Tw.dark Content - Tumblr Posts

Fun under the Sun

SUMMARY: Manjiro Sano, leader of the most notorious crime syndicate in Japan, invited you to spend a week on his private tropical island. There, you'll experience the height of luxury and the depths of debauchery. Will you succumb to the temptations?

Warnings: rough sex, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, deepthroating, titjob, anal sex, gangbang, impregnation, triple penetration, nipple play, creampie, bondage, gags, consensual non-consent

Pairing: Bonten!Mikey x AFAB!Reader WC: 5.5k

You smirked as you passed fellow revelers on the way to the club. You could feel eyes on you as your hips swayed and the low-riding, tight, black leather pants you wore let everyone see just how well they gripped the jiggling globes of your luscious ass cheeks. The orange top you wore was working overtime to contain your heavy breasts, your cleavage spilling out of the low-cut neckline, but the material was sturdier than it appeared. It had to be to considering how hard you intended to hit the dance floor.

You were about to step out onto the street to cross when a limousine suddenly pulled up in front of you. Your eyes momentarily flashed red in irritation before you raised an eyebrow quizzically as the rear window began to lower.

A handsome man regarded you coolly. Despite the white of his hair, he didn't seem to be old, his pale skin surprisingly smooth and wrinkle free.

"Good evening, madam. Forgive my abruptness, but I would like to make you an offer-"

"Save it mister," You cut in abruptly. "I'm not a prostitute and even if I was, you couldn't afford me, fancy car and all. Now beat it before I stop being polite."

The man's face was nearly unreadable, but you caught the slightest hint of a smirk before he motioned to his driver and the limo drove on.

You gave your hair a toss to shake off you frustration at such a lame pickup attempt before you continued to the club. The doorman didn't slow you down for a second as others continued to wait in line. You made a beeline for the dance floor, letting the blasting music envelope you. You lost yourself in the rhythm and press of other bodies.

After several songs and grinding on many anonymous individuals, you had worked up a thirst. You made you way to the bar, brushing sweaty strands of hair from your face. Before you could open your mouth to order, a drink was set before you. You stared at the glass suspiciously before the presence of someone beside you drew you attention.

Seeing the man from the limo shouldn't have come as a shock, plenty of guys had continued to hit on you after you had snubbed their advances. What was shocking was how out of place he seemed in his crisp and pressed white double-breasted blazer, a red handkerchief in the breast pocket, black shirt, vest and white tie. It clashed horribly with the bar's throngs of young people in various styles of alluring outfits, and yet, he exuded a confidence that made it seem like everyone else were the ones who didn't belong.

"The drink is on the house, madam," he said as he raised a martini in salute.

"What are you? The owner?" You asked derisively, knowing for a fact that that club owner was a much younger man who had hit on you several times.

"Yes, in fact," he said before taking a sip from his drink. "As of several minutes ago."

When you stared at him in disbelief, he raised his free hand above his head and made a short cutting motion. Immediately the music died and the patrons began looking around in confusion.

"Come, join me at a table while my men clear the club so we can have a private conversation."

True to his word, the bouncers were ushering everyone else out of the club. Still in shock, you followed him and sat opposite at one of the tables along the wall. It took several minutes for the club to empty out and they sat in silence, youre trying to keep your surprise in check.

"I suppose an introduction is in order," he said once the place was empty. "My name is Manjiro Sano."

Your eyes widened in recognition of the name, but you have not really seen the man’s face until now. He continued before you could say anything.

"Judging from your reaction, I assume you have heard of my active organization. I am currently Bonten's head, but I am not here in that capacity. Suffice to say my criminal life has not been a happy one for a long time. I'm divesting myself from my syndicate. I've taken what I felt I was due and now I find myself in need of a companion worthy of my station."

He sat back, sipping his drink as he let his words sink in.

"Me?!" You were unable to contain your incredulity before it gave way to anger that drove you to your feet. "I told you already, I'm not a prostitute! You may be the infamous Manjiro Sano of Bonten, but I am not scared to defy you. First of all, I have no business with an underworld king like you. I am sorry -"

"Please, at least hear my offer before you reject it outright," Manjiro said as he reached into an inner coat pocket and withdrew a pen. He began writing on a napkin as he continued, "One week as my escort to my private island. You can leave any time you desire, but while there you will experience the kind of luxury few can even imagine."

Manjiro finished writing on the napkin, folded it in half, and slid it towards you, "And to compensate you for your time and company."

You hesitantly reached out and picked up the napkin as you sat back down, unfolding it to find an obscenely large number written on it.

"I can pay even more if that isn't enough," Manjiro whispered in you ear, causing you to jump in your seat. You hadn't noticed him moving around to your side of the table. As your eyes met his piercing onyx gaze, you were surprised to find no hint of condescension, just earnest desire.

You looked away as your cheeks flushed and your heart raced. The napkin crumpled as you balled your hands into fists to keep from fidgeting.

"I-I suppose checking it out couldn't hurt."

***

Manjiro hadn't been lying about the luxury that awaited you. It had only been a couple of days but you were already wondering how you would go back to your normal life. It wasn't like you had lived a meager life before meeting Manjiro, but it certainly seemed that way in comparison. You ate the finest meals and drank spirits that were beyond top shelf. You swam in crystal clear waters and hiked beautiful trails, and surprisingly, Manjiro was by your side for most of it.

Throughout it all you were aware of his eyes trailing over your body but he never made you feel uncomfortable or tried to push himself upon you. He was engaging and attentive, quick to offer up a new activity or service if there was ever a lull in your revelry, though at that exact moment a lull was just the thing you were looking for.

You were reclined on a beach towel that had a thread count so high it felt almost criminal to lay on it. Your aviator sunglasses kept the sun out of your eyes as you let the sound of the waves sink you into a state of deep relaxation. The only thing that kept you from drifting off to sleep was the sound of footsteps approaching.

"You should be more careful," Manjiro said as he stood over you, his eyes trailing down you body and the orange and yellow striped bikini you wore.

You turned your head a fraction to regard him, "Why? There's nothing dangerous on this island and I doubt any of your staff are a threat."

Manjiro chuckled at the notion, "I was referring to the sun. It would be a shame to have your flawless skin damaged by a sunburn. I have some lotion with me. Would you be so kind as to help me with the hard-to-reach spots?"

It was a small request so you didn't seem the harm in it as you took off your sunglasses and pushed yourself up. Manjiro handed you the bottle and you began to rub a hearty squirt of the stuff into his back. This was the first time you had gotten so close in a situation that might be seen as intimate. Manjiro glanced over his shoulder down at you and you felt a blush creep into you cheeks even though all youre doing was running your hands up and down his back. It actually made you focus more on his body and you noticed that he had a supple and muscular build on the leaner side, similar to a marathon runner's.

"Would you let me return the favor?" Manjiro asked as you finished, catching you off-guard. The idea of his hands running over your body made you shiver in a way that surprised you. You knew he desired you, but sex had never been outright stated as part of your deal, and finding yourself entertaining the idea was startling.

"That would be nice," You found yourself saying before you partially snapped back to your senses. "Just mind my hair," you added in warning before you laid back down on you stomach.

Manjiro knelt beside you, and you glanced back at him out of the corner of your eye as you rested your head on your crossed arms. You found yourself once more eyeing his lithe build when you noticed the bulge of his speedo. You must have stared because Manjiro paused and then glanced down at his crotch. Once more he surprised you when he laughed.

"Do you find this embarrassing?" He asked, oozing confidence as he spread his legs wider to display what seemed to be a truly impressive erection straining against the tight fabric. "I won't deny that part of why I asked you to accompany me was a physical attraction. There's no shame in verbally or physically admitting you arouse me. May I continue?"

You swallowed and nodded before turning away to hide your blush. You still jumped a little as his hands began to work lotion into you skin. Slowly the rubdown became more of a massage and Manjiro surprised you again with his deft touch and strong hands. You barely gasped in surprise when his hands squeezed the back of your thighs and daringly cupped the bottom of your ass. Meeting no resistance, he boldly grabbed your ass cheeks, his fingers sinking deeply as he squeezed and spread them. You bit you lip as he manhandled your bubble butt, knowing you should stop him, but unable to bring yourself to do so.

"Y/N, you are the most exquisite woman I've ever laid eyes on," Manjiro said as one of his hands slipped beneath your bikini bottom. Your knuckles were white as you gripped your arms while his fingers explored the deep valley of you ass. Your asshole puckered and twitched as his fingers brushed over it before diving deeper.

You buried you face into the towel to muffle you moan as his fingers slid over your damp folds. He teasingly probed your pussy as his other hand trailed up your body to undo your top. That brought your head up, only for you to yelp as Manjiro surprised you by rolling you onto you back. You could have easily stopped him but the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, it was intoxicating and you wanted more.

Emboldened, Manjiro kissed you while fondling your breast and teasing you pussy. He deftly rolled your hardening nipple between thumb and index finger while stirring your pussy up with his other hand. You moaned around his lips and squirmed with pleasure but as good as his fingers felt sliding in and out of you pussy, there was something more fulfilling you couldn't stop picturing. Manjiro let out a grunt of surprise as you hand cupped his crotch but he quickly recovered and began slowly, steadily thrusting against you hand. You continued manually stimulating each other until his speedo was thoroughly stained with precum and your cunt was flushed and glistening with fluids.

Manjiro finally pulled away, if only to shed his speedo and free his cock to bob in the air. You sharply inhaled as you got your first good look at his dick. You were by no means a virgin but the meaty monolith gave you pause even as you sat up to grasp the base. Manjiro moaned his approval as you brought your other hand to caress his heavy balls.

"I promise you won't be disappointed if you give it a try," Manjiro added, his confidence irrepressible as ever.

You obliged, if only to see the look on his face as you wrapped your lips around his tip. It was your turn to tease him as you slurped lewdly on his cock, making no effort to take more than what was already in your mouth. The shudder of pleasure that shot through him as your tongue swirled around his glans felt very satisfying. You could tell Manjiro wanted more as you edged him with slow strokes with both hands, the remnants of lotion making your hands quite slick.

Once you felt he had suffered on the brink enough you eased off him, earning a look of annoyance that quickly shifted to amazement as you lay back on the towel. You reached down, squeezing your heavy breasts between you arms as your hands spread you pussy open in invitation.

"Give it a try, I promise you won't be disappointed," you teased, throwing his boast back at him.

Manjiro practically pounced on you, barely able to maintain his air of superiority as desire raged inside him. You threw your head back as he spread you open slowly, savoring you like a fine wine. He trailed kisses up your chest, eventually nuzzling into your neck with his ticklish mustache as his cock stretched you more than any other man or toy ever had. For the briefest of moments, you stayed embraced like that before Manjiro's grip shifted to your hips, lifting them ever so slightly, and he slammed himself the rest of the way forward.

Your back arched and you gasped at the sudden intensity, but even more than that, was just how amazing it felt to be speared by his cock. He struck depths that left you quaking beneath him and as he pulled back the flare of his mushroom-shaped tip dragged along your walls until your eyes crossed in delicious agony. Manjiro drove himself forward with relentless stamina as his hands shifted to grab the back of yourr thighs. He forced your ass up higher until his balls were heartily slapping against you, resounding across the empty beach.

"Would you grant me a request?" Manjiro suddenly asked, not even breathing hard as he pounded away at your pussy.

"Wh-what did you have in mind?" You asked before you bit you lip to keep back a sad sigh as he pulled out of you.

"Get on your hands and knees."

You blushed but quickly rolled over to comply. You looked back to Manjiro as he once more grabbed your waist and stuffed you full of his cock. This angle wasn't quite as deep but his pace was nearly breakneck in comparison, causing your ass to ripple with his thrusts while your heavy breasts swayed wildly, your excited nipples dragging occasionally along the towel beneath you. He hammered your pussy like he intended to truly get his money's worth out of you, and you let you head fall to rest on you arms, if only to keep him from seeing how his harsh pounding made your limbs tremble with desire.

As if he could sense your enthusiasm at his rough treatment, Manjiro took one hand from your hip and raised it high overhead. The spank sent a shockwave up through your body and though you cried out sharply, it quickly morphed into a hearty moan. Another spank had you driving yourself into his thrusts, panting and grunting as you met his intensity with you own. Manjiro peppered your ass with spanks, occasionally switching hands so both cheeks were decorated with vibrant hand prints. Each strike made your eyes flare red as you threw you head back, whipping you hair this way and that while reveling in the heady mix of pain and pleasure.

Manjiro's stamina was truly incredible, but your need for release outmatched even his incredible pace. With one powerful slam of your ass, you sent Manjiro sprawling, catching him entirely off guard. Before he could pick himself up, you pounced on him, your eyes dangerously red as your hair seemed to be made of fire. You held him down easily with just one hand as the other aligned his cock with your dripping pussy. The force with which you dropped onto his cock made his eyes bulge and were it not for the sand you were fucking on, he might have suffered real damage. As it was, you seemed intent on riding him into the ground, even as the walls of your pussy squeezed him so tight that he thought you might lift him up with just the grip of your sex.

Though he'd been taken by surprise Manjiro quickly recovered and grabbed hold of your pillowy breasts, aggressively mashing one as he brought his mouth to yourr stiff nipple. Your tit flesh was like dough between his fingers as he squeezed and yourr peaked nipple was nearly as sensitive as your clit under his skilled tongue. Your fucking became more a battle of wills, a race to see whose body would give out first and unfortunately for you, Manjiro's spanks weren't quite the same as a battle with a noob white-belter in karate. Your eyes became lazy once more, and you paused as a wave of exhaustion came over you.

In that moment Manjiro rolled you onto your back and this time he rose to his feet as he grabbed your legs, folding you nearly in half. With your ankles by your head in a mating press, Manjiro slammed into you harder and faster than ever. Your pussy gushed like a fountain every time he plunged into you, and you mewled weakly as his cock repeatedly struck the entrance to your womb. Seeing you tremble as you were overwhelmed with pleasure was the catalyst he needed to reach his own climax and with a powerful lung, he drove himself down and came violently. He made smaller, gentler thrusts in time with each swell of his cock, rocking you almost tenderly as he filled you with delicious and copious amount of his fertile seed. Finally, he let your legs drop limply so he could cup your face in his hands, pulling you into a passionate kiss. You shivered, both from the kiss and the sensation of his cock slipping free of your pussy, hot cum oozing from your gaping hole.

When he pulled away, you gulped down air, still shivering as every touch made your nerves scream. Manjiro laid down beside you, watching you with amusement and an unsatiated hunger.

"So, I take it you'll be staying the rest of the week?" He asked, smirking confidently.

You surprised him again as you rolled over to straddle his waist, before laying your body atop his and kissing him deeply. When you pulled away, your eyes were alight with desire as you said, "I think you need to talk a little less if we're going to make up for all the time we wasted not fucking."

With that you slid down his body and enveloped his cock between your massive tits, working them back and forth to massage his cock back to life with your ample breasts.

***

True to your word, you and Manjiro spent the next several days fucking constantly. You still enjoyed the pleasures of the island, but often while enjoying the pleasures of each other's bodies as well. You even fucked shamelessly in front of the staff when meals were prepared and served to them. Manjiro especially enjoyed drinking fine wines from the depths of your bosom as you squeezed your weighty breasts together.

You had just finished a meal and you were on your knees, coaxing dessert from Manjiro's balls. He sat in a chair, unfortunately distracted from you deepthroating his cock. That didn't stop him from grabbing your head and hilting his cock in you throat before pumping a heavy load into your stomach. When he finally let go of you, you coughed heartily but didn't seem all that upset, you had found you enjoyed it when he got rough with you. If anything, you were concerned with his preoccupation.

"Is everything all right?" You asked as you rested you folded arms on his knee, laying your head atop your arms as you looked up at Manjiro.

For the first time since you had met, Manjiro seemed hesitant. He finally looked down to you with a furrowed brow.

"Do you trust me?"

You picked your head up as you frowned. It was a strange question for him to ask after spending the past couple of days fucking you.

"I don't think I would have let you fuck my ass if I didn't," You said as you playfully rocked his leg back and forth, trying dispel the air of unease you felt.

"What if I told you that I've invited a number of my executives to the island to fuck you for an obscene amount of money? Not only that, but if anyone manages to impregnate you, then that man will win the entire pot of money they have all put forward. What would you say to that?"

You searched Manjiro's face for any hint of tomfoolery but he remained somberly serious. You wanted to lash out in outrage, demand if the past few days had meant anything to him, but as expected of a syndicate boss, you’re not surprised if he use you like he use other people simply for their funny gambling games, foul desires, and lecherous amusement, his executives will place bets on who can manage to impregnate you in the shortest span of time, and the winner will take home the entire pot money. Cruel and inhumane indeed. But you couldn't stop thinking about how he had answered your question with a question of his own. Did you trust him?

"I would say that I do trust you, but if I end knocked up with some random guy's baby, you'll owe me far more than money." You emphasized your words by gripping his shaft and squeezing until it was just shy of painful.

Manjiro's face split in a massive smile as he reached down to stroke your cheek affectionately. "You have my word that it won't come to that, not even close."

***

The next day you found yourself naked, and on your knees with your arms bound tightly but comfortably behind your back. You could hear the murmur of a crowd around you, but they seemed to be waiting for something. You hated to admit but the combination of being made to wait and knowing there were so many eyes devouring the sight of you voluptuous naked body was making you wet and needy.

Finally, the sound of something metallic striking glass rang out and the crowd grew silent. Manjiro's voice boomed through the room, "Welcome gentlemen, I know you are all looking forward to today's event. Before we begin, I would like to assure you that Y/N is indeed fertile and ovulating, as you can read from her laboratory analysis results." There was brief pause and some more murmuring before Manjiro continued, "Well then, if there are no further issues, then for the next twenty-four hours fill her up as much as you can and may the most potent man win!"

Your head snapped towards Manjiro's voice, he hadn't mentioned anything about being fucked for a day straight! It was too late to do anything about it as you were immediately surrounded by a press of bodies. Despite their rush they seemed to have decided some sort of pecking order as two purple haired guys positioned you so you were straddling the one with the jellyfishy mullet while the taller guy with the neat hairstyle you assumed to be his brother considering their similar faces, held your shoulders. They unceremoniously began pounding your ass and pussy. The others satisfied themselves with groping and caressing you, pinching your nipples, tugging your ample breasts roughly, and jamming fingers into your mouth through the O-ring gag that forced your mouth open. You moaned and grunted as the cocks of the two brothers fucking you ground against each other through the walls of your body. Eventually a third cock was forced through your gag which belongs to a man with a lovely pink hair, and your cries were reduced to wet gargles as you were facefucked mercilessly by the madman.

They seemed to redouble their efforts, shifting you again to lay on your back atop a man with a silver long hair as he hammered your asshole while another cock from a tall scarred man with heterochromatic eyes speared your pussy. Someone grabbed your head and tilted it back so they could continue fucking your mouth, it was the pretty man with pink hair again, eventually a fourth man with the purple mullet straddled your stomach as you felt hands squeezing your pillowy breasts together so he could fuck your tits wildly. The bodies kept being replaced by more until you lost count of the number of times you'd been cummed in or on, only that the reek of ejaculate was embedded in your nose and you were starting to feel rather sore all over.

Even though you'd been told the goal was to impregnate you, the men seemed equally content to dump their loads in your ass and mouth and you were soon leaking profusely from all three holes. Despite your initial trepidation, the constant pressure from all sides and the seemingly endless line of dicks plugging your holes was driving you wild. Not because they were satisfying you, but because of their complete inability to do so. It was like an endless battle against foes who tried to measure up to Manjiro but always came up short; every ejaculation was a victory for you. You threw yourself into draining their balls, flexing your lower muscles to tighten your holes, making the men fucking you cry out in pleasure as cum exploded from their cocks.

