massages the fat of her cute ass. She reaches behind her, gripping his disheveled blonde hair to hold him still while she twerks on his face, riding his tongue like an exotic dancer.

Rutting! Alpha! Nanami who allows his Omega to ride his face stupid while he drools like a dog against her folds, occasionally sucking her labia into his mouth before letting go to suck her engorged clit just to watch her thighs clench. His thick hands find the zipper of his slacks and undo it, setting his swollen cock free from its fabric prison.

Prime! Omega! (Y/n) who managed to catch a glimpse of the cock that’ll impregnate her and accidentally squirts against her Alpha’s face out of excitement. It’s a tiny orgasm but Nanami’s eyes blow wide as he laps up every tiny spurt of your cum.

Rutting! Alpha! Nanami whose body in now on autopilot, he’s searching for your nest so he can take you to it and finally make love to you. He’s so pussy drunk already that he can’t bare to part with it for even a second, he stands up and hooks his muscled arms around your inner thighs from behind, and lifts you up into a standing 69. He spits into your pretty pussy than begins to fuck it into your cute hole as if you weren’t wet enough.

Prime! Omega! (Y/n) who wraps her legs behind his head to stabilize herself, her eyes now hyperfocused on the fat cock throbbing against his abs and the even fatter knot that’ll soon have her plugged and filled to the brim.

“Mmm~ Kento. Look how hard you are, fuck it looks so heavy and hot, and it’s all for me, god I can’t wait to have you inside me.”, you purred kissing his heavy balls.

Rutting! Alpha! Nanami who groans and drools precum from his cock from hearing you speak his first name. He follows his nose to your bedroom, focusing on loving your pussy while he tries to navigate through a home he’s never known. He stops midway to let out a deep groan when he suddenly feels your throat pulsing around the head of his cock. You’d taken him in whole like nothing, you happily sucked him off relishing in the groans and squeals that ripped from his veiny throat. Oh you had him seeing spots from how good your head was.

Prime! Omega! (Y/n) who made it her mission to suck his soul out of his cock, deep throating him just to feel him throb against her uvula, slobbering on him just to prep him for the main event, and massaging what she couldn’t fit just to bring him closer to blissful relief.

“Fuck! Stop, p-please stop! I’m going to cum, I’ll waste it. I’ll waste my pups, n-no need it inside you.”, Nanami groaned, unintentionally rutting his hips to face fuck you in this position.

Rutting! Alpha! Nanami who found peace in suckling on your clit while you brought him closer to orgasm, his inner voice yelling at him to move to nest to stake his claim on your body. Nanami trembles with each step he takes while you continue to bob your head on his cock, he finds your room with the largest nest he’s ever seen in his life smack dab in the middle of the floor.

“I-It’s just for me, the right size for me.”, he sobs, holding your head flush against his cock while he bursts with his first load of the night.

Prime! Omega! (Y/n) who sucks his cum out through his cock like it’s a straw until she’s swallowed every last drop. She’s a fucking menace, a succubus in angel’s clothing if you will. Nanami sets her down in the middle of the nest and waits at the edge for you to allow him in, his face is flushed red as are his shoulders from embarrassment. You smile and spread your legs wide for him while you lay on your back, “Come Alpha, breed me.”

Rutting! Alpha! Nanami who almost cums from your permission, he races into your nest and aligns himself with your soaked hole before rutting into you until he’s bottomed out. You both mewl with pleasure to the full sensation of your joined sexes, never before had either of you felt pleasure like this. Nanami feels himself cumming inside of you already but he refuses to be a one pump chump to his beloved omega.

Rutting! Alpha! Nanami who fucks himself into you with the vigor of a wild beast, his lips find your swollen nipples and latch onto them while he pounds his hips into yours. His knot knocks against your entrance but you’re not opened up enough to take him all the way in yet.

“(Y/n), oh (y/n) I’m going to fill you up so nice. I’ll knock you up with so many pups, I’ll work so you can stay home and be absolutely spoiled for the rest of you life. We’ll be so happy together, I swear it.”, Nanami blubbers like the drunken fool he is, unknowingly painting your insides every few thrusts with his fat loads.

Prime! Omega! (Y/n) who can feel her toes curling in ecstasy while her Alpha pounds into her like she was the last woman on earth. He’s fucking the dominance right out of you reverting you back to your sweet persona that you always had at work.

“K-Kento, Alpha, I’m cumming again. Your tip is bullying my sweet spot.”, you squeal, rubbing your clit feverishly with your fingertips.

Rutting! Alpha! Nanami who smiles at your sudden submissiveness and decides to take his true role in this situation. He catches both your wrists in one of his big hands and uses the free one to land soft slaps against your sensitive clit. Each wet slap against your clit makes you squirt a little with each jolt of pain, Nanami notices a masochistic smile on your flushed face as you beg him to keep slapping you.

Rutting! Alpha! Nanami who groans with pleasure as he folds your body against itself until your in a mating press. The thickness of his cock being enough to lift your hips off the bed while he planks above you, his knot is almost able to make it in.

“Open up my little omega slut, take my whole knot into your greedy messy pussy and don’t you dare let go until my balls have emptied into your womb.”, Nanami growls seductively into your ear, watching the way your pupils seem to take the shapes of hearts.

Prime! Omega! (Y/n) who does exactly what her Alpha says, she willingly reaches down to her stuffed cunt and spreads her folds apart hoping to help with the stretch that he’d need to knot her. Nanami smiles down at her and leans down to share a wet kiss with his perfect omega. He lets his hips fall flush against hers slowly, letting his cock sink in just a bit so that half his knot has filled you, he can do it, it’ll fit.

Rutting! Alpha! Nanami who starts to bounce his hips down into your greedy whole while you squealed under him. Happily moaning his name with each movement he made into you. The derogatory praise he moans into your ear leaves you drunk, you love the way he’s fulfilling your every sexual need.

“Bite me. Bite me. Bite me. Mark me as yours.”, you beg hysterically, baring your unclaimed neck to him.

Rutting! Alpha! Nanami who sees your soft neck and plows himself right into your horny cunt knot and all, he’s locked in and he can feel his balls rising with each pulse of fresh seed that fills you. You cry out in both pain and pleasure when you feel his teeth sink into your neck, his mouth isso big that the mark takes up half the left side of your neck and some of your shoulder.

“Yes thank you!”, you cry out, feeling yourself squirt against his knot from the pleasure the pain brought you.

Rutting! Alpha! Nanami who rubs your clit to help you cum some more while he unloads everything he has into you. You’re both locked together for almost an hour before he’s deflated enough to pull out and god he wishes he hadn’t because everything spills out of you like a small river.

Prime! Omega (Y/n) who smiles, already knowing that this one session had done the job, herher Alpha had succeeded in impregnating her.

Bonded Pair! Kento and (Y/n) who spend the rest of the night scenting and marking one another until they both succumb to blissful peace. After years of waiting you were both now whole and nobody could take that away from you.

Happy! Alpha! Nanami who gets so excited to see you all round and swollen months later with his pups. You’re so beautiful that Alpha! Gojo often whines that he’d like a turn with your pretty Omega pussy but your smug Alpha humbles Gojo with the fact that you were loyal you were loyal to only him.

Spoiled! Omega! (Y/n) who’s still a bit of a clutz but is always saved by her handsome Alpha. He is at her beck and call and it drives all those jealous souls wild with envy, plus whenever she’s craving his seed in her pregnant pussy Nanami is always ready to answer the call and fill you up.

You were his and nothing and no one would come between him and his mate, unless they wanted to learn the hard way why he was an Alpha.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: If it’s not obvious Nanami is my favorite and for goos reason ❤️🤤

✞ 666 ✞

“I love that color on you” ♥️

PROM NIGHT

uh.... bestie oikawa imagine ig. pls send me asks guys, i'm actually hyper-fixated on writing rn for some reason.

CW: implied non con, date rape, *ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+*

You and childhood best friend Oikawa promise at the beginning of high school that if neither one of you have a date for your senior prom you’ll take each other.

