#It’s one of the little things that make us human. No two voices are entirely alike - and a favorite person’s voice can be one of the most...

[flamingpudding]

Ghost Twins: Lost in Gotham

A/N: I finally got my copy of AGIT and it sparked this prompt idea, I might continue on...

"Of all the times why were we thrown into a different dimension…"

"I am not happy about this either, twerp."

Danny gave his body double a scorching glare. Dan only shrugged as he leaned back into the park bench, hiding a chuckle. Even if the situation was dire, it was kind of funny too. Good things had changed so much since he got a human body. Danny had become more of a brother to him than his nemesis or time original, especially since Danny had gotten the crown and was trying to smooth things over for ghosts and humans. Plus he finally understood why Jazz like to tease them so much as her younger siblings. He got to tease his time original / cousin / 'younger' brother now too, well he did see himself as the older one when they could technically pass as twins.

"We are stuck looking like this! Our powers don't work and I can't open a portal, Dan!"

"And what do you want me to do about it? Clockwork is not responding to either of us."

Dan studied Danny who was still pacing in knee-high snow, then looked down at his hand which was smaller than he remembered. He tried reaching out to his ghost powers but nothing responded. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed Danny stopping his pacing and looking back at Dan, his voice soft from resignation.

"What is the last thing you remember?"

"It's... nothing." I don't remember what I did last. Why do you ask?"

"It's the same for me. We are stranded for some unknown reason in an entirely different Dimension in six-year-old bodies, with no clue or solution to get home and our ghost powers being all wonky as shit! And clockwork won't react to us yelling his name into the snowstorm we are currently in! At least we are cold-resistant!"

Danny resumed pacing in the snow, kicking random little snow hills he was making with his pacing as he ranted. Dan was watching him from the park bench with a scowl of his own. Both had found themself waking up to each other in a pile of snow in a park that was located in a city they had no idea about, the only thing they had was a green sticky note with the words 'Code Bat: Different Dimension'.

That led to Danny yelling for clockwork into the starting snowstorm. They knew their powers weren't completely gone. Wherever they were they were in a place with a lot of ambient ectoplasm.

"We should look for a way out of the snow twerp. Even with cold resistance, we should stay out here." Dan huffed as he tried to make out the buildings around them outside of the park, Danny instantly stopped pacing tilting his head.

"Where should-"

Both boys yelled in absolute horror as they suddenly got picked up and were carried like a sack of potatoes under the arms of strange guys. Instincts kicked in and the two instantly fought back but the guys carrying them didn't appear to be bothered.

The wind whisked past their ears making hearing anything difficult until they finally got put down next to each other. Instantly Dan took half a step before Danny, glaring at the ones that abducted them from a park. "Who the fuck are you, guys?!"

"Language kid. And I should be asking what the fuck you little kids were doing out in the middle of the worst Snowstorm Gotham had in a long time?" The guy in a red helmet said towering over them with crossed arms. "I know you street rats are smarter than staying out in the open like this. Don't you kids have a shelter?"

Street Rats? Okay, so what if their clothes looked a little ratty? Hold a second. Danny and Dan looked at each other briefly as if for the first time noticing how worn the clothes they had looked compared to what they were used to wearing. Great so not only were they in twin six-year-old bodies but also wearing such worn-out clothes that people saw them as street rats.

"None of your fucking business." Dan retorted, the fun of the situation now gone and anger and frustration settling in as he glared at their abductors. Danny on the other hand tilted his head miming the confused child as he stared up at them.

"We got lost."

"You got lost?" The other guy in blue with a mask asked them unbelieving and Danny only nodded.

"Yup, we got lost."

Dan watched how the two adults playing dress up exchanged glances. He peaked back at Danny and then back at them. Before making a probably short-sighted decision.

"Fuck this!" He said out loud and grabbed his twin's hand. Once more he reached for his ghost core and powers, internally yelling at it to get a response. And it worked, sort of.

He felt intangibility wash over them so he attempted to escape by phasing him and Danny through the ground only… to get halfway stuck as the old on his ghostly powers got lost. Dan's eye twitched as he realized he was stuck in the ground up to his tights.

"Dan what the fuck?!" Danny who was now stuck knee-deep into the floor yelled.

"I was at least attempting to escape!"

"We are stuck now! This is even worse! You could have just let me talk our way out of this!"

"Oh hell no. I remember the others saying often enough that you should not do the talking!"

"Phasing us through the floor is not better at all! Our powers are wonky or did you forget that?!"

While the twin boy's where fighting Nightwing and Red Hood exchanged worried glances.

"Hood…"

"Yea… Probably Meta Twins on the run."

"I will contact the others."

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dan phantom #jason todd #dick grayson #dpxdc #dcxdp #prompt idea #crossover #Dan and Danny could pass as twins #de aged #de aged danny #de aged Dan #unplanned dimension travel #they don't now why #Did they really dimension travel? #I might continue on this #So who's gonna adopt the boys? #Bruce or Jason? #Maybe even Dick? #no beta wie die like danny

[shit-talker]

The only way I can rationalise people accepting literal children going out and fighting crime as Robin is if they don't think Robin is a real child.

I think it would be fun to see how Bruce would use that to his advantage in protecting his kids. Like, if people think Robin isn't human, if they instead think he's a spirit or a ghost, they are less likely to shoot at him, less likely to try and physically attack Robin because they think it would be no use.

The fun part would be deciding HOW they would do this. I like to think that Robin's domino mask doesn't have a hole for his eyes but instead is glazed over so that he can see out of it, but you can't see in. Maybe they install small lights in it so it looks like his eyes glow in the dark, because can you image how fucking scary it would be to just see these two sentient light-like eyes and just know the Batman must be lurking somewhere close by?

Maybe Bruce installs super strong magnets in their gloves because on the chance that someone does pull a gun on his kid close range, it would be a lot easier for them to grab the gun away if they had the force of magnetism on their side. Also, grabbing onto poles and other metal materials would make all the scaling on tall buildings a little safer. Obviously, they'd need a way to turn it on and off, but still. Can you imagine, you're in a warehouse and there are steel frames fucking everywhere and you look up and suddenly there's a child gripping onto one effortlessly? Horrifying.

Maybe they have a voice box. Want to scare people? Play this really ominous recording of a child's laughter that echoes just a bit too loud to be normal. Play this ominous screaming that seems too silent to be real. Play this ticking that seems to never end that induces stress and increases the chance of them messing up.

What would be even funnier is keeping this act up with the Justice League and other teams.

Batman doesn't bring Robin to these meetings at the beginning because he sees no need to involve a preteen in such matters, but at some point the subject does come up and it's sort of like; So, Bats, what exactly is the kid? Like...is he yours?

And Bruce (paranoid as fuck) doesn't want to admit to these people that yes, Robin is my son because hello? That's gotta be his biggest weakness, he would do anything to keep that kid safe and fuck them if they ever tried to hurt him to get to Bruce.

So, he tells them that he's a spirit sent to haunt him and remind the city of it'd failures and the Justice League just... believe him?? Because this is Batman, and why would Batman ever lie about something so, frankly, strange? And it's not a huge deal, like they're a team comprised of metas and aliens and literal godesses, so what if the one normal human guy has a weird little ghost child? Who cares if he cares about it like it's a real boy? Maybe the baby spirit has rights, too!! They don't know!

So, when the JLA gets more popular and becomes an actual, legal part of the American government, they're required to list all of their members. And they class Batman as a human, because that's obvious but next to Robin, they don't really know what to say or how to ask Batman about it, ao they just put "Unknown Child Spirit - TBD"

And then just... never change it?

So, they don't question why a few years later Robin seems to look entirely different, or why after that he changes again, or why Robin is suddenly a girl for a while before going back to a little boy. That's obviously just some weird spirit thing they don't understand, and it's not like Batman is going to explain it!

#batman #batman and robin #robin #justice league #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #damian wayne #the kids obviously play into this as well making themselves seem not fully human #but also?? #they arent exactly normal anyway so it really doesn't matter #dick joins a team for the 1st time as robin and everyone else is kind of like #“so...do you eat? are you...wanna play video games??” #and dick #who has been raised in a circus before joining a family comprised of batman and alfred has not really played any video games #and obviously there is no way a real human child has not played video games before so everyone never even thinks that MAYBE its not true #shit talker talks

[tetsusangel]

yayy okay so let's talk about dp with bullies satosugu but it's an au where they're both demons and reader is a pretty angel

gojo and geto like to have a little fun tormenting innocent humans, but lately their plans have been "ruined" by reader

she spoils their fun because it's her duty to protect humans but also because she's kinda hoping to get the boys' attention

they come up with a plan to surprise her and finally give her what she wants: to have her cute angel holes filled by her favorite bullies 💦🩷

a/n: omg nonny i haven’t written in ages and this is my first req after redoing my whole blog and im sososo happy you shared this thot with me im literally creaming

cw: dom!satosugu, sub!reader, multiple orgasms (reader), overstim, pet names (princess, baby, sweet/pretty/good girl), slight degradation, sprinkle of praise, double penetration (1 hole), cunnilingus, 'toru slaps your cunt twice, he also "slaps" your face once, oral (m! and f! receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, dumbification (sorry i couldn't help myself), MDNI, lmk if i missed anything!!

w/c: 1.4k

Devil!Satoru and Devil!Suguru are the WORST! They make your life as the resident caring angel so hard :( They’re always prancing around toying with oblivious humans.

Before they met you, their antics were occasional and spontaneous. But when they first saw you swoop down and save the poor innocent soul they had been messing with, they knew they had to see you again. Even if that meant going out of their way to torment more humans than they were interested in doing.

And they knew you were enjoying it. Not enjoying saving the humans, but enjoying seeing Satoru and Suguru. The two men were constantly bored and aching for a new plaything, those plain humans just weren’t cutting it anymore. They needed to get their hands on you and that sweet cunt you’d been hiding from them.

They also knew you were too shy to say anything. You were just a pretty little angel trying to stop two big, mean devils from harming the one thing you had sworn to protect. So of course, they kept on with their torments towards those inferior humans. And you, of course, kept coming in to save the day.

“That’s enough! Don’t you guys think it’s time you give those poor humans a break. They haven’t done anything to you” You scolded, putting up a horrible act of pretending you weren’t enjoying their company.

Deep down all three of you knew that something was bound to happen soon. You were all reaching your breaking point. Soon enough they’d give you exactly what you want from them, and they would take exactly what they want from you.

Devil!Satoru and Devil!Suguru wouldn’t be able to hold the title of devils if they weren’t as good as they were in teasing you and slowly breaking you down into the perfect pet for them. But to do that, they’d need you to open up first. What better way to coax a kind hearted angel out of her shell than to surprise her?

As you laid down on your back against the plush expanse of your bed, you wondered why you hadn’t seen or heard anything from Satoru and Suguru. It had been an entire week of peace and quiet; something you weren’t used to and something you didn’t miss.

You didn’t enjoy seeing pure-hearted humans get hurt by them, but you did enjoy the way Satoru and Suguru looked at you when you scolded them. Like they were going to eat you up and, God, you wished they would.

Pulling a pillow over your head you groaned. “Aww poor baby, somethin’ wrong?” A muffled voice called out from your right. A voice that sounded a lot like….Satoru? “She must’ve missed us. I think she likes us more than she’d like to admit” Another voice calls out, this time from your left and the sound is similar to the honeyed voice of Suguru.

Amidst your confusion, the pillow you had used to cover your face was ripped from your hands and lo and behold were the two missing men. Before you can stop yourself, you whined out a quiet “I missed you”. By the looks on their faces, you could tell they had missed you too. And that they definitely had something planned for you.

“Yeah, baby? You missed us? Fuck, we missed you too. Our sweet, little angel. Always pretending she’s coming down to save those worthless humans when she really just wants to be near us.” Satoru starts.

“No- No I” This time, you’re cut off by Suguru. “Don’t be like that pretty girl. We missed you too. In fact, Satoru and I wanna show you how much we missed you”.

You couldn’t believe it. You’ve waited for so long for them to finally give you what you’d been craving since the day you saved the first human they tormented. Were you dreaming? Were you in heaven? No, of course not. Devils aren’t allowed in heaven. This was hell.

Everything happens so suddenly. You're flipped on your hands and knees, Satoru behind you and the tent in Suguru’s pants is right in front of your face just begging to be touched. Before you can even pick a hand up to unzip Suguru, you feel a large hand flip your skirt up followed by two long digits rubbing against your clothed pussy.

Another whine escapes your lips as Satoru’s ring and middle finger draw tight circles around your clit from above your panties. When Satoru finally drags your panties down and off your ankles is when Suguru speaks up again. “C’mon princess, don’t keep me waiting. We’ve been so patient with you. Don’t make us be mean to you on our first day. Or would you like that?”

The whimper that escapes your lips doesn’t go unnoticed by the two. Suguru drops his boxers and jeans, kicking them off as fast as he can. “Kiss the tip baby- Fuck, that’s it. Good girl” The praise is sent straight between your legs and a chuckle from Satoru lets you know he felt your needy cunt clench around his fingers. 

“You like that, baby? You wanna be praised? But you’re acting like such a slut. What kind of angel lets two devils use her like this? Oh sweet girl, you’re so wet. You like when I’m mean to you?” You want to say no, you want to tell him it isn’t true (it is true), but Suguru shoves himself farther down your throat, a guttural groan sending vibrations all over your body. 

You’re so focused on trying to take Suguru down your throat that you don’t realize Satoru getting impatient. A sharp slap on your clit brings your attention back to Satoru. You barely get out a “S’toruuuu” before he does it again. Another cross between a moan and a whine leaves your mouth causing Suguru to buck his hips into your face. 

Satoru can tell you’re getting distracted again, but this time he opts to wrap his soft tongue around your clit while his ring and middle finger slip inside your wet folds, scissoring you open. They’re both so overwhelming, Satoru behind you slurping away at your sweet pussy and Suguru wrapping a hand around your head and pulling it back and forth on his dick. 

And then as if they were connected telepathically, they both pull away at the same time. Your head is spinning, the only thing on your mind is making sure you end the night with them stuffing you full of their cum. 

Satoru leans back against the headboard and pulls you into his lap, your back facing Suguru. And finally, finally, he slowly sinks you down on his fat length. It’s already too much for you but Suguru is right behind him, they’ve waited long enough. You can take them both. As soon as you’ve settled down on Satoru, Suguru is pushing into you. 

“W-Wait, fuucckkk, ‘s too much! Too big!” You cry out, but the two devils don’t seem to care. They buck their hips into yours, the room filled with echoes of your whines and moans of “C-Can’t”, “Wan’ more” and “Please d-don’t stop”. Soon enough you’re not talking at all. You’ve cum more times than you can count. The overstimulation was too much for you to handle. 

Your eyes have rolled into your head and the only thing you can think of is Satoru and Suguru and Suguru and Satoru. A light slap on the right side of your face gets you to look at Satoru but he can tell from that far-away look in your eyes that you aren’t completely here anymore. That’s okay though. He knows he wanted this, he knows Suguru wanted this, and he for sure knows that you needed this.

“Suguru, shit, I think our sweet, little angel has gone dumb” A groan is heard from the other man. “Fuck, what slut. She takes us so well.” G-Gonna cum soon” A response is heard almost immediately “M-Me too. You gonna cum for us one more time, pretty girl?” Suguru’s hand snakes around your waist to use a finger of his to rub fast and messy circles around your puffy clit. 

No longer able to respond, you arch your back further into Satoru causing your head to lean back on Sugurus shoulder as you whine out in overstimulation. Their thrusts become erratic and you know they’re getting closer and closer and finally they fill you up as you cum. The sticky, sweaty smell of sex overwhelms your senses. Another tap is felt on your shoulder, “Hey pretty, let’s get you cleaned up”

#gojo smut #geto smut #gojo x reader x geto #stsg x reader #satosugu smut #satosugu x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #satosugu o(>ω<)o #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen #bia.nsfw #gojo satoru smut #geto suguru smut

[dotster001]

When You Escape Him; Scarabia

Summary: Yandere Scarabia boys x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you.

CW: Yandere, dark themes, betrayal, somehow Jamil is a shit in both parts, reader gets slapped in Kalim's part, implied hypnosis

Heartslaybul Savannaclaw Octavinelle Pomefiore Ignihyde Diasomnia Non NRC Staff

Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.

"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."

You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.

Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own.

And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.

In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.

You’d always known this was a possibility. But when so much time had passed,  you had hoped for the best.

“Y/N!” You heard him before you saw him. His voice was excited as you heard shouts and running feet come your way. You looked down at your five year old, who seemed to have no idea what was wrong, smiling happily as he chewed on the donut you'd given him for being such a good boy at the doctor.

You could run.

But you wouldn't make it far.

And in the split second you took to think about it, a familiar set of bejeweled arms was wrapped around you.

“Y/N! I've been so worried!” He sobbed against your shoulder. Before you could respond, he had stepped away and begun jumping up and down excitedly.

“My baby!” He cried, smiling widely as he scooped up your son, spinning him around and making the boy giggle happily. “You're both safe! I'm so happy!”

Your son was squished between the two of you as Kalim initiated a group hug. Kalim was sobbing, but smiling and giggling. Your son was giggling. The only one miserable was you.

Well, that wasn't entirely accurate. You made eye contact with a very irritated pair of grey eyes. Jamil's face said it all. Even if Kalim was happy, you were absolutely fucked.

Jamil loudly cleared his throat, and Kalim took a step back, gently taking your hands in his own.

“Jamil told me everything. He said that after my father was killed, you were scared that they would hurt our baby. But it's okay! We've fixed all the security problems! He'll be safe now!”

The only thing stronger than Kalim's delusions, were Jamil's deceptions.

Kalim pressed a kiss to the back of each of your hands, before pressing a quick chaste kiss to your lips, one you were too petrified to even pretend to reciprocate.

“I need to do some fatherly bonding with my son, and tell him all about being the Asim heir. But you're going to go home with Jamil. He's going to fill you in on all the safety upgrades we made.”

He stared at you, his eyes full of adoration, before he giggled again, and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“I'll see you when you get home. I love you!” 

He once again scooped up your son, exiting the crowded area to a private limo. You slowly turned to Jamil, who was still glaring.

“I hate you,” you said.

“And I despise you. Let's go,” he said dryly, grabbing your arm and dragging you to the limo he and his men came in.

The first few minutes of the ride were silent. He eventually broke the silence.

“You disgust me.”

“I'm not the one who kidnapped another human being.”

“You were barely kidnapped,” he snapped. “You have the world in the palm of your hand. All you have to do is be an obedient little toy, and he'd give you the stars in the sky, if you asked for it.”

“What good is having the stars if I don't have the freedom to enjoy them?”

He slapped you across the face. “I never want to hear you tell me what freedom is.”

“I hate you.”

“It's mutual. But I don't have to worry about it for much longer,” he sighed. “I've been told to make you “feel safe” by whatever means necessary.”

The full meaning hit you a second too late, as he snatched your chin, and looked deeply into your eyes, his smile smug.

“The one you see before you-”

In your time of need, you'd made a deal. You knew a viper from the desert would drown in the vast ocean. So you gave up your old life in exchange for waiting tables in the undersea Monstro Lounge for the rest of your life. It wasn't anything glamorous, but Azul had promised, in exchange for your free labor, you'd have a nice home, your meals would be taken care of, and he'd get your son into school. Over the last ten years, you'd become so well liked, and well versed with Monstro Lounge policy, that you and Azul had been discussing bumping you up to management. You'd even begun getting closer to Jade. 