There were occasional pauses where you were wiped down with a wet cloth and given some water, but the bondage and the rest of the gear was never removed. In time even your stamina began to flag but the men paid your whimpers no mind as they abused your holes and by the time it was finally over you were a moaning, shivering mess that was barely conscious. You were on your side, panting through the O-ring when a hand touched your face. You flinched reflexively but the hand remained and the way it caressed your cheek was familiar. You lifted your head as Manjiro spoke from right beside you.

"Well gentlemen, you've successfully fucked her for an entire day. Thanks to advances in medical technologies, we'll be able to see right now if any of you are going to be a proud papa and win money."

Conception can happen in hours, but implantation usually happens about a week later. The technology Manjiro is talking about directly scans a fertilized egg in your womb and not the hormone called HCG which is only evident after the implantation, making this invention quite handy in their short-timed games.

The gag came off you and though you had to squint and everything was blurry from your teary eyes, you were able to make out a holographic projection above you. As your vision cleared you saw it was a readout of yourself, vitals that was currently updating. An excited hush filled the room as the update percentage climbed toward completion. Despite Manjiro's earlier assurance that everything would be fine, you felt a sour lump in your gut that had nothing to do with the liters of sperm you'd swallowed.

The update reached 100% and groans of disappointment filled the room as the screen flashed negative results. No conception happened. You let your head fall to the floor in relief, barely aware of Manjiro quelling angry cries of protest and ushering everyone else from the room. You laid there on the brink of slipping into unconsciousness when Manjiro returned and knelt beside you. He tenderly undid your restraints and helped you into a sitting position. Your jaw ached from being kept open for so long but you ignored the pain as you spoke.

"How did you know I wouldn't get pregnant?"

Manjiro met your gaze evenly before glancing to the side. You followed his eyes and saw tables lining the edge of the room and many empty glasses atop them all.

"A good businessman always gives himself an edge over the competition. In this case, a little known, fast-acting drug that renders my men temporarily infertile. I made sure they were all dosed by the time they arrived on the island, and slipped more into their drinks as a precaution. By the time they take their wives or mistresses to bed, they'll be perfectly fine."

Sly, loathsome, evil, little creature. You thought. In the end, the proceeds went to his beloved syndicate’s fund. Manjiro looked back at you and his features softened as his hand touched you wrist where the marks of you bindings were vibrant and red.

"Are you all right?"

"I'll be fine. Give me a few hours and we can go back to having some proper fun."

You laughed at the look of surprise on Manjiro's face. "I haven't had a proper orgasm in twenty-four hours, you'll have to work hard to make up for all that wasted time."

***

It was the final day of your arrangement and Manjiro and you had spent every waking moment entangled in each other. You were sitting in his lap, bouncing madly on his cock as he split your ass, your hefty bottom clapping loudly. Manjiro had his face between your breasts, which easily obscured his whole head as he moaned with abandon. You ran your hands through his hair before pulling his head up so you could latch on to his lips. As you kissed deeply, you slammed your ass down and was rewarded with an explosion of heat deep in your bowels. You rocked your hips to wring every last drop from Manjiro's cock before resting your forehead against his and sighing contentedly.

"What would you say to extending your stay with me?" Manjiro suddenly asked as you sat in each other's embrace.

"Mmm, how much longer?" You responded huskily as you flexed your floor muscles to squeeze and massage his cock in your ass, hoping for another round.

"Forever."

“…”

"Marry me, Y/N. Stay by my side here, for the rest of our lives, and bear my children."

…

“I am sorry Manjiro, this was not part of our deal” You leaned down to kiss him as he laid you down and then moaned as his cock surged to life in your asshole. That moan became a sad sigh as he pulled his cock free.

…

Silence bounced, fell off his tongue and sat between them and clogged his throat. It slaughtered his trust. They exchanged blind words, and he did not cry, he did not beg, but blackness filled his ears, blackness lunged in his heart, and something that had been good, a sort of kindly oxygen, turned into a gas oven.

Manjiro chuckled dryly as you lay both down basked in the afterglow of your sex, “Just kidding.”

PART TWO!!! Yandere Boarding school thoughts... (Gender Neutral)

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Multiple yanderes, non-con touching, dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, bullying, masturbation, aphrodisiacs, general perversion, dry-humping, voyeurism, controlling behaviors, typical yandere stuff, breeding, smoking, horny posting.

(AN: Part Two has arrived! Mmmmmm, old men.)

Part 1

Background: Thinking about a Headmasters child!Reader at a private boarding school. For a Fem!Reader, perhaps you're just visiting daddy for the season while he's running the school, or maybe you've been bad, and need more supervision. For a Masc!Reader, it could be the same case, however, with Ridgemoore Academy being an all male school, this makes it easier to imagine a world where reader is allowed in the school. Now, let's focus on the faculty...

◇ Mr. Joel Murphy, who teaches the majority of the 'life skills' classes at the school. The school being all-boys is very traditional, and teaches things like game hunting and orienteering, which is why they hired a manly-man like Joel. If only they knew what a bitter grump he is. An ex-sheriff of the nearby town, he decided to leave the force after realizing there was no real crime in the small, privileged town, and decided to take up an easy job at the school. Unfortunately, he realized his love for camping and hunting is warped into what he considers 'frilly shit for rich little boys'. He's gruff, barking out orders and easily been exasperated at the sheer incompetence of the boys.

"Shoot one quail, and these boys act like they killed a bear..."

He thought about retiring from yet another job, as living on the ritzy campus just doesn't feel like home to him, and lord knows he's not fond of his job. However, things change when you arrive. Whether you're a delinquent or a little more sweet and obedient, he likes you. If you're a delinquent, he likes seeing a little hell-raiser kick up some shit at the fancy school. If you're sweet or shy, he gets protective. Nice youngins' like you shouldn't be thrown in amongst these spoiled weasels.

He's sure to help you if you need it, a gentle hand on your back as his burly chest presses against your shoulder blades, adjusting your position against the butt of a rifle. Standing by while you're on hands and knees trying to light a fire, making sure none of the boys are trying to get a look at your assessts. Not that he isn't going to, but he justifies it to himself as just making sure your school shorts/skirt is regulation. He's protecting your modesty. After class hours, come to him with any issues, or shit, even his room. He'll put on some coffee and ask you to help him create a curriculum that 'reaches the kids', as your father instructed him to. It's cozy, the fancy school adnorments thrown away for medals and plaques, national parks posters and a few old family photos. He'll keep you tucked in on his warm couch while he strays from curriculum talk to stories of his time in the scouts and on the force. Tells you about how much he loves just... laying out under the stars with somebody special, to sit around a campfire with friends, then slyly ask is you've ever had somebody to do that with. He knows you're younger than him, and he struggles with the idea that you won't want him cause of it, so for now, he'll bask in the feeling of seeing you curled up in his room, keeping the idea of picking you up and having you accept his cock to himself. If you can get pregnant, his fists his cock to the thought of that too. He's not some horned up boy, he wants you in the long term.

He looooooves the yearly orienteering final, in which the students in the class are made to go on an actual camping trip. It's possible a tent will 'accidentally' go missing, leaving you to bunk with him. Don't worry, nothing bads gonna happen while you've got this burly bear of a man practically spooning you, warm gut from his dad-bod pressed against you as he tries his best to make sure he doesn't scare you.

"Sorry those damn boys left your tent back at the school, kiddo. I... wouldn't be suprised of one of them did it on purpose, little bastards." He grumbles, hoping you'll take the hint to separate yourself from those immature preps and stick to being with a man who can treat you right. "Remember that lesson from a couple weeks ago, on body heat? I know it's awkward, but we've only got one sleeping bag. You feel like you can trust this old man to keep you warm?" Unfortunately for his ego and trying to keep down his urges, the trees aren't going to be the only wood in the morning.

◇ Mr. Paul Burton, head of the arts department. He's so over this, a once decent artist who dabbled in pop art and theatre only to stop getting gigs and be black-listed after offending several more famous artists, calling their work 'sell-out chic', he's now a burn-out who smokes and ignores his students all class. He's passionate about art, but frankly he doesn't want tow aste his time teaching when he knows these rats are taking his class for easy credit. He's only teaching here to utilize the facilities and studios so he's not living in a van in the Walmart parking lot. A mix of hippie culture, live and let live and cynical burnout, he's so. Fucking. Done. But... maybe you change that for him.

You're interesting, a headmasters child who doesn't fit in to your fathers perfect mold? Maybe a rebellious student who goes against the grain of this perfect school. Or a blooming ray of sunshine in this dark den of privilege and conformist curriculum for the future lawyers of the world. Either way, he's found a new muse. See him after class.

He'll be thrilled if you're into art, let him guide you. Tell him your favorite artists and he'll tell you when he threw up on there shoes by accident in his hey-day. Gossip about a student you don't like, he'll listen while he smokes and tell you about how that guys mom hit on him. He loves to gossip, but he loves to watch you create more. The way your hands shape a vase or brush across a canvas light a fire in him he hasn't felt in a while. He's more willing to forgo the age gap between you, while it's never something he considered before, he knows he's not gonna let go of the one thing that makes him feel like he lives again. Besides, he's always been unconventional.

He'll have you stay after class, maybe he'll have you pose nude for a painting, assuring you it's fins, it's platonic, it's just for the love of art. He chooses and extra large canvas, it lets him paint while he relieves himself as you explain you're getting cold. He'll put on some artsy, silent, black and white film from the 30s, and while you watch and slowly realize it's pornographic, He'll grin to himself while he watches you flush. He'll ask you all sorts of questions about your thoughts on the film, the actors, what they're doing. He really wants to figure out how experienced you are. "What do you think of the composition? It's really carnal, you know?" He puts out his cigarette. "I'm glad I can show this to you, you'll actually appreciate it. You're not giggling like an idiot when some guys penis is out on the screen." He groans, thinking of his other students.

He does actually like one student, though they make an odd pair. Joseph's easily spooked and shy personality clashes with the brash older man's, but he's glad to have someone he can think of as a protege. Someone who loves art as much as him, but get isolated for it. He was doing a portfolio look over when Joseph accidentally turned in the wrong folder. Joseph feels like he might die as Mr. Burton, a man he admires, flips through nude pictures of the object of his affection, and at a distance no less. A part of him wants to rip it away, but he needs this scholarship.

"Please, please, sir! I-I'll never do it again, it was just a phase, I didn't mean for you to see-"

"They're good." Mr. Burton flips through the folder. "Real good. You could really get somewhere with these, maybe not in the fine art scene, but... tell you what." He adjusts his glasses and leans forward on his desk. "We'll do a special session, you and me, yeah? I'll get your friend here, and I'll vouch for your integrity so you can take some less-" he purses his lips. "Stalker-ish pics- Jesus, kid, is that taken from a tree?"

☆ Anatoli Sidorov, probably the best paid staff given how they got him here. He's a Russian coach for a former Olympic Russian swim team, and he joined the prestigious American school to escape shame after he 'resigned' post a doping scandal which he swears he wasn't involved in. (Whether he was or not is your choice.) Still, he's led the boys swim team and track team to nationals several times, and he's a legend among the wealthy benefactors of the school. He's outwardly very serious, hard on his team but respectful of them. He doesn't put up with any unruly or unsportsmanlike behavior from his boys, at least not what he can see. He's very nice deep down, intellectual and funny, though he still struggles with American humor and English.

He adores you when he meets you, milking about with the other students before class. You seem genuinely social, and wanting to fit in. The idea someone could be so welcoming warms his heart. Deep down, he misses his home, and he misses the friends he once had. You're warm, and he likes that. Not to mention, you're a looker. He's embarrassed, especially if you're male, seeing as he never considered swinging the other way, and much less with someone younger. But he can't help but stare when your pretty tits bounce as you run, or the way those jogging shorts hardly conceal your bulge. He even pulled you to the side one to scold you for not wearing regulation gym clothes, before realizing they were and awkwardly sending you back into class. That was a moment of self-reflection for him.

He's not necessarily outwardly softer to you, you might even think he doesn't like you, given that he has you stay late to run or jump rope, or constantly pulls you into time out mid-game. It's all for your own good, trust him. He doesn't like the way some of the boys were looking at you, and he could tell Evan was a only a play away from trying to practically hump you while trying to 'get the ball'. He's made Harrison, who he loves as a player, run laps for talking to you for only a few minutes. He hates feeling like a jealous boy, but he can't help it. You make him feel young.

He establishes a private locker room area for you, since you're the headmasters kid and not an official student. Besides, you're clearly being harassed by the others! So, he's got a nice little closet for you, with a not suspicious air freshener that's not a hidden camera, and a private key only you have access to. (Technically that's true, he just has a bypass key for himself.) He'll snatch a pair of boxers or some panties, slipping them into his track coat for later. Eventually, he'll tell you he's worried you aren't able to catch up to the others, given that you arrived later and started the gym curriculum later than the others. He'll start having extra 'make-up' workouts with you, starting with stretching. One leg uo on the bar, you'll have to excuses his cold hand running along your thigh, or stroking over your chest as him just admiring how your strength and flexibility is evolving. He relishes the feeling of your body on his, groping you under the guise of training and resisting the urge to just slip aside your gym shorts and veg you to take him.

"Little star, part 'dem a little, there ve go." He keeps your legs parted as he works you into a position on your back, against the rubber mats the tumbling team had laid out. He lays just over you, pushing your legs back a little further with his arms, just far away enough to keep you from noticing his hard on, but enough to lightly press it against the plush swell of your ass. Good, let's just- fuck- hold. Let's hold."

☆ Kory Koffman, English teacher and part time librarian! The school outs so much effort into sports, both admin and students seem to forget about him. Hell, the library is used so little they fired the librarian, and he took it upon himself to try and care for the building himself. He's a sweet, shy man, who just wants to share his passion for literature with others. However, unlike Mr. Burton, he was never popular or famous, so he's content to keep to himself, but the loneliness does get to him.

When you wandered into his library one day, maybe looking for a book or seeking refuge from a hoarde ofadmirers, he was happy to welcome you into his little safe haven. He'll give you some warm tea from the little coffee machine he has set up, and sit you down. Let him help you find a book, or tell you about his creative writing class? He'd let you join, even late in the semester! It's not a very full class.

For the first time in his life, he finds himself craving the attention of another, of someone else's company, other than his books. He hasn't felt that need for connection since he was a boy, after his momma passed. He'll do anything to keep you there, and if reading isn't your thing, much to his chagrin, he'll add a DVD section to the library, but only good films and classic for you! No Adam Sandler, those movies are to overstimulating for poor Mr. Koffman.

As his feelings turn romantic, he's ashamed. You're a student, and he's a lonely old man, you deserve someone better, someone your age. However, the thought of you being with any of the many students who mock him in the halls or disrupt his class, the thought of hand you over to those-those imbeciles, hurts him. He wants you, and he's ashamed at the way his trousers go tight when you bend over to get a fallen book, or when you hand him his glasses after he misplaced them (again), the fact he just stares at your finger prints for awhile and refuses to clean the lens. He's not had sex in a long, long time, but he finds himself masturbating more than he ever did when he was younger. He'll watch library security footage openly, moaning and whimpering at his desk with no fear anybody will stop in, no one ever does but you. He wants you as his spouse, you already make his library, his home away from home seem brighter, imagine what you could do for his actual apartment.

"Oh, hello! It's good to see you, it's been a bit." He's a little bitter at that last statement, but adjusts his glasses and continues. "Just remember to stop by often, okay? I'd really, really hate to impose the late policy on you..."

☆ Atticus Critch, the schools latin instructor and head sponsor of student body, (not to mention the man in charge of detention), is a strict disciplinarian. He takes no nonsense from anyone, and despises the behavioral pardons given to boys like Evan or Harrison simply because they are athletes. Peter is obviously his favorite, and when he catches wind of the ways the boys around campus are speaking about you, he decides to take it upon himself to remove the distraction, by having Peter trail you and give you detention for minor inconveniences. Peter isn't particularly thrilled at always having to send you to detention instead of extorting you to get his rocks off, but he's hoping maybe he'll get to 'monitor' detention one of these days.

Initially, Mr. Critch has you doing small tasks, writing lines or organizing things, but soon he starts to see the appeal. If you're a good student for the most part, he's determined to keep you good, and away from all the vermin in this school. If you're bad, he's had plenty of experience in taming brats. He's open with his sexual desires, it his growing affection for you that makes him struggle.

If you've stayed out too late and broke curfew, you can spend detention on your knees, suckling his cock into the late hours. Maybe you've been running around with Tyler. He'll make you lay down on his desk and deny you your climax over and over again, asking is not making you cum is what that boy does to you, never fully satisfying you. He'll make you beg to finish, and to promise you'll be good from now on.

"Come on, repeat it. Tell me you'll be good now, that you won't bother with BOYS-" He annuciates with a thrust, "When you have a man right here, whose willing to take time out of his day to discipline you!" One the amorous session is over though, he definitely softens, trying to prove he's more than a boy in many ways, including good aftercare. He'll dress your limp form back up in your uniform and walk you get you a cup of water from the fountain. "Only ten minutes till your detention is over, dear. Just sit there, take some time to reflect on how you got here." His tone is demeaning, but as he pets your scalp, his touch is so feather-light. Don't expect is to last into the next day though.

LUCIFER.

his fall was not from grace, yet in his descent, he found freedom—a kingdom of his own making, where he rules not with light, but with the shadows it casts. and you, unfortunate soul, are the sin that fuels his eternal reign.

♱ genre. gothic, dark romance, smut, angels/demons au, 18+

♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader

♱ tags. 5.2k wc. this fic will contain dark and twisted themes. please heed the warnings and proceed with proper discretion. demon!sylus, sylus is ooc, not set in lads universe, profanity, heavy sacrilege/blasphemy, catcalling, sadistic undertones, noncon/dubcon, toxic relationships, corruption, sex in church, dacryphilia, mentions of obsession, allusions to stockholm syndrome, yandere, fingering, unprotected sex, explicit smut.

♱ notes. this is an old rewritten/reimagined fic of mine bcos i saw a theory abt sylus being a demon. and coincidentally, rewatching a season of lucifer only made my brain rot tenfold D; so if you've seen me post this fic before with another character, pretend you didn't >:D

Thunder grumbled as a flash of lighting struck through the dark blanket of twilight skies. The rumbling sound angrily resonated through the stretch of clouds as if the heavens were to wash away human sins that have long been plaguing this era of the 21st century. A shower of rain soon followed that started in huge droplets and later cascaded from the slate gray clouds like waterfall. 

Checking your old leather watch, it was only 6PM. It had been two hours since the power outage doomed the whole neighborhood because the utility poles were severely damaged after the hurricane ravaged the city yesterday. 

The thick soles of your boots landed heavily on the tessellated sidewalk with every step, holding your umbrella closer to seal you from the heavy rainfall. Your eyes followed the beads of rain that bounced off the cold cement as your mind wandered further than where your body could take you to. 

You had left Sylus sleeping in bed back in your shared apartment so you could walk around the city and drop by the church. It wasn’t like you sneaked out, but was only reluctant to let him know of your whereabouts because you didn’t want him to follow you around, especially to such a scared place like church. Before you left, however, you did ensure that his silver cross was still enclosed around his collar just for your sanity. 

It had been a while since you last visited the church. With the power out and nothing else to do, you decided it was the perfect time to visit the cathedral where you always made your most solemn prayers.

The streets were still in shambles, though. Road signages were sprawled on the sidewalk, branches were barely hanging off the trees—the city had vestiges of wreckage from the hurricane that emptied a usually busy metropolitan area today. Most people were still at the leisure of their homes as work and classes have been suspended until further notice, for everyone’s safety and to allow the government to clean the roads. 

You could already imagine Sylus shaking his head at your resistance to just stay indoors and simply be with him. The only reason you were confident to leave his side today was because it had been awhile since the last incident. You could live with the thought of coming back home to Sylus and his usual self. Sylus, who was always thoughtful and tenderhearted albeit his dominant exterior. Never did you think that you could land a man of such warmth—a year in two days—but how you met was a story made for another day. 