You didn’t think he was being serious. He was constantly being swarmed by girls, there was no way he wouldn’t be asked by someone. And yet, May of your senior year rolls around and miraculously Oikawa hasn’t received a single invite. You haven’t either, but you’d expected that. For some reason, guys never stayed interested in you for very long. Oikawa said it's because guys don't like girls with hotter guy best friends.

You loved Tooru like a brother, but man was he annoying sometimes.

You didn’t even remember making the promise to him, so when Iwaizumi brought you into the gym and you were greeted by the volleyball team holding painted volleyballs spelling out the word “PROM?” - Tooru standing in the middle holding a big bouquet of your favorite flowers and smiling like a dope - suffice to say, you were confused.

Of course you said yes. You didn’t want to humiliate him in front of his teammates, that would be cruel, so you swallowed your discomfort and put on a grin - accepting the flowers and Toorus hug as his team cheered.

He drove you home after practice that night, explaining his reasoning behind asking you. Something still felt weird about it, though. There was no way nobody had asked him yet. He was the school's star athlete, he had a fan club of women who would give their right kidney to be his date - you’ve heard girls gossiping about who he might be going with or how they would go about asking him. Why wasn’t he taking one of them? Why you?

You don’t want to seem ungrateful. The gesture had been sweet, and he might have just felt bad for you and decided to do you a solid. You decide to write it off as good intentions but make it very clear that the two of you are going as friends.

Tooru smiled, assuring you that he understood.

Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right about this.

He’s extra clingy the next few weeks. You rarely get a minute to yourself, wherever you are he somehow manages to show up - wrapping his arm around you like you’re his property. He also won’t shut up about how the two of you are going to prom together. It only took about a day for everybody to start stopping you in the hallway, asking you all sorts of questions. How did he ask you? What dress are you wearing? Are you and him dating?

You have to admit, it’s getting on your nerves - but Tooru loves the attention. He’s more than happy to tell everybody all about the little agreement you made freshman year and how you’d been so surprised when he asked you. You tried to just grit your teeth and bear it but it was getting hard, especially since you were now the subject of his jealous fan clubs gossip.

Weeks passed quickly and the big day finally came. Your mother fussed over you, lacing up the gorgeous blue evening dress that you’d picked out (with Oikawas help of course). She was finishing up curling your hair when the doorbell rang. You know you should be excited to see him - to spend the night you’d been waiting years for with your best friend - but a pit of dread sits in your stomach. It follows you down the stairs when you greet Oikawa and his mother.

His mother gushes over you in the way that older women do. Remarking that she could remember making cookies for you and Tooru on your first day of kindergarten and that you two grew up too fast. Tooru just stares at you while his mom prattles on - his jaw dropped at the sight of you. It might have made you blush if it weren't for the look in his eyes - hungry like you were something he wanted to devour. He takes your hand to help you down the last few steps - pushing a few loose hairs behind your ear and leaving a kiss on your cheek, leaning toward your ear to tell you that you look beautiful.

It doesn't feel very platonic but you aren't given enough time to harp on it as your mothers usher you outside to take pictures. The pictures were very uncomfortable. Oikawa kept putting his hands far too low on your back for your liking. You smiled through it though, telling yourself that you were just being silly. This was Tooru - your best friend since you were in diapers. He'd never do something that would make you uncomfortable on purpose, right?

Soon enough, it's time to go. The two of you say your goodbyes and hop into Oikawa's car to go to the venue. The drive there is normal enough. You take turns blasting your favorite music, roasting each other's taste in songs, and placing bets on who in your grade would arrive at the dance the most drunk. For a moment, things feel normal. Just you and Oikawa hanging out...

But then you get to the venue.

Almost immediately his demeanor shifts. He's all over you - slinging his arm around your waist possessively, guiding you around the building as if you'll get lost without him at your hip - When you stand up to get something to drink, he goes with you. When he walks over to talk to the rest of the volleyball seniors he insists you come with him. He's always within arms reach on the dance floor, keeping an eye out for any other men who might try to steal you away from him. You can't even speak to your female friends without him hovering over you. It's suffocating, but whats even worse is the touching.

He gets more and more handsy as the night goes on. An innocent arm around your waist turns into a hand groping your ass, during dinner, his hand rests on your thigh for the entirety of the meal, and you don't miss how close he gets to you while you dance - finding every excuse to roll his hips against your ass or nuzzle into the crook of your neck.

By the end of the night, you're exhausted, uncomfortable, and want nothing more than to go home, lie down, and sleep for at least twelve hours. You find out that Oikawa has other plans, however, when he passes the turn back to your house.

Apparently, he heard from Iwaizumi that Fukurodani High School's prom was the same night as yours and that Bokuto Koutaro was throwing a massive after-party. You try to convince him to turn around and take you home, tell him that you're tired and won't be any fun at the party anyway but he won't hear it - he tells you that once you have a couple drinks in you you'll change your mind.

The party is loud, hot, and incredibly overstimulating. The smell of beer assaults your nose the minute you walk in the door, EDM blares from speakers making your ears ring and there is physically not enough space for you to get away from Oikawa. You feel incredibly claustrophobic as Oikawa pulls you through the crowd, wiggling past grinding couples and people taking shots to eventually make your way over to a guy with spiky white-grey hair. He absolutely reeked of weed. He greeted Oikawa like an old friend and Tooru introduced him to you as Bokuto. The stoned man smirked at you, commenting that you must feel pretty lucky to have snagged a pretty boy like Oikawa, cautioning you to keep him away from the other girls.

Oikawa rolls his eyes but doesn't make any effort to correct him.

Bokuto hands Oikawa two beers, mumbling something to him that you can't quite make out through the loud music. You manage to pick up something about a guest bedroom upstairs and to be out by five am.

It doesn't sit well in your stomach.

Bokuto tells you to enjoy the rest of the party with a wink. You don't have time to reply before Oikawa drags you back into the crowd.

He cracks open your beer and holds it out to you, prompting you to take a sip as he drinks from his own. You try to protest but he's insistent, promising that it'll help you loosen up.

So despite your better judgment, you take a big gulp.

Oikawa takes you out to the dance floor, dancing against you to some Kanye West song that you all of the sudden... cant really... remember the name of...

The room starts spinning and you feel yourself fall into Oikawas arms. After that things are a blur. You think that he carries you up a flight of stairs, and you think you end up on a bed because you can feel the sheets against your skin. The bed might have dipped underneath Oikawas weight as he crawled on top of you and he probably touched you in ways you'd rather not think about.

The last thing you truly remember from your Prom night - the night you'd dreamt of since you were a little girl, the night that was supposed to be spent celebrating with your friends, the last big party before you had to start being an adult - is what he growled in your ear as his hand snaked down between your thighs.

"I've been waiting for this for four fucking years baby."

Raquelle💋

Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse

Yandere Greek Gods - Profile

“It’s a waste to be immortal and spend the rest of immortality without you by my side.” - Greek Gods.

❝⚡— lady l: so I started writing the Greek Gods profiles a few weeks ago, just a few left, but I decided to post the older ones today. Here is the profile of Zeus, Hera, Demeter, Poseidon, Hades and Hestia. As always, any mistakes I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to review.

❝tw: yandere themes in general, dub-con, possessive and obsessive behavior. If you feel uncomfortable with any of these themes, I recommend not reading.

❝⚡ pairing: yandere!greek gods x gender neutral!reader

❝word counter: 2k+

ROMANTIC

Zeus is the God of the Gods, the sky, lightning, order and justice and the King of Olympus. He is married to Hera and they have four children: Hebe, Ares, Ilithyia and Hephaestus. In some versions Eris and Ennius. He owns countless bastards.

“I promise to be faithful to you, my love.”

Zeus is a big bitch, whatever kind of interest he has in you at first will be sexual unless you’re a kid, but if you’re not, you can be sure the King of Olympus will try to get into your pants or dress.

Unfortunately you’ve caught Zeus’ eye and now you’ll have to deal with it.