Life was good. Except for the stray nightmare, which Jade was now there to help save you from, you could almost forget your past. You could forget him.

Jade was usually the one in charge of stock, and the lounge always picked the best of the best. So Jade would take trips to the surface for ingredients. He always invited you to come with him, but understood whenever you told him you weren't ready yet. He fully believed one day you'd be ready, and that you, him, and your son would have a picnic in a forest. It sounded nice.

After school, your son would come to the lounge, and do homework at the bar, where you, Azul, or the twins, would help. Since Jade was on the surface today, Floyd was the current helper. Though you definitely heard some scheming between the two of them; something about becoming Uncle Floyd. 

Life was so good right now.

“Y/N, can you please see me in the VIP room when you get a moment?” Azul asked. You nodded, finishing off the order you were taking, then dropping it at the bar for Floyd to pass to the kitchen. 

“How's homework going?” You asked, pressing a kiss to your boy’s cheek.

“Good. Uncle Floyd- oops,” your son looked at Floyd in regret, but Floyd was just smiling widely.

“Baby shrimpy and I are doing just fine. Homework will be done by the end of the shift.”

“Floyd, I accidentally-”

“Don't worry baby shrimp. They're gonna make me your uncle. You don't have to pretend,” Floyd said with a happy giggle, mussing your son's hair happily.

“Don't keep Azul waiting too long, Shrimpy. I think it's gonna be good news! I got little shrimp. Everything's good out here!”

You smiled gratefully at Floyd, then made your way to the VIP room.

What you found there froze you to your core. There was Azul sitting in his normal chair, his face set in a grim line. The problem lay with Jamil standing right next to him.

“Where's the kid, Ashengrotto?” He asked dryly.

“I only asked for Y/N.”

“Well, the deal was for both. Get the kid in here.”

“Deal with this first. You don't want him to hate you more than he's going to already,” Azul snapped.

You finally returned to yourself enough to ask in a broken voice, “Azul, why? We have a contract!”

He looked down at his desk, despair filling his features. 

“He offered a deal I can't refuse,” he pressed the button on the desk that summoned the twins. “As of this moment, your contract is void.”

You turned to rush out of the room, hearing Jamil a half second behind you, only to bump into Floyd and your son.

“Shrimpy, what-” he began, before seeing Jamil over your shoulder. “What's sea snake doing here?” His voice held barely concealed rage.

“I'm here for my family,” Jamil said, snatching your wrist, and then your son's. Floyd held tightly onto your son.

“Nah, Y/N’s protected here-”

“Floyd,” Azul said. “Let go.”

Floyd's face went dark. “Huh. Funny how this happens when Jade’s on the surface.”

“What does Jade have to do with anything?” Jamil spat, demanding an answer from you with his eyes alone.

Floyd stared for a moment, before coldly saying, “Don't worry about it.” He leaned in to your son, whispering something into his ear, before leaving the room with a slam of the door.

Azul sighed, and moved from his desk. “I expect you to be gone by the time I get back,” he said tiredly, leaving the room with another slam of the door.

The moment you were alone with Jamil and your son, you broke down.

“Please don't use snake whisper on me again.”

“What's going on! Why does he look like me-”

“Cause I'm your dad, and we're going home. Y/N’s just bitter because they lost,” Jamil said coldly.

“Close your eyes,” you commanded your son, who quickly obeyed, even though he was confused.

“Y/N,” Jamil ran his hands through his hair, as though this was just some minor irritation, not the end of life as you knew it. “I can't just not discipline you for this.”

“Don't snake whisper him.”

“If he behaves, I won't have to. You on the other hand-”

“I'll do anything. That's the reason I ran.”

He paused, and you opened your eyes, hopefully. He seemed to be thinking it over.

“You need to prove you can be obedient.”

“I can.”

“One slip up, and you're going back under.”

“I understand.”

“In the meantime, you have to stay chained up in my room.”

“Okay.”

“And one more thing,” he smiled wickedly. “Kneel.”

“Huh?”

“Beg me for forgiveness. Beg me to not charm you or my son. Prove that you can follow instructions without my help.”

“You disgust me,” you whisper.

“That sounds a lot like defiance,” he sneered.

You took a shuddering breath, and knelt, bowing your head reverently.

“Please, Jamil.”

He slowly made his way to you, stroking your head.

“Good pet.”

You saw a flash of gold, and, suddenly, a portal stood before the three of you.

“Let's go home,” he said with a triumphant smile.

#yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #yandere kalim al asim #yandere kalim x reader #kalim al asim #kalim x reader #yandere jamil viper #yandere jamil x reader #jamil x reader #jamil viper

[demonvibez]

Showering with Mammon

·Characters: Mammon x GN! Reader

·Word Count: 1800+

·Rating: Mature/Explicit ; Minors DNI

·Genre: Fluff, Smut

·Tags: fluff, mammon accidently walks in on reader, light punishment, smut, gender neutral sex, reader has GN body parts, mentions of fangs and marking, hand stuff, penetration

·A/N: this one was really cute fun to write! y'all know as our first, he would definitely be jumping at the chance to get into mc's shower! anyways, likes/comments/rb's are appreciated! lemme know which brother you'd wanna shower with next. ♡

You and the Avatar of Greed had been thick as thieves practically since the day you had dropped down into the Devildom and under his protection.

So it didn’t come to surprise anyone that Mammon had practically moved into your room after the two of you had forged a pact together.

He was so used to sharing the upstairs bathroom with five of his brothers, despite it always being crowded and disheveled after each of their uses.

He often kept a shower caddy full of various bath products given to him at the many modeling gigs he has worked - Shower Gels from Wersace, a custom hair care set from Goetia, and a plethora of skin care products from Majolish line the bottom of his tote.

Most days his routine is rather quick - wash hair, wash body, done. Some days, he likes to barricade the door and take his time to pamper himself.

So when Mammon starts spending more of his nights and days in your room, it is only natural that he also moves into your bathroom as well.

He ends up ditching the shower caddy, his bath products now lining the walls of your shower and the counter of your sink.

You have to scold him at first for always leaving wet towels and dirty clothes everywhere, but eventually the two of you fall into a routine.

You typically take your shower first, seeing as it is your bathroom after all, with Mammon taking his second to ensure you won't be late in the mornings.

Your system starts working perfectly, until one day a simple mishap changes everything between the two of you.

You were used to getting changed in the bathroom after you finished up your showers.

You were just stepping out of the shower, pulling a towel around your body when you suddenly hear Mammon shout out to you that he is going to grab something from his room real quick.

You don't reply to him, thinking he has left already. You don't hear any noise coming from your room, so you assume that you are all alone.

You drop your towel to the floor before walking towards the mirror by the sink, when all of the sudden, the door flies open and Mammon makes his way in without thinking.

"Hey, human! Did ya hear me or no- AHHHHHHHH!"

His eyes widen and his jaw drops to the floor as a deep rose blush creeps across his face.

The image of your naked form seers itself into his memory as his brain short circuits between lust and denial.

He moves his head to look away, a hand flying up to shield his blush from your eyes, but his own eyes keep darting back to you as his heart pounds in his chest.

You expect him to say or do something, but he's frozen there.

Your voice calling out his name breaks the silence, his brain kicking back into gear before he starts blabbering.

"W-w-what are ya doin?! I didn't see nothin'! I'm goin' out! I'll be back later!" he said as he made his way out of your bathroom, not allowing you to get a single word in.

You could have sworn you saw him steal one last little sneak peek at you before slamming the door closed on his way out.

You should probably be mad about the sudden invasion of privacy, but you always thought Mammon was adorable, and the entire situation was beyond hilarious.

At first this encounter made things a bit awkward for the two of you - or more accurately, it made Mammon act a bit awkward around you - but it ultimately brought the two of you closer together.

One morning, when the two of you are pressed for time, Mammon comes up with a brilliant idea - the two of you should just shower together!

You were a bit hesitant at first, as sharing a shower together would be quite intimate - especially at such an early time in the morning.

"I mean, we share a bed anyway! Why wouldn't ya wanna shower with The Great Mammon!?! Come on an’ hurry up, we're gonna be late for breakfast!"

Your first shower together was, yet again, a bit awkward, both unsure of what to do with each other.

Cheeks painted crimson and eyes darting rapidly, Mammon was a nervous mess, which you can't help but to find adorable - you let out a giggle.

"H-hey! What're ya laughin' at?! I ain’t lookin’ at nothin’! You’re just a human, what even is there ta see,” he stammered as he tried to hide his face behind one of his trembling hands.

You shook your head as you picked up the bottle of shampoo, squeezing a dollop into your hand with a grin across your face.

"Oh, nothing," you say as you reach up and begin to work his hair into a lather, "this was all your idea, you know."

His blush deepens at the feeling of your fingertips massaging his scalp, his eyes fluttering closed at the gentleness of your touch.

After scrubbing his hair for a little while, Mammon finally began to relax, and the two of you washed each other under the shower’s cascade, with tender touches and loving smiles.

You both took so long in the shower together that Lucifer let himself into your room and was waiting as the two of you walked in wrapped in towels, hair damp.

You both ended up receiving an hour and a half long lecture from the Avatar of Pride himself while tied down to your chairs in the middle of his private study.

Despite Lucifer's objections, the two of you continued to grow closer, and your bath times with Mammon grew more and more intimate.

One evening, after a particularly long week at RAD, Mammon decides it is time for the two of you to unwind together with a nice bubble bath.

He brings some of the LED lights from his room, setting them up around the outer edge of the bathtub, along with a nice bottle of champagne from the human realm and a bath bomb he stole from Asmodeus.

With the soothing atmosphere surrounding you both, the sound of the gentle fizz of the bath bomb in the air, you couldn't help but to sink into the warm water, relaxing into Mammon's arms as you leaned against him, your back pressed against his beautifully tan chest.

The moment Mammon has his arms around you, his resolve shatters and he can't help the sudden wave of greed that is washing over him, his arms tightening around you and his lips instantly finding your neck.

He whispers your name as his hands roam your body, his fangs lightly nipping at your neck as he feels your chest.

"Mine…mine…all mine," you hear him chanting in hushed tones against your skin as he gently marks you, one of his hands starting to travel down past your waist.

He starts teasing your sex as he starts kissing his way up to your ear, sending electricity through your body and making you crave him more.

Your sudden greed for him only turns him on even more, his pace getting faster as he sucks on your neck, his cock growing increasingly hard as you grind against his lap.

As he continues to toy with your most sensitive spots, he can’t hold himself back any longer, slipping himself inside of you in one slow, smooth motion.

The tight, snug feeling of you around him as he sinks into you makes him feel indescribably amazing, his demon form popping out instantly.

Mammon starts the pace out nice and slow, his hips moving his impossibly hard cock in and out of you as you grind against him just as slowly, one of his hands still stimulating you as the other grips your hip, his rings lightly digging into your soft flesh.

He starts to massage you faster, his own thrusting getting quicker as both of your moans grow louder, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sheer pleasure you’re feeling.

“S’right…cum for me, my human…wanna make ya feel good,” he moans into your ear as he continues through your orgasm, holding you down on his cock as he strokes you through your bliss.

He kisses your neck softly for a few moments as you catch your breath, before he picks you up and turns you around in his lap, sliding himself back into you once more with a moan.

His lips crash onto yours immediately as he wraps his arms around you, pouring passion into the kiss as he begins to bounce you on his cock.

Grabbing onto your ass, the pace continues to build again as the two of you exchange sloppy, greedy kisses, his wings wrapping around you to pull your bodies closer as the two of you lose yourselves in the moment - both of your hands grip at his scalp, one hand grabbing at his hair while the other grips one of his horns as the pleasure continues to build up inside of you.

Soon enough, the two of you are hitting your climax together, Mammon whisper-chanting sweetly against your lips as euphoria washes over you both.

“I love ya…I love ya…I love ya so damn much…”

You stayed there, cuddling in his arms and in his lap for a few minutes longer, until he noticed you shivering slightly as the water had gone cold.

He helped you to finish rinsing off before picking you up out of the bathtub and carrying you over to the sink counter, setting you down to go grab a towel to wrap you in.

After getting you dried off and dressing you in one of his black v-neck tees, he carries you over to your bed and sets you down before crawling under the covers with you, pulling you into a close snuggle.

His arms find their way around you as you rest your head against his chest, he tilts his head downward to press a kiss into the top of your head.

You let out a tired giggle, tilting your head up to steal a kiss from his lips, a huge smile on your face as you settle your cheek against his chest once again.

“I love you so much, my greedy demon. Sweet dreams,” you said with one last yawn as you drift off to sleep.

“I love ya too, treasure. I’ll always be here when ya wake up…” he whispered back to you, his own eyes growing heavy.

With his last final moments of wakefulness, Mammon couldn’t help but to think about how he was so damn lucky to find a treasure like you. You are worth more than all the Grimm in the Devildom - and he is determined to never lose you.

- demonvibez ♡ - likes/reblogs appreciated - do not copy/repost! -

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[haechansdoll]

my little doll - ml x reader

Pairing : Boxer!Lee Mark x f!Reader

Description : Humans have hormones, you understand that much. But does that explain why you can't stop the filthy daydreams that fill your head whenever you see a specific redhead? Does it excuse you for getting turned on by him simply breathing in your direction? And to make matters worse, he is off-limits, if your father found out you were messing with his prized boxer? You would be chained to a tower and your red-haired crush would be used as mincemeat.

Warnings : Bloody Nose, Perversion, Dom/Sub, Power Play, Panties, Caught Having Sex, Overstimulation

Wordcount : 20k

Hormones.

You dearly hate them, you hate how your chest does somersaults at the mere sight of him, or the fact you have to cross your legs when his voice tickles your ear, let alone the mocking sensation of arousal that forever plagues your core at the sweet little pet names he sure loves giving you. From the crimson red hair that falls over his shoulders, typically pulled back with a loose-fitting clip, a matching pair of eyes that have this undeniable sultry and charming glint to them, or the scars from broken bones or other mishaps he has yet to give you a story about that stick to his powerful arms and mesmerizing torso.

If anyone were to find out about the things that run through your head, the lewd imagery, the erotic scenarios... you would never be able to show your face again. It's normal to have less-than-pure thoughts, right? You're no less human than the next person, everyone has desires and fantasies!

But does that excuse the fact you've desperately been waiting for any chance you can get to go and relieve yourself? That the more you stare at him, the more you think about how good he may be in bed? His muscles flexing with each thrust, imagining the length and girth of his cock, would his voice be gruff or husky?

The recollection of your inner desires has you aching, it is humiliating, to say the least. Especially when the man who is the center of these very thoughts just so happens to be standing behind you, one hand on your shoulder, the other guiding your wrist. The close proximity has you feeling sick, between his voice right beside your ear and his hands on your arm.

To be honest, aren't you sick? Pretty sick in the head to be lewding Mark without his knowledge, what would he think of you if he were to learn of these sinful scenarios you let consume you? You simply cannot help it, any woman in your position would probably be the same, right? Thinking of all the things those hands can do, how his rough fingertips would feel between your legs, his tongue against your...

It isn't like anyone knows either, after all, it would spread like a wildfire if anyone were to find out about your less than an innocent crush. In your opinion, you do quite a good job at masking it, not too clingy to him but also not completely avoiding him. After all, he is your father's "student" if you could say that, often training under the watchful gaze of your dad.

Sometimes it still feels like just the other day when you two first interacted, him introducing himself, saying how he works under your dad. You heard of him from your father often boasting about this guy he is training. You figure it would be another older guy, rough around the edges, not good enough to be eye candy. You couldn't have been any more wrong, completely in shock to learn that this "guy" was not only a lot younger than you expected but looked like those Greek statues.

You can never quite focus when he speaks to you, eyes wandering ever so discreetly, ears deafening when you catch sight of a bead of sweat dripping down his neck, how the lump in his throat bobs while he talks or drinks water. 

Even now, as you throw another punch per his instruction, your focus is entirely elsewhere. Not on the way he tells you to twist your wrist when launching your fist from your body, but rather how good it feels when he speaks right next to your shoulder, each word making your eardrums vibrate. If only he knew that you weren't very focused on his self-defense lesson, but rather how good it would feel to have those big hands wrapped around your neck or your thigh... anywhere is fine by you.

Most nights you find yourself fantasizing about Mark…Mark, all the filthy scenarios possible flooding your already corrupted mind the whole time you feel yourself up. Gripping your sheets and pretending it's his hair, breathing into your pillow to try and mask the sounds of pleasure you just can't keep in. You feel awful every time you finish, though. Hastily fixing yourself and going to shower, hoping the water will wash away sin.

Alas, you know that any level you go to repent would never erase the tainted marks of lust from your body. You're trapped in this, like a stalkerish fan swooning over her celebrity crush. Again, thanking whomever it concerns that mind-reading is not a thing.

A hand comes down onto the top of your head, drawing you from your deeper workings, "That time was really good," Mark praised with a grin, fingers dripping from your skin, much to your dismay, "Try it again without me guiding you, put your all into it!" If you had any less self-control, a moan would have passed your lips from his perfect voice, each word rolling off his tongue like honey from a spoon. 

Times like now you wish you had a deeper relationship than what is now accessed, that way you could just grab at his arms and give him the prettiest bats of your lashes all for the sake of begging him to take you somewhere private. That's all you want right now, to feel his soft lips on yours, to taste his tongue that probably will feel minty from the gum he is currently chewing. The simple privilege of being able to kiss him would surely kill you.

You throw another punch and really start to feel that ache in your shoulder, but Mark calls it a "good burn", something you remember even your father saying back when you were little. Your eyes glance to the clock hung on the wall, usually, you are hoping time will fly by, but right now? You hope it goes painfully slow, who knows when the next time will be when you have him so close with his hands all over you.

"I think you've mastered how to punch someone, I'm a little scared by how quick you are..." The playfulness in his voice does more than make you smile, it also contributes to the arousal that continues to soak into your panties, which you can probably assume are ruined at this point, "Let's practice a kick for if you're being restrained by two people." 

The last thing you expect is to feel him come up from behind and wrap his arms around your torso, restraining your arms and keeping you firmly pressed to his solid front. You would have cum right there if it wasn't for how focused you were on the veins in his arms or his flushed knuckles, "So if someone comes from behind, they'll most likely grab you in a way to trap your arms." His voice vibrates in his chest, which in turn vibrates against your back. 

Mark gives you a bit of a squeeze, a soft gasp fluttering from your lips not because of the restriction on your lungs but rather how if you arch your back just enough... you would probably feel the one thing you daydream about. The one thing you imagine fucking you every night when you touched yourself. 

"It'll be hard to elbow them, and depending on how tall they are you may not be able to head-butt them... so you can take one of your legs and then jab your heel into the arch of their foot, the point is to fracture or break those bones because then it'll either make them immobile or they won't be able to run after you when you get away." You nod your head along to his words, "Or, some people say to put as much as you can to lean forward because attackers expect you to thrash in their arms or try to hit them."

Mark lightly nudges you as a means to lean forward, you almost think not to, afraid of the hormones that are already driving you up the wall. But you do it anyway, leaning forward, despite the fact he is pressed into every inch of your backside, "Take both of your hands and grab at one of my legs, whichever you think is easier, and then you're gonna pull as hard as you can to try and knock me off."