Amidst the already dismal atmosphere outside, stepping by the narthex inside the baroque church greeted you with an even more caliginous surrounding. Darkness enshrouded the interiors of your chosen place of worship with only as much as three paschal torches by the apse to light up the altar. Still, with God’s presence, your feet carried you in slow footsteps along the velvet red aisle as you made your way towards the nave. 

You were alone in the eerie cathedral, but fear did not consume as you were in attendance to the crucifix above the high altar. This was your favorite cathedral among all the others in the city simply because of its gothic Victorian architecture.

Fixed with the cathedral’s grandeur and bedight with ornate decorations, you became more comfortable at situating yourself by the pew—genuflecting on the elevated wood behind the stretch of oak benches as soon as you found your usual spot. 

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,” you whispered in sotto voce, performing a sign of the cross with your eyes glued to the crucifix that represented Jesus Christ. You had your elbows propped atop the bench as you silently prayed. 

Loving and gracious God, with all love and mercy, we thank you for blessing us with another day and protecting us in times of natural disaster. 

You wanted to ignore the unusual cold air that slithered on your skin in horripilation. Your prayer resumed despite the Stygian gloom that darkened the cathedral’s interior or the sound of the harsh wind slamming through the towering doors by the vestibule. The storm is coming again, you mentally noted. 

With your grace and kindness, Lord, I pray that you will continue to guide us—

The manly fleer echoing through the vacantness of the church made you halt from your recital. “I knew my cute church girl would be here.” 

You knew that devilish voice all too well that it had you shutting your eyes, petrified. No wonder the air felt sinister. But if your gut-feeling about him was right, then there was no need to be frightened. “Sylus, I’m in the middle of a prayer,” you hushed, although before you could turn around to face his silhouette, he had already transported to your side with a wicked smile plastered on his pallid face. 

“I’m not him,” he spoke in an orotund voice, stepping closer and closer. His ash blond hair did not hide his incarnadine eyes. “Stop looking for that runt when you’re with me.” 

You stepped out of the pew with a rapid heartbeat, standing by the aisle as the tall man towered over you. “S-Sylus, where’s your—” you searched for his silver cross and found it still hanging around his neck, “did you break it?” 

He glowered at your accusation. “You know I would if I could, sweetie.” 

You exhaled a deep sigh. This was not Sylus, this was the malevolent demon inside of him. You ought to be cautious of yourself. “Okay, well... Leave me alone. I’m praying.”

“Ordering me around?” Each step that he took reverberated across the cathedral. He stretched his head from side-to-side in a manner that showed his ennui. “Don’t you miss me, kitten?” 

There was no stopping to the loud thumping of your heart as you stood along the aisle with Sylus backing you off further to the center. “Sylus, I said not now,” you begged, but he refused to listen and only wiped his lower lip with his thumb. 

“I hate it when you make me wait,” he muttered, stepping forward until your lower back hit the credence table at the altar. You found yourself trapped in a decreasing distance between yourself and the sadistic devil in front of you. “Don’t look so scared. We do this every time.” 

“I’m not scared, but...” Your voice was getting softer, yet filled with fret. You pressed a hand on his chest as he locked your body with both arms around the table. “Please, not here.”

You had to be firm, you just had to be but you couldn’t muster the courage to fight back in Sylus’s presence. He was the embodiment of power and you were the representation of weakness. 

He was a demon that thrived on sin, and he drew strength from indulging in the seven deadly sins. Vainglory, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath, sloth—all of those fueled his existence. Today, however, it was the third sin that consumed him, the one that ignited his darkest sexual desires. 

“I’ll be quick,” he bargained, undoing the upper buttons of your dress despite your failed attempts at pushing him away. Doing it at such a place! You sent him a glare but he only returned a sly smile. “How about we show your God what you’re really like underneath that maidenly exterior, hm? Show him how dirty you really are?”

God, help me. You desperately shook your head, now overthinking if someone could see what he was about to do to you in this holy sanctuary. Long before you could cover your chest, he already pinned your wrist on the side as he lowered the fabric to show your collar. “Sylus—!”

“Don’t be shy, kitten,” the whisper he sent through the shell of your ear caused shivers to your spine. With his heightened senses, he placed his mouth on your ear, “No one’s here to watch us except for your God. Be a good girl now.”

You tried to push him once more to no avail as he sucked on the flesh above your shoulder. There was no warning to prepare you from the sudden harsh suction. “I-It hurts!” 

Your nails dug into your palms to leave crescent marks on your flesh while you were squirming out of his strict hold. 

“It hurts? Good.” He continued to leave marks all over your flesh as he caged your waist around his arm. The feeling of his teeth pricking your skin had you whimpering in pain, and his eyes had grown rutilant when he momentarily pulled away to look at you. “You’ll hurt even more,” and then he erupted into a deep chuckle as if you were a meal that he was seasoning with a sprinkle of fear, “I should really just keep you for myself.” 

Your desire to breathe grew exponentially. “I’m not yours.” 

A low sneer and a dissatisfied ego had you pressed against the oak table in surprise. “Yes, you are,” he reiterated as though he was enforcing the idea in your head. “Your soul, your heart, your body—you are mine.” 

“I’m not! I wasn’t born in this world to be your property,” you protested, pulling away from his grip only to be slammed harsher on the table. You knew you should never anger a demon but his possessive nature irked you. Aside from your already shameful situation, you wanted nothing but to get away from him. “You’re evil.” 

“What makes you so brave? Your beliefs?” he gritted, reaching for an object near your head that turned out to be the Bible. “This?” he quickly opened the sacred handbook and ripped the pages in front of your very eyes with a distasteful smile. How easily he ripped it, how easily he also tossed it. “Whatever, then. There’s no God. You humans are complete idiots for worshiping a nonexistent being. Weren’t you the ones saying that I’d burn as soon as I stepped into a church?” 

“He is your father!” You sat back up, revolted by his blasphemy. He had no right to mock God like this. “Don’t taint my beliefs with yours. My faith in Him is stronger than you think.” 

“You should know what it’s like to be in hell before you say that shit,” he retorted, placing his lips back on your ear, “I’ll take you there with me.” 

This is not the time and place! What a shameful situation he was putting you through, so unbelievably shameful and obscene that you couldn’t look at him in the eyes. “Sylus, I swear. I’m going home if you’re gonna keep on—”

He huffed, showing boredom by dismissing you with a wave of his hand. “Ah, fine. You’re boring. Continue the prayer, then.”

For one of two things; first, Sylus would never let you off easily. Every act of defiance would garner you a punishment. Second, he was a time bomb. You never knew when his most cruel intentions would come to show. He was a malefic being that wouldn’t give two shits about where he was as long as he was having fun at torturing your soul. 

You should have known that when you chose to finish your prayer back at the pew. Sylus would simply not last long enough to just sit by your side in his apathy. 

“Holy Father, please forgive us for our sins—”

He snorted in ill-humor. “Pitiful.” 

And while you sat there looking up at the crucifix, Sylus’s hand was already sneaking its way under your skirt. His icy fingers traced your inner thighs until he reached your center, and that was when you finally grabbed his wrist to stop him with wide, scandalized eyes. Was anyone on the qui vive to see you right now? 

“Sylus, for heaven’s sake,” you hissed, pulling his wrist away but his slender fingers were already coordinating motions against your clothed core. You had to look around in panic lest there be any unknown audience peeking from the shadows. Despite your refusal to submit, the contact was eliciting suppressed moans out of your parted lips. “Y-You’re insane. This isn’t the place.” 

His smile was full of triumph and excitement, his right eye glowing ominously he spoke. “What makes it different?” he asked, raising your skirt and inserting his fingers inside your underwear. You had to press your lips together as soon as he started rubbing his fingers on your clit. “See, you enjoy the fuck out of it. I can see through your deepest desires, kitten. It’s telling me… ‘don’t stop’.” 

Your palm was pressed on his chest while his other hand tried to spread your legs open. The very position you were in—leaned on the wooden bench, legs spread apart, and being fingered in the presence of God—you were certainly going to hell. This was going against your belief, having your chastity corrupted in arrant disgrace by a man who was the devil himself. 

How exactly did you find yourself in this predicament? You came here to offer a quick prayer, not to be pressed on the bench by a man who was now unbuckling his belt in haste. You could only think of how Sylus, who was an angel beyond his demons, was perhaps trying to come out of being trapped in the dungeon where Satan had him caged.

“This is so wrong,” your lips quivered as you spoke, both of the curling of your toes and of the shameless sacrilegious act. You knew you couldn’t stop this no matter how hard you tried because Sylus would remain tenacious until he got what he wanted. 

With that, you fully submitted yourself to him and let the back of your head rest on the wooden surface while you stared at the stained glass that roofed the cathedral in different hues. 

Sylus was fast to display a smirk while positioning his hardened length on your entrance. The bands of your underwear were now resting mid-thigh as he pressed himself down on you with one knee supporting the angle of his hips. He was running his throbbing tip between your plump folds to lubricate himself with your slick. No screams could be released because you restrained your own whimpers, but your tears brimmed on the corner of your eyes from the initial penetration. 

“Ngh!” Your nails dug deep on his forearms. “S-Sylus!” 

“Are you crying?” His carmine eyes glinted of sadistic humor, running his gelid thumb across your lower lip only to sink it deep inside your mouth. “How does it feel knowing that the God you worship can’t save you?” 

A tear slid down from your eyes to your temple as Sylus started moving his hips in an achingly slow rhythm, each thrust going deeper than the last. You almost bit his thumb before he released your mouth by gripping your wrist. “Sylus—someone could see—!”

To your irony, the crucifix stared down at you and enkindled your conscience from this sinful act. Father, forgive me. You could only whisper those words in your head because your mouth was too occupied in crying out Sylus’s name.

“So warm.” It was hard not to think of how attracted he looked when he raked his fingers through his hair, later meeting your eyes with overpowering lust. He didn’t hold back at burying his cock into your cavern, allowing your walls to fit his girth like tight gloves—the feeling garnering his raspy grunt. “You’re mine, sweetie. All mine.” 

Sylus. You blinked your tears away as you closed your eyes. Sylus’s lips were now on your neck as he increased the pace of his member sliding in and out of your cunt with squelching noises that shamelessly echoed across the cathedral. “Sylus,” your lips were on his ear, “we’re in—aah—church.”

Unlike you, he was nonchalant about the sacredness of the house of God. He was mocking the supreme being that you held faith to as an act of engraving his existence into your mortal soul. While you restrained your moans as he slammed his pelvis against your hole, there was fulfillment rattling in his bones when he pressed your face to the side before diving in to suck on your sweet flesh.

“Cry more. Did you know your walls get warmer when you’re aroused?”

It was hard to describe the feeling. The median between pain and pleasure was the closest example you could liken it to. The grazing of his fangs added to the burning sensation that you had all over your body as if fire was ignited to light up all your nerves. 

Your hand latched onto his shirt before his body collapsed on top of you. With your legs spread wide, his head hung low on your neck—still and unmoving, strangely like he had fallen asleep. 

“Sylus.” You tapped his arm through the heavy rise and fall of your chest.

And before you could move away, he shot straight up and looked at you with those foxy incarnadine eyes that were now in the shade of deep crimson. Eyes that were wide and full of horror as he looked around the cathedral before he slowly realized what he had just done. 

“Y/N,” he said your name regretfully, pulling your dress down to cover your exposed parts, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I did this—? I don’t—” 

Long dried were the tears on your cheek. As you two scrambled to fix your clothes, you pulled him into a hug while he murmured endless sorry’s to your ear. At least, for now he was back. That was the most important thing with all the sanity you had left. 

“Just get me out of here, Sy,” you said, back into the arms of your human lover. 

~~

You’ve always wondered why Sylus often slept during the day. Or why his normal heartbeat was at the pace of someone who was having a heart attack. Or why he could get serious wounds but managed to heal himself fast. Sometimes he would disappear from your sight and transport himself into another. Sometimes he would see and hear things a thousand times clearer than any other person could. 

For almost a year of dating, these questions only came up to you without much of an answer. You thought that you were simply theorizing over things that you shouldn’t. Why does Sylus always wear that cross around his neck? At the back of your head, you were always intrigued. 

You didn’t find out about the real reason until two months ago when you finally met ‘Lucifer’ out of nowhere. If Sylus was Jekyll, Lucifer was his Hyde. It was his way to allow you to form a dissociation between the two beings in one body. 

You never believed in devils until Sylus showed his demonic face to you one night while you were supposedly peacefully sleeping. You recalled the screams that you released when you found out that Sylus was the fallen angel all along. That the rosary around his neck was meant to seal his dark side, the side that you still didn’t know much of. Up until this day, he didn’t provide a concrete answer as to why he needed to seal himself. He was taciturn about the topic of his other self despite you bringing it up every now and then. 

But because you loved him, trusted him, and believed him when he said that he didn’t plan to hurt you—you stayed. You knew his human side better than the monster within him, so you told yourself that you could stay for him. You just needed to learn more about him. 

There were still moments where you felt cautious around him, but when you looked to see his softened expression, you were comfortable at seeing the Sylus that you knew. 

“Y/N,” he broke the silence that lingered between you two as you walked around the city, “I’m sorry.” 

You tugged at his hand in reassurance. “It’s okay, I just...” As flashbacks of the earlier events returned to your head, you felt ashamed at having done such dirty deeds at a holy place. “He always gets what he wants.” 

Because you let him. 

“I can’t do anything when I’m trapped,” Sylus mumbled, keeping up with your footsteps as you strode along the street. 

Your curiosity bubbled from his statement. “What happens when he’s taking over?” 

This time, Sylus didn’t shy away from giving an answer while he interlaced his hand with yours. “I can hear everything, but I can’t feel or see. It’s all black, like I’m in a dark void.” 

“Like comatose?” 

“You could say that.”

How could a rosary seal his other self? How come he had two versions of him? 

“He’s obsessed with you,” he admitted, frowning at the thought as you passed rows and rows of boutiques and restaurants. “Your soul, your scent, your body. That’s probably why he always has the urge to come out.” 

The thought of it permeated heat on your cheeks even when it shouldn’t. Sylus had always been sweet and loving with his intimacy with you, but his other side was rough and sadistic. He liked tormenting your innocence with his immorality. 

“You said the rosary was meant to seal him, but how come he keeps on—”

“It doesn’t work these days. Only my father can help, but I don’t wanna go that far just to tell him about this.” 

Father. It was the first time he had ever spoken about his father in your twelve months together. Or did he mean father as in God? “Where’s your father, Sylus? Or the rest of your family? Are the other archangels roaming on Earth, too?” 

You could see it in his saintly face that he was about to give an answer and you anticipated it, not until the nearby catcalling distracted you two. 

“Nice legs, gorgeous,” whistled the man who was leaning by the street railings with a cigarette in his hand. The man was probably in his mid-40’s with disheveled hair and unshaved face. You sent him a glare but a crude wink was returned. 

“It’s a bit rude to ogle at my woman in front of me, don’t you think?” was Sylus’s warning, the tendrils of his black-red mist extending to surround the man.

You could hear the man hooting again, unaware of what would become of him. “Ha ha! You punk. I’d spread those legs in a heartbeat.” 

While Sylus’s eyes were deepening into a darker hue, you knew you couldn’t risk seeing him release his demonic side again. It was a dangerous gamble. And the city could become a bloodbath. So, in your insistence, you told your lover to just leave it be.

“Sylus, let it go,” you gently asked, tugging at his arm softly. You wanted to avoid confrontation and just continue walking with you until you could reach your destination. “It’s okay.”

~~

“Happy anniversary to my favorite couple!” 

The clinking of glasses was followed by cheers on the booth where your boyfriend and your friends sat together. It was Avery’s idea to celebrate the special day two days prior as an excuse to hang out and drink. Luke and Kieran, being Sylus’s minions, were very much willing to join. 

“It’s not until Wednesday,” Sylus corrected with a smile, sipping on his pint before putting an arm around you. He gestured towards Avery and Luke with a knowing look. “Now you two should date each other.” 

You giggled at the thought. “Yeah, I totally support that.” 

Instead, the two of them reacted heavily against it—faking a gag, making a face, name it all. They were adamant on showing how disgusted they were at the thought of dating each other and it was quite a hilarious sight to watch. 

“Boss, come on,” Luke replied in outward distaste. 

Avery, on one hand, was rolling her eyes. “You wish I was interested. I’d rather do Kieran than you.” 

Kieran was Luke’s twin, the less obnoxious and more empathic one. But when those two were combined, their level of mischief wasn’t really any different from each other. 

“Picking Kieran is the most insulting thing you can say to me,” huffed Luke, earning yours and Avery’s chuckle. 

After an exchange of playful banter and teasing remarks, the conversation was redirected back to you and Sylus as Avery curiously brought up how you first met your boyfriend. It was only a year ago and the memory was still vivid in your head. 

“Oh my God. I remember how Y/N first saw you at this auction,” she gushed towards your boyfriend while you blushed, gripping his arm closer, “and she’s acting like she just saw her soulmate.” 

Kieran decided to chime in, “Boss was looking at her too, though. He may look tough, but he’s a hopeless romantic deep down—”

“Enough,” Sylus warned before sipping on his glass. 

You rested your head on his shoulder and relaxed against him. “Next thing you guys know, we’re living together.” 

Frankly, everything was normal until Sylus showed up. 

“What do you like most about her, Sylus?” Avery egged on with a grin spreading on her face. 

Your boyfriend didn’t even take a second to answer, “She’s cute like a cat,” he said, caressing your hand with his thumb from under the table, “and smart, and caring. Can get spicy, too. It won’t end.” 

Sylus was the same, if not better. You didn’t have much experience when it came to dating, but you were surely on top of the luck department for being blessed with a man like him. He was the most protective person you knew, the most affectionate, the most thoughtful. Sylus was the moon that illuminated your dark nights. You could even remember how he would wait outside of your workplace to pick you up in his motorcycle—those were the little things that lasted for a lifetime in someone’s memory. 

“She’s also a nun.” 

The sudden panic in your eyes came simultaneous to the fast beating of your heart. You swiftly whipped your head to look at Sylus who was now displaying a deriding smirk across his pale face. Oh, were you doomed. The ruby eyes and the stony face was clear confirmation that the demon had taken over him. Twice in the same day. 

Even Avery was surprised by his word of choice, but nonetheless found it amusing as it was rare for them to see Sylus acting bold. You were grateful for her obliviousness because you didn’t know how else you could explain the situation at hand.

“She’s a what, boss-man?” Luke jeered, chugging on his pint and looking at his boss in his newfound entertainment. He was among the very few people that knew Sylus’s true nature. Because the twins were demons like him.

“A nun,” Sylus answered, sending a look of mischief your way. You were deeply panicking that you had to squeeze his hand in hopes of stopping him from showing his true colors. “What? Don’t be shy, kitten. Didn’t we have fun in that church?”

You quickly shook your head and denied it in front of your friends. “We didn’t. Don’t believe him.”

Avery was unbelievably taken aback. “Wow,” she held back a chuckle, “I didn’t know Sylus has a vulgar mouth.” 

~~

The night carried on while the downpour engulfed the streets heavily. Your desperation to leave the dinner earlier than intended was solely because you weren’t comfortable at having Sylus around other people. The man was clearly enjoying the embarrassment that he was putting you through. And you, you were only being cautious. Who knew what things he could do to Avery while in his other form? 

You didn’t want things to end up where Sylus would be ostracized by the people who knew him just because they couldn’t understand that he was completely harmless in his benevolent self. 

It took a lot of effort to finally make an excuse of getting home early while the skies have temporarily calmed down. However, as you two strolled across the street, Sylus wouldn’t stop blabbering on and on about how you should have stayed more to talk about how prudish you were. 

“I’m not in the mood right now,” you spoke in a detached voice, moving away from him as you walked together. Because you ruined it, you wanted to add. The cold breeze kissed your face through the dark. 

Sylus only moved closer to you. “You shouldn’t be so uptight,” he countered, “Is that how kittens should act? Or do I punish you back at home?”