At first, Zeus’ interest in you is purely sexual. You, a human, managed to attract his attention, even if it wasn’t on purpose, and now you’ll have a Greek god obsessed with you and wanting to sleep with you. If you agree to sleep with him, he’s usually expected to forget about you and go back to normal life, you know, behind other mortals and goddess. But that’s not what happened. For some reason Zeus became fixated on you. And he doesn’t plan on going anywhere.

Now if you didn’t agree to sleep with him, things could get more interesting. Zeus will continue to pursue you, perhaps even try to kidnap and force you, but if you can resist him, you will find yourself attracting Zeus’ fascination. No one had ever denied it before. And that will only make him feel more desire for you.

Zeus won’t be faithful to you, that’s a fact, no matter how obsessed he is with you, not even the twisted love he feels for you would be able to keep the god’s insatiable lust for mortals and goddesses alike. But hey, at least as long as he’s having fun with some mortal or goddess, you’ll have a break from Zeus’ smothering behavior. So maybe his infidelity isn’t so bad for you.

“My queen/king, how about we go to a room?”

Kinks: adoration (you adoring him) and rough sex.

Nicknames: my love and my queen/king.

POSSESSIVE

Hera is the Queen of Olympus, wife of Zeus, Greek goddess of marriage, motherhood, wives and women.

“Why did you go to that window?! Don’t lie to me! You were probably looking at your lover! Guess what, I’m going to rip him/her to shreds!”

Hera is the most possessive yandere in the entire Greek pantheon. If you looked outside your room, you probably wanted to look for your lover. The goddess is very paranoid, she won’t allow you to look, talk or even breathe in someone’s direction. You belong to her and if you dared to disobey you would be punished.

There was something about you that attracted her, she wasn’t sure what it was, maybe it was innocence, how easy you could be manipulated, how you could be molded to become her perfect doll. Someone who will always be faithful and loyal to Hera, only to her, is something that she is very attracted to.

In a platonic yandere, her possessiveness will continue, but she wouldn’t hurt you, especially if you’re a child. She could never lay a finger on you.

As much as Hera tries to deny it, she secretly adores you, she knows she is in love with you, but she will never admit it. It is you who has to be controlled by her, not the other way around.

As long as you remain loyal to your Queen, you will be rewarded handsomely.

“I want to go to the beach today. And you’ll come with me. Oh, remember, don’t talk to anyone. I love you…”

Kinks: mommykink (I really imagine a yandere Hera having this fetish).

Nicknames: Darling, Little Peacock.

DELIRIOUS

Demeter is the Greek goddess of agriculture and the harvest. Sister of Zeus, Hera, Hestia, Poseidon and Hades, mother of Persephone.

“Flower, do you want to go see the mortals starting the sowing season?”

Demeter is definitely a delusional yandere, ok, she literally created winter when her beloved daughter was taken from her.

She is very delusional, she believes you are in a relationship even before she greets you. You can be sure she will spoil you, when Persephone is in the underworld, her attention and devotion will be just for you. She knows it’s wrong to use you as a cover-up, but she doesn’t care.

You will not be allowed to leave her sight, Demeter has become very paranoid after her daughter was taken from her and she will not allow you to walk away from her either.

Her delusional behavior won’t change even if she’s a platonic yandere, it might get worse, since she’ll see you as a substitute when her daughter isn’t around. That doesn’t mean you’ll be forgotten when Persephone returns, Demeter will force you into her family and make you love Persephone like your own daughter (if she’s romantic) or your sister.

Demeter would love to teach you about farming if you asked. She would love to have children with you, would find a way to get you pregnant with her baby (if you’re a woman) or get pregnant with you.

Overall Demeter isn’t exactly dangerous, isn’t impulsive and tends to act with a bit of rationality. Just be careful with her, because if you don’t do what she wants, she will act in a way… suspicious.

“What? Don’t you want to go visit Persephone with me? Don’t you want to see your daughter/sister? Well, you’ll come anyway.”

Kinks: breeding kink.

Nicknames: Fower, Little Seed.

OVERPROTECTIVE

Poseidon is the Greek god of the seas, earthquakes and horses. Brother of Zeus, Hera, Hestia, Demeter and Hades.

“Y/N-sea, where do you think you’re going? No, I already warned you that it’s forbidden to leave my temple. It’s too dangerous.”

You’ve probably only met Poseidon if you spend a lot of time at the beach. He rarely leaves his Palace underwater, but after a heated argument with his niece, Athena, Poseidon decided to head to one of Crete’s Greek beaches, and by sheer coincidence (for you at least), you were on the beach. Poseidon was stunned when he saw you. You were so beautiful, sure, but there was something else about you.

Poseidon is overprotective, he doesn’t like and doesn’t accept you leaving his palace or temple. You belonged by his side, where he knows you’ll be safe. Well, safe from others, but not from him.

He will hurt you if he has to to make you understand that the only place you’ll be safe is by his side. Poseidon won’t mind having to kill anyone who tries to harm you by drowning, earthquake victim, or trampled by horses. He would kill even your family if they hurt you in any way, physical or otherwise.

As long as you stay safe you will be able to deal with Poseidon’s volatile temper. He will hurt you yes, but only if it’s really necessary.

“Siren, do you want to go for a swim? Nothing will hurt you.”

Kinks: Anything that involves you being naked and wet.

Nicknames: Y/N-sea, siren.

SOFT

Hades is the Greek god of the underworld and the dead’s. Brother of Zeus, Hera, Poseidon, Demeter and Hestia.

“Why do you want to leave the underworld? I know it’s not Olympus but I can still make it perfect for you, my pom.”

Hades is a god with an inferiority complex, yes I know, but when you are hated by all gods and mortals just because you are the god of the underworld (something that wasn’t even Hades’ choice) you tend to become paranoid and insecure.

See, Hades will never hurt you. He loves you so much and could never lift a finger to hurt you, he would rather kill himself than do that. But he wants to keep you with him, so if you don’t willingly stay with him in the underworld, you can be sure he’ll feed you pomegranates. You know, just so you stay by his side.

You would be spoiled and cared for by Hades, he would be completely faithful to you, unlike… certain gods. Hades would never betray you, he is yours alone and will remain yours alone as long as you want to.

He will also never force you into anything, he would never do something so horrible to you or anyone else. If your relationship progressed it’s because you accepted it, Hades wouldn’t force you to get involved with him sexually or romantically. You must stay on his side, that’s something he’s not willing to negotiate, but if you don’t want to get into a relationship with him, Hades will accept.

Hades is one of the safest options in the pantheon for getting stuck. He would never force you or hurt you, the god can be a little scary at first but you will eventually get used to and maybe falling in love with him.

“Do you want to play with Cerberus a little? You know he loves you as much as I do.”

Kinks: adoration (like, you know, he would adore you all over, taking all his time to explore every part of your body).

Nicknames: Pom (derived from pomegranate), Sweetheart, Soul.

PLATONIC

Hestia is the Greek goddess of the hearth, home, architecture, family, state of hospitality and domestic life. Sometimes she is replaced by Dionysus in the pantheon. Sister of Zeus, Hades, Hera, Demeter and Poseidon.

“Don’t worry, little fire. I’ll keep you warm in this harsh winter.”

Hestia is a soft and gentle goddess, she is the representation of the comfort of home. In the arms of the goddess, you will feel a false sense of security. With her, you know you can trust and just let yourself be heard by the goddess, she loves to hear you tell anything about yourself or something that ails you, for her, that’s the way you show that you trust her as much as she does. you.

The goddess is one of the virgin goddesses and so is more likely to remain a platonic yandere for you. Even if the goddess becomes obsessed with you, her relationship will only be platonic. Maybe if she really does fall in love with you, she’ll try to start a romantic relationship with you, but it won’t have anything sexual. Because of her oath, she will remain a virgin, so you can be sure sex is off the table when it comes to her.

Hestia is soft and benevolent, she is calm and balanced, her emotions don’t control her, which makes her much easier to deal with. She would never hurt you, she sees you as a fragile being who must be protected and loved and she is more than willing to do that. When Hestia first met you, she was immediately attracted to you, a young and naive child and desperate for love, any kind of love, the goddess knew she had to have you. Because of her naivete, Hestia knows how easily you can be destroyed by the evils that plague the world and she won’t let that happen.