You almost feel bad, but you assume that since he is giving you this lesson, he expects to get roughed up a little. So despite your inner conflict not to, you lean forward as much as it takes to grab the leg closest to you, that being his right leg, and firmly gripping his calf and pulling his leg towards you. You're almost surprised by how easy it was, one second he is holding onto you, his breath wafting against the back of your neck, and now he is flat on his back.

"That caught me off guard," He says in disbelief, without your knowledge his crimson eyes watch how you slowly stand up straight after successfully breaking free of his grasp, "I shouldn't underestimate you considering how intense your father is with training." He notices your panties peeking through the fabric of your yoga leggings, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lip, and staring until the red fabric is no longer peaking through.

"When I was little he taught me some basic things," You turn around to offer him a hand, which he gratefully takes, "But I don't think the moves I learned when I was little will be much assistance now." You help him up with a smile, for a moment you forget the tension that had previously been eating you, "Thank you for helping me, you make it more fun than it should be."

The crimson-haired boxer offers you one of his signature smiles, flashing those pearly white teeth you always think of dragging your tongue over, "You're adorable," His fingers playfully give your cheeks a pinch just to see you pout, "Let's do one more move before you gotta close up, I think you have it in you to give it a try." Who are you to argue? After all, it means more time to ogle over him, to feel his hands, to dream up filthy scenarios that have your pussy throbbing.

What you don't expect is to feel one of his hands fall on the dip of your waist to stabilize you, the other coming down to hook under your knee and slowly lift your leg, "You're pretty flexible, I expected that... naturally everyone's legs are stronger than their arms. So sometimes if you see an opening, go for a nice high kick right into either their chin or nose." So that's why he is holding you like this.

His words, just for a moment, blur as you look at his hands on your body. The position is oddly provocative, it is easy to just picture you both nude, his cock driving in and out of you just like this. His hands holding your soft thighs wide open for him, one leg hooked over his arm as those very fingers tease your clit, his other hand snaking up your front to tweak your nipples and torturously squeeze your tits.

It's disgusting, filthy that all he is doing is holding you like this to guide you and you're imagining him fucking you just like this. It's horribly wrong, sickening - but oh, it would probably feel so good like this. His tip would rub against that sweet stop your fingers can barely reach, his breath against the very shoulder he would mark with hickeys...

"There we go," His voice sounds so close it nearly makes you flinch, "Okay, you want to aim with your heel and not the tip of your shoe because it can strain your ankle or even hurt the arch of your foot. So lock your leg as you swing it up and pretend like you're jabbing someone with your heel." You wish his cock was jabbing your insides, but nonetheless, you strike your heel into the air effortlessly.

Mark whistles at the power in your leg, what he would give to see you beat the shit out of someone. He is sure you could probably even take him out if you tried, which is another reason he hopes he never gets on your bad side. The first reason being that your dad would kill him.

"Maybe I should start practicing with you," He muses when you smoothly bring your leg back down, "I bet you'd be able to break me down, especially with a kick like that." What you would give to simply watch him train with your father, you've seen it a handful of times. How he drives his fists into the punching bag, or the muscles in his thighs stiffening when he tries to knock his sparring partner down. He always leaves you drooling, hoping to feel those very hands wrapped around your throat or to ride his thighs while he teases you for being such a slut. 

As much as you would love to spend the time with him, you know you wouldn't be able to handle all the touching, to see him sweating and his muscles showing through his less-than-covering tank top. Sometimes he even goes shirtless, which is ten times worse and even more hormone-inducing. If only there was a way to confidently tell him, "I've wanted to have sex with you since I first saw you, so please do whatever you want with me."

"I think you'd probably break me..." The words weren't meant to come out sounding so sexual, leaving a pinkish blush on his cheeks and at the tip of his ears, "But we can always practice like this whenever you want." You miss how he shuffles in place, trying to knock your first sentence from his head. Break you? He knows what you meant... but even he has some not-so-innocent thoughts.

With it being time to close, regulars gradually leave the gym, bidding you a farewell per usual, the machines slowly becoming empty. Though the only person who patiently remains, discreetly watching passing figures as they leave the building, is the redhead you have been eyeing all day. It is rather exciting, watching the final person pack up their things and leave, finally granting you the privacy you've desired all day.

You begin the process of locking up the gym, working the locks on the alternate entrance, as well as pulling the drop-down fence that cages the windows. You two often leave through the back door, so you always lock up the front earlier than you both intend to depart. Whenever he stays a little later than usual, he often waits for you to close and you will leave together. 

Being so focused on closing the main entrances and front of the gym, you don't notice the figure approaching you from behind, not until a shadow casts over you and you notice the lighting change. Not until a hand falls onto your shoulder, to which you peer behind you to see Markall packed up, "Did you bring a sweater? It's supposed to be cold out."

"I didn't, but it's fine because my car is right there." He knows it is, but he also knows that you tend to park quite a bit away from the apartment you share with your father because it didn't have a parking garage, "I'll be fine! Worst case scenario I catch a cold and can't come to work tomorrow." That's when you remember an important detail about tomorrow, one that you've been looking forward to all week.

"You have a match tomorrow, right?" Comes your voice amid his needless thinking, "Dad is making the plans, he's been running around all day... I think he may be more excited than you." You try to change the subject, knowing he will be persistent regarding you taking his sweater.

"Yeah, and that's another reason you should take my hoodie... that way you don't get sick and you can be there to cheer me on." His words make you feel so warm and fuzzy inside, is he really that worried? Does he really want you there to see him? It's too much, you may just pass out knowing he wants you to cheer for him in the crowd!

You heard rumors of professionals possibly attending, managers of some sort. It all sounds a little too good to be true, but knowing your father he is always pulling strings. To locals, it's considered a big deal because of the chance to gamble bets, entertainment... The matches are memorable. Mark likes the attention, to hear people chant his name and praise him, that adrenaline he gets when he is so close to winning. It is a drug, an addiction he just cannot shake. He needs support.

Finally, you take the hoodie from his hand, pulling the thick fabric over your head and covering yourself, "Thank you, Mark." He is so sweet, it makes you feel guilty for letting these thoughts ravage your brain. For allowing yourself to lewd him constantly, he has been nothing but respectful with you and all you can think about is how fucking good it would feel to sit on his face right now.

"Are you gonna be there to give me some good luck?" His words catch you off guard, give him some good luck? you never really see him before his matches, usually, only after will you congratulate him and offer to take him out for something to eat, per request from your father. It is a tradition to celebrate after a successful fight. Most of the night you will ogle over him, how good he looks with a slightly swollen lip, or how you would kill to lick the little bit of blood sticking to the fresh wound on his brow.

What could you possibly do to give him good luck? You will have to think of something, you can't disappoint him, "Since tomorrow is a big deal, I guess I have to make sure you have as much luck as possible, right?" Your words bring a grin to his face, you've always been so kind yet carefree. He likes that a lot about you, how you don't take everything so seriously, and never feels like he has to walk on eggshells around you. 

Whatever it may be, he likes getting some sort of recognition from you before he fights, you leave this positive and sweet taste in his chest. He finds that he tries harder with you around, whether it be to impress you or earn plenty of praises and compliments when the match is over. He doesn't care what you come up with, so long as it's from you.

Mark Remembers that you're off the clock and should get home before it's too dark, "A-Anway," He clears his throat and adjusts his gym bag over his shoulder, "Let's get out of here, I think we both could use a shower..." Despite his words, he is eyeing how exhausted you look, sweaty and your eyes a little swollen from overworking yourself. It reminds him of the time you went on a run with him, an innocent invitation he gave you since he never really sees you outside of the gym.

To his surprise, you weren't at all a bad runner, but unfortunately, your stamina does not nearly match his and he can still remember how cute you looked, tripping over your feet and waving your hand for him to slow down. The sweat that stuck to your face, neck, chest... how you were shivering all the while scraping to regain some oxygen in your lungs. Your fingers holding onto his arm, leaning into him with your eyes closed. 

You had looked so pretty that day, but all he could think about was whether or not you'd look the same if he were to have sex with you. Would the sweet bead up the same? Would your eyes get heavy once it was over? Would you pant and cling to him like now, doing your best to keep up and not collapse from exhaustion? That was the first time he ever thought of you other than as a friend, and ever since it feels like the daydreams have gotten a little worse.

Not nearly as explicit as yours, though.

God, you want to fuck him so bad. You want to ride him until your thighs burn, to feel his teeth marking your skin with every push of his hips, to open your mouth just so he can spit in it... reminding you that you're nothing but a perverted, disgusting, awful whore. That's exactly what you are. A brainless, hormonal...

Right, you're supposed to be leaving. With a final adjustment to the sweater he had kindly given you, you lead the way to the back door of the gym. You wish you didn't have to depart so soon, just before he had his hands all over you! Touching your legs, holding your waist... can't you turn back time just enough to go through that all over again? Even if it's just him guiding you to a proper punch. 

What you would give to feel those hands on your tits, or cupping the apex of your thighs. Would it feel different from when you touch yourself? Probably. His fingers are bigger, thicker, rough... you can only imagine the way they would curl to rub that special spot inside of your walls. You bet he would be able to make you squirt, you can only imagine it... if only.

"Make sure you sleep early," He chimes from beside you, "That way I can see you early before I have to go prepare for tomorrow night." It is bizarre how insistent he is on seeing you before the fight, did you do something different to yourself? Deep down, you're praying he may just have a little crush on you, but you doubt it. He could like anyone, he would never choose you... right?

Nonetheless, you don't let your selfish thinking distract you from the handsome man beside you. What doe sit matter whether he likes you or not? At least he talks with you. But every human has selfish desires, yours just happens to be wanting the crimson-haired boxer beside you to be yours, "I wouldn't miss a chance to see you," The words come out faster than you could bite your tongue, but with the cat out of the bag you roll with it, "Maybe I could bring you something to eat?"

The suggestions noticeably brighten him, the two of you coming out of the back door which you begin to lock for the night, "That would be nice, remember those grape leaves you had made that one time? I'd kill for those..." Neither of you misses how his voice noticeably quiets, as if he only wants you to hear that, for the huskiness in his tone to catch your ears. 

To say it doesn't cause a million and one butterflies to waltz in from your stomach into your chest, would be a lie. It would be a lie to deny how the most minuscule quirks he has always leave you in a state of your own temporary bliss. You wish you could hear him whisper over and over, to come up behind you like in those cliche romance films from the 60s. For his arms to encase your midsection, lips meeting the shell of your ear, telling you how his day is better now that he is home with you.

Oh, what you would give to live out a shitty romance film from however many decades ago with Mark. To be that mindless trophy wife even if for a day, to forget all responsibility and for him safely coming home to you to be your only worry. To spend your hours cooking and cleaning, making yourself look your prettiest if it means letting him use you to destress.

You just want to make him happy, is that so wrong? Maybe.

"I'll be sure to make you some," You say back, eyes falling from his to instead look at your sneakers, "W-Well, I'll see you early tomorrow... I'll be sure to bring your sweater back." You miss the subtle smile due to your eyes being elsewhere, a smile that lasts until you look back up to him, "Drive home safe, I can't wait to see the fight tomorrow."

The two of you bid your farewell, Mark keeping his eye on you up until you safely enter the comfort of your car, and only then does he get into his own. You always miss those gentlemanly gestures he does, how he never leaves until he sees you're safely in your car, always keeping an eye out for you whenever you go off to the bathroom. He gets so worried over you being just a minute too long, and part of him excuses it for a "need to protect" urge in him.

But a very small part of him has already learned to accept he may or may not have feelings for you, whether they are romantic or platonic, he cannot pinpoint; especially because he hasn't even fully accepted the fact he has potential feelings for you. 

Regardless, you drive away, unaware of how he waited for you to leave first. The entire ride home, all you could focus on was the cologne that stuck to the hoodie he let you borrow. How the masculine odor filled not only your nose but the car. It felt mocking like the hoodie knew how down bad you are forMark, but you try not to let it get to you. You try not to imagine how it would feel to bury your face into his shoulder and smell the cologne stuck to his skin.

That familiar heat floods between your legs, reminding you of how awful you are. Even with him gone, you can't stop the dirty thoughts. Maybe you just need to get laid? Maybe it's less that you like him, and just you being horny and deprived of intimacy. 

You know that isn't the case, but it's nice to pretend it is.

What would his favorite position be? Would he prefer you on top? Bent over? If you had to decide, you'd want to be able to see his face, to watch how good you can make him feel. No amount of brainstorming could probably compare to how sexy he would look engulfed in pleasure, nor how he would sound. You take him for someone who tries to hold back their moans, not wanting you to know you're being good for him.

"Oh, god..." You whisper under your breath as you continue to drive, knuckles bulging from gripping the steering wheel so hard, not to mention the ache in your lower back from how far you've arched yourself to try and ignore the throbbing in your clit. It's ridiculous, here you are driving home on an empty street, your apartment building isn't even that far away...

And yet you find yourself pulled over on the side of the road.

The entire time, you mentally scold yourself, eyes frantically looking about all the while you sick back into your seat. Your nose is buried into the collar of the sweater, the familiar scent comforting you while your hand moves under the waistband of your leggings and then under your soaked panties. Were you really this wet? Usually, you would be riddled with shame, but now? You can only thank yourself, knowing it will make it all the easier for your fingers to snake themselves inside of you.

You know that your fingers will never compare to the real thing, and most of the time you don't even get much pleasure from them being inside of you, but that minor sense of fullness somehow is just relaxing. Between your index and middle fingers being knuckle deep inside of your pulsating entrance, your walls clenching around what little space your fingers take up, and your palm grinding into your clit.

"M-Mark..." His name is always falling from your tongue, every time you find yourself viciously rubbing your clit in desperation, or grinding into the soft fabric of your pillow. Whatever you may be doing to pleasure yourself, his name is the only thing that you manage to utter during the entire process. Praising him for making you feel so good and whimpering how it's too much for you. 

If only he could see you now, curled up in your car and humping at your hand, panting and whining for the only man you've thought about for however long you've known him. If only he were here, to witness how filthy you are, that you're anything but sugar and honey - you're not sweet at all, you're just a needy nymphomaniac. 

You spread your thighs just a little more, fingers dipping in and out of your entrance only to then come out and give your neglected clit circular rubs before seeping back inside of your pussy, "I wanna cum,Mark~" Imagining it is his fingers pumping in and out of you, that it's his palm that continues to grind into your poor clit.

With the fabric of his sweater pressed firmly to your nose, it helps to muffle your pathetic sounds; strings of his name and pleas floating within the air of your car. the only other noise being the wet squelching sound of your fingers inside of you. It all feels so lewd, to be touching yourself like this in your car. If anyone were to find out, surely you would be not only shunned, but you'd never hear the end of it.

But god his hands felt so good on your thighs and waist when he was training you earlier, they were so warm, so big... his palms rough when they dragged over the skin of your arms. You wish he would've gone just a little higher

"F-Fuck... ah~ fuck me,Mark-" You squeak when your fingers nudge at your walls a little too roughly, further hiding your face in his sweater as it gradually becomes harder to contain your whimpers. The thought of him praising you, calling you his good girl, and saying you take it so well - would he pepper your teary face with kisses? Slow down to make sure he doesn't completely ruin you?

Your insides feel hot, tortuously hot. Every grind of your clit into your palm gradually brings you closer to the anticipated climax. Are you catching a fever? You know it is just your body readying itself for the oncoming bliss, the buildup in your stomach that feels like electricity, "I-I'm cumming," You breathe out a strained whine, "F-Fuck, I'm cumming... I'm cumming~!" You lose your voice as your fingers focus on your clit, rubbing back and forth against the poor nerve.

"M-Mark~ fuck, fuck, fuck- nngh~!" It all happens so quick, the squirting of your climax soaking into your panties and leggings, tainting the skin of your hand and pruning fingers, luckily not too much getting on the seat of your car. But it isn't the mess, it's the pulse you feel in your clit, a neverending throb that has your walls clenching and unclenching. 

You must look wrecked, between how you've managed to bizarrely sink into your seat, your leggings and panties slightly pulled down and your fingers covered in a mess of your cum and slick. You feel ridiculous more than you look it, having just touched yourself in your car to the thought of someone who most likely sees you as nothing but a friend. 

Once again you feel like you're taking a walk of shame; pulling your panties and leggings back up despite the uncomfortable and icky sensation of how wet the fabric is, adjusting yourself in your seat, and looking around for any ongoing or incoming cars. Only when you deem it safe, pulling out of the spot you had parked to continue your trek home, all in silence as a means to reflect on yet again letting your lust get the best of you.

All you can do is hope that when you get home and take a nice warm shower and make those grape leaves poor Mark asked for, that it will somehow erase this awful encounter with yourself from your head. Hopefully, tomorrow will be a better day. Though, you doubt it will take eight hours of sleep to cure you of the hormonal devil on your shoulder.

To make matters worse, the familiar chime of your phone interrupts your mental meditation on what just happened. Though, it isn't your phone that makes things worse, but rather the fact that the very name you see in the notifications bar is the one person you were hoping to get out of your head. You almost think not to answer, let alone look at it, but you could never do that to him.

Upon opening the message, you nearly cry with guilt - how can he be so sweet? Why do you have to be so awful?

Remember that time we went for a run? I forgot I took this pic of u when we finished... after u started to vomit because u pushed urself 2 much. U looked cute tho (:

Scrolling up you hold back the urge to get on your knees before some religious statue and beg for forgiveness. There he is smiling at the camera, holding it high enough to catch himself but also you in the back, to your surprise you don't look awful. Sure, you may be on the verge of death from running so much, and even sweatier than him, but the sunset somehow brought it all together.

And did he just say you looked cute?

You bite back the urge to squeal and get into a car accident, but mostly not to verbally freak out. Does he really think you're cute? Really? You almost don't want to believe it, why would he think you're cute? You don't dwell on it too much, happily accepting the compliment and rereading the message over and over again until another one comes through.

We should do it again, I had fun <3 see u 2morrow, don't forget the grape leaves!

Why does he have to be so perfect? It's always the nice guys who are barely out of your reach. Not that you deserve Mark, someone as obsessive as you doesn't deserve that sort of happiness - not when you focus more on wanting to have sex with him every day, rather than building up the courage to just ask him out.

Maybe tomorrow you will try.

The following morning comes all too quickly, but you give yourself credit for having not had a wet dream - something that shamefully occurs often - and waking up to the sound of your early set alarm without trouble. You're never usually up at this time, but keeping your promise to the crimson-haired man you think about more than you do yourself is your top priority. It would be awful to say you will be there with breakfast, only to diss him.

And surely he would end up not liking you at all, he has mentioned being prejudice against people who do not stay true to their words. 

You like to think that you got ready so quickly, so haphazardly due to your stress over possibly being late... but you know it's because of how excited you are to see Mark and the fact he told you he wanted to see you before he would have to go and prepare for his fight.

Before you leave, you make sure to grab his sweater which you left neatly folded at your desk. When you got home after your shower, the first thing you did was throw it in the wash and put it as far away from you as possible - that damned sweater, you should have never accepted it because look what it made you do! Nonetheless, you are grateful he thought of you and your health and that is the reason you washed it, to cleanse it of any and all evidence of the sin you committed in your car last night. It is still humiliating that you allowed yourself to lose that self-control, but at least you're not in denial. 

If your father were to have seen you with that hoodie, you are almost certain he would have recognized it and interrogated you. Luckily, that didn't happen, because if it had you aren't sure you would be able to explain without the flooding images of last night filling your head and driving you up the wall.