Punishments. You didn’t wish to go through another round of his ‘punishments’ because you weren’t certain at how creative he could be at delivering them. There was no doubt that a man who traversed the ages would have seen enough torture devices used during the earlier times. Perhaps he could get inspiration from those. 

“I just wanna go home,” you muttered, almost inaudibly had his heightened hearing senses not worked. 

“Good, then I can have fun with y—” Sylus halted from his words as his face froze at the sight in front of him. His body had completely gone stiff and his jaws were clenched. You would have thought that he was angry until that evil upturn of his lips came to show. 

“Sylus...”

Following his sight, he was all eyes on a man from a distance before he dashed towards the stranger, leaving you utterly stupefied from where you stood. What’s he on about? You rushed as your heels landed in lightweight steps across the sidewalk while you watched in terror how Sylus mercilessly throttled the man by the neck and dragged him into a dark alleyway. 

“Sylus, stop!” 

As you reached him with a panting breath, you realized that the man he was holding high up against the wall was the same person that catcalled you earlier. The man was wriggling away from Sylus’s tight grip, only to be asphyxiated harsher than before. 

“Wh-What’s your problem?” The man struggled to breathe due to the strangulation and you were pulling Sylus’s other arm to stop him. 

At the sight of Sylus’s crimson eyes and vicious stance, you knew there was nothing much you could do to prevent harm. He was determined to do what he wanted without paying attention to his surroundings. 

“You’re fantasizing her, huh?” Sylus taunted with a sinister undertone in his words. “You wanna spread ‘em open?” 

Recalling the very words he spoke, the man saw you with frantic eyes as his face was reddening from the lack of oxygen. With a rushed shake of the head and a face that was begging for sympathy, he tried to break free. “N-No, no. She’s—haaa! She’s all yours.” 

“Sylus, stop it.” You grabbed his arms and attempted your best to pull him away despite the trepidation that caused you goosebumps. “Please stop, you’re gonna kill him.” 

Every time you saw this demonic creature, you were learning new things about him and most of those things were of the worst kind. Not only was he possessive—he was diabolical, potentially obsessive, and a cutthroat sadist who wouldn’t even blink before ending someone’s life. This was the true nature of a demon, not some silly fantasy that today’s pop-culture portrayed them to be. 

He was a body without a soul.

Unfortunately, you should have thought twice before choosing to get involved with him. 

“That’s my plan, sweetie.” 

a pet for a monster

cw: monster fucking w afab! gn reader, dead dove do not eat, extremely dubcon (tagging noncon) to con, breeding, pregnancy, lactation kink, 1k drabble but i managed to make it need every tw ever

He doesn’t understand your language—nor humans as a species, for that matter. So when you come into his possession he investigates your body quite thoroughly. He feels every curve and bump and hole and observes your reactions—wordless as always. 

He loves how you twitch and yelp when he touches between your legs, then when he smells you there he can’t help but want to taste—digging his long tongue inside of you. 

He’s unsure at first what to make of your reaction. How you tense and squeal—at first he wonders if it means he’s causing you pain. Your taste is addictive though, and his instincts tell him he’s doing what he’s supposed to be doing. So he doesn’t stop, quickly decoding your body language and sounds to mean pleasure. He’s been gripping your small frame by the shoulder to keep you steady, and at some point he feels your soft hands hold and rub at his wrist in what seems to be appreciation. He’s delighted that the two of you seem to be bonding.

Shortly after, you do the funniest thing. You twitch and pulse around his tongue, making all kinds of noise. Your grip on his wrist turns tight—a display of more strength than he’s ever seen from you. He likes the way you flood his taste buds at the same time, he can’t stop himself from lapping against your walls to swallow every last drop you have to give. 

Licking like that quickly becomes a common occurrence; it’s a dependable way for him to befriend his new pet, he’s certain. He likes you so much. 

One day, though you seem to be behaving like normal, the creature can smell that you’re in heat. A week or so after you had that mysterious bleeding, you become extremely fertile—smelling ripe and mouth watering as your organs literally prepare to be bred. It’s curious that you aren’t humping or whining or showing any signs of trying to sait what must surely be an ache; if the creature uses any other species as a guide you must be feeling incredibly needy. Still, you suffer in silence. 

Luckily for you, your new owner is kind and considerate—he’ll take care of it. It’s finally time he breeds you.

First he touches you in the way he knows makes your insides wet, tonguing the little crest in the folds between your legs till you do your twitchy thing that makes you gush. Then, careful to keep his claws at bay, he tries widening your hole, massaging your insides with a few digits in an attempt to prepare your body for his intrusion. Your kind is smaller and more fragile than his, so he’s often unsure which limits he can push with your body—especially the sensitive parts he gathers are your reproductive organs.

The breeding is successful, he believes. It goes well, though fitting himself inside makes him a bit nervous with how loud you get—he’s sure it is uncomfortable just based on the size difference. He knows it’s what’s best for you though, and he tries to be gentle and not force himself too quickly. 

In the end you’re squeaking and breathing so fast, having gone through cycle after cycle of gushing and twitching around him. It’s adorable. And the feeling—the squeeze your small body gives his cock is addicting. You feel so good, he can’t help but want to breed you constantly from then on. Especially when you seem down, perhaps some variation of anxious— paying attention to the area between your legs is always a sure way to calm and quiet you. 

It’s many months later that he finds another way to calm you down—cradling you in his arms while he drinks the sweet milk from your breasts. You seemed a bit sad after he took your baby, helping you with the birth before whisking the thing off to be raised with his kind. 

But, what, like he expected you to raise it? He’ll swallow the sweet liquid from your breasts himself—though from the timing of it he can deduce it was something your body made for it’s offspring. He loves the taste, cradling you in one arm while he carefully so carefully squeezes your breast in one clawed hand, sucking each of your tits while you pet his head and face. This seems to soothe you like it does him—maybe even satisfy some mysterious need of yours.

After years passed, you birthing more and more of his young in the mean time, you truly grow accustomed to your new life. You grow to love and trust your master, even trying to care for him the way he constantly cares for you. 

One time you even go so far as to try to please him with your mouth, licking and sucking at the monstrous length of his cock till he gives up his self-restraint and fucks you. He found the act sweet and endearing, but he certainly prefers your pussy—he’s molded you to fit him whole inside you now, your mouth can’t stretch around his entire length the same. 

He takes you out with him often nowadays, so much that others of his kind have grown used to your presence—finding it to be somewhat of a novelty. Your master is unusual. Most creatures like him don’t impregnate their pets—parading them around with swollen bellies—let alone let them wear clothes (he conceded in letting you once he gathered your species usually hid reproductive organs from those they didn’t wish to mate with… a possessive part of him was pleased).

But they accept you and your eccentric owner all the same—supposing that such a cute pet like you might drive anyone to act a bit odd.

welp atleast mikey's not mad lolol

god complex. // sanzu haruchiyo x fem! reader.

all characters are aged up.

this content includes : nonconsensual sex, dom! sanzu haruchiyo, creampie, breeding kink, choking, hair pulling, pwp, no prep, fear play, hate sex, no aftercare, cheating, semi-public sex.

N/A : this was quick so sorry, ill write more – this has been in my mind for awhile and I finally managed to get back to writing.

CONTENT BELOW MIGHT BE TRIGGERING TO SOME USERS, CLICKING READ MORE MEANS YOU HAVE CONSENTED TO VIEWING DARK CONTENT.

Sanzu absolutely hated your guts, you were spoiled, and thought you were above him, thinking so highly of yourself. He can't have that, no, he can't. He has this sick fantasy of putting your spoiled self in place, and that's how exactly he got you cornered, in Mikey's— no, your husband's room, and bent over, your lacey panties pulled down to your ankles.

It was an embarrassing sight to be honest. Your face was flushed red, and you were shaking in fear from the gun pointed at your skull.

"Scream for help, princess and I'll blow your brains out." You did not know if he was lying, but looking at his eyes, glossed with lust and craze, he probably wasn't. He got off on people's pain, but was he about to actually kill you? Mikey's wife?

"It's about time I put you on your place, yeah? Thinking you can boss people around, just cause you're Mikey's cute lil wifey?" You could only whimper in pain, as he had his pants unzipped, and his dick out, rubbing the tip on that nerves that would make you let out a quiet moan.

"Please.. Please.. Stop." was the only thing you could let out from your plump lips, but he did not care, flipping you around and kissing you deeply, shoving his tongue in your mouth, as you could only cry.

Pulling away, he hummed, strings of saliva snapping and dripping on your chest. "You telling me to stop makes me want to destroy you more. So go on, spit some more. My guns loaded, princess." You hated that nickname, even though Mikey would call you that sometimes, but it was so degrading, you could only let out sobs from your mouth, which turned into an empty scream when he shoved his dick inside, slamming against your cervix, as if trying to force himself in your womb.

God, did it hurt, your sobs just continued, but so did he, pulling out and slamming repeatedly, against your g-spot, which absolutely ruined you.

Your mascara, that you have put on for Mikey was ruined, smudged on your face, that Sanzu couldn't help but take a picture, you're unsure if he would set it as his wallpaper, but judging by how insane he was, he probably would, and flex it to the Haitani brothers, on how he managed to put your bratty ass in check.

He continued his assault, putting his gun on the table next to you.

You had half a thought to grab it, but you knew he was faster, and stronger too. He would probably grab it before you can, so you decide to go limp and cry silently as he assaulted your now swollen pussy.

Sanzu grunted, pulling on your hair whilst he gripped onto your neck with his other, his thrust getting more sloppy.

It was then you only realized that he was not wearing a condom, and you were not on birth control since you and Mikey were trying for a child.

"Wh— Wai— Please.. Pull out. Not on—" You were cut off by the sound of your moans, that band in your stomach tightening up.

"Not on birth control? Oh, baby, I know that. You and my boss trying out for a child, mm... I know. Don't worry, I'll give it to you. Gonna get you pregnant." He grinned lazily, as he stared at your horrified face, struggling and squirming to get out of his hold, to no avail, he was stronger, you were weak.

With one last thrust, he shoved his dick inside you, spurting his cum straight into your womb.

An orgasm was ripped out of you, forced and unwilling, your face twisted into some form of ahegao, and god did he love it.

He continued to thrust, lazily, to keep his cum inside you, desperate to impregnate your fertile pussy.

You were snapped out of your thoughts from the sound of the door opening, and the sound of your husbands voice.

"Sanzu, I told you to wait for me."

writing belongs to @ccryb4by. do not promote or repost.

ohh to be her

Fun under the Sun

SUMMARY: Manjiro Sano, leader of the most notorious crime syndicate in Japan, invited you to spend a week on his private tropical island. There, you'll experience the height of luxury and the depths of debauchery. Will you succumb to the temptations?

Warnings: rough sex, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, deepthroating, titjob, anal sex, gangbang, impregnation, triple penetration, nipple play, creampie, bondage, gags, consensual non-consent

Pairing: Bonten!Mikey x AFAB!Reader WC: 5.5k

You smirked as you passed fellow revelers on the way to the club. You could feel eyes on you as your hips swayed and the low-riding, tight, black leather pants you wore let everyone see just how well they gripped the jiggling globes of your luscious ass cheeks. The orange top you wore was working overtime to contain your heavy breasts, your cleavage spilling out of the low-cut neckline, but the material was sturdier than it appeared. It had to be to considering how hard you intended to hit the dance floor.

You were about to step out onto the street to cross when a limousine suddenly pulled up in front of you. Your eyes momentarily flashed red in irritation before you raised an eyebrow quizzically as the rear window began to lower.

A handsome man regarded you coolly. Despite the white of his hair, he didn't seem to be old, his pale skin surprisingly smooth and wrinkle free.

"Good evening, madam. Forgive my abruptness, but I would like to make you an offer-"

"Save it mister," You cut in abruptly. "I'm not a prostitute and even if I was, you couldn't afford me, fancy car and all. Now beat it before I stop being polite."

The man's face was nearly unreadable, but you caught the slightest hint of a smirk before he motioned to his driver and the limo drove on.

You gave your hair a toss to shake off you frustration at such a lame pickup attempt before you continued to the club. The doorman didn't slow you down for a second as others continued to wait in line. You made a beeline for the dance floor, letting the blasting music envelope you. You lost yourself in the rhythm and press of other bodies.

After several songs and grinding on many anonymous individuals, you had worked up a thirst. You made you way to the bar, brushing sweaty strands of hair from your face. Before you could open your mouth to order, a drink was set before you. You stared at the glass suspiciously before the presence of someone beside you drew you attention.

Seeing the man from the limo shouldn't have come as a shock, plenty of guys had continued to hit on you after you had snubbed their advances. What was shocking was how out of place he seemed in his crisp and pressed white double-breasted blazer, a red handkerchief in the breast pocket, black shirt, vest and white tie. It clashed horribly with the bar's throngs of young people in various styles of alluring outfits, and yet, he exuded a confidence that made it seem like everyone else were the ones who didn't belong.

"The drink is on the house, madam," he said as he raised a martini in salute.

"What are you? The owner?" You asked derisively, knowing for a fact that that club owner was a much younger man who had hit on you several times.

"Yes, in fact," he said before taking a sip from his drink. "As of several minutes ago."

When you stared at him in disbelief, he raised his free hand above his head and made a short cutting motion. Immediately the music died and the patrons began looking around in confusion.

"Come, join me at a table while my men clear the club so we can have a private conversation."

True to his word, the bouncers were ushering everyone else out of the club. Still in shock, you followed him and sat opposite at one of the tables along the wall. It took several minutes for the club to empty out and they sat in silence, youre trying to keep your surprise in check.

"I suppose an introduction is in order," he said once the place was empty. "My name is Manjiro Sano."

Your eyes widened in recognition of the name, but you have not really seen the man’s face until now. He continued before you could say anything.

"Judging from your reaction, I assume you have heard of my active organization. I am currently Bonten's head, but I am not here in that capacity. Suffice to say my criminal life has not been a happy one for a long time. I'm divesting myself from my syndicate. I've taken what I felt I was due and now I find myself in need of a companion worthy of my station."

He sat back, sipping his drink as he let his words sink in.

"Me?!" You were unable to contain your incredulity before it gave way to anger that drove you to your feet. "I told you already, I'm not a prostitute! You may be the infamous Manjiro Sano of Bonten, but I am not scared to defy you. First of all, I have no business with an underworld king like you. I am sorry -"

"Please, at least hear my offer before you reject it outright," Manjiro said as he reached into an inner coat pocket and withdrew a pen. He began writing on a napkin as he continued, "One week as my escort to my private island. You can leave any time you desire, but while there you will experience the kind of luxury few can even imagine."

Manjiro finished writing on the napkin, folded it in half, and slid it towards you, "And to compensate you for your time and company."

You hesitantly reached out and picked up the napkin as you sat back down, unfolding it to find an obscenely large number written on it.

"I can pay even more if that isn't enough," Manjiro whispered in you ear, causing you to jump in your seat. You hadn't noticed him moving around to your side of the table. As your eyes met his piercing onyx gaze, you were surprised to find no hint of condescension, just earnest desire.

You looked away as your cheeks flushed and your heart raced. The napkin crumpled as you balled your hands into fists to keep from fidgeting.

"I-I suppose checking it out couldn't hurt."

***

Manjiro hadn't been lying about the luxury that awaited you. It had only been a couple of days but you were already wondering how you would go back to your normal life. It wasn't like you had lived a meager life before meeting Manjiro, but it certainly seemed that way in comparison. You ate the finest meals and drank spirits that were beyond top shelf. You swam in crystal clear waters and hiked beautiful trails, and surprisingly, Manjiro was by your side for most of it.

Throughout it all you were aware of his eyes trailing over your body but he never made you feel uncomfortable or tried to push himself upon you. He was engaging and attentive, quick to offer up a new activity or service if there was ever a lull in your revelry, though at that exact moment a lull was just the thing you were looking for.

You were reclined on a beach towel that had a thread count so high it felt almost criminal to lay on it. Your aviator sunglasses kept the sun out of your eyes as you let the sound of the waves sink you into a state of deep relaxation. The only thing that kept you from drifting off to sleep was the sound of footsteps approaching.

"You should be more careful," Manjiro said as he stood over you, his eyes trailing down you body and the orange and yellow striped bikini you wore.

You turned your head a fraction to regard him, "Why? There's nothing dangerous on this island and I doubt any of your staff are a threat."

Manjiro chuckled at the notion, "I was referring to the sun. It would be a shame to have your flawless skin damaged by a sunburn. I have some lotion with me. Would you be so kind as to help me with the hard-to-reach spots?"

It was a small request so you didn't seem the harm in it as you took off your sunglasses and pushed yourself up. Manjiro handed you the bottle and you began to rub a hearty squirt of the stuff into his back. This was the first time you had gotten so close in a situation that might be seen as intimate. Manjiro glanced over his shoulder down at you and you felt a blush creep into you cheeks even though all youre doing was running your hands up and down his back. It actually made you focus more on his body and you noticed that he had a supple and muscular build on the leaner side, similar to a marathon runner's.

"Would you let me return the favor?" Manjiro asked as you finished, catching you off-guard. The idea of his hands running over your body made you shiver in a way that surprised you. You knew he desired you, but sex had never been outright stated as part of your deal, and finding yourself entertaining the idea was startling.

"That would be nice," You found yourself saying before you partially snapped back to your senses. "Just mind my hair," you added in warning before you laid back down on you stomach.

Manjiro knelt beside you, and you glanced back at him out of the corner of your eye as you rested your head on your crossed arms. You found yourself once more eyeing his lithe build when you noticed the bulge of his speedo. You must have stared because Manjiro paused and then glanced down at his crotch. Once more he surprised you when he laughed.

"Do you find this embarrassing?" He asked, oozing confidence as he spread his legs wider to display what seemed to be a truly impressive erection straining against the tight fabric. "I won't deny that part of why I asked you to accompany me was a physical attraction. There's no shame in verbally or physically admitting you arouse me. May I continue?"

You swallowed and nodded before turning away to hide your blush. You still jumped a little as his hands began to work lotion into you skin. Slowly the rubdown became more of a massage and Manjiro surprised you again with his deft touch and strong hands. You barely gasped in surprise when his hands squeezed the back of your thighs and daringly cupped the bottom of your ass. Meeting no resistance, he boldly grabbed your ass cheeks, his fingers sinking deeply as he squeezed and spread them. You bit you lip as he manhandled your bubble butt, knowing you should stop him, but unable to bring yourself to do so.

"Y/N, you are the most exquisite woman I've ever laid eyes on," Manjiro said as one of his hands slipped beneath your bikini bottom. Your knuckles were white as you gripped your arms while his fingers explored the deep valley of you ass. Your asshole puckered and twitched as his fingers brushed over it before diving deeper.

You buried you face into the towel to muffle you moan as his fingers slid over your damp folds. He teasingly probed your pussy as his other hand trailed up your body to undo your top. That brought your head up, only for you to yelp as Manjiro surprised you by rolling you onto you back. You could have easily stopped him but the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, it was intoxicating and you wanted more.

Emboldened, Manjiro kissed you while fondling your breast and teasing you pussy. He deftly rolled your hardening nipple between thumb and index finger while stirring your pussy up with his other hand. You moaned around his lips and squirmed with pleasure but as good as his fingers felt sliding in and out of you pussy, there was something more fulfilling you couldn't stop picturing. Manjiro let out a grunt of surprise as you hand cupped his crotch but he quickly recovered and began slowly, steadily thrusting against you hand. You continued manually stimulating each other until his speedo was thoroughly stained with precum and your cunt was flushed and glistening with fluids.

Manjiro finally pulled away, if only to shed his speedo and free his cock to bob in the air. You sharply inhaled as you got your first good look at his dick. You were by no means a virgin but the meaty monolith gave you pause even as you sat up to grasp the base. Manjiro moaned his approval as you brought your other hand to caress his heavy balls.

"I promise you won't be disappointed if you give it a try," Manjiro added, his confidence irrepressible as ever.