Hestia is, in fact, the safest option of the Yandere Greek gods. She is sensitive, gentle and kind, she knows yours limits and that she must not exceed them. The goddess just wants to keep you safe and happy, as long as you are in her arms she will make sure you are loved and cared for and nothing and no one will lay a finger on you. Hestia is a highly respected goddess, so she can be sure nothing will be happening to you.

“Don’t worry, honey. I promise to keep you warm and safe in my arms.”

Kinks: Aftercare. Although sex won’t actually happen, she likes to be cared for and given affection.

Nicknames: Little Fire, Honey.

I'm in my parody mood again. I'm so sorry. You have to attend a yandere school: quite literally, an academy designed to train you into a proper yandere. Except you're terrible at it. So pathetic, in fact, that all the yandere-to-be students and teachers have to help you. And now they're slowly but surely falling for you. Content: gender neutral reader, horde of yanderes, parody

"For the last time, (Y/N)..." the teacher sighs, mild frustration creasing his features. "You can't be a cool and aloof yandere if you look this tense."

"I thought I'm supposed to obsessively stare at my crush from the window", you argue, waving away some cherry blossom petals that were blown by the wind straight into your face.

"Yes, but no one can tell you're a yandere yet. Your gaze must be indifferent, idle, bored. Do you understand?"

You're a lost cause. The older man readjusts your body's position with pursed lips. You'll never be a proper yandere with this attitude. He should be angry about it - Yan Academy dons an unmatched reputation of flawless success. Every student graduates with impeccable results. Well, except for you. And yet, he's almost enjoying the repeated efforts, the daily observations, the additional training you require.

A thought crosses his mind: what would you even do without his help? You'd be lost. You need him to succeed. He shakes his head in embarrassment, swiftly shoves his glasses further up the nose, and coughs.

"Meet me after class. I'll be in my office."

"Again?"

The words escape your lips before you can stop yourself. His brows furrow, and he lifts your chin with his index finger, responding in a deeper voice:

"Yes. Until you learn to act properly, (Y/N)."

“What’re you doing now? We were going to hang out at my place, so we can practice efficient stalking methods.”

Your classmate smiles at you, almost pleadingly. Oh, if only you’d join them. How else will you manage? He can already picture your confused, innocent expression as you try to keep up with them.

You were made to be stalked, not the other way around.

“I can’t”, you whine. “Teacher wants me to stay behind again.”

The students stare at you with a peculiar glimmer in their eye. This bastard…is he trying to keep you all to himself? He should be minding his damn business and leave such matters to people who’re closer to you. They know you better. They’d do a much better job at…training you.

You feel a tug behind you. The classmate removes your backpack and throws it over his shoulder.

“Fuck that. You’re coming with me.”

[More parodies original work]

Pairing ೃ⁀➷ Earth 42! Miles Morales x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷  Forbidden love, mutual pining, eventual angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷  Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ Chapters are a bit rushed, sorry bout that 😭 hope u enjoy tho

Chapter 1: Behind the chain

Warning ೃ⁀➷ Profane language, underaged smoking, mention of death, horrible Spanish. Also, I don’t live in America so idrk how people talk there, so please bear with me.

FIC MASTERLIST

Next Chapter

“Hello? Yeah, I’m at practice.”

As your feet hit the ground, the chain link fence shutters from the release of your weight— a sigh escaping your lips as you pull your phone up closer to your ear. The sound of your aunt's nags echo from your phone, bellowing across the abandoned subway and overpowering even the sound of your boots hitting the damp ground. It was shrill, her voice. Like a fork being dragged down a piece of fine china. Activating the flashlight of your phone, you swiftly slip your head out of your hood, the new spot now staring back at you like an empty canvas— devoid of life and color. It’s tragic.

As you trudge down the narrow space, your senses begin to process the stench of the horror movie-like scenery. You could heard the pipes’ leaking going along with your aunt’s ongoing lecture about something you couldn’t recall— somehow distracting you from your search.

But what certainly made you uneasy was the chill.

You hated the cold. You hated the way it’d ice your feet, dry your skin, restrict your clothes, and clog your nose. Though ironically, autumn was the season you found most enjoyable. Most of the nostalgia you bore came from the sight of those scarlet leaves— the smell of pumpkin spice, your mother’s old scarves, and the earthly rich tones of orange and red. It’d been so long, though, since your last happy memory in the season.

Nowadays, the nights are just longer, and the days shorter.

Soon enough, you stop before a tall, white wall, making you gasp as though you’d just won the lottery. Only then you started bidding your farewells to your aunt, who was beyond exasperated with your hurried adieu. Shoving the gadget down your pocket, your backpack falls right off your shoulder with a small thump, eyes still glued onto the blank space.

You make your way towards one of the seats, settling down your stuff while slipping your vape out the crevices of your sleeve and taking a slow puff— the taste of peppermint flourishing through your lips and covering up the stench of whatever was rotting in the railways.

"You're early." A familiar, sarcastic growl emits from the shadows. You turn around as the light from your phone blinds him, making him wince.

“I missed you.” You playfully answered.

The familiar gleam of hazel blinks and stares right back at you, the same stoic stare narrowing from your comment.

“Sure you did.” He huffs.

In the back of your mind, the same phrase bellows.

Well, well, well. If it ain’t Miles Morales.

It was one night, two months ago, when the two of you first met. You were an utter mess, and so was he— and it just so happened that beneath all that rain, the two of you found each other at the right time, at the right place. Supposedly.

The two of you bonded in loneliness and art. It was almost poetic, especially knowing that the two of you were anything but good for each other.

But you believed that that’s what’s great about life— the reckless things, and betting whatever you have on the line, for a taste of something thrilling. Miles knew how to pull on your strings, and the idea of being understood was still new to you. Still, whenever you do find yourself in the comfort of Miles Morales, you can’t help but ask yourself:

Who will we be to each other?

How will we change each other’s lives after this?

You couldn’t quite tell if it was your gut warning you, or your anxiety just being a little shit, but you knew the time to hear the answers was drawing near. You had no idea whether the possibility mortified you or not.

One thing for certain though, was that you knew you wanted him, and you were willing to take the risk to see him over and over again.

Miles took a step closer, his height towering over you like a tree. With a single finger, he maneuvers your flashlight away from his face with a light push.

"Get that shit away from my face."

“Awe, but I wanna see that pretty face of yours.”

“Stop.”

Cat and mouse was your usual dynamic. Though you couldn’t quite pinpoint who the cat was.

He clicks his tongue, moving away from you to head over somewhere else. A few seconds later, the power suddenly lights up and brings the subway back to life. Miles stood by the power switch, staring right at you as if to examine your reaction.

You straightened your lips and raised your brows.

"Well, you should've done that sooner."

He lazily shrugged his shoulders, approaching you once more yet with more meticulous steps. "Wanted to scare ya." He cooly confessed, earning nothing but another chuckle.

"If you wanted to scare me, don’t look so pretty."

Said pretty boy furrowed his brows, making you grin wider.

"Ay, díos. You're..." For a short moment, he thinks of how to complete the sentence.

You hum. "I'm what?"

".. so fucking unbearable."

"Awe, I missed you too." You smiled in a sickly sweet way while placing a hand over your heart. That certain sort of thrill began thumping inside you again, an unfamiliar excitement that got you staring right at him mindlessly with that stupid look on your pretty face. As Miles replied with silence, you shrugged and pulled the mod up your tinted lips— blowing the smoke away from his face. Only then, you gestured it towards him.

"Want a hit?"

"Nah." He dryly replies. "That's your first step to a rehab, y'know."

A low laugh exits your lips, taking another hit while slowly walking around. "With how fucked up I am, I'm bound to end up in either jail, a rehab, or a mental institution— so," You snap your fingers. "I'm just gonna enter all three of them."

Miles looks at you, horrified.

"M’just kidding. Don't you think I look hot while doing it, though?"