But none of that is your concern, not when you have to make it to the gym in time for him, you're certain he should be there at this time, as well as your father who is preparing the back building where all boxing training, practice, and matches go on. Your only hope is neither of you bumps into your old man, but with how analytical he is, he practically smells when and where he needs to stick his nose into business that isn't his.

As you pull your car into the lot of the gym, noticing the familiar vehicles that belong to both the man you are excited to see, but also the one you hope you don't bump into, the butterflies begin to catch up. He wanted to see you, even to now you still replay those very words, asking you to come by earlier so he could see you before he had to go and prepare himself for the night.

The nerves are beginning to start, you never quite got over that feeling that you were stepping into unfamiliar territory. You've known Mark for quite some time by now, can't you just get over it and walk in there? It isn't even him that you're fearful of, more so the eyes that may follow you the moment you step into the gym. What will others think? You're never so early, and walking up to the redhead with a bento box? You can only imagine the rumors this will start.

Yet, you suck it up. Your father didn't raise you to run away from things, worst-case scenario is he can't talk right now and you end up looking like a fool. You doubt it, but there are a hundred and one possibilities you are anything but prepared for. But isn't that what makes it exciting? The unknown.

Not really, you hate the unknown. The entire walk to the front door of the gym, as well as entering it to see not many people you are familiar with there, which isn't surprising since you work from the afternoon until it gets dark. Nowhere in sight do you see the redhead you have been waiting to see since you last saw him yesterday evening, and you aren't even sure where he could be.

Part of you worries you may be too late, but you figure if he were to be anywhere he must be in the back building. The only issue is you would have to possibly come face-to-face with your father, not only to hand back Mark's sweater but also breakfast you prepared for him. You almost think to just bail, claim there is a ridiculous amount of traffic and you're still on the road, but he isn't stupid.

And you're also not gonna hurt his feelings.

You carry yourself towards the back doors of the building to find the separate structure where all the boxers practice and train, it is rather run down in comparison to the main gym, but it makes sense since most of the fights that go on here go on without the knowledge of authority. You aren't even sure if your father has a proper permit for this building, but he's gotten away with it before, and you're sure you've seen local officers in their casual attire attending the matches.

But all of that is beside the point, not when you enter the building and come face to face with chaos. Between people moving chairs and tables around, cleaners mopping at the floor, boxers gathered to the far end of the building where you see your father. Unfortunately, there is noMark-

Before the figure behind you can even speak, this weird tingle down your spine alerted you to an approaching figure, which you quickly look back only to be met with long red hair and a bare, sweat-tainted torso. Had he always been so tall? So big? You have no clue where to even look, your eyes jumping from his chest to his shoulder, raking over his long hair, and finally locking with the familiar crimson eyes you are used to. You feel silly for staring at him, but you just can't help it.

"You made it," Comes his voice, a grin plastered onto his face at the sight of you holding his sweater and the bento box, "I see you brought me some gifts, is this what I think it is?" The tip of his finger points at the box of grape leaves, to which you hold them out for him to take, your words trapped in your throat at the sight of him completely shirtless in front of you. 

Mark opens the box and whistles at the plentiful amount of grape leaves you had prepared for him, "You spoil me~" He hums while bringing one to his lips, taking it all in his mouth in one bite. Your eyes lock on a droplet of oil that is stuck to the corner of his mouth, how his jaw looks when he chews, the bob of his adam's apple whenever he swallows. You can only imagine how much better he would look swallowing your cum, if only he was there last night to catch your juices in his mouth when you made yourself cum like that.

"How is everything coming along?" You finally find your voice, even if to just ask a question, from what you can tell most of the necessary tasks are just about done - which would leave Mark with an hour or so to get ready for the match later this afternoon - and most are just focusing on creating space to accommodate the customers coming to watch.

Nights like this your father makes the most money, charging for entry and snacks. You call him a shark for how he robs these people with his ridiculous fees, but what business is it to you? If it's what the people want, you're sure they would pay any amount just to watch some men beat each up other up. You weren't a fan of boxing until you first seen Mark, only ever wasting your time to see him in the ring.

When he swallows his third grape leaf, much to your shock, his eyes scan the room with an unsure shrug, "I'd say it looks fine, I've been trying to help out but your father refuses... keeps saying I should just go and warm up in the gym." You would figure as much, your father has favorites and those favorites tend to get the better end of the stick. 

You smile seeing how happy he is with the bento box you prepared for him, nothing makes you happier than when someone enjoys your cooking. Especially the person you like, a lot. It feels good to just be able to look at him and feel nothing but that giddy crush feeling bubbling inside of you, without the added turn-off of your anything but pure imagery that infests your less than perfect brain.

"There aren't too many people in the gym... maybe it will do you some good to stretch or something before you gotta get ready." Mark knows you're right, and he doesn't particularly enjoy doing absolutely nothing when everyone around him is up to some sort of agenda, "I don't plan on going anywhere now that I'm here, it wouldn't make sense... did you need help with anything in particular."

Of course, part of you is hoping to hear something like 'yeah, can you suck my dick?' but you know that won't happen. It is quite humiliating to even think that, how nice his thighs would feel in your palms, his cock shoved balls deep in your throat, tearing up and choking from the size. You bet he tastes just as good as he looks, and he looks like he tastes really good.

Mark closes the bento box, "Actually, yeah..." The three fingers the were covered in the thick oil that the grape leaves are cast in are one by one popped into his mouth, and oh is a sight to admire. His tongue dragging over the single-digit before dragging it out from his mouth with a light pop, "You mind wrapping my hands for me? I never do it tight enough." 

You've seen him struggle plenty of times with that hair of his, thick and down to his lower back. You aren't sure how he manages to take care of it, after all, it always looks so silky and voluminous. The women in those shampoo commercials could never compare, you're sure if Mark ever got into doing commercials he would have shelves empty within the first two seconds of the ad. 

Who wouldn't want to sit there and stare at him? His voice shaking every bone in your body, the way his muscles flex with the slightest movement, his pretty white teeth, not to mention thick lashes, and the way they frame his sharp eyes. Anyone would be happy to hear him talk, let alone drag their eyes over every dip and curve of his powerhouse of a body.

Before you are quiet for too long you come back to your senses, "Of course!" It comes out rather too enthusiastic, but Mark either doesn't notice or care. Especially not when you walk past him in that pretty little skirt of yours, you look so delicious clutching his sweater to your chest, your hips swaying in the most hypnotizing way. God forbid anyone, let alone your father catches his eyes checking you out from behind.

He follows you like a lost puppy, drooling over your legs and how soft they must be, how your thighs would feel amazing to just lay his head down on them. He's always found you attractive, and your sweet personality makes it ten times better. Whenever you wear those yoga leggings, he finds himself staring too long at you, watching you walk until you disappear somewhere.

What he would give to see you in cute little stockings, holding that skirt of yours up for him to admire the adorable panties you have on. Would you be into that? Letting him stare down at you, memorize every inch of your body, rub you through your panties, and push your shirt up and over your soft tits. The things he would do to you if you gave him the chance, and today he hopes he can coax you into paying more attention to him.

The two of you enter the gym, seeing that only a few other regulars have joined the same faces from when you came. The only sound being of the equipment and the cheesy music playing through the loudspeakers. Onlookers glance for a moment, watching the two of you as you both settle at one of the benches. You know they only look because they're interested in Mark and what he could possibly be doing with you. But who cares? You get to have an excuse to hold his hand!

"Did you sleep well?" He asks while fishing into the pocket of his shorts to pull out the hand wraps, "To be honest, I was a little worried about you since it was so cold... that's why I texted you, to make sure you were okay." Every word leaves you more and more in a state of speechlessness, he truly did care. All night that's all you could wonder if he genuinely cared and it turns out he did.

You contain your excitement, not wanting it to show how happy that made you, "Really?" You squeak out, "I-I was fine... your sweater kept me warm." You hide the flustered look by focusing down at the gauze in your hands, unwrapping the elastic material, "I made sure to wash it before I brought it back, I was pretty sweaty last night."

He finds you adorable, how your pretty hands hesitantly grab one of his and hold it in your lap. Your skin is so soft, so warm, he has to hold himself back from just squeezing or dragging his palm over the exposed skin. You're so careful with how you bring the gauze over his knuckles and between his thumb and index finger, making sure it is neither too tight nor too loose.

"Too bad, you always smell really good..." He watches your expression with a smirk, not missing how you tense up, "You never answered my question about whether or not you slept..." He loses his train of words as he watches your fingers trace over his knuckles. You're gentle, treating his hand like it's the most fragile thing you ever held, between the way you've fastened the gauze just right and are now just adjusting the wrap to better cover his abused knuckles.

The only thing on your mind is whether he takes proper care of his hands or not, does he make sure to clean them up and put ice? To massage all the kinks and knots out? You worry too much for him, not that he could ever tell. The tips of your fingers trace what scars aren't being covered, admiring how much he has probably been through to get this far. You've seen the way he trains, hours without a break, and always pushing himself, that's how stars are made.

Would it be so bad...? You feel conflicted, despite your hand already gradually bringing his closer to you, has anyone ever made sure he took care of himself? You try to do so, but sometimes your selfishness gets in the way. Is there anyone he lives with that pampers him? What you would give to be that person; rubbing his aching shoulders, kissing the bruises and cuts he has, washing his hair and back for him...

"y/n-" Your name leaves his mouth with a stutter, crimson eyes caught on your lips pressing delicate kisses to his knuckles. Your lips are soft, shimmering slightly from the lip-balm you have on, not to mention the warmth of your breath wafting against his hand. He doesn't protest, more so in awe at how pretty you look, how you don't even seem to be aware of what you're doing.

To say he hasn't pictured this exact scenario a hundred times or more, you wrapping his hands before a match, kissing each finger with one of your beautiful smiles. All he can do now is soak in this mini victory, a dream come true if you will. Your eyes peering through your lashes when your lips pull away from his hand, the cutest look of shame flashing on your pretty face, "Sorry, it just looks like it hurts..."

Mark stays silent as you hold his wrapped hand, reminiscing on how your lips felt on him, wondering if they would feel even better elsewhere. He doesn't respond right away, placing his unwrapped hand in your lap with a smile, "I liked it..." He says while you start to wrap his other hand, "Y-You should do it more often." 

You never expected him to say something like that, not that you expected him to be upset with you. To be honest, you weren't entirely sure what you were expecting his response to being when you pulled away. Part of you thought the atmosphere would grow awkward, unwanted even. Yet, here you are repeating the process with his other hand, the entire time you can't keep yourself from glancing up, only for your eyes to lock with his and his lips to curl into a smug smirk.

Just as you had with his other hand, you sheepishly bring the newly wrapped knuckles to your lips. Of course, this time you aren't as confident, but he finds it just as pleasurable. Your pretty eyes locked with his, kissing at the scarred flesh and trying to sit still. He can tell you're embarrassed simply by your body language, which you shouldn't be, he likes this show you're putting on for him.

Only when you finish, lowering his hand from your face and sitting up straight on the bench opposite to him, does Mark get a good look at your face. You would look good with a swollen bottom lip, irritated from his teeth nipping and tugging at it, and he wouldn't mind giving your cheek a playful bite, too. He realizes he doesn't quite want you to move away just yet, the simple act of you wrapping his hands already leaving him craving more of your attention.

"Could you help me with my hair, too?" You are only a little surprised by the question, especially since you've seen him put up his hair - despite it looking rather rough around the edges and a bit too low - and be perfectly fine with it. But you wouldn't turn down the opportunity to be close with him for a little longer. Did he ask that because he wants the same thing? You want to believe it.

Mark hands you the tie around his wrist, watching you come to a stand and circle around to stand behind him. His hair looks shiny, like layers of red silk on his head, "You have nice hair," You shyly state, putting the tie around your wrist as you start to gather his long and thick hair in your hands, "I bet you'd look nice with a half-up half-down style, but keeping it all up is probably for the best so it doesn't obstruct your vision, right?"

He wanted to answer you, but your voice sends such a chill through his spine, your warm breath hitting the back of his neck as you work to make sure not a single hair has fallen astray. Your fingers are like heaven, rubbing against his scalp, combing through the heavy bundle of red hair, "The last time I wore my hair down for a fight," He holds his tongue when you lean forward, the softness of your tummy pressing into him as you lean over his body to make sure you gather the hair in front, "I-It kept getting the way and stuck on things..."

You hum softly, not even really aware that the fact you're practically laying over his back to pull back the loose strands have him swelling in his briefs. Fuck, he would do anything to fill you up right here, let everyone watch him do it too. Pretty little y/n get her pussy stuffed for being a teasing little whore, panties around your ankle, barely fitting him inside of you. 

"You'll do great tonight," You say loud enough for only him to hear, "And um... maybe after we can go out for dinner?" Mark almost laughs at the predicament, it seems you beat him to it, "I-I mean, only if you're up for it, I just know this place with really good western dishes and I wanted-"

"Would you believe me if I said I was gonna ask you the same question after the match?" Your heart lodges in your throat, he is serious... right? Of course, why else would he say that? But it feels too good to be true! Would he really ask you out for dinner? It feels like everything is just falling together with the more the day goes by; wanting to see you before the match, wanting to ask you out for dinner, kissing his knuckles, touching his hair... it feels too perfect.

Technically it is because it seems your fifteen minutes of heaven is up when the familiar face of your father approaches you both, your fingers fall from the red hair you had been playing with, "I've been looking everywhere for you, kid... and you've been here the whole time!" His hands go up in the air, urgingMark to stand up, "Turns out we are actually behind schedule, the guys who came for the match are here an hour early so we gotta get you changed and ready to go in thirty minutes. Understood?"

PoorMark looks like a deer caught in headlights, "H-Huh? I thought the matches weren't until later...?" Even you are a tad confused by the situation, the matches are always held later in the day, wouldn't it be inconvenient to start now when there aren't even any customers?

But it turns out everything happens for a reason, "That was the impression I was under, but it turns out the new kid I hired to put up posters and shit put in the wrong damn time. So not only are people expecting a match in the next thirty minutes, but I haven't even finished getting the beer and shit out." Your father seems to be off the walls, between the anger in his tone and the way his brows are knitted close together, you don't think now is the time to upset him.

"You, go get changed and ready." Your father pushes Mark in the direction to the dressing rooms, "And you," He smiles while taking your face in his palms, "If I see that redhead getting too friendly with you I will kick his ass, now go and get yourself something to eat from the back you look half-awake." That's your father for you, even protective when the nice guys are around.

Alas, you do not argue, now is probably not the best time to tell him you wanted to go to dinner with Mark later tonight. You follow his orders to go and help with the food and beverages, you're sure he wouldn't want you working, but you figured with all the stress of the times being wrong you could help even just a little bit.

This is the most chaotic you have seen the gym, people coming with nowhere to go just yet, workers running around with chairs and tables and mops, carrying cases of whiskey and soda and things alike. If you weren't used to such disorder, for sure you would have cracked under the pressure of everything. Working a gym that also happens to have a "secret" boxing system in itself is just a mess.

Deep down, you feel bad for everyone and seeing the boxers rush in and out half-dressed in their uniforms and still trying to help, but at the same time, the fact that everything has been pushed earlier simply means you not only get to go out with Mark sooner but most likely stay out with him longer. You only hope that the stress of this mishap and the fight doesn't ruin those chances and he forgets, or even worse, just doesn't want to go out anymore.

As usual, you know that is just your overactive imagination and the pessimistic side of you, always questioning your worth and whether or not an opportunity is real or not. A lot of nights you spend laughing at yourself, how silly you were for holding so much doubt and worry over nothing; now is one of those moments.

When you should be focusing on helping to carry this case of water to the back building, you're wondering how Mark is coming along. He looked a little under pressure the last time you saw him, what if he might need help? Probably not...

But he did say he needed a little good luck before the match.

Maybe visiting him will somehow ease his nerves, despite him being a big guy with a lot of confidence, you are sure even men like him can be on edge for something like a boxing match. It's like football in high school minus being in high school and the football, right? Before game adrenaline, eyeing up the enemy, mentally and physically preparing yourself for the fight of your life. Everyone wants to win.

The only difference is that you know Markwill come out on top, you've never had as much faith in anyone as you do with him... which is why your feed deters from the back door to the second building in favor of finding which room Mark may be holed up in. Every dressing room has a name on it, and there are only five being used tonight because most of the boxers being trainees.

Your father is a big perfectionist, and if he doesn't have one hundred percent faith in you, then there is no way he will have you representing him. You learned that a lot growing up, but you think that's one of the reasons you crave perfection over minuscule things like how the gym equipment is set up, and where the towels and waters out, how things are accessible. They do say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

As you make your way down the hall of vacant and occupied doors, your eyes finally catch sight of the familiar name done in the familiar striking handwriting you have seen thousand times over. Mark has this little within quirk that you can easily identify, always sharpening his letters and irregular capitalization. You've always liked coming to work to see his name on the sign-in sheet, always so bold and pop from the rest of the list of names. 

For a moment you almost hesitate to knock on his door, but it is either now or never that you speak to him. You bring your knuckles to the door, knocking three times before stepping back and waiting. You don't hear anything on the other side of the door, could he have already left? It is a possibility, out of everyone his costume has always been the most... let's just say revealing. Mark is meant to be the eye-catcher, he is young, has bold red hair, is big and intimidating all the while looking soft.

All the boxers have their teams, and Mark's just so happens to be a nice, scary piece of eye candy. Not that you mind at all, more for you to look at! But when the door doesn't open, you come to the conclusion he isn't there, turning on your heel to head back out and see if anyone needs help. You're disappointed to say the truth, having wanted to talk with him for a second before the match, but not everything can just fall into place.

You get about ten feet from the door before you hear the sound of a door handle turning and the squeak of its opening, "y/n?" The familiar voice stops you in place, you had thought the door belonged to someone else but turning to look into the crimson eyes of the person you had been hoping to see, "Hey, what's up?" He is only a little shocked to see you there, to be truthful he was hoping it was you on the other end of the door when he hurried to get to it.

But you standing there, he almost didn't believe it for a second, not until you scurried your pretty little self back the way you came to meet him at his door, "N-No! I just thought you could use a little help, you looked distressed when you had to rush out of there before." Your words sink in for a moment, you were worried. He finds it rather cute, you worrying your head over him and wanting to be a good helper.

"Is that so...?" He hums, smiling when you slowly crack under his gaze, "Can you help me get this shitty top on? Your father forgot to order a bigger size so we are trying to compromise." You're a little flustered to help him with his costume of all things, you'll be alone in a room with him and his uniform barely covers anything. Between the fact, his entire torso is revealed aside from the signature black arm sleeves, and you'll be dangerously close to him? You are melting and you aren't even entirely in his room yet.

No matter what, you refuse to turn him down, not now. You look both ways down the hall before quietly entering his room, the door shutting behind you both, "I'll be sure to order a resizing for you," You say and examine the rest of what should be a part of the top of his costume, "He must have gotten you mixed up with the new guy, but that's okay people aren't here to judge you for what you're wearing!"

Mark sits down for you, letting you adjust the arm sleeves on his arm, due to the collar and shoulder pieces not fitting him, they won't have anything to be held up with, "I find it kinda funny how big your dad is about image and impression, considering he has men beating on each other for like four hours straight." Your fingers feel hot against his skin, apply a makeshift tape to the inside of the hem of the sleeves so that it has a better grip on his biceps.