You obliged, if only to see the look on his face as you wrapped your lips around his tip. It was your turn to tease him as you slurped lewdly on his cock, making no effort to take more than what was already in your mouth. The shudder of pleasure that shot through him as your tongue swirled around his glans felt very satisfying. You could tell Manjiro wanted more as you edged him with slow strokes with both hands, the remnants of lotion making your hands quite slick.

Once you felt he had suffered on the brink enough you eased off him, earning a look of annoyance that quickly shifted to amazement as you lay back on the towel. You reached down, squeezing your heavy breasts between you arms as your hands spread you pussy open in invitation.

"Give it a try, I promise you won't be disappointed," you teased, throwing his boast back at him.

Manjiro practically pounced on you, barely able to maintain his air of superiority as desire raged inside him. You threw your head back as he spread you open slowly, savoring you like a fine wine. He trailed kisses up your chest, as his cock stretched you more than any other man or toy ever had. For the briefest of moments, you stayed embraced like that before Manjiro's grip shifted to your hips, lifting them ever so slightly, and he slammed himself the rest of the way forward.

Your back arched and you gasped at the sudden intensity, but even more than that, was just how amazing it felt to be speared by his cock. He struck depths that left you quaking beneath him and as he pulled back the flare of his mushroom-shaped tip dragged along your walls until your eyes crossed in delicious agony. Manjiro drove himself forward with relentless stamina as his hands shifted to grab the back of yourr thighs. He forced your ass up higher until his balls were heartily slapping against you, resounding across the empty beach.

"Would you grant me a request?" Manjiro suddenly asked, not even breathing hard as he pounded away at your pussy.

"Wh-what did you have in mind?" You asked before you bit you lip to keep back a sad sigh as he pulled out of you.

"Get on your hands and knees."

You blushed but quickly rolled over to comply. You looked back to Manjiro as he once more grabbed your waist and stuffed you full of his cock. This angle wasn't quite as deep but his pace was nearly breakneck in comparison, causing your ass to ripple with his thrusts while your heavy breasts swayed wildly, your excited nipples dragging occasionally along the towel beneath you. He hammered your pussy like he intended to truly get his money's worth out of you, and you let you head fall to rest on you arms, if only to keep him from seeing how his harsh pounding made your limbs tremble with desire.

As if he could sense your enthusiasm at his rough treatment, Manjiro took one hand from your hip and raised it high overhead. The spank sent a shockwave up through your body and though you cried out sharply, it quickly morphed into a hearty moan. Another spank had you driving yourself into his thrusts, panting and grunting as you met his intensity with you own. Manjiro peppered your ass with spanks, occasionally switching hands so both cheeks were decorated with vibrant hand prints. Each strike made your eyes flare red as you threw you head back, whipping you hair this way and that while reveling in the heady mix of pain and pleasure.

Manjiro's stamina was truly incredible, but your need for release outmatched even his incredible pace. With one powerful slam of your ass, you sent Manjiro sprawling, catching him entirely off guard. Before he could pick himself up, you pounced on him, your eyes dangerously red as your hair seemed to be made of fire. You held him down easily with just one hand as the other aligned his cock with your dripping pussy. The force with which you dropped onto his cock made his eyes bulge and were it not for the sand you were fucking on, he might have suffered real damage. As it was, you seemed intent on riding him into the ground, even as the walls of your pussy squeezed him so tight that he thought you might lift him up with just the grip of your sex.

Though he'd been taken by surprise Manjiro quickly recovered and grabbed hold of your pillowy breasts, aggressively mashing one as he brought his mouth to yourr stiff nipple. Your tit flesh was like dough between his fingers as he squeezed and yourr peaked nipple was nearly as sensitive as your clit under his skilled tongue. Your fucking became more a battle of wills, a race to see whose body would give out first and unfortunately for you, Manjiro's spanks weren't quite the same as a battle with a noob white-belter in karate. Your eyes became lazy once more, and you paused as a wave of exhaustion came over you.

In that moment Manjiro rolled you onto your back and this time he rose to his feet as he grabbed your legs, folding you nearly in half. With your ankles by your head in a mating press, Manjiro slammed into you harder and faster than ever. Your pussy gushed like a fountain every time he plunged into you, and you mewled weakly as his cock repeatedly struck the entrance to your womb. Seeing you tremble as you were overwhelmed with pleasure was the catalyst he needed to reach his own climax and with a powerful lung, he drove himself down and came violently. He made smaller, gentler thrusts in time with each swell of his cock, rocking you almost tenderly as he filled you with delicious and copious amount of his fertile seed. Finally, he let your legs drop limply so he could cup your face in his hands, pulling you into a passionate kiss. You shivered, both from the kiss and the sensation of his cock slipping free of your pussy, hot cum oozing from your gaping hole.

When he pulled away, you gulped down air, still shivering as every touch made your nerves scream. Manjiro laid down beside you, watching you with amusement and an unsatiated hunger.

"So, I take it you'll be staying the rest of the week?" He asked, smirking confidently.

You surprised him again as you rolled over to straddle his waist, before laying your body atop his and kissing him deeply. When you pulled away, your eyes were alight with desire as you said, "I think you need to talk a little less if we're going to make up for all the time we wasted not fucking."

With that you slid down his body and enveloped his cock between your massive tits, working them back and forth to massage his cock back to life with your ample breasts.

***

True to your word, you and Manjiro spent the next several days fucking constantly. You still enjoyed the pleasures of the island, but often while enjoying the pleasures of each other's bodies as well. You even fucked shamelessly in front of the staff when meals were prepared and served to them. Manjiro especially enjoyed drinking fine wines from the depths of your bosom as you squeezed your weighty breasts together.

You had just finished a meal and you were on your knees, coaxing dessert from Manjiro's balls. He sat in a chair, unfortunately distracted from you deepthroating his cock. That didn't stop him from grabbing your head and hilting his cock in you throat before pumping a heavy load into your stomach. When he finally let go of you, you coughed heartily but didn't seem all that upset, you had found you enjoyed it when he got rough with you. If anything, you were concerned with his preoccupation.

"Is everything all right?" You asked as you rested you folded arms on his knee, laying your head atop your arms as you looked up at Manjiro.

For the first time since you had met, Manjiro seemed hesitant. He finally looked down to you with a furrowed brow.

"Do you trust me?"

You picked your head up as you frowned. It was a strange question for him to ask after spending the past couple of days fucking you.

"I don't think I would have let you fuck my ass if I didn't," You said as you playfully rocked his leg back and forth, trying dispel the air of unease you felt.

"What if I told you that I've invited a number of my executives to the island to fuck you for an obscene amount of money? Not only that, but if anyone manages to impregnate you, then that man will win the entire pot of money they have all put forward. What would you say to that?"

You searched Manjiro's face for any hint of tomfoolery but he remained somberly serious. You wanted to lash out in outrage, demand if the past few days had meant anything to him, but as expected of a syndicate boss, you’re not surprised if he use you like he use other people simply for their funny gambling games, foul desires, and lecherous amusement, his executives will place bets on who can manage to impregnate you in the shortest span of time, and the winner will take home the entire pot money. Cruel and inhumane indeed. But you couldn't stop thinking about how he had answered your question with a question of his own. Did you trust him?

"I would say that I do trust you, but if I end knocked up with some random guy's baby, you'll owe me far more than money." You emphasized your words by gripping his shaft and squeezing until it was just shy of painful.

Manjiro's face split in a massive smile as he reached down to stroke your cheek affectionately. "You have my word that it won't come to that, not even close."

***

The next day you found yourself naked, and on your knees with your arms bound tightly but comfortably behind your back. You could hear the murmur of a crowd around you, but they seemed to be waiting for something. You hated to admit but the combination of being made to wait and knowing there were so many eyes devouring the sight of you voluptuous naked body was making you wet and needy.

Finally, the sound of something metallic striking glass rang out and the crowd grew silent. Manjiro's voice boomed through the room, "Welcome gentlemen, I know you are all looking forward to today's event. Before we begin, I would like to assure you that Y/N is indeed fertile and ovulating, as you can read from her laboratory analysis results." There was brief pause and some more murmuring before Manjiro continued, "Well then, if there are no further issues, then for the next twenty-four hours fill her up as much as you can and may the most potent man win!"

Your head snapped towards Manjiro's voice, he hadn't mentioned anything about being fucked for a day straight! It was too late to do anything about it as you were immediately surrounded by a press of bodies. Despite their rush they seemed to have decided some sort of pecking order as two purple haired guys positioned you so you were straddling the one with the jellyfishy mullet while the taller guy with the neat hairstyle you assumed to be his brother considering their similar faces, held your shoulders. They unceremoniously began pounding your ass and pussy. The others satisfied themselves with groping and caressing you, pinching your nipples, tugging your ample breasts roughly, and jamming fingers into your mouth through the O-ring gag that forced your mouth open. You moaned and grunted as the cocks of the two brothers fucking you ground against each other through the walls of your body. Eventually a third cock was forced through your gag which belongs to a man with a lovely pink hair, and your cries were reduced to wet gargles as you were facefucked mercilessly by the madman.

They seemed to redouble their efforts, shifting you again to lay on your back atop a man with a silver long hair as he hammered your asshole while another cock from a tall scarred man with heterochromatic eyes speared your pussy. Someone grabbed your head and tilted it back so they could continue fucking your mouth, it was the pretty man with pink hair again, eventually a fourth man with the purple mullet straddled your stomach as you felt hands squeezing your pillowy breasts together so he could fuck your tits wildly. The bodies kept being replaced by more until you lost count of the number of times you'd been cummed in or on, only that the reek of ejaculate was embedded in your nose and you were starting to feel rather sore all over.

Even though you'd been told the goal was to impregnate you, the men seemed equally content to dump their loads in your ass and mouth and you were soon leaking profusely from all three holes. Despite your initial trepidation, the constant pressure from all sides and the seemingly endless line of dicks plugging your holes was driving you wild. Not because they were satisfying you, but because of their complete inability to do so. It was like an endless battle against foes who tried to measure up to Manjiro but always came up short; every ejaculation was a victory for you. You threw yourself into draining their balls, flexing your lower muscles to tighten your holes, making the men fucking you cry out in pleasure as cum exploded from their cocks.

There were occasional pauses where you were wiped down with a wet cloth and given some water, but the bondage and the rest of the gear was never removed. In time even your stamina began to flag but the men paid your whimpers no mind as they abused your holes and by the time it was finally over you were a moaning, shivering mess that was barely conscious. You were on your side, panting through the O-ring when a hand touched your face. You flinched reflexively but the hand remained and the way it caressed your cheek was familiar. You lifted your head as Manjiro spoke from right beside you.

"Well gentlemen, you've successfully fucked her for an entire day. Thanks to advances in medical technologies, we'll be able to see right now if any of you are going to be a proud papa and win money."

Conception can happen in hours, but implantation usually happens about a week later. The technology Manjiro is talking about directly scans a fertilized egg in your womb and not the hormone called HCG which is only evident after the implantation, making this invention quite handy in their short-timed games.

The gag came off you and though you had to squint and everything was blurry from your teary eyes, you were able to make out a holographic projection above you. As your vision cleared you saw it was a readout of yourself, vitals that was currently updating. An excited hush filled the room as the update percentage climbed toward completion. Despite Manjiro's earlier assurance that everything would be fine, you felt a sour lump in your gut that had nothing to do with the liters of sperm you'd swallowed.

The update reached 100% and groans of disappointment filled the room as the screen flashed negative results. No conception happened. You let your head fall to the floor in relief, barely aware of Manjiro quelling angry cries of protest and ushering everyone else from the room. You laid there on the brink of slipping into unconsciousness when Manjiro returned and knelt beside you. He tenderly undid your restraints and helped you into a sitting position. Your jaw ached from being kept open for so long but you ignored the pain as you spoke.

"How did you know I wouldn't get pregnant?"

Manjiro met your gaze evenly before glancing to the side. You followed his eyes and saw tables lining the edge of the room and many empty glasses atop them all.

"A good businessman always gives himself an edge over the competition. In this case, a little known, fast-acting drug that renders my men temporarily infertile. I made sure they were all dosed by the time they arrived on the island, and slipped more into their drinks as a precaution. By the time they take their wives or mistresses to bed, they'll be perfectly fine."

Sly, loathsome, evil, little creature. You thought. In the end, the proceeds went to his beloved syndicate’s fund. Manjiro looked back at you and his features softened as his hand touched you wrist where the marks of you bindings were vibrant and red.

"Are you all right?"

"I'll be fine. Give me a few hours and we can go back to having some proper fun."

You laughed at the look of surprise on Manjiro's face. "I haven't had a proper orgasm in twenty-four hours, you'll have to work hard to make up for all that wasted time."

***

It was the final day of your arrangement and Manjiro and you had spent every waking moment entangled in each other. You were sitting in his lap, bouncing madly on his cock as he split your ass, your hefty bottom clapping loudly. Manjiro had his face between your breasts, which easily obscured his whole head as he moaned with abandon. You ran your hands through his hair before pulling his head up so you could latch on to his lips. As you kissed deeply, you slammed your ass down and was rewarded with an explosion of heat deep in your bowels. You rocked your hips to wring every last drop from Manjiro's cock before resting your forehead against his and sighing contentedly.

"What would you say to extending your stay with me?" Manjiro suddenly asked as you sat in each other's embrace.

"Mmm, how much longer?" You responded huskily as you flexed your floor muscles to squeeze and massage his cock in your ass, hoping for another round.

"Forever."

“…”

"Marry me, Y/N. Stay by my side here, for the rest of our lives, and bear my children."

…

“I am sorry Manjiro, this was not part of our deal” You leaned down to kiss him as he laid you down and then moaned as his cock surged to life in your asshole. That moan became a sad sigh as he pulled his cock free.

…

Silence bounced, fell off his tongue and sat between them and clogged his throat. It slaughtered his trust. They exchanged blind words, and he did not cry, he did not beg, but blackness filled his ears, blackness lunged in his heart, and something that had been good, a sort of kindly oxygen, turned into a gas oven.

Manjiro chuckled dryly as you lay both down basked in the afterglow of your sex, “Just kidding.”

Holy fuck! Okay! Yes! YES! 👀 This is so fucked on both sides but like………….. lowkey pls 😶

everything he's ever wanted

part of my cheater cheater collab

♡ atsumu x freader ~ 6300 words

♡ nsfw - MINORS DNI!!

♡ tw: dark content!! dubcon/noncon, intoxication, cheating, manipulation, cum eating, crying

♡ basically u think ur fucking osamu bc ur so drunk and atsumu takes adv of tht

a playlist i made to go along with the manipulation vibes

♡ the party had simultaneously gone by so quickly and dragged on so long even though you were the one that brought it up in the first place and convinced your boyfriend, osamu, to take you and atsumu to tag along

♡ but your concept of time was out the window along with your balance and partying mood

♡ and you were drunk, so drunk, hadn't been out in so long and were trying to make up for it for some stupid reason, and your feet were killing you and you wanted to go home, but osamu was having so much fun so you tried to wait it out

♡ osamu could see you weren't having fun and as the caring, loving boyfriend he is, was going to cut his night short and take you home, because you were much more important than staying out for a few more hours

♡ "baby, i'm taking you home. you're tired and very drunk and i've got you, okay?"

♡ it takes a bit of time, and several attempts to turn him down, but osamu eventually agrees. atsumu is, after all, the one single person that he would ever trust to get you home safely and put you to bed without having to worry so avidly that he wouldn't enjoy the night anyway

♡ it takes a bit of time, and several attempts to turn him down, but osamu eventually agrees. atsumu is, after all, the one single person that he would ever trust to get you home safely and put you to bed without having to worry so avidly that he wouldn't enjoy the night anyway

♡ osamu kisses you quickly and says something you don't quite catch, but the room is spinning so you don't stick around to ask for clarification. you just want some fresh air.

♡ you're walking home, swaying from side to side, hopping over the small cracks in the sidewalk with atsumu's hand hovering over your arm just in case you lose balance completely

♡ he doesn't want to cross any lines, push through any barriers for both you and osamu. it doesn't matter how infatuated or obsessed atsumu is with you or how much he thinks about you, his brother's unobtainable, but incredibly gorgeous girlfriend, atsumu would never betray his brother, not like this.

♡ but his fingers skim over your arm and you don't move an inch, don't even acknowledge that he's there. his touch flows, so soft that it's tickling the pads of his fingers, and the flat of his hand is resting on your lower back.

♡ you're so out of it that you don't notice or you don't care or you just don't mention it, but... you're not saying anything, so it can't be crossing any line then, right? at least, not ones important enough for you to remember when you're inebriated.

♡ the hand on your lower back becomes stronger, more assertive, more confident in it's placement and in return, you're more lovey, moulding to the warmth and then leaning, on purpose or otherwise, into atsumu's shoulder with a delighted hum.

♡ "mmm, samu, thank you for walking me home, can't wait to get in bed with youuu" ~~

♡ hearing his brother's name come out of your mouth in reference to him makes atsumu recoil, cringing so viscerally that he almost immediately reprimands you, but the correction doesn't dare fall off his tongue.

♡ he couldn't force it if he tried, because you reach up, arm stretching to cusp his face in your hands, so soft against his jaw, and he loses every single train of thought he had.

♡ but that's not enough, because you turn your head and place a kiss wherever your lips land, not wanting to strain yourself. your lips purse against the base of atsumu's neck and they linger, but are gone too soon regardless.

♡ you're giggling because you're warm and your boyfriend is walking you home and you're drunk and happy and what's there not to be smiling and laughing about? you are a perfect state of absolute bliss with a syrupy sweet adoration that atsumu has to pretend is actually for him and he can't help himself-

♡ the instant that you stop walking, both feet planted on the ground for no reason other than the fact that you didn't want to take another step, atsumu kisses you. he takes your face in his hands, lifts your view towards him, looks you directly in the eyes just in case something'll click, and then he kissed you, hard and breathlessly, because he's always wanted to.

♡ god, it would have been so much easier if you just recognized. if you recognized it was the wrong twin in that moment, the rest of the night would have been so much easier.

♡ but you don't recognize him, not when he touches you or looks at you or kisses you. you kiss back, no hesitation in the way you match his intensity, murmuring osamu's name against his lips and, fuck, he's going to have fun tonight.

♡ because you keep calling him osamu the entire walk home, laughing and not registering when an answer comes back that feels a bit more cocky than you're used to, but it's fine. it has to be fine because he's about to get everything he's ever wanted.

♡ when you walk through the door, kicking your shoes off right in the middle of the entrance so that atsumu has to step over top of them, you’re already whining about wanting to be in bed, not straying far enough to be out of atsumu's sight, but enough to coerce him along

♡ you push through the door into your's and osamu's shared bedroom, stepping through the threshold like it's nothing, because it is nothing. this is your room, your private place of residence. you enter easily and without a second thought, and you expect him to do the same.

♡ but this wasn't atsumu's room. he had only been inside on a handful of occasions, frequently spending time in other rooms of the house, but never having a reason to be in your personal space.

♡ atsumu's thankful that you're drunk for many reasons and one of them is the fact that you won't notice the small amount of hesitance that runs through his mind as he steps past the doorframe.

♡ and you don't notice, much too busy with the shirt that's too much work to lift over your head and the pants that are much too tight, buttoned too neatly for your current lack of dexterity

♡ "want this off, samu, help."

♡ this time, atsumu doesn't hesitate, stepping forward in 2 large strides to meet you at the edge of the bed. he takes his time despite how whiny you are to get the articles off of you, but your fussy discomfort can wait.

♡ he wants to revel in it, the fickle impatience you're experiencing and how it makes your eyebrows knit together in the middle of your face and your bottom lip jut out. he leans down, pressing a kiss against it, because he can, and because your pout dissolves momentarily as you giggle at the contact

♡ atsumu's fingers skim against your stomach, migrating back and forth between the hem of your shirt and the waistband of your pants. so many options laid out in front of him and all he has to do is choose.