He peels the horrified stare away from you, instead choosing to kneel before your backpack, unzipping the damn thing as though it were his.

"What'chu got?" He asks, a certain twang in his voice that lightened you up. You head over in less than a second, grinning stupidly like a little kid in search of favor. You pull the plastic bag out of your backpack, waving it over his face.

"Only the best for you." You wink. "I just kindly borrowed these from my school's art club."

Receiving the bag from your grasps, Miles pulls out the newly bought spray paints. He furrows his brows at the sight of the bold fifteens printed on the bottom of each bottle, a tag left as if to brag. "Kindly borrowed, huh?" He skims over the bottle, evidently impressed. "Fifteen dollars per bottle? That’s a whole heist right there.”

“I literally just snatched it off the cabinet.”

“You must go to some rich kid’s school or sum. You even look the part.”

He gestures over your well-kept appearance. Your clean boots, pressed jeans, freshly done nails, and fragrant hoodie.

And yet you continued to look at him like he was the crazy one.

"... Miles, it’s called neatness. A basic trait." You stand up, stretching your arms above your head, the ache in your bones subtly easing. "If I did have the money, my art would be in an exhibition, not in an abandoned subway."

He pursed his lips, somewhat convinced. "Touché."

As he unpacks the paints, you stay beside him, watching as he goes through the colors and lines them up in order. You shove your hands down the pockets of your hoodie, humming.

"So what'll you be drawing tonight?"

"I ain’t really sure yet… The Subway logo, maybe." He shrugs, an exhausted groan rolling off his tongue as he stands up. "… I ain't got shit. I'm drained."

"Then why'd you come here?"

"Felt bad for ya."

You smirk. "So you did miss me."

He takes a step back, turning his head the other way. "I sure do find your delusional ass amusing." He mumbled, trying to hide the anxiety gnawing at his throat. You hardly notice it, as you were too busy staring at the empty wall, but Miles was uneasy. Uneasy in a way that he was desperate to hide it.

"At least I’ve got an ass." You airily snap back, silence following like an awkward stench. "Did you bring your sketchbook with you, by the way?"

He then proceeds to go through his jacket, eyes widening from the realization. "Ah, shit. I did... Not."

"Awe." You blandly answered, pulling out your own from the pocket of your bag. It was small, convenient, almost like a notepad. "Well, I've got mine here." You toss it over, which he successfully catches. "They're not exactly as good as yours, but you can skim through the pages to find some inspiration."

The pages spin from the flip of his fingers. Tens of concept art, a few unfinished sketches, and some dabbling in watercolor appeared before him in a flash. As he goes through the pages, you take the moment to have a momentary smoke, straying not so far away just so he wouldn't inhale any of it. The nicotine eased you as it normally did, though now that you were looking at this pretty boy before you, you couldn't help but ponder about quitting. Just for him. Just for the sake of him.

Though the feeling the nicotine often brought you was addicting, his presence hit you harder than any other drug, affecting your system in a way that made your stomach whirl. He was like your favorite cup of coffee— the strongest coffee to ever linger in your presence. Strong enough to appear on a drug test.

It was damning.

Dangerous even.

As the page flips again, Miles freezes at the sight. You take the gadget away from your lips, approaching him immediately as he huffs.

"... Huh."

Bursting in neons of magenta and violet was the sketch you made of a certain vigilante.

"Oh, don’t mind that." You mumble. "That's just some random sketch."

He brings the paper closer to his sights, marveling at your talent. The markers and the ink, mirroring the image of a cat on the run. His pretty lips part, mouth hanging agape as he asks. "You know this guy?"

A hero of the streets, some sort of final pillar carrying the weight of New York's safety on his broad shoulders.

"Well, I've seen him— Prowler, from the news. I thought he looked pretty cool."

Prowler, a name all too familiar to you. How could you not know he was? A man hiding behind an iron mask, a digital purple hologram over the metals, making his silhouette mirror a panther’s. The man was all your father recently growled about, the memory of the heavy morning still engraved into your mind. You can almost sketch it out— The stench of his tobacco, the shrill of his angered voice, and the image of your poor housekeeper silently brushing some broken shards into the dustpan. You remember sitting by the dining table, solemnly choking on your breakfast as you forcibly shoved it down your throat.

Eyes downcast and hands shaking.

"You think he's cool?" Miles' voice tears you apart from the memory. He sounded almost elated, like a child in search of praise.

"Yeah, I'd always wanted to be a vigilante, fuck—" The vape rolls off your tongue unconsciously. "Like, my life is so damn boring, but at the same time, I've got too many responsibilities to handle so I can't do the things I like. But hey, that's life, I guess."

"If you've got too many responsibilities, then what the hell are you doing here? It's like midnight r'now, damn."

"I kinda told my aunt I had practice for band."

"You're in a band?"

"…. No." You deadpan. "That's the reason why I'm here, man."

He snapped the sketchbook shut, sighing as he plucked out the red and purple spray paints from the line. "God, you'd be one hell of a headache if I ever had a kid like you."

"Woah, slow down, sweetie, you're already talking about kids and you haven't even taken me out to dinner yet." You tease, teeth nibbling onto your lower lip as you watch him crumble. He straightens his lips, forcefully holding back a smile.

"… Shut that mouth for me, would ya?" He shot back. "Just shut up."

"Oo, make me."

He pops the lid off the red paint, the sound of a nickel ball being shaken up in a metal can soon following. Without even an ounce of hesitation, he curtly sprays the paint over your sleeve, earning a gasp from you. You quickly snatch the neon pink can and start spraying back, the chemical smell wafting over your nostrils as the sound of your giggles echoed down the halls. A minute later and the both of you began drawing your new piece while being drenched in paint.

"Hey, pretty boy.”

Miles instinctively turns to look at you, as though he prided himself in the nickname.

"I need to do the top part, can you boost me?" You ask, voice muffled from the towel pulled over your nose.

Maybe it was the exhaustion, but he agreed without making a sound.

He kneels, tapping on his thigh, gesturing you to take your step. Taking off your shoes, you cautiously climb over, feeling his hands brush against your calves, almost as if he was readying his stance to catch you just in case you fall. Initially, the pose seemed to be serving you well, but when your ankles started shivering, your hand latched onto his head, gripping gently in panic. Miles, who was, of course, caught off guard, began shaking. You finally took a step down.

"Fuck." You whispered. "Can you do it?"

"Hol' on."

"I think you just need to like, tiptoe a bit and—"

"Be patient."

And you did just that.

He stretches out his toes in an attempt to reach for the top, but he fails miserably. Miles then turned to you, bearing the pout of a frustrated child.

"... Ya already know what to do, right?"

"Mm, yeah."

An irrational thought crosses his mind, and it battles against his rationality like a civil war within the confines of his head. A second later, his lone finger signals you to come closer. You do so, and he looks up at the unfinished crown.

"I'm gonna carry you, a'ight?"

"What?" You blurt out. "Y-You don't have to—"

"Just balance yourself." He skips past your rant. "And you better do it well."

Before you could even intervene, he's down and offering you his shoulder. Hesitantly, you position yourself. Looking over at you, Miles skims over your face in search of approval. When your hand shakily makes its way over his other arm, Miles cautiously wraps his palm over the side of your knee, hoisting you up like a trophy he’d just won.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Y-yeah. Just— yeah." You stumble over your words, raising your hand over to start painting.

You could feel it tingling in your bones. Skin deep, rotting within the confines of your flesh, insecurity at its highest peak. And it shut you up. Miraculously, as Miles would say it. Your weight, your body, your own figure frightened you. It would be a lie for Miles to claim that he hasn’t noticed. But he stood tall, hardly showing an ounce of any struggle— which comforted somehow.

He was pretty strong, stronger than you first thought.

As you painted, Miles stood there in silence. Trying his best to focus on his breathing.