"I was thinking... maybe instead of staying for everything to finish, we could just go out as soon as my match is over?" Your heart leaps at the suggestion, you're starting to think that he can read your thoughts, that the entire time you were freaking out over that dinner date not working he heard it all and was now making sure you could rest assured. Again, once again your imagination going over the top, but it doesn't kill a girl to dream!

With nothing more to modify regarding his costume - which you realized he never needed help with it to start and he was giving an excuse for you to stick around - you circle to look him in the face, "I would like that, I don't really... I kinda only go to these matches to watch you." He knew that but you don't know that he knows, so he pretends he is shocked, "A-And because the matches are earlier than they were supposed to, maybe we have time before or after dinner to do something else?"

His mind wandered, he won't deny it, what could pretty y/n possibly have in mind for before or after dinner? He'd love for it to be you bouncing in his lap with your tits spilling out that top of yours, you'd probably love that, wouldn't you? Mark can just imagine how good you would look, squealing and gasping, doing your best to take his big cock, even crying a little because you don't wanna mess up and not be good enough for him.

Fuck, you look so tantalizing standing there, your fingers messing with one another in front of you as you wait for a response, "What did you have in mind?" Mark wants to know what sort of ideas you have brewing in your head. Here is he wanting to fuck you whenever he gets the chance, and poor you have no clue. Part of him wouldn't be surprised if you have fantasies of your own, it's always the one who acts all sweet and sugary that ends up being sour and spicy.

"I-I'm not sure... but we could figure it out later, right?" He is a little disappointed you didn't have anything specific you wanted to do, but he figured as much since everything is so last minute. Nonetheless, he can't wait to see what happens later, he knows you'll make it work just like you always do.

The silence that falls for a few brief seconds doesn't last long when a knock comes at the door, to which you look over in horror. You don't need someone walking in and seeing you here, especially if that is your father. But Mark has it under control, going over to the door and peeking out. You can't see who it is, but you can hear their conversation from start to finish.

"You're on in five, so get that uniform finished and get out there, 'kay?" You figured it was your father with how strict he is when it comes to time, "Also, have you seen y/n?" You freeze up at the mention of your name, you'll be dead if he so much as smells you in this room, which is the reason you sink further into the corner and as far away from the door as possible.

"I haven't, but I'll be done in a minute, don't worry." Less is more with your father, and thankfully you can hear the sound of him going on with whatever it was he was doing before checking on Mark. The door clicks shut and only then do you let out the breath you had been holding, "Shit, that was close..."

If only he knew how badly your heart was racing, and you wish you could say it was out of fear, but all you feel is hot, that adrenaline of your father finding his sweet little girl in the room of one of his scary boxers. What would he think? Sure he would tie you up in the tallest tower, but he would for sure hasMark's head on a pike in the gym. You almost miss that he is beginning to gather his things and ready himself to go out to the ring.

You still haven't given him any sort of good luck; no pep talk, no awkward friendship bracelet, no bouquet of cheap flowers. Why were you even here then? You wonder if he is disappointed, he did specifically say 'are you going to give me some good luck?' yesterday and here you show up empty-handed. But the last thing you want is to leave him with no sort of confirmation that you wish him the best.

Before he can leave, you are quick to make a move, "Mark-" You stop him with a grab to his wrist, crimson orbs look over broad shoulders to meet your own, "You said you needed good luck before the game..." What are you doing? You have nothing to give or show...

Markwaits in suspense, he had entirely forgotten the very words he said yesterday. He didn't mean it he was just teasing you a little like he always does. But the fact you remembered? He is flattered, albeit confused because he doesn't see anything in your hands and you don't have a bag or pockets on you... his head wanders, maybe a kiss? He would be more than just happy with that, through the roof even!

But as he watches you, tense where you stand and caught in some sort of conflict, the last thing he expects is to see you bend forward. He isn't quite sure what it is you're doing at first, but then your hands shimmy up and under your skirt.

What makes it even more of a smack to his face is when he sees something pink and lacy being slipped down your legs. Maybe it was how dumbfounded he was, but until you slipped your pretty legs out from the fabric and hold it out for him, does he realize that little pink lace is your panties, "A-A good luck charm for Red Riot from his... from his number one fan."

The two of you stand there for what seems like forever, did you kill him? He looks almost dead where he stands, his eyes wide, and locked on the bundle of fabric in your hand. You almost worry you did too much, "Kick some ass." You quickly take his hand and shove your panties in them, hurrying out the room with the most flustered yet satisfied grin on your face. You did it, sure it may have been a bit much, but your feelings are out there and the ball is in his field. Now it's his job to decide whether he accepts it or not.

You hurry out to the back building, knowing your father is most likely being driven up the wall by not knowing where you are. You concoct an excuse in your head, you were just in the bathroom because something you ate didn't sit right. He would believe that, right? He's always doting after you like you're still his little princess dressing up and walking around in sequins and glitter.

The building is a lot more crowded than you expected, but it is easy to find your father after shimmying through the crowd, "Where the hell were you, y/n? I was asking everyone and running around like crazy, I thought some psycho had-" You stop him with a gentle pat to his back, oh if only daddy knew what exactly it was you were doing, "Whatever, it doesn't matter, right? You're here, and you better be making sure you leeches don't go over and try to steal snacks."

Almost directly after, your father is surfing through the crowd to try and sell gym merch, memberships, popcorn, and peanuts. He has always been a businessman at heart, and you are anything but shocked to see him with his bag of random foods and trinkets to sell to customers.

The chaos doesn't last long, the familiar ring of the bell that calls attention to the crowd has the room quieting. You are familiar with the process of hyping up the crowd, when you were little and watching boxing matches on television with your father, you would imitate the spokesperson to make him laugh. You always wanted to do something like that, have all eyes on you as you do nothing but talk.

But you grew out of it inevitably, though it doesn't mean watching someone else do it makes it any less enjoyable, "Anyway, let me stop boring you all with meaningless conversation... let me welcome the man representing this very ring, Red Riot!" Everything else was a blur, Mark happily coming out, but if anyone could tell something was off it was you. The way his eyes wolfishly searched the crowds, as if he is expecting something or someone to be there...

Only after the spokesperson finishes introducing the redhead to the crowd of wild and returning fans, does he return to that strange behavior of looking around, he doesn't even pay attention to his opponent who is trying to antagonize and rile him up. What you least expect is for him to walk straight across the ring to where you are and lean down so you can get a good look at his face, "You're crazy," He whispers with one of the scariest smiles you've ever seen, "I think I figured out what we could do before dinner, you better be in that dressing room when this is over."

If anything could describe the things you felt right then, it would be both fear and excitement. Especially when he shamelessly reaches through the ring, knowing your father is completely distracted and grabs you by the collar of your shirt, and pulls you forward. You trip over your own feet, holding down your skirt when you remember you gave your panties to the crimson-haired man that has you in the palm of his hand.

Mark presses the sweetest kiss to your cheek, and if it weren't for the fact you both were in public, you would have grabbed his face and smashed your lips right onto his. But you take what you can get and flash him your prettiest smile before he has to let you go and return his attention to the man he is supposed to fight.

Everything feels surreal, your fingers constantly reaching up to touch the exact spot his soft lips had found your skin. God, if you were to die you would be totally fine with it after having that kiss, the match feels like a blur. Usually, you are ready to cheer him on, but now? All you can manage to do is watch and wait for it to be over, and with the way, the fight is going? You're certain the poor guy he is against is going to fall any second. 

Mark dodges the third punch the guy has thrown, you're starting to think he is growing desperate and exhausted. Why else is he just throwing random and uncoordinated punches? You've seen it a thousand times before, they always start going wild when they are tired and desperate. And you know Mark well, he isn't a fan of a sloppy opponent. This is why, although you flinched, you're also not surprised by the force he puts into his punch to humble the man in front of him. You hate how messy things can get, the sweat on them, blood... it's like watching two wild bears claw at one another's throats.

"Ouch! Looks like you're gonna pass out there, buddy... thinking of calling it quits and handing the win to Red?" You wish he would say yes, that he would just give up and let Mark have it for the night. You can barely find it in you to worry over some boxing match when he demanded you to meet him in his room. All of these scenarios are burning through your head, and even if it isn't what you want, you would be more than happy with another kiss.

Between the punches and swings, the blood you just noticed was dripping from Mark's nose and onto the lips he had kissed you with, it is all so overwhelming in addition to your hormones going crazy. You have never wished for a boxing match withMark to be over so badly, and it isn't even that you don't want to see him fight! You just want to see him elsewhere, specifically in private... specifically where he is undressed.

But when you see the man get Mark in a headlock, your heart drops for a second, he has this, right? You know he does, but you hate how long it's taking him to get out of that. You always get nervous for him when he takes a few seconds too long to take the advantage back, "Oh, do we have a possible turn around?" You can't stand him being stuck like that.

The only thing you know that could possibly give him the energy he needs to get out of that headlock is someone cheering for him. And sure the whole room is cheering from him, but he specifically told you, 'hearing you cheer is different from hearing everyone else, so use your voice!'

With all you have, you take a deep breath and cup your mouth to amplify your voice, "You got this,Mark!" And if anyone can pick your name from the crowd, it is him. It's like watching someone suddenly going through a drug boost, the way his arms coming up and tug himself free of the grasp around his head, all you can do is continue to cheer for him until he finally lands a good enough punch stun the guy. Red eyes find you in the crowd, and although he looks scary with the swollen lip and blood from his nose, you still get butterflies when he gives you that charming smile and a wink.

"Never mind, Red Riot has once again held his ground! Don't forget to place your bets in the back on who will win and possibly receive a free gym membership for two months!" It feels like you have been standing there for a million years, the snack table isn't even at the top of your priority list right now, you couldn't care less if they stole everything including the table!

The fight is already in the hands of the very man you have been cheering for this whole time, you didn't doubt it for a second. It is only a matter of either that man tapping out or Mark knocking him out and you don't care which it is. You are on the tips of your toes with how things are looking, Mark has insane stamina but you can tell he is getting a little fed up and tired, "Knock him out, Mark!" 

He lands a punch to the abdomen, the man curling over to armor his stomach, which anyone knows is the worst thing you can do. Right then and there, you knew it was over, especially when right after Mark knocks him directly in the nose and the guy goes falling back. He may not be unconscious, but his body language, the wooziness to his movements... you know he is finished.

"Aaaand~" Everyone counts down from three, "We have checkmate! But are we surprised with who is the winner? No!" You don't even listen to what the man has to say, not when the referee climbs the ring to hold Red Riot's fist in the air, a formal symbol that he has taken this week's fight. 

And when he looks right at you with that goofy smile of his, you can't help but to practically jumping in place with your biggest smile, blowing him a kiss. Of course, you didn't forget his demand for you to meet him in the dressing room. The moment you see him climbing out of the ring, you are high tailing out of that building. Could your father be calling for you? Maybe. Do you care? Absolutely not.

Not when you are holding down your skirt and running double-time right out of that humid building to get to where you need to be. Every muscle in your body is aching, every nerve aflame. If you could describe what it was you were feeling, it's like teetering over the edge right before you cum. To feel everything in your body working, like a thousand electric shocks straight to your core. 

You're so focused on getting down that hallway and into that room, your ears are deaf to the oncoming footsteps rapidly approaching behind you, "Gotcha!" A scream catches in your throat when you recognize the arms that wrap around your midsection and pick you up, no one else wears black arm sleeves like this, "C'mere." His hand grips your jaw, forcing you to look back at him just so his lips could finally meet yours.

And you should be disgusted by the blood from his nose rubbing off on your upper lip, or how you can taste the iron on your tongue. But you have waited so long to kiss him like this, even if it wasn't you imagined a hundred times over, it feels better than you could ever concoct in your imaginative brain. His lips are not at all chapped, they are soft and plush and perfectly mold with yours. 

Only when his tongue playfully swipes at your bottom teeth do the two of you break apart for air, eyes locked together in a moment of silence. You've never felt like this, as if you have a million and one little feathers moving around all inside of you, "I don't what I'm gonna do to you first." His voice is like a growl against your nape, the vibrations deep and rumbling into your sensitive skin.

He doesn't let you go yet, his arms remain tight around your torso as he carries you in front of him the rest of the way to the room with your toes barely touching the ground, "What are you going to- ah~!" Your eyes tear up when he sinks his teeth into your neck, slamming the door behind him with his heel, "M-Mark... mm~" He doesn't let up on your neck, sucking at the already darkening bite mark he has created. If someone were to tell you that you would be in this situation, with Mark Markholding you snug against his front and forcing you to bend over the vanity in his dressing room, you wouldn't believe them.

"Fuck, I was so close to grabbing you and dragging you right back in here when you gave me these," He digs your panties from his pocket, "You thought that was cute, huh? Tugging these off right in front of me like that?" You know he isn't expecting an answer, but you can't expect but to give him the smuggest nod you can while looking at him in the mirror, "You think you're so cute, don't you?"

The way he speaks with you, it's almost on the dot with every fantasy you have had. To feel like the perfect bittersweet brat just for him, if this is the reaction you will get then you plan to push his buttons more often. Every word that leaves him has you further hooked on his line and you will do anything just for him to keep whispering those things in your ear, for him to grab your face and make you meet his eyes.

"I wanna kiss again..." You give him your sweetest pout, doing your best to peer over your shoulder and trying to reach behind you to bring him closer, but he is having none of your little needinesses. Your hands are gathered easily in one of his big palms, pinned in front of you at the desk, "Mark, please~" 

He gives you a shake of his head, his free hand coming up to grab your chin and keep you still for him, "Nuh-uh, look at you..." His thumb swipes at your upper lip, "Got blood all over you, babe..." You felt it and tasted it the moment you kissed him, but you couldn't care less, your tongue dragging over your upper lip to clean it up. And you didn't miss the wolfish look in his eyes, watching your tongue drag over that blood and smear it even more.

Before your tongue can retract back into your mouth, he is quick to lean forward and press his lips to yours so his tongue can pry its way into your mouth. You don't fight it either, this is exactly what you had wanted and you are getting it. His tongue tastes like mint and a hint of iron from his busted bottom lip, but it is all good to you, if you could you would dance your tongue with his until you were on the brink of asphyxiation.

But you know that isn't possible, not when he is already pulling away from the kiss in favor of leaving a trail of them down your tender neck. It tickles, but you take it like you're supposed to, only somewhat flinching when he finds the bruise he had already left. It feels like needles, burning under the playful tracing of his tongue over the bite marks in your flesh. 

"Jerk..." You're silenced with a sharp spank, and you should be whining over it, but you've wanted this time and time again. You have no room to complain that it left your poor ass burning, not when it has you craving another. He likes your little resistance, how you give him something to dance around. As much as he enjoys the idea of you being his submissive little lamb, this little game you have going on is all the more interesting.

Without warning the bottom of your skirt is tugged up, your bare and wet pussy coming right into view, "Look at you, walking around with nothing under this... I bet you enjoyed that, look at how wet you are." Mark's hand is so hot on your ass, tugging it to pull your pussy nice and open for him to look at. You look so soft, so sweet, if he could he would take a nice bite out of you right now.

"Fuck, you think you can fit it?" You try to answer, you really do, but you can't stop focusing on his hand mocking you. The way it slowly circles your ass, the pad of his thumb barely grazing at your slit, "You want it, don't you?" You nod slowly while watching him through the mirror, how his abdominal muscles flex with every movement of his body, the sweat that sticks to his skin, not to mention the evident strain in his pants.

Everything feels hot, from the tip of your nose down to your toes, it's like you've been engulfed in hellfire... in a good way. Everything he does to you feels good, even if it's just locking eyes with you in the mirror, or readjusting your hips to take in every dip, curve, and roll on your pretty self. It doesn't matter what he does, and you know that the reason he has you so worked up is simply that it is him.

You are aware that the two of you are strapped for time, being here and like this is as unconventional as it can get. You know you can't be too loud, and you both can't take as long as you want, but you plan to make the most of it. If anything, you still have time to possibly exchange that dinner date for something else and you're sureMark wouldn't mind that, not with how you can feel his breath down your spine.

As much as you dreamed of your first encounter with him to be romantic, the moment you slipped off your panties and put them in his hand drew the line between a romantic night out and the potential that night you both won't be able to keep your hands to yourselves, "You're gonna watch me fuck you," He points at the mirror for you to look, not that you haven't been staring at yourselves through it this whole time, "I want you to see the slutty faces you make."

For a moment, you actually believed that he would finally fuck you, as foolish as that is, but rather than pulling off his own pants he is guiding you to sit on the vanity desk with your front showing in the mirror. The awkward position forces your pretty thighs open, giving you a look at just how ruined your pretty little cunny is, how your slick sticks to it and dribbles just a little onto the vanity you are sat on.

No words are exchanged between the both of you, his eyes are locked on your changing expression while yours are locked on his wandering hands. His fingers snake their way from your waist, gradually moving upward and under your shirt. His palms are rough and calloused, still wrapped in the gauze you had done prior to the fight, pulling at the sensitive skin of your torso. The fabric has the hairs on your neck standing up and when his large hands grope your tits through your bra you feel a familiar electric shock goes straight to your core.

"What're you making that face for?" You hadn't realized the way your face scrunched up in response to his hands, and the cocky smirk on his face only makes you all the more embarrassed, "Are you sensitive here...?" To test his intuition, his fingers push under your bra to feel at your bare tits, grinning at how soft they are and the way they fit so nicely in his palms.

You hate how it makes you feel, how every swipe of his thumb over your nipple has your hips bucking just a little, "M-Mark... mm- ah!" You're caught off guard by the mean pinch he gives your pert nipples, giving the sensitive buds an observant twist, watching your every reaction and every little twitch of those soft thighs. You look perfect, completely at his mercy and leaning back into him as his hands do what they please under your shirt, "Hah... y-you don't have to be so harsh..."

"No?" You shake your head in response, a cute little pout pulling at your bottom lip, "But I like how you react and look," One of his hands pull from beneath your shirt in favor of hiking up the bottom of your skirt to reveal your swollen and dripping pussy, "You seem to like it, too... making a mess all over yourself." He isn't wrong, you love it. You love the burn of your nipples with every painful twist, how your tits feel sore from his tight squeezes.

But simply touching them aren't enough for him, he wants to see them. You're already a pretty little thing, he doesn't doubt for a second your tits will only add to the list of things he likes about it. As well as to the list of things that turn him on, you being at the very top of that list.

You peer over your shoulder expectantly, eyes flicking from his down to his lips, you give him the only hint he needs to lean forward and slot his lips with yours. His tongue tastes just as good in your mouth as it did before, dancing teasingly and brush under your tongue. It's a wet, icky feeling but also one you wouldn't want to share with anyone but him. And with you so distracted by his tongue dancing with yours and tracing over your teeth, it gives him the perfect chance to do as he pleases.

One hand is swift with guiding your shirt up and over your tits, and it doesn't take much effort for his two fingers to get the clasp behind your back to snap open. The only obstacle being the straps that prevent him from completely taking the article of clothing off, but you're already on it, all without breaking the kiss you are sharing with him. While you work your arms out of the straps but also keeping your shirt on just in case you two have to make a run for it, Mark focuses his attention on your spread legs.

Opening just one of his eyes allows him to see the arousal that sticks to your cunny shimmers against the light of the room, all he has done was kiss you and play with your tits... you're a perverted girl, getting this wet over nothing, he bets you were thinking things that would leave even him a little shocked. Maybe later he will make it his mission to drag those fantasies out of you.