♡ when you murmur out osamu's name, egging him to move on, he listens, lifting up your shirt, palms sculpting to your sides as he pushes up the fabric.

♡ once he catches sight of your perfect skin, exposed only for him, he starts to lose himself, much too urgent to teasingly strip you. your shirt’s in a heap on the floor and his fingers are fumbling with the clasps to your bra, impatient in his own endeavor to see your perfect body

♡ “need help with this too, baby?” he asks, but it’s already undone, straps sliding down your arms with atsumu’s guiding push.

♡ he bends down, forehead against your shoulder, nose nuzzled right into you, inhaling your scent so deeply that it almost makes him dizzy. your perfume has worn off, subtle hints lingering, but ultimately the only thing he can smell is you.

♡ if it weren’t for his overwhelming need to kiss you, to gawk at you, to taste you, to feel you, he could sit right here, pressed against your skin, breathing you deep for the rest of his life. he can feel the blood rushing from his head, cock growing harder in his jeans as he inhales you

♡ lips press wherever he can reach, licking his lips between each one so you can feel the cool air where his lips used to be whenever he reluctantly pulls away.

♡ wet marks trail down your body, caress roaming briskly so he feel more of you, as much as he can get his hands on, he can't stop, you feel just like he's imagined

♡ he lowers to the ground, lips dragging against your stomach until he's eye-level with your waist. the button's much easier for him to undo, no difficulty unfastening and tugging down your pants for you to step out of them.

♡ your panties are so tight, taut against your puffy lips, a tiny dark spot drawing him in like a man dying of thirst.

♡ fuck, he needs to taste you. he knows that there's an unofficial timer counting down in his head, one that runs out with his brother coming home and all of his dreams coming to an end, but he has to get between your legs, shove his face so deep in your cunt that he'll be tasting it forever

♡ "pretty girl, lay down, let me take care of ya, okay?"

♡ you don't object, but he's not sure that with the state you're in right now, you completely understand the implications of that sentence. your movements don't have nearly as much control as they normally do, back falling against the bed almost instantaneously with your hips.

♡ he wants to continue to take his time with you, but he's getting restless, skin crawling with an overwhelming need, stomach empty, hungry for you and only you. he rolls your panties down your thighs, calves, throws them to the side, and, in a moment, nudges your legs apart

♡ his arms snake beneath the undersides of your knees, hands clasping together under your lower back. he pulls you close, leans in closer, salivating because your folds are glistening. if he didn't have such a hold on you, he'd drag a single digit between them just to test the waters

♡ he'll just have to use his tongue instead

♡ the second his tongue dips into your heat, there's no going back. whatever ounce of reluctance that was buried deep inside has evaporated, gone with all self-control.

♡ it's all teeth and tongue, lips, nose, and chin, any bit of his face that he can rub against your slippery cunt. he can't breathe, too excited, too smothered. he'd rather die than give this up for a second.

♡ you're startled at first, confusion leaving your lips, evident on your face if he looked up for a quarter of a second, but he couldn't, he doesn't, stays buried between your legs, surrounded by you, thighs pressed against his ears so when you tell him...

♡ "stop for second, samu, wait, what? baby, hold on, what's happenin?"

♡ he can't hear a thing, not that he would've stopped if he'd heard you crystal clear.

♡ you taste just as sweet as he thought, maybe even sweeter, hints of salt and thicker than he imagined, swallowing whatever was too much for his mouth. you coat his tongue, prodding at your hole because every time he does, you gush for him even more.

♡ when you give in, not quite understanding, but knowing that warmth is spreading to every inch of your skin and your throat is getting dry, your body relaxes, melts into the bed, hands parting his natural roots. you're far too lethargic to fight it anyway, so you might as well enjoy it.

♡ atsumu could stay here forever, gracious and happy as he sloppily worked his tongue between your lips. if he wasn't so pussy-drunk, he'd be more meticulous, care more about the shape of his tongue and the placement, but he's so hard, cock straining against the insides of his jeans, and his tongue feels so good flicking over and jabbing into your hole, but he needs to be inside you.

♡ he pulls away, watching a thin string connect his lips to yours, cock throbbing at the thought of being surrounded by it, and he whimpers, unapologetically because you won't remember it in the morning and he's been waiting so fucking long to take you

♡ "samu, you came home early for me, lemme repay you, know you love it, baby."

♡ you sit up and before he knows it, you're already crawling towards him, hands out towards his belt, innocent pleas in your eyes that he couldn't deny even if the plea wasn't for something he's fisted his cock to on many occasions.

♡ atsumu places his hands over yours, helping you along as you try to undo his belt and button. you're fumbling even with his guidance, rushing to get it off as you scooch closer and closer with each passing second.

♡ you don't waste any time once his cock is released from it's confines, breath hitching for a moment as you sit back into your heels and just look at him. it makes atsumu's heart flutter in a way that it shouldn't, the admiration in your eyes as you look up at him.

♡ your mind is racing, not all there, and you don't remember osamu's cock perfectly, but this feels different in a way. it feels different against your palm, longer and thicker, slightly more curved, purplish head with precome beading at the slit. you have to open your mouth wider, you think, maybe, jaw aching as you take him into your mouth.

♡ oh my god, your mouth is so warm, hot wrapped around his length, head immediately bobbing so fast that he has no idea how you’re not dizzy. you don't give him any time to think or react, your fingers digging into his thighs, pushing down his jeans further as he slides down your throat deeper

♡ you're choking, gagging on his length, eyes screwed shut, throat sore, speed slowing, but that won't do. his cock sliding against your tongue, mouth so wet and warm, lips tight like a perfect little hole, he can't get enough.

♡ it felt good when you were in control, but when he grabs a fistful of your hair, it gets so much better. he's setting the pace now, no regard for the spit he's fucking out of your mouth or his balls slapping against your chin, just enjoying how willingly your throat accepts every inch.

♡ your nails are digging into his thighs, arms weak, but trying, as they push against him, protests garbled because your mouth is so full. he can't understand you, so he keeps fucking your throat harder, harder, harder, harder until his grip on your head is shaking

♡ it takes you far too long to feel okay again, out of breath, coughing to regain composure and to get more air in your lungs and because there's finally nothing in your throat, blinking away tear after fat tear, wiping them with the backs of your hands.

♡ "samu, fuck, baby, that hurt a lot."

♡ your tone is hoarse, eyes evading from shyness or fear, it didn't really matter. he was moving you in the midst of it all, positioning you on your back again, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist, but they keep sliding so he places them on his shoulders.

♡ and it should be a warning sign, a cautionary tale, something to deter him from going too far again, but fuck, if you don't look so pretty trying to feel better. fuck, if it doesn't make his cock twitch when you sniffle from the tears. fuck, if he wouldn't be lying if he said your voice didn't sound even sweeter just like this.

♡ "sorry, doll, just felt too good."

♡ he can hear how disingenuous it sounds, just the apology, not the rest, but you don't catch it. you nod along, no verbal acceptance, nothing to tell him it's okay, but humming anyway.

♡ but he doesn't wait for a reply or an okay to move on from what had just happened, it doesn't even enter his mind as a possibility. he's so close. if he pressed his hips forward the tiniest bit, he could feel you. his cock won't stop leaking, dripping precome against the sheets, going to waste.

♡ so he rests his cock between your legs, rubbing against you slowly, just feeling the drag of your skin against his, leaking onto your stomach.

♡ his head slips between your lips, no hand to guide it, moving with gravity and the push of his hips. when he feels the warmth, the wetness coating his spongy head, his hips buck on instinct, rutting again in an attempt to replicate the feeling again

♡ he rubs the tip between your folds, hips canting forwards to feel even more of you, exhaling all of the air out of his lungs when you envelope the head

♡ youre so wet, so fucking wet, pussy drooling onto the sheets below you, and atsumu is staring in awe, swallowing thickly at how involuntary your need is for him

♡ “want me fuck this slutty pussy, dontcha?”

♡ he mumbles it under his breath, not giving you even a moment to think about it before sinking into you, burning hot walls choking his cock almost immediately

♡ he had only used his tongue, hadn’t stuck a single finger inside you to prepare your tight hole for his girth. he didn’t let you adjust either, slid right inside you, pulling you onto him and pressing his hips to meet you until they were flush against your thighs

♡ he wasn’t regretting it. not even as the size took your breath away or the subtle protests left your throat, wasn’t pulling out or slowing down, either, only offered an unapologetic apology as he kept a steady pace

♡ “baby, samu, canyou slow down m please, cant take it, hurts.”

♡ “sorry, pretty, i know, sorry.”

♡ he couldn’t regret it, not when your fleshy walls hugged his cock so tight, squeezed every inch, arousal slicking him with every thrust, the most lewd noises bouncing off the walls right back to his ears only encouraging him to fuck into you harder

♡ once you get used to it, the pain of the stretch subsiding, you won’t stop squirming, moving, whimpering and moaning with every drive of his hips, muttering words too incoherently to make out

♡ you look so cute beneath him. your hair is a mess, head pressed so far into the mattress, unable to stay still as atsumu fucks you harder. you’re not looking at him, can’t focus on one thing for too long, but he can’t stop looking at you

♡ he couldnt if he tried, eyes glued to you as you convulse, clenching around him, walls fluttering as you cum from penetration alone

♡ and, well, atsumu's obviously better for you anyway, right? because you're fucked out beneath him, recovering from your orgasm, already being driven to another one, eyes rolled back so far that you can feel the strain, tears streaming down your cheeks, sobbing so pretty, begging him for more

♡ "please, please, please, it's so good, more please, feels so good, samu, fuck, oh my god, please don't stop, baby, please."

♡ you won't stop asking for more, praising his every motion, slurring gratitudes, and sobbing out osamu's name, telling him that he's never fucked you this good before, because he hasn't

♡ osamu has never fucked you this good before, with such urgency and desperation. atsumu's fucking you as if this is the last time he'll ever get to, because it will be. he's savoring it, committing to memory how your gummy walls massage his length, how perfectly tight your hole is, how eagerly you're sucking him.

♡ your hole is so snug around his fat cock, it feels like he has to force his way inside with every slam of his hips, like he’s splitting you open, your cunt molding around every vein, every curve, clenching around every throb.

♡ it's like you were made for him.

♡ you were made for him.

♡ you were made for h i m.

♡ he knows from praises tumbling from your lips that he’s pleasing you in ways that osamu just isn’t capable of, that’s not atsumu’s fault. every single one of your reactions is pushing him further, harder.

♡ on your walk back, he had some sort of resolve, could separate his wants from reality, from what could actually happen, but now the line was blurred. no, not blurred, it was completely gone. he was getting exactly what he wanted, he could have whatever he wanted, nothing to stop him, nothing to hold him back

♡ and you just kept solidifying it in his mind, kept proving him right time and time again with your noises and your involuntary jerks, how you would cum around his cock without even announcing it, so absolutely wrecked that it wasn’t even a thought in your mind

♡ he slinks deeper and deeper into this power-hungry state, never wanting the feeling to stop, your orgasms a necessity for him, for his pleasure. his regret and remorse are slipping through a shallow grip that he has no intent on retaking, justifications as useless as your warnings of discomfort

♡ it’s not enough. not enough. need more. he needs more. needs it harder. has one arm wrapped around your thighs, tight together against his chest, one digging into your hip, slamming his cock inside of you.

♡ he’s savored it for too long. it’s burned into his mind, the way your folds part for his head, the image of your hole sucking him in as he pulled back on repeat every time he closed his eyes. he didn’t need to savor it any longer. he needed everything you were capable of giving and more.

♡ the uncomfortable groans turn to winces. the winces turn to soft mutters of osamu’s name. the soft mutters turn to audible wait, wait… waits. the waits turn to stops followed by pleases. your hands are on him, no strength behind your pushes as you try to ground yourself

♡ “wait, stop, please, it’s too much, fuck, it hurts, stop for a second, please.”

♡ but it’s okay. it’s fine. ♡ who cares?

♡ atsumu doesn’t have to worry about that. atsumu doesn’t have to listen to you. atsumu doesn’t care. because… why would he?

♡ atsumu isn’t fucking you so relentlessly, so deep that the tip of his cock is kissing your cervix, pain shooting through your lower body, spreading through your chest, eyes closing harshly so tears don’t come spilling, breath taken from your lungs.

♡ atsumu isn’t choking you so brutally that your fingernails are drawing blood from his wrists, grip like it’s life or death as you claw at whatever part of his arm you can reach. each thrust somehow cutting off even more of your airway

♡ atsumu isn’t throwing you around the bed, manhandling and forcing you into positions so violently that in your drunken, wobbly state, you fall off the bed, crashing and colliding with the floor. the humiliation almost worse than the pain.

♡ atsumu isn’t the one that gets onto the floor, onto his knees, and lifts your lower half up to him, ass against his thighs as he slides back into you, fucking you mercilessly, subtle burns forming on your back from the rough carpet.

♡ atsumu isn’t muttering praises, your name, whatever actually comes to his mind as you grip onto him continually, orgasms like rolling waves, growing in intensity and subsiding, but never truly leaving.

♡ you’re sobbing, snot and tears and spit sloppy all over your face, quiet attempts to stop him still spilling despite his active ignorance. and it should turn him off, but it makes it so much better, so much more real, the effects he has on you.

♡ and it pushes him over the edge, your strangled, weak pleas and contrasting bodily reactions, and just how perfectly made for him you are.

♡ “gonna cum, pretty girl, gonna cum, doll, deep inside ya, pretty.”

♡ it’s not a request, but you seem to think it is, eyes blown wide for the first time tonight, panic instantly taking over your features, your limbs.

♡ “no. don’t. please, i can’t- i’m not- you can’t. don’t. please, samu, don’t. seriously.”

♡ he almost wishes that you didn’t protest, not because he needs you to want it, but for your sake. it’s so easy, so much more satisfying to press his hips against your flesh, balls twitching against your ass as he unloads deep inside you, cock pulsing so powerfully that you can feel each one, can match it to each thick rope that paints you

♡ you want it to stop. you wait for it to stop. every stream feels like it’s the last one, like any more would spill out of your hole, no matter how tightly clenched it was around him. it doesn’t spill out, atsumu makes sure of that. and it’s not the last one, there’s still more, so much you can taste it, so much that you’re not sure how it’s all stuffed inside of you.

♡ “perfect, so perfect for me, baby, just for me, all mine, marked ya so yer all mine.”

♡ he’s half-tempted to leave it inside of you, let it drip out through the night, stain your sheets dark with his cum, and let you find it in the morning when you stand up and feel it drool onto your thigh.

♡ but he can’t do that. he knows that he can’t, pulls out slowly, chest heaving as he reaches down, two fingers to catch whatever milky seed drips out of you, pushing it back into your gaping hole, fluttering so tenuously from being so empty.

♡ he rubs the thick, sticky substance over your puffy, red lips, over your swollen, sensitive clit, and you’re crying again, trying so hard to squeeze your legs together without squeezing the rest of the cum out of your ruined cunt

♡ “yer so messy, baby”

♡ he couldn’t keep it inside you, he would’ve missed this pretty fucking sight.

♡ and he couldn’t keep it inside you, because osamu would never do that. and the person fucking you right now isn’t atsumu. the person who came so fucking deep inside of you isn’t atsumu.

♡ it’s osamu.

♡ osamu is the name falling from your lips and osamu is, in your mind, the person who is fucking you so rough that your orgasms are coming, repeatedly, constantly, from force, not enjoyment, the person who, against your very verbal and phsyical nonconsent, came inside of you.

♡ but you won’t remember in the morning how horrible “your boyfriend” was to you, anyway, no. you’ll wake up with some bruises from the fall, a soreness in the depths of your throat, some burns you’ll never be able to find, and a foggy recollection that… that.. someone?? something happened last night, but the details will be sparse

♡ the details will be so sparse and the memory will be a grain of sand compared to the mountain that is the actuality of the situation. you probably won’t remember this moment, despite the time that’s ticked by and how badly he wishes that you will.

♡ he doesn’t harp on it for too long, is too busy soaking in the aftermath that he’s created.

♡ fuck, you look so perfect with his cum pouring out of you that it pains him to clean it, hesitantly diving his fingers into you so he can coax the mess out. eyes fixated on how empty you’re starting to look as more and more leaks out of you and he refuses to let it go to waste

♡ he coats his fingers with it, scoops as much as he can with his fingertips and places them against your lips.

♡ “open. don’t waste it.”

♡ it’s not as sweet as the rest of his words, but you don’t seem to notice, parting your lips slowly as he slips his digits between them, cum glossy on your lips and dribbling down your chin. he’s fast to catch the mess, shoving his fingers down your throat as soon as he wipes it away

♡ he doesn’t stop until his fingers come out clean, the only thing left a thin sheen of slick and cum against your thighs that he kisses away

♡ he hopes that if nothing else you remember his cum against your tongue, the texture and the slightly salty taste. he hopes it lingers until the morning when you’re sober and aware and that a heaviness sits in your stomach that you can’t quite place.

♡ you’ve gone silent now, no longer pleading for him to stop or asking questions, lips a quivering line as he helps you into bed. his touch is ghostly now, so soft that you can barely feel it in comparison to his previously painful hold.

♡ he dresses you in one of osamu’s shirts, carefully rolling the fabric over your sensitive skin. and then he tucks you in, pulling the blanket up to your chest, pushing the hair out of your face, wiping your sweaty forehead, and he kisses you.

♡ leans down and presses his lips onto yours, hands clasping together on the base of your head to bring you deeper to offset your flinch, savoring the last of his moments with you, and then pulling away.

♡ he says it from the doorframe, hand hovering over the light switch

♡ “goodnight, yn, i love you.”

♡ and then he leaves, shutting off the light and closing the door leaving you all alone

♡ in the morning, you’ll wake up next to a passed out osamu who was also disgustingly drunk and atsumu will knock on the door lightly because he can’t not have a control on the the first conversation hat you and osamu have

♡ because osamu is smart and you’re smart and you’ll both connect the dots

♡ so atsumu knocks on the door and you shuffle to the door and he motions into the kitchen, and this is where he sees how good your memory actually is, waiting with hitched breath to see if you object and slam the door on him

♡ but you don’t. you follow, still a bit dazed and groggy, but dragging your feet against the floor as you make your way into the kitchen a few steps behind him. he’s already made you breakfast, is brewing you a cup of coffee and you don’t look apprehensive, you look elated

♡ the conversation at the table is small, you’re mostly focused on eating and he’s mostly focused on trying not to think too hard about last night.

♡ did you taste him when you woke up?

♡ osamu eventually makes his way into the kitchen as well and you are all over him, dumbly soft hanging onto his shoulders, leaning your body weight against him and atsumu is gazing at your body, slowly undressing you in his head, relishing in the picture he’s painting himself because you’re too in love to notice

♡ and you’re breathy moans are filling his head along with the plush fat of your thighs in his hands and the sting of his hips from pounding into you too hard and he’s trying, but not hard enough, to not get hard at breakfast

♡ yours and osamu’s conversation is a back and forth of recollections of the previous night, smiles and gratitudes and “did you have fun?”s and atsumu’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

♡ then it does.

♡ “god, samu, baby, i’m so sore from last night. you were so rough with me, i mean- it was really fucking good, but i just feel it everywhere this morning.”

♡ osamu goes to answers, narrows his eyes and titles his head and wracks his brain for the memory of fucking you. he was really drunk last night… did he? when he got home? no… right?

♡ atsumu sees the wheels turning in his head and cuts it off before it can progress any further.

♡ “no, i took ya home last night. got ya in bed safe and sound. well, i mean, ya did fall off the bed because ya didn’t want to go to sleep and were tryin to get up and tripped over yer blankets, but no, ya got home and went straight to bed.”

♡ “i don’t know, maybe some weird dream?? or?? i don’t know. i’m not sure what happened after osamu got home.”

♡ but, god, fuck, he knows. of course, he knows. he’s been thinking about it all morning. he’s thinking about it right now. he’s remembering you around him, you screaming out for him, you fucked out beneath him, and he’s trying to hide how much it’s effecting him under the table.