But the softness of your palm atop his shoulder, and the growing warmth of his own over your waist. Miles desperately tried to ignore growing warmth burning his cheeks. He resisted the urge to dig into the softness of your waist, and yet it remained like a taunt— allowing only his nails to grip over your shirt, the thin barrier over your skin. It seemed almost vulgar, how his hand was beneath your hoodie, gripping as though you were his favorite plush. How his wrist was pressed against the curve of your hip. Then and there, within the span of five minutes, the silhouette of your body was forever engraved into his senses, his mind, and his touch.

But no one spoke of it.

"... You done?" He groaned.

"In a bit, hol' on."

You thought he'd start complaining about your weight, but he didn't.

You were somewhat relieved, but at the same time, it flustered you.

And when the little scene ended, you and Miles stood there, backs pressed against the wall as you stared at your new masterpiece. You looked over the chemical stains on your sleeves, glancing at him. "This jacket's pretty expensive, y'know. It cost me like fifteen grand."

His face twisted in disgust. "You'd buy a jacket like that? In this economy?”

"It's a capitalist world we live in."

"No shit."

The two of you share a small laugh, evidently exhausted from the whole art process. It wasn't all that much, but it was based on one of your many doodles during class. The cursive that spelled out Stay Out was painted in an intimidating shade of red, its borders tainted in white and black— a crown of thorns resting above the text. It seemed like a warning, an open threat. Crafted by frustration, but upon its finish, you were eased.

"Next time, we should do something that says 'Eat the rich' or 'Vive la revolución.'" Miles suddenly suggested, jazzing his fingers comedically. You click your tongue. "We might get shot, man.”

“With all that smoking you do, you’ll wither away before the bullet even manages to get you.”

You raised your brows. “Okay, and?”

Miles scoffs at your ridiculous reply, but for a moment he thinks about it— some sort of plan in his mind. Sooner or later, he soon gently raises his palm without a word. You stare at his hand confusingly, “What?” you then asked of him. The boy then gestured over his lips with his fingers shaped like a v, imitating the act of smoking. “Lemme try, at least once.”

“… You’re kidding.”

“I’m being for real, ma, just let me try it once.”

You think about rejecting his request, but the curiosity had you fishing out your e-cigarette in less than a second.

“Okay, but if you die, I’m not paying for your damn ambulance bill.”

“Just uber me to the damn hospital.”

Miles then looks at it, glaring holes into the pen-shaped gadget as though he were waiting for it to speak. After considerably taking his time, he plucks it out your palm and starts a slow sip, the collision of the nicotine and the flavor flooding his tongue as the smoke enters his system. When the heat creeps in, however, he bursts out into a coughing fit.

You snatch the gadget away from his grasp as he groans.

“Careful.”

"What the fUCK—, ain't that s'pposed to calm you down?—" He slams his hand against the center of chest in an attempt to ease his lungs.

"… Did you fucking swallow the smoke or what?" You sigh while taking a sip, the smoke smoothly exiting your lips.

"... You know what? You are definitely gonna die early."

"Oh, darling, don't threaten me with a good time."

“Pu—” He coughs a few more times. “Puta, I almost died there.”

You take your palm and began rubbing small circles behind his back. “You shouldn’t do the shit I do, even if I look hot doing it.”

“Ain’t nobody told you that.”

“… Why’d you wanna smoke anyway?”

“I just wanted to know why you keep doing that.” He groans, staring at the pen in your fingers. “I mean— it’s unhealthy as fuck, hardly tastes good, and it’ll kill you the ugliest way possible. So why do it?”

You lower the pen as though your long-lost conscience re-entered your body.. “… I don’t know really.” You mumbled half-heartedly. “I think it’s what calms me down the most…? I don’t know.”

“… You don’t have, like, normal hobbies?”

“The fuck— of course, I do.” You swiftly shot back. “I just don’t have the time to do them.”

“Then what do you do at home?”

You blink.

“What— What do I do at home?” You repeat, thinking of it to yourself. “That’s a good question, what do I do at home?… I do chores, I study a lot. I-I take care the house.” Take care of the house? Yeah, shit I ain’t Mirabel Madrigal. As your mind short circuits, from a mile away, you could already guess his reply.

“I do that too, dumbass.”

You click your tongue. “.. It’s complicated. The time I usually have for myself is when I’m outside, that’s why I lied that I took up band for extra credit.”

You smoothed out the details of your life, picking out a few small details that were definitely not all that important.

"Is that why you're here?"

"Yeah.”

The boy curved his lips into a slight frown.

“I mean,” You shift closer, sighing as you palm the back your neck. “Sometimes, places like these are better than my own home."

"Places like an abandoned subway?"

“You make it sound like I’m homeless.”

“That’s what it sounds to me.”

"... It’s just.." You run your fingers through your hair, eyes glued onto the ceiling above. "I feel more at home in an abandoned subway more than my own house.”

Miles hummed. "… I'd always thought home would be more of a person," He tilts his head. "Rather than a place."

The silence was deafening, but this time, nothing was urging you to fix it— because there was nothing in need of fixing. You were comfortable, weirdly enough, as you never really found comfort in utter silence.

“It’d be nice to be.. Someone’s home.” You couldn’t help but utter those cheesy words. “I think I’d make a great home.”

Miles fiddled with the hem of his hoodie, holding back the words that echoed in his mind.

Yeah, you’re doing great.

Instead, what slips out of his mouth was: “How the fuck are you gon’ be a home? You’re a whole haunted house.”

“Oh, fuck you.” You roll your eyes. “If I’m a haunted house, you’re a rental where all the drive-by shootings happen.”

“Okay, what the fuck.”

“When you go low, I go LOWER.”

In the end, the two of you simply bursted into laughter, sinking down to the floor to take a seat. Another hour passed and so did a hundred topics. They flew by like the autumn leaves, leaving the both of you unconsciously huddling close for warmth beneath the large scarf you brought. Two birds of one feather, one nest. Easy conversations, light laughs, and genuine interest.

Even when the conversation grew darker, the two of you infinitely felt cosy enough to confide in one another. Especially when Miles spoke about his father.

You listened well, yet there was this ball stuck in your throat that you couldn’t quite swallow. A heaviness in your heart, a stiff feeling in your throat. However, your ears were welcoming. His tone was grieving, but his words resonated with acceptance.

"He used to drive me every morning to school... We'd fight over the pettiest things, and god, I hated it, but looking back, it was better then." He buried half his head into his arms. "I'd rather have him annoying me than have him not annoying me at all."

The words hit you like a truck, leaving you defenseless. In a moment, your walls crumble as these words crawl out your mouth. "... Sometimes, when we're with someone, you can't help but wish they'd leave you alone, but when they're gone, only then you'll realize how much you can't live without them."

Though your words were meant for Miles, you knew damn well that they were also for you.

"... There's some truth to that, I guess."

"Does that mean that you'd miss me when I'm gone?" You tease.

Your gentle gazes collide, and eventually, you see that Miles had softened entirely.

"... Maybe."

“.. Maybe?” You repeat his reply. “.. Should I annoy you more then?”

“You’re annoying enough as you are.” He huffs, pulling his knees to his chest. “I hate you so much.”

“Sure you do.”

You lean against his shoulder. “Hate me all you want. I’ll pretend to believe you.”

A light chuckle emits from his lips, but as it fades, he turns his head, burying his nose in the scent of your hair. You were fragrant, and it was addicting. Slowly, he shuts his eyes and basks in your scent.

Then he called out your name softly.

You hum, looking up at him— the inches between you closing in, cold breaths like white smoke intertwining. His cold fingers dance atop your own.

“What?” You whisper.

His lids were heavy, gaze switching between the pool of your eyes and the plush of your lips.

Then and there, you knew.

But something screamed at you in the back of your mind.

We can’t.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

And you pulled away before your lips could even meet.

"Shit." You cuss, clumsily pulling the phone out of your pockets. Your hands frantically scramble to answer the call, the look of Miles' defeated stare stinging the corner of your eye. "Hello?" You began, hearing the chauffeur's voice ask back. "Ma'am, where are you?"

Your fingers press the side of your phone, lowering the volume.

“We're currently clearing up the room right now. Can you please wait about thirty more minutes? Thanks."