With the way you're situated on the vanity, feet planted on the desk as to give him the best view of your entire body in the mirror, it is easy for you to spread your legs impossibly wider for his hand that continues to slowly travel down your navel. The kiss breaks, only for you to little his jaw and neck with kisses, stopping right under his ear to begin sucking your own hickey into the sensitive skin.

Nothing could have prepared you for when his fingers finally met your throbbing clit, dragging over the neglected nerve, barely applying pressure with how he circles your clit and smears your arousal over your pussy, "You're a messy little thing, aren't you?" A pathetic hum of agreement passes your lips at his question, one you know he didn't expect you to answer. But he doesn't pay too much attention to that, not when he is dragging his fingers down between your folds to spread you open, "Fuck, you're so tight..."

Mark prods his middle finger at your not-yet-prepped entrance, watching how your walls suck his finger inside in desperation for some sort of relief. All this teasing and beating around the bush has your poor insides churning from the suspense. It's only one finger, but just as you expected that one finger feels a million times better than your two fingers. He knows how to curl them, to rub at the spongy patches inside of you, "Mm~! I-It feels good there..."

"Where?" He coos at your relaxed expression, "Here?" His finger rudely jabs at the spot he knows is making every muscle in your body go lax, to which you flash him a less than pleasant glare, "I'm just playing with you." His index finger is careful with how it slowly eases itself inside, pushing in with your middle fingers and getting you used to the stretch. It feels good, no discomfort in the slightest, and you can assume it's because of the way he continues to mess with that single spot that had your knees buckling.

His fingers push in as far as they can go just to mess with your walls, grinding and curling at the sensitive patches of nerves, only to remove both fingers entirely just to give your poor clit a few wet pats, "Ngh-Markiii, stop teasing it hurts..." He knows it does, he can see it in your twisted expression with every tap your clit receives, how you go from relaxing in his arms to flinching at the abuse.

But he can't help himself, not with how adorable you look bucking into his hand when he circles your clit, or your thighs twitching at the intrusion of his fingers. You look stunning, grabbing at his wrist when he is too rough, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. If it means seeing you continue to make such soft noises and to continue to breathe out his name like that, he'll keep doing what he has to do.

"If you don't want me teasing you, what do you want?" Oh, he can tell you weren't ready for that. It reads entirely in your flustered expression, and his fingers continuing to pump inside of you aren't doing anything to help... especially with the lewd squelching sounds your cunny just can't seem to stop making. It's humiliating, to say the least, how your pussy sucks his fingers inside desperately, the eroticism of watching his fingers disappear inside of you.

"M-Mark...: You don't even want to say all the things you want him to do to you, how do you tell him you've always wanted this? That night and night again you have touched yourself to the thought of him doing just about everything to you, from bouncing you in his lap, riding his face, bending you over, and having his way with you. You don't know where to start.

Mark can read it in your eyes that you have your words lodged in your throat, "If you don't tell me, this is all you're gonna get," He emphasizes his words with the pats of his fingers against your clit, "So be a good girl and speak up." You know he won't let you go until you give him exactly what he wants, the words are right on the tip of your tongue!

Your breath gets caught in your throat when his fingers slip out from your cunny, only to begin rubbing your clit back and forth, "I-I..." You squeak as he only seems to be rougher with you, purposely making you trip over your own words, "Mark~ fuck, fuck fuck-" Your fingers dig into his wrist, "I-I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna-" A strangled breath gets caught in your throat when he quickly pulls his fingers from your clit, "W-Wait, I was close,Mark!"

"Answer me and I'll let you cum." 

His lips on your throat make it all the more difficult, but without the added pressure of his fingers abusing your poor cunny, you finally muster up the words to tell him, "I want you..." He gives you that look, the one that shows he expects more, "I want you inside me-"

"What do you want inside?" He coos, fingers brushing under your chin to bring your focus to him, "My fingers?" You shake your head with a subtle smile, "Hm... this?" He sticks out his tongue at you, only to earn himself another shake of your head. He feigns ignorance, pretending he has no idea what you could be possibly talking about. 

Your sneaky fingers reach behind you, Mark didn't even notice because of how absorbed he was with your cute tits, cupping at the bulge in his pants, "This..." He didn't expect you to be so bold, not after how stubborn you were just being, but he likes the playful squeeze you give him, "Does that answer your question?" Your snooty little comment earns a sharp pinch to your clit.

"Yeah, it does," Through the mirror you can see him undoing the belt that holds up his pants, watching the cargo material fall around his thighs and revealing just how strained his aroused cock is against his briefs, "C'mon, get down and bend over the desk." You didn't expect him to be so quick to give you what you want, but deep down you think he still has something up his sleeve.

Without arguing, you climb down from the vanity as you were told, watching Mark in the mirror as you lean forward and put your weight on the desk. As much as you were watching him, he was also watching you. His eyes dragging down the curve of your back to your soaked pussy peaking from under the hem of your shirt, he has imagined this very scenario time and time again, and here you are right in front of him.

Somehow the real thing requires so much more thought than if it were only in his head, knowing whether you're okay, making sure you're not uncomfortable. No longer is it all just him and his dirty thoughts, he has to worry about your feelings too. And he is fine with that, but he never expected himself to feel like he has two tons on his shoulders by simply looking at you. It's one thing for you to be in his head bent over, but for you to be bent over actually in front of him? Well, let's just say his nerves aren't cooperating.

Maybe you noticed this, enough that briefly stand up from your previous position to meet his gaze, "I'm kinda nervous..." If he knows it isn't just him that's a little fearful of the unknown, there is a possibility it could bring back his confidence, "We can start slow and find our flow, right? that's how it's supposed to be." You're right, and he knows you are, maybe it was the thought that you had these high expectations that were making him nervous.

Little does he realize, as much as you want to be pretty enough and good enough for him, he wants to be just the same for you. But seeing the way you look at him, no sort of judgment or expectancy behind your eyes, giving him your signature smile, helps to melt all of that frustration and uncertainty away. You've always been good at doing that.

He isn't sure what came over him to cup your cheeks like that and pull you into a kiss, and sure the two of you knocked teeth from how urgent the kiss was at first, but the passion behind the kiss seemed to cast every sliver of doubt and second-guessing aside. All of your focus is on him, and his focus is on you in that very moment. 

The electricity that surges through you with every push of your lips against his, tugging at his lip only for him to bite back and do the same to you. It's like you two found a middle ground, the kiss connecting you both in a way nothing else could, blindly guiding you two in the position you both need to feel comfortable. Somehow you finding yourself seated on the vanity desk and his hips between your spread thighs.

You break the kiss, lungs burning from holding your breath for as long as you could, eyes falling down between your spread legs, "Ah..." Your breath catches at the sight of him beginning to push inside, you didn't get a well enough look at how big he is, but the feeling alone is a little unnerving. You aren't even sure how much is in, but it feels like more than you truly think it is.

"Don't pay attention to that," His voice is hushed, grabbing your attention and making you pick your head back up, "Does it hurt?" To be honest, it doesn't, it's more like this full stretch that is only slightly discomforting. Something you weren't prepared for but believe you can handle. You shake your head, not wanting him to think he is doing something wrong, which he isn't.

His hair looks so soft, albeit messy because of the fight, but nonetheless still silky and you can't keep your fingers from combing into it, "I want another kiss," Your fingers tug the tie from his hair and watch the red locks fall to lay over his broad shoulders, "Unless you're too nervous to kiss me, hm?" 

Your challenge ignites a fire within his chest, you sure know what things to say and when to get him riled up. And what you just said about him being too nervous? Oh, he isn't having it. Mark doesn't even need to speak for you to see the "game on" look in his eyes, and it doesn't make you any more shocked when his hand finds your throat and uses it to pull you forward.

The air is knocked from your lungs at the jerk of your body forward to meet him halfway, but you don't complain for a second, not when he gives you the confidence you had thought disappeared. It feels good to have that authoritative role back in him, for him to be taking back control with how he wants you and what he wants to do to you. Through the sloppy kiss that he has you locked in, you can feel your body being laid back on the vanity.

To your surprise, you have enough room to properly lay back, and with that Mark takes advantage of it. The desk perfectly supports your weight, allowing him the chance to grab your right leg and hoist it over his shoulder to create a more open angle for him to have you in. Immediately you can tell the difference in the feeling with this position, it pushes deeper at your walls rather than just rubbing past those spongy patches.

"Ngh... fuck, th-there it..." You can't form the right words to tell him how good it feels, even with the slow and controlled pace he has set for you, "Mark, I can take more. Please." You don't even try to hide the need in your tone, how it comes out as almost a whine rather than a polite little request. And he doesn't mind the demand, if you need more he is going to give it to you. After all, you're used to being daddy's little princess.

"You really think you can take more?" You nod your head, your hum of affirmation coming out as a moan, "Yeah? I don't think you can." His words contradict his actions, his back arching forward as he picks up the pace. No longer is the room echoing with nothing but moans and the obnoxiously wet sounds of your overwhelmed cunny, but the added volume of skin slapping skin makes what you both are doing here all the riskier. 

His cock is ruthless, no matter the pace he uses you can feel every vein and the slight curve of his member, it feels too much even if he isn't giving you enough. The size itself is a problem, and he likes to use that to tease you; you're too small, you can't take it... it doesn't matter. If he finds a way to make you feel little and weak in comparison to him? He goes for it.

And you don't mind, you like the dominance, how he keeps you pinned down with one hand on your throat and the other pinning your left thigh down. You feel completely at his mercy where you lay, unable to do anything but take it, "Mark, fuck, fuck-" 

"Shh," He warns you, "Don't forget where we are." And you haven't, the whole time you two have been doing this all you could do was worry over someone walking in or by or something, "Don't need your father finding out his little girl is getting her sloppy pussy stretched open... and it'll make it worse if he finds out I'm the one doing it." You know that, but you're a big girl, you don't need your father's permission to get laid!

Unfortunately, you keep that attitude too. Why should you have to keep quiet? You're having fun, that's no one's business but yours and Mark's. "B-But... but I like it-" You gasp when your right leg is brought down from your shoulder in favor of both knees being pinned to your shoulders, "Ah- too much, too much, too much~!" 

Mark, as much as he loves your sexy moans and cutesy whimpers, he doesn't love the idea of either of you getting caught like this, and what better way to fix the noise problem than shoving the panties you kindly give him right in your mouth? And it's only better that the pink of your panties looks nice hanging from your glossy lips. 

"That's what you get, babe..." He pants out each word and adds salt to the wound by flashing a cocky grin, "Bad girls who can't keep quiet when they're told get dirty panties in their mouth." If only he knew the things he was doing to you, the strikes to your core his cock cause, how his intimidating dominance over you has your insides turning, "But you don't need your voice to make you feel good, right? Look at you..."

It's ironic that he asks you to take a look at yourself, a mirror is just behind you and you can't see yourself from this angle. Luckily for you, your redhead is one step ahead to make sure you can really see how slutty you look right now with those panties shoved in your mouth. Mark takes your hips, wordlessly guiding you to turn around onto your stomach and plant your feet back on the ground.

You are forced to look yourself in the eyes, to see the little tears pricking the corners of your eyes, look at your swollen lips and your panties, and to make it all the more humiliating, Mark is standing right behind you. He is staring right at you, making sure you know he is there and watching you, and if that doesn't make you nervous... you aren't sure what does.

A hand comes down to grip your chin, fixing your head to look straight at the mirror and more specifically yourself, "Don't look away from that mirror, understood?" His voice is at least two octaves lower than before, rumbling in the pit of his chest and vibrating against your back. It shakes your core, but in the best way possible, tingles running up your spine and back down.

It isn't long before the warmth and fullness of his cock is sinking back inside of your gummy walls, making itself comfortable deep inside of you to the point his tip kisses gently at your cervix, "It's all the way in, y/n..." He whispers into your ear, "You ready? You think you can take all of it?" The only right answer is to nod your head, humming desperately and letting him know you're ready, you want it. And who is he to deny that? His pretty girl wants her cunny stretched, why shouldn't he give in and let her have it just how she wants? 

Unlike before he doesn't let you prepare yourself, oh no, the pace went from zero all the way to one hundred in exactly one second. It was like being plowed into, the force of his hips bouncing you off and into the desk. And if you looked horrible and worn out before, you looked twice as bad now. Your sparkly eyes rolling back to make way for the oncoming flow of tears, your entire body trembling with his thrusts.

"Mmph~! Nngh-" Even through the panties he can hear you, muffled and incoherent but still like music to his ears. You take him so well, struggling maybe, but you don't complain for a second about him being too big... and it probably is because your panties are down your throat. But if you really did need him to stop, he is sure you would find another way.

"Feels good, right?" He can't tell if you're nodding or that's just your head moving in sync with his forceful jerks, "Having this little pussy nice and filled... bet you couldn't wait for this the entire match, right?" If you were able to answer, you would be screaming yes from the hills! But instead, you can only stare him in the eyes through the mirror, tears and all, and he can see just how drunk you are on his cock. A pretty whore for him to fuck.

If he had known you were such a perverted slut, so needy to have a dick train you, he would have grabbed you by your cheeky yoga leggings and made you ride his dick while he did bench presses. And seeing you like this? You would have done it without question.

"You're getting all tense, y/n..." His eyes trail down to watch himself disappearing inside of you, and the ripple of your ass smacking his hips, "You gonna cum? This pretty cunt gonna make a mess for me?" You're more than just close to cumming, it's like a fire in the pits of your core, and every pass of his member inside of you has your thighs jumping and twitching, "Yeah, that's it, babe."

Oh, you wish he wouldn't call you that, the things it does to you... and the overwhelming pleasure of his tip plunging into your poor cervix? You feel like you're on the verge of passing out, "Don't look away," He keeps your head straight and makes you look straight ahead at yourself, "Watch yourself cum." You aren't even sure if you have it in you to hold it in long enough to properly look at yourself, let alone the energy to keep your head up.

Your eyes are locked on the mirror, your breath fogging it up with the forceful pants your lungs push out. If you were wearing makeup, you're sure it would be leaving streaks down your cheeks from the tears. They aren't tears of pain, not even close, but rather ones of overstimulation. You aren't sure how much longer you can last, but you don't have time to dwell over it, not when you watch the hand not pinning your waist to the vanity snakes down between your legs.

If the panties weren't in your mouth, you would be protesting and begging him not to. You aren't sure you could handle it! His cock is already tearing your poor cunny in half, his fingers will surely break you. But you can only watch in fear, and anxiously wait for his fingers to meet your throbbing pearl between your legs.

"Mmph~! Mm-" Your nails dig into the desk and back arches to try and get away from his fingers, but Mark doesn't give up, "Mm! Mmm~!" He knows you're protesting, he knows it's too much for your sensitive little cunny. But he wants to see you come undone, to see more of your pretty tears and those sparkly eyes roll back in absolute bliss. And with the vicious pace his fingers inflict on your burning clit, you aren't far from that edge.

"That's it, babe... that's it, I wanna taste this pussy when finish. I bet you taste so sweet, just as sweet as you look right now..." And he isn't lying, you've never looked as stunning as you do right now. No angel could compare to you, nothing. The sweat coating your skin and your juices tainting the apex of your thighs, "I got you, baby-"

He doesn't have the chance to finish his pep talk before he feels you come undone beneath him, your squeals and whimpers completely muffled by your stuffed mouth. Your poor nerves going off of the wall, thighs jumping and nails digging at the wood of the vanity, and your pussy squirting all over his cock and onto your thighs. You're embarrassed by the mess, but to Mark? It is the biggest ego stroker he could have encountered... he got you to squirt.

"Fuck, good girl, good fucking girl..." Mark slows the thrusts, as much as he wants to cum he can see how worn out you are, "Take a deep breath, princess. Just like that," You try your best to do as he asks, but it's so difficult with how quick your climax comes and the panties being in your mouth. You put all of your weight on the vanity, fingers clawing at it as if it could help ease the electricity shooting through every inch of you.

Mark sees you and he thinks he may have been too rough, "Shh, c'mere." The panties are taken from your mouth, saliva soaked into the thin fabric and sticking to your chin, "You okay?" Fingers, although rough and calloused, gently brush over your cheek to gather your tears, he worries he may have forgotten himself somewhere and been too hard on you. 

And your expression, weak and twisted, for a moment makes him feel horrible. What had he done? This was his first time having sex with you, something he has wanted for so long, and he just screwed it up. His eyes watched your every move, lips opening to say something and hesitating for a minute, you were probably pissed at him.

"Y-You..." Little tears prick at your eyes and he panics, "You didn't even cum inside of me, was I not doing enough?" For a moment, silence befalls the both of you other than your pathetic little sniffles. Were you really... that worried over him finishing? Is that really what has you on the verge of crying? If he could, he would eat you up right where you stand in front of him, you're too cute.

Two hands cup your swollen cheeks and bring your face close, "You want me to cum inside of you? That's what you worked up?" You nod your head all while leaning into his hands, "You're so cute, but I think you need to take a break, babe. You're shaking." He can tell you're teetering right at the edge of too much, he fears if he does anymore he may actually hurt you.

"But I want..." He shakes his head and kisses the tip of your nose, "Then... Then I'll suck it off." You won't let up so easily, he just gave you the best climax of your life, and if he thinks you'll let him walk out of this room with blue balls he is more than just wrong. 

Mark wants to argue, he knows you should clean yourself up and you both should get out of here. He isn't even sure what time it is or how long it has been, the fights could very well be over and neither of you has any clue. But what harm can you getting on your knees do? Maybe give you a sore throat, but he is sure with how loud you were, muffled or not, you are already on the train to a strained voice.

"Make it quick, I still wanna take you to dinner." Even after all of this, somehow taking you to dinner may just be the highlight of the night. Sex is great, but for Mark Markit is the intimate, quiet moments that mean the world to him. All those times you would open early or stay late with him, he cherished those memories. Unlike him, you could not care less about dinner or memorable moments or anything, you're far more focused on what his cum might taste like. You've thought of it a million times, and finally, you will be able to know. 

You ease yourself onto your knees in front of him, Mark fixing his pants out of your way and leaning back against the desk as he watches you make yourself comfortable. If he thought you looked beautiful lying underneath him with your knees by your ears, he isn't sure what to call you on your knees. Your gorgeous eyes looking at him through those lashes of yours, tongue dragging out and over your lips.

"Don't hurt yourself, pretty girl... I saw you struggling before when I started picking up the pace." You don't like being talked down to, but you know that's just him trying to get you worked up and you won't let him have that satisfaction. 

All of your weight is put onto your knees as you lean forward, the tip of your warm tongue licking your own cum from his cock, "Be nice to me or I'll use my teeth." He can't argue with that, and he knows you will do it. Your tongue drags over the veins, tracing them carefully, breath hot and fanning over his ready-to-burst member. If he had it his way, he would grab your pretty face and fuck this squishy mouth of yours, but he already pushed it and he wants you to go at your pace now.

"Fuck, that's good... tap it on your tongue for me," You stick out your tongue and do as he says, "Shiiiit, you look so hot right now." You know you do, if anyone could see the hearts in Mark's eyes, it's you... and those hearts are practically jumping out while he watches you rubbing your tongue over his messy dick, doing everything but putting it in your mouth, "C'mon, y/n... please."