♡ he’s remembering every single detail that you can’t fucking remember, running through his head like he video tapped the entire thing (and now he’s cursing himself for not filming the entire thing)

♡ maybe next time.

♡ there has to be a next time.

♡ he couldn’t live with the thought of never being able to fuck you again.

♡ he has to excuse himself, muttering some excuse about feeling dirty after being in the club all last night, and it’s somewhat true, but not really the reason he needed to leave, why he needed to sneak off to the shower

♡ he can’t get you out of his head, how could he. and he’s so fucking hard, throbbing against his thin shorts, palming himself through his boxers as he waits for the water to heat up.

♡ fisting his cock as the hot water drips down his body, steam filling his lungs with every quick inhale as he tries to replicate how snug your cunt was, thinking, coming up with any scenario in his head to fuck you again.

♡ he has to have you again, whatever it takes.

♡ it doesn’t matter if he has to get you drunk again, drug you, fuck you while you’re sleeping, it doesn’t matter how unwilling or how incoherent you were, he was going to be inside of you again.

//

♡ except..

♡ except…. being drunk again implies that you were drunk in the first place

♡ but you hadn’t had a drink for hours before atsumu had taken you home. you had dumped your drinks or swapped them for water or forget them on barstools and tables. you hadn’t drank for hours, but no one knew that. only you knew that.

♡ because you watched atsumu watch you all night, sure, but more than that, you’ve watched atsumu watch you for years. you’ve seen him stare at osamu with an envy so familiar that it hurt and you’ve seen him stick around with you in situation he normally wouldn’t just to walk close to you

♡ but you had osamu and you loved osamu and would never cheat on osamu, but if you could create a scenario… well, maybe you wouldn’t have to be the bad guy.

♡ maybe you would commit osamu’s name to memory, staring at his brother with that stupid fucking smirk on his face. they were twins, yes, but they didn’t look the same, no, not when you really looked.

♡ atsumu always looked smug, like he was hiding a secret from the world that no one else was good enough to share it with, and he always looked happy, like his life was so incredible that he didn’t have any choice in the matter, and atsumu looked like he could destroy you without even trying.

♡ and maybe you would bat your eyes at atsumu like you always did at osamu so that he couldn’t tell the difference and you would hang off of him your entire walk home so that he knew you were depending on him

♡ you didn’t know at the time that you had bitten off a bit more than you could chew, but that didn’t matter, because you were living out an all too familiar fantasy in your head

♡ if your plan was to let atsumu get exactly what he wanted while you got exactly what you wanted, then, is that so bad? and, well, if osamu ever found out.. well.. you were the victim.. you were so drunk

♡ “samu, i- i thought it was you, baby… i didn’t know.. he was.. he was so rough, i should’ve known you would never treat me like that, but i didn’t… i was so.. he..”

♡ if osamu found out, he would never blame you.

♡ he’d know that it’s not your fault. it wasn’t your fault that you had been taken advantage of so horribly by someone you and him both trusted so much.

♡ that’s… that’s not cheating ♡

♡ leave a tip ! ♡ ♡ reblogs & likes appreciated ♡

Yandere who’s the mother to your partner.

Their child had always been a little shit, going out of their way from when they were younger to make their mothers life hell. Their father had been practically non existant from their lives and their mother tried everything to keep them well looked after, loved and feed. Taking on multiple jobs to keep giving extra money for going out with friends and trips but never did anything for herself.

Still her child never said or did one nice thing from her and leeched off her until they moved away too late into their lives.

She had lost her motherly care for her child when they hit late teens as she finally saw they would never change but she kept looking after them till the end.

Then one day they call her up asking her to meet their s/o, you.

She doesn’t think much of it and goes into auto-pilot mode to prepare everything, puts a fake smile on when her child walks in but quickly drops it when she see’s you.

Immediately loving you from when she see’s you shyly saying hi and handing her wrapped fruit and profusely apologising that you didn’t cook anything or bring anything expensive.

She quickly snaps out of it though and ushers you inside while cooing at you and saying how the fruit is more than okay and how much she’s happy you thought of her, praising you for buying such fresh and picking the perfect ripe fruit.

Your s/o thinking nothing of it as they walk around the house like….. their own home (because it was) and going about dinner with their mother not really talking much as their mother askes you as many questions that won’t make you uncomfortable or pushy.

She is over the moon when you click with her and her eyes basically turn into hearts as you ask HER questions and help her clear the plates. She can just tell you’re a good cookie at heart and definitely gives you HER number to keep in contact.

Humming away while she sweeps the house while thinking of how wonderful you are she stops when she gets to the thought about you being with her child.

“I’m happy they found someone like (Y/N)….” 

Because she is happy that your wonderful but the thought of you being with HER child leaves this taste in her mouth.

She shakes it off though and continues her night.

--

She calls and texts as much as she can, what turned into going to her house once a month turned into every few weeks then every week then almost every day.

Now you were a little awkward, shy and apprehensive at first. Not being good with new people but you were just so nice how could she not look over all that? And you being a shy little cutie just made her fall in love with you more!

It’s not like you really minded, your s/o’s mother is unbelievably nice to you? Score! Especially since your own relationship with your mother was rocky to say the least. Finally having a loving care taker figure in your life made you so happy, and that was shown in how you would smile more and how much your mental health improved. 

The s/o in question didn’t care, you were getting along with their mother? Cool. 

It’s not like they were bad, it was a good relationship. You could bond over things and you loved them but… it felt like they loved the idea of you more than you yourself. 

But you always shook that feeling off because this was the first okay relationship you have had ever, and now you have an amazing mother figure in your life!! How could you ruin something like this!

…..

Until she can see how you try not to grimace at the thought of her child, when you seem like you don’t want to leave but you have to. She can tell what your thinking because she has BEEN there and knows her child, she could let it slide for herself but not you. Oh no not poor you.

You always had hinted that bad stuff had happened to you, glossing over people taking advantage over you and close family hurting and gaslighting you to think it was your own fault for stuff but when she prods a little bit one day and you just sob and sink into her arms that’s when the damn breaks.

S/o didn’t do anything, you promise! and everything has been going fine, good even. You finally have someone to talk to! Her! It’s going amazing!!

But life piles on and on and even though this has been going well other things happen and it just adds onto the pile that’s been forming for months, its like when one good thing happens 5 bad things happen right after and your s/o isn’t much help. You feel like a burden going to them so you don’t. 

When she hears this she nearly goes crazy right then and there but she just pulls you into her warm arms that feel like a safe barrier to you and the outside world, your still sitting in your chair but she’s over you and pressing your face into her stomach and it feels like everything melts away.

Not just the day or bad months, it feels like all those years of hurt come back out because you finally feel safe and all you can do is wail as you rub your wet face into her shirt. 

It feels like eternity with her rubbing your back and whispering sweet words into your ear, encouraging you to steady your breathing by purposely slowing hers down, before you start to lessen your whole body convulsing sobs into little sniffles and whines. 

“Sweet heart you are the most strong person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, you keep going when things are constantly bringing you down. I’m proud of you.”

Those last few words send you into another sob session but you just hold her tighter and she kisses the crown of your head.

She soothes you through your endless amount of tears, whispering soft words and humming soothingly. Fetching you a glass of water to rehydrate and invited you to help her make some of her specialty chocolate chip cookies.  The rest of the day is spent in giggles and laughter in her warm and cozy kitchen, then eating one too many of her delicious gooey cookies before she puts you down for a nap.  And just like today when she comforted you, she would be there to comfort you a few days later when your s/o suddenly goes missing. Promising she will always be there for you, telling you to sleep over at her house, saying its no trouble at all and that she doesnt want to be alone at a time like this. The house just feels so empty for the mother now! How cruel! You wouldn’t want her to be all alone now would you, not when she’s oh so nice and makes the best yummiest foods. 

All while she keeps the secret that she was the one dispose of her no good wretched child…. And her child’s disappearance was almost identical to her cheating husbands…. Hmm what a coincidence.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I have a sweet spot for MILF and DILF's and I secretly love this character already so if you want this lovely yandere to be a staple yandere on my Tumblr please please tell me ♡ Mwah~

Hi! I love reading your story's, can I request a yandere Hannibal x fem reader please?😊💕

It’s not surprising that Hannibal plays the long game but Hannibal also makes the game. 

It was easy for him to set up the game, almost laughably easy. He was a renowned therapist who helps police on cases, strong, smart, made a name for himself- a good name. Your parents didn’t even have a chance to have doubts when he came to ask for your hand in marriage. If anything your parents were elated, over the moon that you, the black sheep of the family, had the eye of a man like Hannibal. They practically threw poor little you to into his hands. 

One thing Hannibal likes is politeness, manners, and no matter when or how Hannibal had meet you he was struck with the need to understand you, figure you out and not in his usual killing urge type of way. After a few months or even years of following you around he finally realises what it is, love. 

Does he really think its love? Not really, its something deeper, more sinister than love. He would rip apart anyone that would try to hurt you, he wants to keep you safe with such feral intensity it’s not sane. But he himself can’t even breathe at the thought of hurting you himself either so he chalks it up with a simple word. Love. 

He should have seen it coming, really he should’ve since he had been watching and ‘protecting’ you for so long, but he’s still struck shocked when you fight back your holy matrimony with such pettiness and sass. You couldn’t stop your parents from practically forcing you to agree to marry him, getting dressed up in a dress you didn’t really care about, everything too grand and nothing like what the little girl in you envisioned. So, in retaliation you tried everything to get him to re-think his decision, anything to get him to divorce you, even if it meant being a sassy brat. Turning your nose up at his delicious food just to piss him off, doing little things you knew he hated just to push his buttons.

It’s cute, he thinks, really cute that you think being a brat would stop his heart from yearning for you so much his physically body aches being away from you. But you aren’t a brat, are you? Your just pretending because your sick of your parents stupid pressuring expectations, hating how they dictated every little thing in your life and now your ‘life’ partner. 

Every time you push and shove and take bits and pieces of his sanity it just fuels his obsession for you, every time he feels himself get frustrated or irritated it just makes him more head over heels over you. Staring at you with hearts practically in his eyes as you make his blood boil, he takes everything in stride. With a polite smile on his lips and insanity in his heart eyes. 

But he does feel bad, really he does, he feels bad that you have terrible no good rotten parents who are ready throw you to the wolves once they get their greed filled, or bad enough for a man who feels no remorse or guilt. Maybe its pity, he thinks, like how one looks at a wounded animal. But he could never see you at a level as an animal, no matter how adorably cute you are. Maybe a goddess then, a fallen goddess, he worships you as if you’re a goddess anyways, taking your sass and anger as some sort of twisted love from a holier being. 

He can’t help the feeling of amusement that bubbles up when he see’s you try to be a brat, but the manners engraved into your very soul peek out, like your body and mind are fighting on your decision to pretend to be mean when your really such a sweet nice darling. 

The little ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ that come out when you demand something from him or the sweet little ‘no thank you’ that you give him when you pretend to glare at him with faux hatred in your eyes, because you didn’t really hate him. How could you? He was unbelievably sweet and attentive, picking up on the little things you didn’t even know about yourself until he picks up on it. He was the best husband anyone could ask for, in and out, even if he could be a little serious, cold and calculative at times. Hannibal shields you from everyone, including your parents, shutting them down so quickly and efficiently when they start their bullshit of bringing you down it seems natural. 

And one day your fake anger towards him slips, your tipsy on alcohol and his love, its all consuming but it feels oddly soothing, like cool balm on an open wound. You stumble and almost trip, but his arms are already there to catch you, ready to do anything to keep you safe and without thinking you lean up and press a soft, albeit clumsy, kiss on his lips. 

Something in Hannibal snaps. The kiss, as quick and fleeting as it was felt like heaven. Like he was reborn, like for once in his life he could finally breathe.

You gave this dirty, blood-stained sinner a slice of heaven and now he’s your most devoted worshiper at your alter. For better, or for worse. 

~~

Hannibal has you pressed in a mean mating press, one of your legs thrown over his broad shoulders. The thin handmade anklet he got you for your wedding present, dainty and small, designed from start to finish by him with a little ‘H’ dangling on it chimes in his ear and makes his head spin. 

“I- god- I love you so much.” He groans out, sweat clinging to his brow as his messy blonde hair sticks to his skin. “Goddess." He murmurs into your skin, pressing his lips against your ankle, kissing all the way up to the side of your knee as he saours the way your skin feels on his lips. Pulling back he licks your sweat that smeared on his lips and he smirks. 

 His pupils are wide and blown as he gazes down at you with so much love and tenderness it hurts. Sweat clung to his muscular frame as he threw his head back, groaning so low you feel it in your tummy.

Your in worse shape than him, yourpractically writhing under him, not able to escape the torturous pleasure as he puts all his weight down onto you. As sweaty if not more than him, twisting and bucking and shaking, hair messed and sprawled out on the bed beneath you, eye brows knitted. Your breath being selfishly stolen by him as he takes and takes, gasps the only thing able to leaven you as well as broken keens and whimpers. You had long stopped trying to muffle your embarrassingly lewd noises, he had practically growled at you to let them out, not letting you hide anything from him. 

Sparks zing up your spine as he hits deep and a wail leaves you, your hand coming to push at his lower stomach, nails scratching over his muscles. Hannibal moans and his eyes roll at the feeling, quickly snatching your hand he slams it softly next to your head. His fingers entwining with his as he locks them together. 

Long deep slow strokes makes your brain melt out of your ears, brain gone all fuzzy as you get addicted to him and his touch. 

“Take it sweetheart, I know you can.” His breath hitches as he forces your thighs open wider to accommodate him, he looms over your more and the change of position makes you cry out. “Let me worship you my goddess, your mine, all mine.”  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Woo wee thats finally done! I hope my first proper attempt at smut was ok I think there was another ask for Hannibal but it was H/C's, I'LL GET TO YOU MY LOVELY I PROMISE 😭 Im trying to get back into writing but its hard, im sorry but I will get to you all. Some might be before others just because some things kick start my writing process 🥺 But please keep sending requests I love the ideas and support even if it takes me a bit to get to them. Hope you enjoy lovelies.

~Mwah ♡

Gojo being a perv 🤭 stealing and smelling his little girls panties, watching her shower, taking pics under her skirt when she’s bent over for too long, him dry humping her when she’s sleep in nothing but panties leaving a stain on it 😩

PANTY STEALING DADDY GOJOOOOOOOO(ФоФ) TW INCEST!!!!

*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚ *  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚

He’s unabashed, he gives zero fucks about people knowing how obsessed he is with his daughter. He’s got an up-skirt picture of your pussy as his lock screen. He likes looking down at it when he’s in boring meetings, gently tracing the image of you plush lips pressed against the cotton of your panties.

If he notices someone stealing a glance at his phone for a beat too long, he’ll come home pissy and punish you for getting another man’s cock hard.

“Stupid little slut,” His voice harsh and low, only escaping between gritted teeth, “maybe I’ll bring you into the office with me some time, show everyone who this pussy belongs to.”

omg big bro gojo who spoils u and is so icky and gross towards u omg gojo-nii i luv him sm 🙏🙏

✧tw incest✧:･ﾟ( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:̲̅]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ ) ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:̲̅]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ ) ✧tw incest✧

ʙɪɢ ʙʀᴏ!ɢᴏᴊᴏ who’s making big money and spends it all on you so you feel like you owe him.

He takes you back-to-school shopping before the semester starts, going into every boutique and luxury store, swiping his black card and refusing to let you hold any bags.

ʙɪɢ ʙʀᴏ!ɢᴏᴊᴏ sits in the little dressing room chair with his hands behind his head, enjoying the show you give him while trying on almost everything in the store. He makes you stand in between his knees so he can inspect the length of one of the skirts.

“I don’t know, Princess,” Gojo’s fingers brush the skin of your exposed thigh, “this one’s a little long.” You bat at your brother’s chest, turning to walk back behind the curtain.

ʙɪɢ ʙʀᴏ!ɢᴏᴊᴏ catches your wrists and shoves you back into the little dressing room. He wraps one hand over your mouth to catch your whimpering.

“On second thought,” Gojo bunches up the skirt so he can hold it around your stomach, “I like this one. You’re gonna need a pretty top to match, huh?”

WRITTEN

CHARACTERS. kibutsuji muzan, akaza, doma ︴WC. 4.8k

SYNOPSIS. your parents had raised you to believe that everything happened for a reason, that everything was connected to fate in a sense. it just made no sense how they chose you, of all people.

WARNINGS. PURGE!AU, DARK CONTENT, NONCON, fear play, fuck-or-die, choking, no prep, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampies, blood-sucking, cum-eating, breaking bones, biting, elements of cannibalism, sadism, reader loses consciousness, giyuu is featured as a love interest; this is by far the grossest thing i’ve ever written.

✉️. for those who might have forgotten, marechi blood is the rare blood type that demons go crazy over as it’s super intoxicating.

this is the prequel of another 2K SPECIAL fic i have, featuring tengen and sanemi: SALVATION — which means you can read this as part one :)

“gotcha!”

your loud shriek echoed across the nightmarish forest at the words being whispered right into your ear.

leaves were rustling and branches snapping to your left and right, behind and in front of you, but there was no one.

at the beginning of this cat-and-mouse game, your senses were still good enough to somehow catch up with the demon chasing you down. but now? you had entirely lost track of time, but it had to be more than two hours of futilely hiding behind and on top of trees, before hearing or feeling him close, and escaping further into the woods.

your attempts to outsmart the upper moon were in vain, you had realized that at the very beginning. there was no way that you, a mealy kanoe ranked demon slayer, could overpower or even just run from that monster. you had nothing on him.

DOMA, upper moon two. it was terrible, terrible luck that you two had crossed paths. you were not prepared in the slightest. one could argue that as a demon slayer, you had to be prepared for anything at any given time.

but meeting one of the strongest demons while on a mission to eliminate demons that were actually fitting of your rank had not been in your plan. you hadn’t asked for or expected any of this, actually.

where your crow was, you had no idea either. it wasn’t even there to give you directions into this dizzying, dark forest of death where demons were said to lure innocent girls in.

you felt cheated. it was odd how you hadn’t gotten sent on a single mission so far, and suddenly, you had. where was that damn bird when you needed it? it could’ve flown off to notify any demon slayers nearby for help hours ago. it was like that useless crow of yours had set you up for failure

“okay, you know what?” you stopped running suddenly, hand placed on the sword fixated against your hip as you turned around. while gasping for air, you wiped at your sweaty forehead, hissing at the gash on your upper arm. “i’m done running and playing games. just come out.”

upon recovering your stamina a bit, enough to properly utilize your enhanced senses, your eyes sharply snapped to one of the trees, revealing a shadowy figure sitting cross-legged on a thick tree branch, waving down at you sweetly.

“tired already?” the lilt in his voice was mocking, condescending almost. “how disappointing. i was just starting to have fun!”

the light of the full moon illuminating through wavering leaves revealed the demon in question.

wide, rainbow-colored eyes creased when they met yours as the moon shone even brighter to flash you his rank as if once again telling you you didn’t stand a chance. even nature seems to have found a way to laugh in your face at a moment like this. the demons’s platinum blonde hair flowed slightly in the wind, and you felt captivated by his presence alone.

how could a demon look so… divine? it made no sense to you. he looked so perfect and pretty that you felt dizzy.

he didn’t make a move to stand up, kill you or do anything, merely opting to place his face in his palm, long, blue fingernails tapping against a pale cheek. the way he observed you made you shiver. more so when his lifeless lips stretched into a scary grin, mouth opening to reveal a set of poignant fangs to you.

the tip of his long tongue left his mouth to run over his lips and teeth at the sight and scent of your blood. it made him so delirious, and you had no idea. of course he wouldn’t let you go with a blood type as rare as yours.

your blood smelled so tasty to him that the fingers he was tapping against his cheeks cramped up, making veins pulsate on his hand and face, begging and yearning for your crimson.

he had to have you.

your heart beat so fast against your ribcage that you felt it in your throat. everything about him told you to run, to save yourself, but your head told you that it wasn’t of any use. there was no getting away from this demon.