As the call ends, you frantically head off to start cleaning up. Trying to evade whatever had just happened— at least, you try to. It invaded your mind and heart, left you breathless and unsteady.

You and Miles began picking up the bottles, shoving it inside the plastic. You then flung the strap of your backpack onto your shoulder, holding the plastic out to him. "You can have it."

Confusion was scribbled all over his face.

"Didn't you steal that from your school's art club?”

You look up, thinking about it for a moment before shrugging. "It’s their problem, not ours." You grin.

Miles shakes his head in feigned disapproval. "Tsk tsk tsk, eres una chica tan mala."

"Don't start, the only Spanish I know's from Dora."

"Que?"

"Queso."

You shove the plastic into his arms. "No hablo Español, lo siento." Was all you managed to form out of the past few weeks you started learning Spanish. You threw a hand in the air, waving him a fast farewell while pivoting your heel to leave.

“Can’t I walk you home?” A suggestion, and not a demand for the first time, Miles insists “It’s dark as fuck outside, and you might get.. Y’know.”

For a moment, you pause to laugh.

“Are you worried about me?”

He nods. “I am.”

“I— wait, what?”

He took a step further. “I am worried about you. It’s ten o’clock. I think I should take you home.”

Miles looked at you in a way you’ve never seen before. It was unfamiliar, or maybe you just weren’t good at paying attention, yet now that it was materializing before you— It overwhelmed you.

It was breaking you open.

You bite your lower lip, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“… I-I don’t know, I don’t think my dad would like that very much.”

“And I’m sure your dad wouldn’t like the idea of his lil’ girl getting hurt.”

There he goes again, towering over you, his cocky eyes never once leaving your face. Lil’ girl my ass, you can’t help but think. I’m tall, asshole. You just so happened to be taller.

“I’ll walk you home.” He reiterates. Now it’s an announcement, not a proposal. “You can tell me to leave when we’re near. I just need to make sure you’re okay.”

“… Miles,” The way his name rolls off your tongue had him weak, and you couldn’t even tell. “.. Okay, fine— But, only up until the Gristedes down the block. Until then, you go home, alright?”

Your voice was too soft, too mellow. It made his breath hitch, made his neck tense in this already cold weather.

“Aight.”

rq: "Sooo i watched demon slayer s2 and I have to admit that uzui and his gorgeous wives literally stole my heart. is it possible to have a yan headcanon for them (together or separate) please🙏🏼?"

a/n: pls forgive me if these are a little wack, i haven't got this far in the anime so i did some....external research.

warnings: super long bc i got carried away lol, yandere uzui/uzui's wives, dubcon, object insertion, cuckoldry, kidnapping, gaslighting, forced marriage, forced polygamy.

☆ hc / ♡ spicy hc / ♀️♂️ gendered hc / ‼️ dark hc (🔒 virgin hc )

☆ So, somehow or another, you've got the attention of Tengen Uzui. Doesn't really matter how, does it? It just matters that he can't take his eyes off of you, no matter what.

☆ You wouldn't attract attention for the reason he might notice you first, because you're not all that flashy, or at least not like he is--but there's something within you that just makes something click inside him, and he wants to figure it out. But the only way to do that is to get closer to you, and the more he sees you and talks to you and just spends time with you in general, the more you won't get off his mind and the more he wants to pick you apart until he figures out why.

☆ The first of his wives to notice it is definitely going to be Hina, and she'll be the one to find some time to speak with Tengen about it privately. She's the one to reassure him that he has nothing to fear, that she, Suma, and Makio will always love him, and that's when he'll finally talk about his problem openly much to her amusement.

☆ "It sounds like you might be in love, my darling." The comment hits him like a brick to the face, and though he's quick to deny it in the face of one of the three people he loves most in the world, Hina knows it's true immediately and so does he, deep down. But the thought makes him so antsy. If he's fallen in love with someone new, then there's room for one or two or all of his wives to feel left behind, and that's the last thing he wants. He's just being greedy, he assures himself, and decides from that moment on to cut all ties with you for the sake of his wives.

☆ And that lasts for about a week, maybe two, until he's absolutely falling apart at the seams. The girls are the only things keeping him together at this point, but all three of them are so tied up with keeping him company in this rare period of weakness and depression that nothing else can get done. Despite not wanting to go behind the back of her husband, Hina will end up telling the other two about Uzui's problem with you--and somehow both her and Makio will find themselves being dragged along by Suma to go search for you, the youngest insisting that they get a look at the person that's causing their beloved so much heartbreak!

☆ When they find you and sneak up to spy on you, though, the picture is pretty similar to their poor darling. You look tired, sad, sitting by your little campfire all alone, and as if by some strange higher power....all three of them look between each other, coming upon the unanimous realization that they're not leaving without you.

☆ You, on the other hand, have been wondering why Uzui's shut you out so suddenly. You thought you'd made a good friend, and maybe you wouldn't feel so lonely traversing the wilderness all by yourself if you had a mentor to talk to. But after he stood you up when you agreed to spar together and avoided your presence following that, you haven't been able to shake this feeling of rejection that just makes you want to cry out all your frustrations into the night air.

☆ Luckily (or unluckily) for you, you won't have to dwell on those feelings for much longer. Because before you can breathe, a pair of hands are on you and your vision darkens, and the last thing you see is the ground and two pairs of sandal-clad feet approaching as you pitch into it and pass out into unconsciousness.

☆ When you finally awaken, you find yourself laid out on a futon bed, the air of the room warm and your clothes nowhere to be found beneath the thick blanket. But you're not alone, the oldest of Uzui's wives kneels at your side, and when she catches your eyes fluttering open, she lends you nothing but a smile as your explanation and gets to her feet to hurry out of the room. By the time you have the strength and fear-stricken curiosity to get up and dress yourself in the simple yukata that's been left next to you, you can already hear the chatter and clinking cups from the room across the hall, the door sliding open with ease when you finally find the courage to do so.

☆ Light spills out into the hallway, and inside you're met with the sight of Tengen and his three wives, sharing a meal around a small table with a seat left open by his side. He meets your eyes with the smallest amount of excitement, like his heart flutters just seeing you enter the room, and all four of them are eager to welcome you to the spot they left for you.

☆ There's really no room for you to question anything--the three women talk excitedly at you, bouncing from topic to topic so that you can barely keep up, and you're sat so close to Uzui with his arm just barely grazing your back that you honestly can't think straight anyways. It isn't until they get deeper into conversation about a wedding that you start to clue in, along with Uzui's possessive smile as he feeds you and then drops his hand to stroke your thigh. And when he tries to murmur something into your ear, you lean away and scramble to get to your feet without bothering to hear what it was.

☆ This is where the threat of danger spikes the terror in your heart, and when you try to backtrack and insist that though the meal was lovely and you're very grateful, you need to be getting along and return to your campsite. You don't even know why you're here or how you got here either, which you don't dare to mention--but when Makio reaches up to grab your wrist and prevent you from moving an inch, her grip too strong to even try, you know for a fact that something is going on and that you should have left the city while you still had the chance.

☆♀️ "Be a good girl and sit down. We can't plan your wedding without the bride, can we?"

☆♂️ "Are you trying to make me mad, little prince? Behave in front of the girls, and don't be a brat."

☆ However you feel about the situation, you really have no choice. You'll sit right back down where you were, except for being almost half a foot further away from Uzui than before--which he remedies quite easily by reaching his hand around your waist, and pulling you in so close that you practically fall into his lap.

☆ It's clear that you don't have a say. The four of them go on to talk at length about this so-called wedding, with Uzui rubbing and grabbing your thigh so possessively the entire night. Once it comes time to go to bed, the girls take separate rooms from the master suite so that he can have some alone time with you, and the night is spent in quiet horror as you ponder this new development, too frightened to sleep in case Uzui decides to take advantage of you while you're unaware.