"You want me to put it in my mouth?" You feign innocence while looking up at him, giving him puppy eyes and suckling at his tip. Mark nods breathlessly, even so much as adding an extra, needy please to really show you how much he wants it. He was so kind to give you exactly what you want, it would mean not to do the same for him!

Making yourself comfortable, you open your mouth wide enough to fit his tip inside, tasting that sweetness of your juices on your tongue. Is this what heaven feels like? For him to be guiding your mouth on his dick, cooing words of praise every time you successfully ease the tip in your throat without hurting yourself or choking too much.

The two of you see, hear, and know nothing but each other at this moment. Eyes locked together and no sound other than him breathing shakily and the rare pass of your name on his tongue, mixed in with the disgusting wet sounds of your throat stretching over him. You two wouldn't have been able to pick up on the footsteps coming down the hall, or the call of two very familiar names who just so happen to be missing at the same time.

And neither of you would have been prepared for the door to open, let alone, for the one person both of you feared catching you to be standing in the doorway in shock, horror... and Mark locked eyes for just a second, a second that allowed to see the seven layers of hell in your father's eyes, before the door slammed shut and feet moved down the hall faster than you could pull off of Mark's cock. 

"I... I think we should get out of here before he comes back."

#nct dream #kpop smut #nct #nct haechan #haechan hard hours #nct imagines #kpop #haechan #nct dream smut #nct smut #mark lee smut #mark lee #mark smut #mark lee hard hours #nct dream masterlist #nct masterlist #nct 127 #czennie

[sukunas-wife]

Can you do a story where the reader died? And sukuna’s reaction

As Jesus once said “Someone has touched me”

In this case, I was working on “Sealed” when I got hit with this. I refuse to be moved until I finish this ask There's another question similar to it and I wanna do it also but I was inspired after reading an article on a man whose wife died. I was moved, inspired! My heart ached and for that we all need to ache 😔🤍

Inside the temple Sukuna had built himself for your family, it took him years to perfect every room, every arch, every window until he was pleased to bring you here. It was a flat mountain top he had carved using his own technique, it was beautiful, secluded. Far away from the dangers of humans and sorcerers, you had finally convinced him, your soft voice, laying on his chest in the middle of a summer night. Fingers pulling at his robes in a nervous fidget, his arm tucked behind his head the other wrapped around you. One foot hanging off the hammock pushing you both back and forth when you spoke up “Ryomen… what would you say if I said I want to move away from here, from the village, to someone where no one can bother us.” You sat up looking down at him with a smile, his face was straight but his eyes were amused following you, “we could start a family far far away so no one could ever hurt them! We could have a son or a daughter! Or two boys or two girls, or one of each, or if you want three or four I wouldn’t mind but…” you looked around before you looked at him feeling his hand on your side, thumb rubbing slowly against your side, you smiled at him “ I just want a family with you, I life with you.” He closed his eyes letting his head fall back against the cushions you’d brought earlier, “I’ll see what I can do.”

————-

It wasn’t long after Sukuna was levelling a city for pure enjoyment, that he saw a ridge of mountains. He thought of you, coming home to you to tell you that he found the perfect place for you to have your silly little family… he stopped his attack on the city waltzing over to the ridge, he spent weeks away from you, away from his home to perfect the biggest mountain behind the ridge. Levelling it, carving out land to give you a little stream he knew you’d love. Pulling together everything, making the survivors of the village work for their lives bringing him the material to build a home for you. Every time he came home to you he never let a world slip of his endeavours instead he’d hold you close listening to the things you’d done in his absence. Finally months had passed and he woke you up early one morning taking you with him on what he called a very special day. You assumed he would be conquering another city and that he just wanted you by his side. Yawing you leaned against him wanting to just sleep where you stood. Sukuna rolled his eyes supporting your weight before he picked you up entirely, “‘m tired kuna.” He held you tighter against his chest, “I know, we’ll get there soon.”

It was early afternoon when Sukuna made it to your new home. Uraume was behind both of you, Sukuna tried to wake you up only for you to bury your face into his chest. He hummed amused, bouncing you in his arms, “y/n, get up or I’ll drop you.” You groaned trying to get out his grip, he let your legs drop supporting your back as you steadied yourself. Looking up you were blinded by the sunlight, holding up your hand you tried to block out the sun. Sukuna moved you into the shadows and you saw it, the big wooden doors and the white marble walls and pillars. You moved closer up the stairs touching the door pushing it open. You turned around, the big smile on your face and your teary eyes led you to run at Sukuna and jump into his arms. He held you against him letting you cry against his chest and neck, “Ryomen” he was confused why you were crying so loudly. But he held you rubbing his hand on your back. “Ryo…” your whispered cries against his skin made him hold you tighter. He tilted his head pressing his nose to the top of your head, “What’s wrong princess?”

“I need to tell you something,” you let your hands slide down his chest when you slipped from his hold. He held your face in his hands looking down at you, his eyes were searching yours for anything before he leaned in closer his lips ghosting yours, “Tell me.” You did your best to smile “I’m pregnant.” Your smile dropped when you saw the way he looked at you, eyes wide and his mouth was open just slightly, his forehead met yours and he closed his eyes. His hands slid down to your sides, he squeezed you slightly, you brought your hands up to his face wiping the stray tears away with your thumbs, you laughed lightly “Ryo…”

————-

“Y/n, cmon.” Sukuna tried to pull you out of bed, your body was weak as you tried your best to get up. Sukuna ended up dragging you with him to get you into a chair. He was scared shitless, ever since the bump in your stomach started to show you looked pale, weak. You couldn’t walk on your own and you slept more.

He’d take you out to the sun to sit in the grass by the stream. Your trembling fingers picking flowers talking to Sukuna about how you couldn’t wait for your child to see these beautiful flowers. Your tears had found a permanent place in your eyes, never falling but always present. Leaning against him, you never saw how he’d dig his hand into the dirt trying to get a grip of life, his reverse cursed technique no matter how often he tried to help it never really helped. You didn't need Jujutsu healing, you needed human help.

He felt hopeless but he decided even if he had to hand carry you over those mountains he would do it. That night he bundled you up in a blanket laying you on the bed. He told Uraume to pack anything they would need, that night when you were asleep he picked you up bridal style the way he carried you into your house he carried you out. He held you close, never letting you shake, making sure you never felt cold. He did his best taking a worn path that went around the mountain ridges. It would be days before you made it to the city, but he held on tight, looking at your face, how your eyes would just barely open to see him, that faint smile on your lips, the tears in your eyes finally falling. When you told him you were sorry, he was enraged it wasn’t your fault, his throat was tight and he fought back the tears in his eyes. Chest shaking when you fell asleep that night in his arms, he refused to rest pushing forward for the third day. It was sunrise when he found an opening by a river, he settled down helping you sit on a large flat stone. Your hand came up to touch his face, he closed his eyes feeling your cold fingers rub the dark circles under his eyes. He brushed the back of his hand over your cheek before brushing stray hairs back out of your face. He dropped to his knees pressing his head against your stomach, he could still hear the heartbeat. You guided his face up, kissing him and telling him, “You’ll be okay Sukuna, let’s just go for a short walk please.”

He helped you up, both of you moving slowly up the beaten path to the top of a hill. There was a willow tree and stone around Sukuna’s height at a pool of water that trickled down the hill side. You moved closer to it, “look you can see our home from here.” You leaned against him and he held you tight in his side, “Our home.” His chest had that same ache and sickness when your breathing evened out and eventually stopped. He slowly felt your bodily slipping in his hold, the tears forming in his eyes as he slumped to the ground holding your body. You were just coming near 4 months, there was no doubt in his mind it wouldn’t make it even if he had the heart to pull him out. He slowly folded over, hugging your body while he trembled. His eyes were forced closed, jaw clenched and tears started to fall, he started to scream, a raw horrifying scream that scratched his throat and vocal cords. His nails pressed into your skin when he took in air and let out another scream Uraume was standing a ways off head bowed, his open eyes staring at the ground, Sukuna was emitting emotions of distress so strongly he could feel them resonating inside himself. His Lord's screams were desperate, full of angst and rage. He watched how his Lord’s face changed, how the cursed presence around him became far more intense. He watched Sukuna lay your body down carefully tucking your hair away. His hand running over your stomach, that was the last time he ever saw Lord Sukuna look at any woman without malice, without annoyance, without intent to kill.

He watched as lord Sukuna was quick to take his anger out on the mountain ridges that separated you from the city, IT SEPARATED YOU FROM THE CITY, IT WAS THAT DAMN HOUSE HE BUILT ON THAT MOUNTAIN IT WAS THE FAMILY YOU WANTED IT WAS HIS CHILD THAT KILLED YOU IT WAS HIS HANDS THAT BROUGHT YOU YO YOUR END IN THE END

He was screaming and tearing the world to its core, he levelled the city that night he levelled the entire mountain ridge. The beauty of this forsaken land wouldn’t be allowed to exist if it took your life. The land was left in shambles and the city was in fear they would be next when they saw his hulking figure standing on the hill where he left your body staring down at them. It was an elderly woman who tried to approach before Uraume stepped in threatening to end her for getting too close. She saw how Sukuna held your body against him, your stomach bump was evident in your robes. He sat back against the stone, the old lady didn’t leave. She watched how Sukuna cradled you, a hand never leaving your stomach, he looked dead, he was tired, his hands were bleeding.

“It happens all the time, people die travelling to get around those mountains looking for some form of help. There is no consolation for death, you’ll only ever mourn when you think of her young man. But if you do love her, remember her in every instance even if it brings you pain. You don’t know this but in one day you’ll have managed to save more generations to come by levelling those forsaken mountains. What’s beauty at the price of death?”

Sukuna never looked at her, he sighed. He sat there for days. Sending Uraume in his way to the temple, the old lady never returned. He buried you under that willow tree. And he carved your figure into that stone opening the water way so the trickled became a waterfall, in your stone arms he made sure there was a bundle hugged to your chest. He stood under that tree the droplets of water running down his face from the vines mixing in with the tears that fell from his face, void of emotion he truly had nothing left. He went without eating, every time Uraume would urge him to head he’d say he wouldn’t eat without you he’d rather starve. Inside your broken him he sat in the same chair slouched staring at the fireplace in your shared room. His fingertips tingling at the memory of tracing your skin when you’d sit on his lap hugging him whispering your plans to the future. When he walked the cold halls he saw everything you’d used to decorate. The wilted Sakura branches you put in a vase long ago now dry twigs in vases. The flowers outside being overtaken by weeds, it made him sick seeing the nursery you had persistently decorated even in your frail state.

He never starved to death because that day he had become a full fledged curse he ripped out his heart burying it in your chest when he buried you. You were the holder of his heart, the only, and you would only ever be the only one.

————-

Centuries had passed when Sukuna found himself reincarnated in the iconic teenage boy Yuji Itadori. He materialised on his cheek to insult the boy for stating a young woman for too long. “Hey brat do you really think staring a woman like that…” until he saw her, his voice went quiet. Eyes wide mouth agape, if we’re in control he’d have run over to see if it was you. It was almost an exact copy of you, that same damn smile that made him slip into madness all those years ago, those eyes that held a light even in death. But her scent, there was a hint of your sweet scent but it was almost non existent, she had to be a descendant of your family. Aside from that hint she smelled putrid like every other human. Every memory of the years you spent with him, he thought to himself ‘she reminds me of better times when you were alive…’ he quickly disappeared from Itadori's cheek, leaving the boy puzzled. There he sat on his throne, slumped, head resting against his fist, one leg kicked out the other resting normally. His face was void of emotion, except for the single tear his free hand caught with his pointed nail, “After all this time it’s you who haunts me hm?” He let out a dry laugh, the stray tear clinging to the tip of his nail, watching before it dropped over his chest where he had so brutally ripped out his own heart.

Permanent! Tags: @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @simpforyoubitch @domainofmarie @dolliira @ilovemybabies378

#sukunas wife #sukunas wife speaks #sukuna ryomen #daddy sukuna #jjk anime #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #🤍mail time #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader angst #Sukuna x reader hurt #true form sukuna x reader #true form sukuna #sukuna x wife reader #sukuna x you #sukunas wife’s ask #dadkuna #soft sukuna #sukunation #Sukuna nation #sukuna thirst #yuji and mom reader #yuji x mom reader #son yuji #jjk sukuna ryomen #jjk ryomen sukuna #jjk asks #jjk angst

[adaelines]

monster!konig w a breeding kink EEE MAKES ME FERAL

i am a slut. a whore. i blacked out in the heat and this was written. please enjoy! warnings: afab but gender neutral reader, monster konig, monster cock, he wants to breed you so bad!! you're reffered to as his mate, hes Big. Bigger than normal.

Keep Still.

Echoed in your mind like a voice whispered in the dark, the large and heavy presence pressing against your back making himself known, demanding your attention. Being mated to an eldritch being was anything but normal, König adored you and made it clear in everything he did, in every little click and purr against your neck. 

Pressing you down into the nest he had made for you, he grumbles against your neck, tentacles moving to take a hold of your face. He was so gentle, every touch and caress made with the uttermost love and reverence, it was obvious just how much he loved you. This being, powerful enough to end worlds and destroy men without an inch of effort, was so in love with you, so gentle and loving, and he did his best to prove it to you. 

He wanted you forever, wanted you to have his clutch and stay with him, through anything for as long as time itself will exist. It was staggering, and you wouldn't change it for the world, not when the big man you love would do anything to keep you happy.

Stay.

He spoke in your mind, voice low and heavy. He always did this, in your moments together alone, spoke to you directly in your mind instead of using his voice.

It was so intimate, having him this close, having him inside of your mind, quite literally. You always thought of him anyway, your thoughts full of nothing but your love, but having him invade you like this was different. 

Not bad, at all, just… new.

The tentacles on your face continued to caress you, to hold you against him and feel across your skin as if he was committing you to memory, like he was worshipping you and admiring you entirely. 

Slowly, carefully, one tentacle moved. Down your face, taking in every small detail, before pressing against your lips. His hands came up, moving your hair out of your face, his own head pressing against the back of yours. You could hear him close, all the low growls and purrs straight from his chest, only increasing when he slowly pressed into your mouth. 

A kiss between two lovers. Your lips spread wide, eyes fluttering shut, the deep blue, very near black, tentacle pressing deeper. It was comforting, the heavy weight of him against your tongue. He knew you well, knew exactly how much to push you before it became too much, how much you could take before it was uncomfortable. 

Pretty little thing.

Lower this time, voice almost distorted. You were already having an effect on him. Already causing him to lose his sharp edge.

You muttered his name in reverence, worshipping the tentacle in your mouth as if it was his cock, treating it the same. One hand moving up to gently hold his, so much bigger than yours, so easily encasing the entirety of yours, as your other moved lower, grabbing his hip the best you could to pull him into you, deeper, closer.

He, in return, buried his face into the back of your neck, his low noises of affection only doubling at your touch, only growing louder at your returned attention.

You could feel him everywhere, all around you, inside your mind. He wrecked you with a simple move of his tentacles, the way he pushed himself to the forefront of your mind. 

His cock, however, was the only thing you could truly focus on. Hard against your thigh, he was absolutely massive. In his human form, rarely taken around you, he was always big. But like this? Behind you, pinning you to the nest, in the form that was entirely him, trying to describe just how big he was seemed impossible. It always took a while for him to prepare you, to ready you to take him whole, and he never complained. He felt true pleasure in giving, when it came to you.

"König," Muttered around the tentacle, your hands tightening where they held him. A silent plea, a beg for him to give you more, to touch and take anything he wanted. 

A low growl rumbled in his chest, an agreement. He was slow in his movements, hands trailing down your sides, worshipping you in the simple touch. He took his time, admiring, feeling you beneath him. You were naked, as you always were in your shared nest, and you muttered thanks to whatever God there was for it.

No God. Just me.

His hands reached your hips, finally, and you heard the clicks he let out in approval. You were already so wet, almost soaking the material below you, and he could smell it. 

"C'mon, König…" You muttered once more, gently pulling away from the tentacle in your mouth, pressing one more kiss to the almost slimy skin at König's low growl, "Need you to breed me already…"

You felt him press his version of a kiss between the back of your shoulder blades, resting his head there as he moved his fingers to your hole.

Wet. Already? Whore.

His grin widened against your skin, and you could feel it, his big, sharp teeth against your soft skin. All he'd have to do is widen his jaw slightly to break skin, it would be so easy for him. His teeth are as inhuman as the rest of him, as terrifyingly different. Not to you, anyway, not anymore. You know him, love him, nothing about him is scary now.

It doesn't change the butterflies you feel in your stomach, though. The sickly twist would normally be unwelcome, with anyone else. Not with König, though, never with König.

The whine that leaves you is loud, as his hands move to hold your thighs apart. The burn as your thighs reach as far apart as they will go feels good. A promise of what's to come, of what he's about to do to you. 

Ready, yes?

König, the loving monster he was, had spent most of the day that had already passed simply preparing you. Getting you ready to take as much as your smaller body would handle, as deep as he could go without causing you any pain. He would never want that. He's a smart man, knows when to hit and when to kiss, and right now, with you about to take his seed, his brood, he wants to kiss every inch of you.

With your muttered assurance, kisses pressed to the tentacles beside your face, he purrs against your back once more. You would often compare him to a cat, the way he would completely pin you to the nest with his body, purring against you. 

All thought was lost to you when he moved, pressing his face into your skin, pushing his cock inside of you. Slowly, carefully, once more. His cock was larger than a humans, and different. More like his tentacles, a lighter shade of blue, a lot shorter than the rest but so much more thicker. It dripped more, too, the rest of his tentacles were covered in a viscous liquid, most similar to slime, but none of them leaked the way his cock did. 

Especially not when inside of you. Your cunt tight and warm around him, he couldn't help himself, couldn't help the amount he spilled inside of you, pressing his teeth lightly against the skin of your back.

Good. Pretty, take it, please, take it.

The voice in your head was no longer confident, loud, no longer put together and self assured. He was whining, almost, a husky edge to his low words. Being inside of you, even for the short moment, was enough to reduce him to this. You reduced the monster of a god, an eldritch being who considered you his mate, to nothing more than man begging to breed you.

Deep inside of you, his cock twitched, squirmed, and pressed against every spot that it could. He wanted to make you feel good, wanted to make you cum over and over on his cock, till you couldn’t think of anything but him inside of you, the both of you wet and loud. Everytime he pressed his hips forward, into you as much as he physically could, the noise that it made was lecherous. You were already wet, the hours of prep made sure of it, added with the liquid from his cock inside of you, every thrust of his hips, no matter how small, made a squelch.

It doesn’t take long for him to cum, having spent so many hours teasing and pleasuring you, it doesn’t take you long either. He reaches his peak with a guttural sound, low and inhumane, his hips pressed flush against yours. It makes his cock reach even deeper, pressing against you in a way that was almost painful, but it was easily enough for you to cum as well. 

His cum was thick, vicious inside of you. He never moved from his position behind you, hips flush, not even when the cum spilled out from beside his cock. Letting out low rumbles intended to calm you, to comfort you, you once again hear his voice.

Need it to take. Ready for more, yes?