“you do look exhausted, though,” he added after being met with nothing but silence on your behalf, “is the demon hunter life not treating you well? i do know something else that might. wanna hear?”

you didn’t want to hear what he had to say. before you could tell him to zip it, he already continued talking. “you have two choices, darling,” he cooed, lifting his index and middle finger as if you were illiterate. “i either devour you, or you become a demon. directly under yours truly!”

huh?

doma totally disregarded the irritation on your face as he chuckled into his palm. it was basically a monologue at this point. he was so full of himself. like he was some sort of god. there was a high chance he thought of himself that way.

“well, what’s it going to be?” he pressed, “you should be grateful i’m even giving you a choice, sweetie.” when he again didn’t get a response, he stifled a yawn while his hand dug into his skin, drawing blood. “this… is getting boring—”

“do you ever shut up?” you scowled at him, and his innocent smile dropped instantly at your words and the glare on your face. “i’m trying to conjure up enough energy to fight you, and all you do is get on my nerves.”

truth to be told, it was most likely the adrenaline of staring death in the face that made you respond to the powerful demon like that. maybe there was also a pinch of despair upon dying so soon included there. you were just 19, your life was supposed to begin just now.

in reality, it had ended when you’d been pushed to join the demon slayer corps. in a family that had strictly let all of its children join said organization for generations, you were no exception.

“you’ll understand soon enough,” your mother had told you plainly while your father wouldn’t even face you, “you were born for this. to avenge our ancestors.”

looking from your sword that you carefully retracted from its sheath, then back to doma, almost made you chuckle.

this was the demon kanae kocho, former flower pillar and sister of the current insect pillar, had given her life fighting against. it wasn’t even in the equation that you could inflict any kind of injury on him.

but, you were born for this. this was written.

“for that comment alone, you’d be in pieces already by my hands,” doma pouted, feigning to be hurt, “but since you are so keen on fighting me, i will grant you that wish. oh, how generous of me!”

the stoicism was still deeply etched in your features as you concentrated your breathing while the hand you had wrapped around the sword’s handle was shaking. doma waited patiently for you to attack, smile reappearing on his lips as he smelled your fear.

you smelled delicious. he couldn’t wait to feast on you. he had always looked forward to eating young, pretty women like you, but this was different. this was an excitement he’d never felt before. and he knew exactly why.

even in your concentrated state, you failed to notice the two other strong presences approaching where you two were. they hadn’t expected that doma actually found someone as stupid as you to enter this forest on a day like this.

before you could utter out your breathing style and its form, a cold hand found the back of your neck from behind, the slightest touch being enough to send you flying against the closest tree.

the next time you opened your eyes, you found yourself on the ground, staining the soil and grass beneath you with the blood you were hacking up.

that one blow was so powerful — hell, it wasn’t even a strike. it was just a hand touching you. what kind of creature could be so powerful?

with great efforts, you supported yourself on your hands to sit up, opening your left eye slowly as you now had blood flowing all over your right one from a gash on your forehead.

when your open eye drifted ahead and then higher, you were met with a pair of red, devilish eyes. your eye covered in blood snapped open, both of them growing wide at the man — there was no way in hell he was a human — standing in front of you.

“how weak,” he uttered, while you could barely breathe, paralyzed on the spot at how much energy radiated off of him. he was dressed in all black, in rather formal wear, definitely looking out of place.

his skin looked too pale to be normal. and, you felt your heart dropping all the way to your gut when he breathed through his mouth, making sharp canines glisten under the moonlight.

you were downright petrified. what kind of demon was he? he had to be one. but he was no upper moon. was there any kind of higher group you hadn’t been told about—

“lord MUZAN! you wasted at least five ounces of her valuable blood,” doma’s chuckles sounded from behind the man — did he just say lord muzan? “i’m sure i could have defended myself. just got a little… riled up from her scent.”

muzan… muzan… oh fuck.

demon king kibutsuji muzan. he was standing in front of you in all his glory. and you couldn’t curse your fate more. his presence was so intense that the hands you’d supported against the ground wobbled, making you fall back down again as you wheezed pathetically.

his eyes seemed to twist at the sight of the blood on your face and arm, kimono ripped on your upper arm by now to reveal tender, injured skin. his pupils dilated, but other than that, he didn’t seem unhinged or distracted. it seemed like he had a resistance to whatever was up with you — which you still had no clue about.

“l-lord muzan.” another voice sounded, a more timid one, reserved even, and you were barely able to look past the demon king to see a third of the bunch. through blurry eyes, you sighted yellow eyes with blue sclerae with the writing upper moon in one, and three in the other.

you were done for.

“do not question why you are here, AKAZA. you should know very well why.” muzan didn’t bother facing either of his two henchmen. the pink-haired flinched a little at the tone of his lord, staying at a respectful distance from you as his body tensed up, while doma giddily approached the two, and you.

“stand up,” the demon king ordered you, and you gulped, shakily doing so. your sword was laying somewhere, having been flung away from your hand when he had thrown you across the woods. you wiped your face as well as possible, about to clean your palm afterward on the fabric of your ruined kimono, but doma tutted with a crazed grin. “don’t do that. leave that blood right there.”

you didn’t understand. they were about to kill and eat you anyway. so what did a little bit of your worthless blood wasted matter? you were going to be sitting in their stomachs in a few minutes from now.

“she has… no idea,” akaza stated as his pink eyebrows creased, making the blue stripes across his face shift a little as he started salivating. doma was barely able to contain his excited giggles. “oh, my… poor thing.”

“w-what?” was all you were able to muster up as you leaned against the tree trunk behind you, legs nearly giving up on you. your eyes never left those of muzan, neither did his yours. you were so scared of evaporating into thin air if you moved as much as an inch.

“that blood of yours,” the tallest of the three grinned, licking his lips, “ever heard of marechi blood?” your face went blank. there was no way. doma ended up laughing like you had just cracked the best joke.

there was no way you had the most desirable blood type. the one that demons went crazy over and ripped each other to shreds for.

akaza shook his head in disbelief. “i despise this guy,” he uttered, all while muzan stayed calm. or seemed calm on the exterior. the other two, not so much. they’d already have jumped you if their lord wasn’t here, you were certain.

they acted like it was just a mundane scenario between them. like it was normal. it probably was. but for you, not really. not when you were in limbo between life and death, quite literally.

it spilled from your lips before you could stop yourself. blame it your survival instinct.

“please don’t kill me,” you mumbled with wide doe eyes while your fingers dug into the tree trunk, causing splinters to dig into your skin that made you pull away like you had been burned.

every droplet of blood would make the situation way worse than it already was, and it did, shown by akaza’s and doma’s breaths getting heavier by the second.

“i’ll do anything. i wasn’t trying to find either of you… i was just after—”

muzan lifted his hand, and you winced, instantly cutting yourself off. “i didn’t ask you to talk, human,” he spat.

the demon slayer corps suddenly crossed your mind. would the pillars also have begged for your life like you had just done? they would have spat in your face if they saw and heard this, for sure. perhaps you should be ashamed.

but then again, none of them have been cornered by three of the strongest demons to have ever existed. none of them had ever faced the demon king, as far as you knew. or any of the upper moons.

so, you felt anything but shame in this very moment. you just wanted to get out of the situation alive.

“what do you think she meant by anything, lord muzan?” the upper moon two quipped, thick eyebrows raising as he took in the sight of your fearful self. “i’m curious. care to elaborate, stupid little thing?”

tears of despair welled up in your eyes, which made doma cock his head to the side and jut his lower lip up. “is this really necessary?” akaza glared at the other upper moon, eyes narrowing. “she is obviously scared for her life, doma. cut the crap.”

“don’t be such a buzzkill. i know you want a taste of her as well,” the long-haired demon laughed, eyes disappearing into small crescents, “they always taste so much better when scared. you wouldn’t know that, of course. but there’s a first time for everything, right lord akaza? it will be my first time tasting this blood, too.”

said demon didn’t respond. it was muzan who spoke again. “if you want to live,” his bland voice made you grit your teeth to stop your lips from trembling, “then strip.”

you had no time to process muzan’s order — literally no time, as he looked like he’d make you vanish if you didn’t comply. with your cheeks burning in shame, you slid your kimono off, making it thud to the grass beneath you as you now stood in your underwear, socks and slippers. doma suddenly stood in front of you, hand wrapped around your injured arm as he leaned forward to bite a chunk off. you choked back a scream.

“doma,” muzan warned, causing the demon to stop with sharp teeth grazing your soft skin, being so close to your blood, and he could feel his cock twitching, fully hard at this point. “akaza is first. move aside.”

with a whine, doma pulled away, barely able to do so as his body and his dick diligently tried to keep him right where you were.

“what am i supposed to do, lord muzan?,” the pink-haired demon questioned as politely as possible, while fighting against his twitching hands that wanted you. “i don’t… i don’t hurt women.”

the man with black, curly hair gritted his teeth as he sent akaza a glare that was quick to get him back to his senses.

you didn’t want to be here for even a second. you just wanted to pass out and wake up again when this entire ordeal was over. you felt so exposed, so bare — which you were, halfway — as the cold night air made goosebumps form on your skin.

what were they planning to do to you? if their goal was to kill and eat you, they would have done so long ago, wouldn’t they? they wouldn’t be wasting their time like this if they could have just easily finished the job in a matter of minutes.

not that you had any idea how long demons took to digest a body, but judging by the hunger in those demons’ eyes, you were sure it wouldn’t be long. come to think of it, you really didn’t want to think about getting eaten. it was even worse than thinking about death solely by itself.

the last thing you’d want is to be sitting in their stomachs.

which was why you had to go along with whatever they had in mind. it could only be terrible, given that they were demons, but you guessed that anything was better than dying.

“have a taste,” muzan told the shorter demon who gulped while approaching you with bare feet as if you were something he was terrified of. was he scared of women or something like that? it confused you. you didn’t want to grant yourself the relief of knowing that there was one among the three who didn’t want to hurt you — he was a demon for a reason, still.

akaza stared at your body like it was the first time he had seem a woman like this. with every cautious step he took toward you, you backed away further into the tree. you had no room to move away, nowhere to run.

his fingers that were painted dark blue until above his knuckles settled on your shoulder, and you jumped at how cold his touch felt. shaky digits reached the gash on your arm, and you bit your lip when they mindlessly dug into it, causing more blood to be drawn out. he retracted his fingers seconds later to raise them to his mouth, sniffling and licking them with his yellow eyes never leaving your teary ones.

you knew you were done for when even the one who was opposed to hurting you had his eyes rolling into the back of his head when he sucked his digits clean of your blood. all the control and self-restraint in him left with one single act.

the same hand shot up roughly against your neck, pinning you against the tree as you spluttered at the suddenness. insanity was mirrored in his eyes as he ripped your bra off your body, followed by your panties, all while you choked and squirmed in his death grip. you were sure he’d snap your neck in half if he applied any more pressure than he was right now.

your hands weakly pulled at his striped forearm, but he was far too gone to notice. “t-turn around,” he stuttered with a strained voice. eventually, he let go of your neck, bending his wrist backward so it forcefully snapped from your throat. his broken bones regenerated at the speed of light while you were gasping for air, knowing you’d have died if he had held that grip on you a little longer.

“you nearly killed our prey, lord akaza,” doma taunted the pink-haired demon, “take it slow. want me to—” a low growl erupting from his throat cut the higher-ranked upper moon off, and he positioned you so your chest was pressed against the cold wood, back arching uncomfortably.

you sniffled and panted when the fabric of his loose pants came in touch with your bare ass, and weak cries of objection spilled from your mouth. your throat was hurting, you couldn’t really breathe, your arm hurt, you were scared for your life.

was he really going to—

“n-no, please—” you protested weakly, hands flailing behind you to push at akaza’s body, do anything to stop him from doing any more of what he was doing. he had pulled his pulsating, needy cock out that was oozing with precum, distributing it over your exposed cunt messily as he humped you for some relief.

“such a pretty pussy,” doma snickered, “she doesn’t smell like a virgin. i wonder who’s had the honor of being inside of her. some lucky, mortal bastard...”

tears of despair dripped down your face when an image of him flashed across your head. you two had never been able to actually become anything more than two people who weren’t supposed to meet up and get intimate with each other. but, that made it more difficult to stay away from each other.

which was why you’d always ended up entangled in each other’s bare bodies, drawing out the prettiest sounds from each other. giyuu

“shut up, doma,” akaza grunted as he sloppily tried slipping his cockhead inside you, slipping up a few times, which made him feel frustrated. “i don’t want to hear your annoying voice. just— oh, fuck!”

you felt like throwing up when he slid his long cock inside of you in one go. a weak, hoarse moan was all you could let out as your wrists were grabbed carelessly by akaza to hold them behind your back.

he forced your back to arch even more, bringing your bare upper body against his scarcely clothed one, and he started fucking you against the tree. your eyes were wide and glassy, countless tears streaming down your cold cheeks as he fucked you so hard that your face got bruised by how it rubbed against the tree trunk.

akaza’s lips blindly found your bleeding upper arm to lap at it with his hot tongue, making you cry out in pain at the burn of his saliva touching your wound. it felt like alcohol was being poured all over it.

he sucked at your wound until you started feeling lightheaded, and it was just his tight grip on you that was keeping you from collapsing to the ground. akaza’s boyish moans and grunts filled your ears, and you felt ashamed when you felt yourself producing arousal.

you didn’t want this. not at all. it wasn’t your fault your body was reacting like this. you didn’t mean to betray giyuu like this—

“you’re— so… hah… tight!” with that, the upper moon three emptied himself inside of you without a warning, your own body twitching at the sudden feeling of being filled up. he pulled out almost instantly to stagger away, revealing the lower side of his face that was coated with your blood.

doma was quick to catch you, turning you back around while you coughed and tried to regain your composure, shivering from the demon seed running down your thighs.

“how cute,” he chuckled, and you felt his long, claw-like nail nearing your hole to scoop akaza’s remaining cum out, “open up, dollface.” when you didn’t and instead shook your head feebly, he shoved his long fingers inside of your mouth anyway, making you gag on them as the taste of bitterness coated your taste buds.

through half-lidded, fuzzy eyes, you saw muzan standing right where he had stood before. “let’s give lord muzan a show, shall we?” doma smiled sweetly before lifting your body with ease, bending your legs at the knees to wrap them around his clothed hips.

he was impatient, hands quickly ridding himself of his pants to impale you on his cock. this time, you were way too dazed to even be reacting to it. it didn’t hurt as much as it had hurt with akaza either, given that you were now wetter than you had been before.

doma chuckled breathlessly as he was inside of you, grinning diabolically as he supported your back against the tree. “what a pretty sight… eyes on me, little toy.”

your chest was now on full display, littered with bruises and cuts that the cult leader leapt forward to suck at, moaning at the coppery taste. his thrusts were slower and more calculated than akaza’s, but they were just as rough.

your eyes rolled back when his fangs dug into your chest, breaking the skin and suckling on your supple tit as you writhed in pain before it turned into numbness. with every thrust and every bite, you started feeling less. your vision got darker than it was, and no more quiet sounds of ‘no’ and ‘please’ would be formed in your mouth.

everything felt weird, everything was spinning, and before you knew it, you’d blacked out.

you were brought back seconds later by doma, who wouldn’t have you passing out on him. he hated fucking corpses, after all. such a shame you had no more fight left in you. well, at least you were pretty and your blood was nutritious.

the harsh smack delivered across your face had your head whipping to the side, and you were suddenly hyper-aware of your surroundings. not much had changed, doma was still jackhammering into you, and no one was there to help you.

more biting, sucking and a few more seconds of brutally pounding into you made you reach an unwanted climax as well that forced doma to cream inside your tightening walls with a low whine. he took a minute to recover before pulling out of your heavenly pussy, making his white cream dribble down your abused hole.

you should be grateful he came inside a worthless and weak human like you.

doma mindlessly let your battered body hit the ground, and you didn’t even hear or see muzan approaching until the tip of his dress shoe tilted your face up forcefully by your chin.

you had no more energy to struggle against it anymore. if you lost any more blood, you probably wouldn’t recover. what difference would it make if you did recover? you had gotten violated by demons. there was no more purpose for you.

giyuu was going to hate you.

“open your mouth.” muzan’s monotonous voice could be heard, although muffled, as your ears kept ringing, announcing that you were at your wit’s end. sitting up with the remaining power you had left, you parted your lips and squinted your eyes shut. you could tell what was coming.

“a whorish, weak slayer like you does not deserve my seed inside of you, let alone deserve to touch me.” his words were streaked with venom, like he had a personal vendetta against you, like you’d done anything to hurt him.

the sounds of slick and something slippery caught your ears, but you didn’t dare open your eyes. he was going to taint your face and mouth too, now. to make sure no spot of your being was untouched by demons.

you were surprised at how resistant your body had been throughout it all. for someone as weak as you, you didn’t snap so easily. but you weren’t going to survive this anyway, so it didn’t matter.

at least you’d tried.

when ropes of muzan’s hot cum hit your cheeks, lips and nose, you recoiled, feeling disheartened and utterly humiliated. all you could do is shake on the ground as you let the translucent liquid drip down your face and body.

you could hear retreating footsteps until only one more presence was nearby. it was doma.

“come to think of it. who even sent you here on a day like this?”

a droplet of cum landed on the back of your hand, and it felt so hot and weird, so inhumane that it burned your skin.

“today’s purge today, a day meant for demons to ravage in these woods. anyone who told you to come here wanted this to happen to you. or who knows, maybe you asked for it!”

your mind was far too woozy to be thinking about it, but… it did make sense in a way. was that why your crow hadn’t accompanied you here all the way?

“but oh well, at least you served a greater purpose! we didn’t even feel the need to devour you. such luck.”

how lucky you were. it was written that you’d be surviving. maybe this was what your parents had talked to you about?

it seemed almost too calculated when you passed out, and awoke to two familiar voices around you, bickering among each other hushedly. a pair of bulky, strong arms covered your remaining decency as fuchsia and lavender eyes exchanged glances.

tagged: @sintyu @fionawinxhester

just send me an ask if you want to be tagged in my future works :)

(TW: Blood)

Comfort - Part II

Next // Previous // Beginning

The Anniversary

Next // Previous // Beginning

Dark Content Naruto Requests are OPEN

My main account @dark-konohagakure was wrongfully terminated. I don't know if this change will be permanent, so I'll be using this blog for the foreseeable future.

DISCLAIMER: All characters depicted are 18 and above, all scenarios are fictional and should not be replicated in real life.

Other series I write for currently (subject to change): HERE!

What I will write:

Noncon

Dubcon

Yandere

Incest

Abuse

Yandere/NSFW alphabet

Dark content

Manipulation

Watersports

Light guro

Orientation play

Multiple characters

Reader of any gender

All Naruto characters

What I won't write:

Underage

Character x Character

Character x OC

Non-Dark content

Scat

Farting

Diapers

Requests are OPEN

Hey guys! I have some news!💕

I'm gonna start writing for Black Butler too! I'm gonna be sticking to primarily Naruto content, but if you have any dark content requests for Black Butler I'll be sure to look at them! Requests for Naruto/Boruto content are still open too as always!💗

AO3 ANNOUNCEMENT

A lot of you have been requesting I make an AO3 account for archival purposes, and I have!

I'll also be taking more extreme requests on my AO3, since Tumblr does not allow certain content to be published, so if you have any particularly extreme requests, please either send them here or via Tumblr asks.

If you're going to request more extreme content via Tumblr asks, please specify that it is for AO3, as that is the only platform that will allow certain content.

The main purpose of the AO3 account is archiving my work, so it will not be updated as frequently as my Tumblr.

Soooo can any of you lovely people send me some Road To Ninja!Sasuke requests?😚👉👈 he's getting me feeling all nasty like ngl🫣