♡♂️ And if you're a male, then he kind of will. He's just so curious, he hasn't ever felt this way about another man until you came along. His hand will creep down between your legs, those huge fingers pawing at your cock through the yukata and feeling it firm up as he keeps touching you. How can a man be this cute, how can you make such beautiful sounds as he strokes you that cause his heart to skip a beat? It's too much, if that's at all evident by the way his erection presses up against your back, and he slides it up along your cheeks as he growls into your ear that you're the reason he's this hard. He'll ask if he can fuck you and you'll probably say no, please don't, and he'll jerk himself into an orgasm in part with his hand and part with your ass, and finally leave you alone once he drifts off to sleep afterwards.

☆ The least you can do from then on is hope somebody enjoys all the food and belongings at your campsite, because it's obvious by the second day that you're not going back. Uzui and his wives make you comfortable in his home, giving you access to your own private room and cooking all your meals for you, and it's clear by the way they treat you that your relationship with them and Uzui is different from the ones they have with each other. Whereas Hina, Suma, and Makio are all self-sufficient and take care of themselves and Uzui, they all dote on you unlike they do each other and treat you more like a lover than they do a co-spouse. So there's no expectation for you to work very hard or to try and take on anything yourself, because all four of them have caring for you at the forefront of their minds.

☆ Besides, it's certain enough that the three of them have their own affection for you based on the frequency with which they visit you in your own room. Sometimes it's truly just for some bonding time, but others it's so that each of them can have their turns with you and tend to your needs as good wives would.

♡♀️ They've got their own appreciation for having another wife in the family. Hina visits you the most often, usually just to spend some time with you and chat or read something together, but on her conjugal visits she likes to focus on your pleasure and sit you on her lap, absentmindedly rolling circles into your clit to watch you come undone on her fingers. Makio often needs stress relief, and will gladly indulge in scissoring you to get out all that frustration that tends to build up inside her. And Suma's usually just bored, and will either eat you out or make you go down on her, happy to pull you away from whatever you were doing so she doesn't have to whine for your attention.

♡♂️ As a second husband, their efforts are focused more on "testing your abilities". Uzui thankfully has no problem with them doing what they like with you, and as a result, you'll often have the girls tugging at you to play with your cock or trying to seduce you into fucking them in various spots around the house, sometimes in front of Uzui himself. And he's happy to watch, a smirk splitting his face as you pound Hina's, Makio's, or Suma's pussy two feet from him, your breath lagging as you struggle not to cum too early and waste a good session. Little do you know that Uzui's always at the ready in that case, fully prepared to grab you and split your little ass in two with his cock as punishment if you dare to cum before his wife does.

♡ In Uzui's case, he feels pretty entitled to your body as a whole. He will wait if you insist you're saving yourself for marriage, but if you don't think of that ahead of time or if you're not a virgin, he'll show you just what he's going to do as your husband and as your lover. He'll leave bruises and sore spots just from how strong he is naturally, and no matter how big or tall you are, it's almost certain you're smaller than he is, thus he's going to revel in how adorable you look all snuggled up in his arms while he ruins you in a full nelson. He loves it when you scream, when you moan, when you insist he's too big to fit and when you cry at the overstimulation because he just can't stop making you cum. You make him feel so special and he's reassured that this gift his wives gave him was the best one he's ever gotten, and he couldn't be happier that you get to share his bed with him now. You're much better as his lover than he is as a mentor, anyways.

♡♀️ In the case of you being a woman, the only way to describe his lovemaking is that he's addicted to your pussy. He has to get into a position where he can watch you whenever you have sex, just so he can see his cock as your cunt swallows it up and drool over how it can manage to take every inch of him if he tries hard enough. He's also obsessed with making you squirt, because even if he can't quite manage it, he wants to get the creamiest, sloppiest orgasms out of you that leave his lap soaked and your pussy leaking with both your cum and his. And don't be fooled, he's not finished until he gets to end the night with you seated on his face, his tongue working overtime to lick up all those delicious fluids while you suck his cock clean to return the favour. Though, more often than not, it ends up with him hard as a rock again and growling into your skin, needing to warm his cock with your pussy again to finally calm down.

☆♂️ For a male, he's honestly much rougher. Call him old fashioned, but he figures you can take it, and he loves to see how far you can go before you try to tap out. Contrary to popular belief though, he can already assume that a lot of prep will be needed, so he'll spread those cheeks of yours and stuff his tongue inside to get you loosened up right away. He's pretty fascinated with your cock too, so he'll touch it and play around with it and eventually start sucking at it until he's satisfied with how sensitive you prove to be, before he starts trying to stick it in your ass. It'll definitely take a while with his size, but once he manages it, he's totally dead to the world for a minute or two. It's such an unfamilar but certainly not unwelcome feeling, and the girls will surely be able to tell when Uzui's finally started fucking you when he starts groaning loud enough to shake the walls. He's totally lost in it and won't even realize you're cumming untouched until you start trembling and crying out his name, and by then, he'll just want to watch you do it again as he licks the cum off your chest and teases you for liking anal this much. He'll have to do a little more to turn a whore like you into a good house-husband, won't he?

☆ Speaking of which, the wedding is a non-negotiable part of this whole arrangement. Whether you've accepted Uzui's obsession with you or not by then, you'll still be all dressed up and given vows to read at your private ceremony, Uzui's huge grin almost unsettling as he locks the two of you into your new marriage. And rest assured, it's legally binding--divorce is the only way you'll ever really get away from him if you want to, and he will never let that happen.

♡🔒 And as an inevitable part of the wedding, if your purity is still intact by then, it won't be any longer. Denying him really isn't an option, if you've even still got the mind to try it and you haven't been manipulated into accepting this relationship like it's something normal, because you're married now! You have no reason to wait anymore, and he really can't stand another minute without ripping your clothes off of you.

♡🔒 At the very least he tries to be gentle, despite being hung like a horse in every sense of the word. The only real way to shape you to fit his cock is to break you first, so even if there's tears or a bit of blood he's so reassuring, his hand coming down to stroke your hair as he keeps pushing in and swearing to you that the pain will go away soon. You're such a good little doll, you take your husband so well, and he promises to fill you with so much cum and to make you shake so hard when you finish that you won't even notice the aches and soreness.

☆ Honestly, with more than one person reaffirming that this is all normal, you'll be inclined to believe it more sincerely than you might if it was just Uzui. He's brilliant at making you feel as though your fear and anxiety is nothing to worry about, thus slowly negating those gut feelings you get whenever you spot one of the many red flags in your relationship. Even when he refuses to let you walk around outside by yourself or reach out to one of your friends or family, it doesn't really click that it's a problem as much when you have three other women telling you that it's okay and that they'll be the ones to support you instead of all those other people, they probably don't even care the more you think about it.

♡‼️ However, if ever he needs to really put into perspective how lucky you are to be a part of his family, like if you try to escape or you agress against him or one of his wives, he has a punishment well thought out for you specifically. He'll strip you naked, force you into his personal training room, and fuck you with the handle of his katana. If he's feeling nice he'll undo the chain and just use the hilt, but if not he'll push them in uncomfortably alongside it and watch you cry and shake as he does so. Pray that you don't end up cumming from the stimulation alone, because if you do so while he's reprimanding you, he'll threaten to fuck you with the blade instead since you liked the other side so much. He won't really, but you don't know that. And when he's done punishing you, he'll forbid you from wearing clothes for the next seven days, thereby reserving the right to not only humiliate you enough that you'll never disobey him again, but also so that there'll be nothing stopping him from fucking you whenever he damn pleases, and he can blame it on you seducing him by flaunting that cute body of yours around.

♀️‼️ "This is what you deserve, don't go around saying I'm unfair. Now smile for me....there's my pretty princess. That's what I like to see."

♂️‼️ "Shame you couldn't be a good boy, like I asked. At least you're cute when you're being punished....and I think your ass misses me stretching it out, so maybe I ought to punish you again?"

☆ In the end, it's easier just to accept it all and take it in stride. Uzui is determined to have you be part of his family, and his wives adored you from the moment they laid eyes on you, plus being their captive in some way allows you to remain safe from the demons and other dangers that lurk outside the door of the manor. You may be trapped in this commitment for a lifetime, but if your life is filled with being doted on and cared for and loved, well....it's not so bad. Is it?