#konig x reader #konig smut #konig cod #konig #konig x you #cod konig #cod x reader #cod smut #cod #call of duty smut #call of duty x reader #call of duty #modern warfare #modern warfare smut #call of duty x you

[blue-slxt]

Imagine petite!human reader literally being used as a living fleshlight😩

Like she’s so small she can just be lifted off the ground and pounded🥴

Honestly don’t even care who it’s written for feels like a Jake, lo’ak, or quaritch kinda senecio

Sincerely, a no where near petite girlie

Thank you so much for your patience. I've been working on like a million different things at the same time so I am so behind on requests. But I looove this idea. Something about just being manhandled however your partner wants you to be is so fucking aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhhh😩! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this.

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

Smut under the cut.

“Make sure you don’t break my bed with your big ass.” You playfully scold Lo’ak while pulling on your spaghetti strap shirt. He flops his entire body weight onto your bed making it creak. It was times like this when you really took note of just how big of a size difference there was between you. Of course, the Na’vi were much bigger than average humans already, but you were even on the small side for humans. Watching how his body can’t fit properly on your bed while you could be swallowed whole by your sheets and blankets never ceased to amaze you. He waves you off with a ‘yeah, yeah’ while he makes himself comfortable putting his hands under his head. You roll your eyes at him and start to search through all the DVDs you have for something for you two to watch.

“What are you in the mood for this time? Something funny? Romantic? Dramatic?” you fire off the different genres as you toss aside disc after disc.

“Hmm…” he dramatically hums thinking about his answer.

You don’t bother to look at him while he mulls it over and you continue searching. You faintly comprehend the sound of him shuffling and moving around behind you, but you pay it no mind until a pair of big hands find their way on your small frame. Lo’ak’s lips brush lightly over the back of your neck and it almost tickles when he speaks.

“I think I’m in the mood for something sexy” he presses kisses onto your neck and shoulder.

“You are so corny” you say with a laugh, but you still lean into his touch anyway.

“Just put on whatever. I’d rather watch you anyway.” His low voice in your ear makes your nerves come alive with this intense fluttering all over your body. His impatience is rubbing off on you so you hurriedly throw whatever you can reach into the player without really bothering to look at what it is. Once the movie starts playing, you turn around to face Lo’ak and he immediately swipes you up off the floor and your legs lock around his waist while he presses his lips to yours. Holding onto him like this gives you the perfect feel of his cock straining against his tewng and poking you right between your legs. Clearly, he can feel it too from how his hands hold your hips and grind you down against him. Every move brushes against your covered clit and gives you small tingles of satisfaction, but it’s not enough. He’s got you so riled up now that you decide to have a little more fun and push his limits. On any given day, Lo’ak could, and would, fuck you until your body felt like jelly. But on occasion, he would lose himself and by the end, even your brain would feel numb and fuzzy filled with nothing but him possessing you completely. That’s exactly what you need right now.

Without warning, you unfold your legs from around him and let go completely dropping to your feet on the ground. His puzzled expression is nothing short of adorable.

“Shit, I just remembered that I have a report to finish” you say walking over to your computer desk and sitting down.

“Babe, you have got to be kidding me right now.” You were never one to deny Lo’ak what he asked for. Ever. Not even when you would join the clan for communal dinner and he would pull you off into the dark out of view of everyone else.

“It’s only going to take a few minutes, Lo.” You say sitting down and pulling your hair forward and exposing your neck. Lo’ak groans behind you. You know how much he loves when you present your neck for him to mark. He’s starting to catch on to your little game. If he wants it, he’s going to have to take it.

“If it’s only going to take a couple minutes, then do it after” he says pulling your chair away from your desk and over to the bed. He spins you around to face him and heat settles between your thighs at the way he’s eyeing you right now. “I need you, mamas.”

“You’re doing a whole lot of talking and yet, I’m still fully clothed” you say with a sly smirk.

He chuckles lowly to himself, “oh, you are asking for it.” In one swift motion, Lo’ak pulls you onto his lap by your waist. Your hands brace against his chest to keep yourself from flying forward. His face settles in the crook of your neck and he nips lightly at your skin making you jump.

“Now, am I going to have to rip these cute little shorts off of you or are you gonna behave and take them off yourself?”

“Don’t…I like these ones.” You whine.

“Then get rid of them. Right now.”

You shift yourself around so that you can maneuver out of your shorts while he pulls his tewng to the side to expose his thick, hard cock that was already leaking precum from the tip.

“Already so hard, love. Is that for m—”

“Don’t try to get cute with me” Lo’ak cuts you off by grabbing you by your waist and slamming you down onto his dick in one quick snap.

It feels like an electric shock is shot up your spine and goes straight to your head being immediately filled to the brim. He gives you no time to adjust before he’s fully lifting your body by your waist up and down on his cock.

“Ah! Fu-ck! Lo-ak!” Your words and breaths are broken from how he’s making you bounce on top of him.  

“Shit, your pussy is so fuckin perfect” he says through gritted teeth.

His big hands on your smaller frame completely take control of your movements and you have no choice but to let him have his way with you. His dick continues to bully its way into your tight cunt and kiss your cervix making your toes curl.

“Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum inside of you, mama. You want that, hm? Want me to fill you up?” his voice is lighthearted, but you can tell from the look in his eyes and his laser focus on you how close he really is and how badly he wants to give you everything.

“Yes, yes, yes, please Lo’ak!” your vision is already starting to spot as you near your own high while he keeps using you as his own personal fuck toy.

“Hng, shit!” he bucks his hips up to match the way he’s moving your body for you a few more times before the heat of his cum starts to fill you from the inside out. It sends you over the edge into your own orgasm and your pussy clamps down on him even tighter if that was even possible. Lo’ak sucks in a sharp breath feeling how tight you are around him and his forehead falls forward onto your chest waiting for you to stop milking him for all he’s worth.

His hands finally let go of your waist and they fall to sit on top of your thighs while you both try to catch your breath.

Suddenly the TV booms from across the room, “I am Bruce Almighty! My will be done!” making both of you snap your head in its direction.

“What the fuck movie did you put on?” Lo’ak laughs breathlessly.

“I have no fucking clue and I kind of don’t really care” you laugh equally out of breath. “But it looks like we still have some time before it’s over…” you lightly suggest.

He already knows what’s on your mind and a devilish smirk crosses his face.

#blue babbles #thanks anon! #thanks for the ask! #avatar #avatar the way of water #awow #avatar fic #loak sully #lo'ak #loak #lo’ak #avatar loak #loak x reader #loak fanfiction #atwow loak #loak smut #avatar smut

[shallyouobeyme]

Fortune

Platonic Yander Malfoy!Family x Dragon!reader (GN)

Summary: A long time ago there lived a species of dragon-hybrids with magical gifts. You - one of these hybrids - had the gift of bringing good fortune to whoever was close to you, but as you'd soon learn, using your gift to help others would only endanger you...

! Minors do not interact !

TW: Not Canon Complainant about the Malfoy's backstory, imprisonment, manipulation, kidnapping, infantilisation (kinda), I do not condone this - this is all fiction

One or two Centuries ago, when muggles still believed in magic and fantastical creatures roamed the earth almost freely, many more kinds of species lived in nature. Some of them were closely related to creatures still on this planet in the present. One example of such a case was a kind of dragon that had long since left the face of the earth, one that shared many similarities with the humans around it. In fact, these dragons had the ability to shift from their full dragon form to that of a bipedal, humanoid dragon-person hybrid. Further than their ability to shift though was their ability to innately use magic.

Now, their abilities were not like the abilities of wizards and witches who could put their magic into words and gestures, using their magic as a medium to achieve many different goals. Instead, they tended to be born with a specific magical talent that differed from case to case - some could control different elements (since these dragons did not naturally have the ability to breathe fire or water), some could communicate with nature, some changed the weather, and others could use their scales to make themselves invisible to any living and dead being.

One of these dragons, still a young fetchling when this story began had a rare and sought-after ability - the ability to attract fortune. Something every dragon with a knack for hoarding (so almost all) would kill for, which was why the little dragon-hybrid was told from a very young age to keep hidden from creatures that would use them and their powers for their own gain. This young dragon was you - and often, when you now fell asleep, you still dreamt of the night that would turn out to be the one to doom your entire life.

You had barely just started to fly without your parent's supervision and after being kept at home for your entire (short) life in hopes that no one would try to use you, your curiosity for real life and everything beyond the mountain you called home grew restless. So you did what any curious child with the ability to fly would do and you took off to where you knew the nearest village to be. You landed a few miles away from it, well aware that your parents would be furious beyond belief if you went into town and let your existence be known to humans. After all, your parents always did make a point of mentioning just how greedy and selfish humans tended to be.

You were a fool to not believe them. You were in your humanoid form - comparable with a human child of about eight or nine years - as you stepped into a clearing. The sound of sobbing echoed through the trees around you and your eyes fell onto a form hunched onto the floor in sobs. They looked similar to you, but a lot smoother, and without any horns or wings protruding out of their back. Honestly, they looked really strange, but your parents had described something similar to what you were seeing and they had said that these smooth wingless things were humans. Obviously, you were intrigued.

"Why are you crying?" you asked in your young, squeaky voice and the human jumped up, turning to look at you in shock. Their eyes widened even further at your appearance, but they seemed too shaken to properly realize what was going on.

"You-You're a - You're a dragon?" they finally stuttered out, their tears long forgotten. You couldn't help but giggle, of course, you were a dragon, what else were you supposed to be?

"Yes I am, and you're a human, right?" you asked and they only responded by nodding, "then why were you crying, human?"

"I-" They seemed to question their reality for a second, probably wondering if they should tell a random little dragon-hybrid their sorrows, but they responded nonetheless, "My mother... She's very ill and I don't have the money to buy the medicine she needs, I fear that she'll pass away soon and then I will be all alone in the world."

As their tears build up again, you feel yourself sympathize with the human. Sure, you had your parents, but they were travelling all of the time, leaving you to your own devices and even your siblings had been allowed to leave the nest and make a way of their own, it was just you who was kept alone in the cave under the pretence of protection. So you very well knew how it felt to be alone, to be lonely. And so you knew that if you could do something against someone else feeling like that, then you would.

"I can help you!" you exclaimed excitedly at the thought of doing something good.

"What? How?" the human - you decided that if humans were at all similar to your own kin then they must have been a man - asked, completely perplexed as you walked towards him, stopping just a step away.

"It's my gift, I can bring fortune to people, I can help you make the money you need for the medicine," you were smiling brightly now, but the human still seemed confused. 'How,' he just asked and you told him to kneel down. Usually, your presence alone was enough to attract riches and riches beyond most people's dreams, but you knew that if you wanted to help someone attract fortune without being near them, you had to use a different tactic. And so, once the man had knelt down, you pressed a kiss to his forehead and a shimmer of silver light sparkled over his face - the same silver of your scales.

After that you left for home, but before you could take off the human called out to you: "What's your name? Will I see you again?"

"I'm Y/N - and I don't know, I hope so," you responded as you took flight and the last thing they shouted to you before the distance was too large to hear them was that their name was Layton Malfoy.

After that, you used every chance you had to fly to that clearing where Layton was usually already waiting for you - he'd tell you all these amazing stories of his life and he'd entertain you, trying to be your best friend. At least you thought that was all he wanted. What you didn't realize was that slowly but surely he was trying to keep you by his side longer and longer, always finding another reason as to why you should stay, telling you how your parents were using you, about how they weren't these amazing dragons that you thought them to be. And maybe because you were just a lonely child who was just desperate for the attention or maybe because Layton was your first friend and you didn't believe friends would lie to each other, you believed him. And so after he kept telling you all these things about how he was the one who would actually protect you, about how he'd finally let you live a normal life, you left the clearing with him towards his home town - thinking about how you'd return home one day and tell your parents about how wrong they were about humans and about all the great things you lived through.

You never returned home though, in fact, you never saw your parents again. Decades later - you were now comparable to a human teenager - Layton's grandchildren had told you that the dragon-hybrids had been declared extinct after they had been hunted for their powers and their horns. The Malfoy heir told you that he was so happy that his grandfather had 'taken you in' and how the entire family just felt thankful that you hadn't been hunted as well. He elected to ignore the fact that you were shackled to a wall in a secret Cellar below their large estate - possible only because they had you locked away to attract them money,.

After finding out about the cruel fate of your kin, you shifted into your dragon form attempting to not give the Malfoy any sense of result by responding to them or even just paying attention to them. You rolled into yourself, closed your eyes and stopped things but eat, drink and sleep. No matter how often the ever-evolving generations of Malfoys tried to get you to interact with them, you just stayed silent. Honestly, you were surprised that after decades of silence, they still tried to talk to you - wasn't your presence in their cellar enough? You were still attracting fortune for them, what more did they want? Over the years they tried to get you out of your shell by decorating your cellar with numerous pillows and blankets and things that dragons loved in their hord. Your Chamber probably had more money, jewels and riches in it than their bank account. And yet, as much as you secretly appreciated your new horde, you stayed silent.

At least until a new Malfoy was born and old enough to come down to you on his own. Lucius was just a child when he saw you for the first time lying curled into yourself in your pile of riches and pillows and blankets, but even he could see the sadness in your form. And so he tried to talk to you, but like his parents and grandparents had told him, the dragon in their cellar did not talk. But he didn't stop, he told you about how he thought the family had enough money already, about how he thought they should let you free and how you'd be able to breathe fresh air again once he became the patriarch of the family. Maybe it was the earnestness in his voice or the fact that he reminded you of yourself when you were a hatchling, still trusting in the world around you, but you caved and you shifted for the first time in what must have been over 100 years.

It was safe to say Lucius was ecstatic and the two of you soon became close. You talked to him and him only, and he enjoyed it immensely. He tried to spend as much time as possible down with you and was so close to you that you actually let him nap with you in your horde (he always got to lie on the parts with lots of pillows and blankets, because you knew humans were a lot more sensitive than you). And as he grew older you tried to remind him of his promise and at first he agreed, but the older he grew the more unsure he seemed. Still, he agreed - probably knowing that you'd stop your friendship with him once you realized that he didn't intend to keep his promise anymore.

It was only once he came down, dressed all in black, now an adult with his own child, telling you that his father Abraxas had passed because of a case of Dragon Pox - a cruel wink of fate as you couldn't help but think - that you excitedly ran towards the bars of your cage, believing that you'd finally be let out of this horrible prison. Only that Lucius didn't open the door. 'Why?' you asked him, silver streaks of tears streaming down your cheeks, 'Don't you have enough Fortune? Is the money really worth it?'.

"It was never about the money, at least not for me if it was just that I would let you go in a heartbeat, but I know that the second I let you out you'll be gone. You'll leave me behind, here without you, and I don't think I can do that Y/N. I need to know that you're here, safe, where I always know you're well cared for. I hope one day you'll be able to forgive me - even if I'm not there to experience it."

That was the day you realized that Lucius and Narcissa - and after his son Draco as well - would never let you go. They did try to make your living 'situation' more comfortable, changing out the bars to your cave with an actual door after putting enough spells on you to keep you from ever leaving the premises of their mansion, keeping you from kind of violence against them and keeping alerting them should you ever be in any kind of distress or danger. Soon they had integrated you into their everyday life, treating you like a child to be protected and not like you've had lived longer than they could ever imagine. Even Draco - who grew up with you as a constant in his life - developed the same sense of protectiveness that his parents had, as if he wasn't a literal child, and when it was time for him to leave for Hogwarts he insisted you writing him at least once a week, because otherwise he was sure he'd go insane with worry (at least that was what he said).

And so, while for a few decades, you had actually thought freedom was close, you soon realized that you had just switched one prison against a slightly more glamorous one - and it seemed that as long as there were Malfoys, you'd never be able to escape it.

A/N: This is based on another great idea by @sol565 so I wanna give them a big thanks and a big shoutout ❤️❤️❤️

#yandere #writetober #x reader #dark content #tw: yandere #platonic yandere #tw: kidnapping #platonic #yandere harry potter #yandere malfoy family #yandere lucius malfoy #yandere draco malfoy #harry potter x reader #draco malfoy x reader #lucius malfoy x reader #platonic yandere harry potter #platonic yandere mafloy #hogwarts x reader #platonix yandere hogwarts #dragon!reader #tw: imprissonment #narcissa malfoy

[dragon-ascent]

Hope you don’t mind me rambling about an add-on to that idea of Zhongli’s luxury cave but like in the same vein of that imagine if in an AU where it’s ancient times (When Morax/Rex Lapis was worshipped as a god but way before Liyue Harbour was a thing) you somehow stumble upon that very cave, maybe you were trying to find shelter away from the cold, maybe you were being chased by monsters and just dived into the first hiding spot you saw, or maybe you just somehow got innocently lost and walked in, either way you’re now in this cave that is both gorgeous and somehow way ahead of its time and you’re blown away but also oh so very confused because “What the hell is all this stuff doing here???”. Oh also your dragon god REX FRIGGIN LAPIS is just in that cave and you have to face that too (most wild meet cute of all time lmao)

I don’t mind in the slightest! I’ll happily snowball this idea:

When you enter that cave, what throws you off is not just the sheer splendour of it, decorated with fine wares so eccentrically placed, but also the fact that there seem to be some kind of patterns along the walls. People around a fire, people working at the fields, people making use of the wheel for the first time…

“Do you like them?” a voice rumbles from the shadows, causing you to jump — and then nearly jump out of your skin entirely when you see that it’s Rex Lapis asking you the question, emerging from the darkness in all his draconic glory.

You immediately fall to your knees, scrambling for words. “My lord..! I didn’t mean to..!”

“Please rise.” He nudges you gently. “Forgive me if my sudden appearance has startled you.”

Gulping, you get to your feet quickly. “No, no. I…um, had gotten lost.” Fidgeting, you add, “Th-this is a beautiful cave.”

The god purrs in satisfaction. “Thank you. I have personally procured and arranged everything you see here, and those inscriptions on the walls are my doing as well.”

Before you know it, he’s taking you on a tour of the place, a story for each and every thing present within this cave. Honestly, it’s all in one ear and out the other for you – you’re more preoccupied with the thought that you’re in a secluded place with the god of your land.

“Ah, but I have gone on for far too long,” he finishes after what seems like an eternity, his gait a little more prideful after his stories. “I should be taking you home now.”

“You – you know where I live?”

“I have impeccable memory, little one. I remember where each and every human takes up residence.” He looks out the cave mouth, and you follow his gaze to the rising moon. “But it is quite late; I insist you spend the night here, and I shall have you home when dawn breaks.”

Who are you to refuse your god when he’s already placing you on his makeshift flower-woven bed? He uses his mouth to tuck you in, careful not to let his teeth hurt you. Then, he curls up around you. You look up at him, and he gives you a small nod, putting out the beautiful golden torches.

“Sleep. I shall watch over you.”

(He literally watches over you all night. Two glowing eyes just staring at you in the darkness like a figment of horror.)

#sini writes #zhongli #genshin impact #zhongli x reader #fluff #dragon #rex lapis

[theres-a-body-here]

Scumtober- Day 10 (Knotting)

Legoshi x Male!reader

If someone had told you at the beginning of your relationship with Legoshi that he would be the one to initiate sex, you probably would have laughed in their face.

So imagine your surprise when, after a particularly amazing date, Legoshi proposed that the two of you have sex the next night.

You didn't know what to expect. You're a virgin and as far as you know, he was too. To be honest, you were scared. You took enough biology to know that wolf knot plus a human ass would definitely mean pain. That's not even taking into consideration that Legoshi was way taller than wolves of his own species.

But you had time to prepare, so you did.

You followed every tutorial on Furrchan and Beastube, especially that one gay dude who Nair'd his ass on video and posted it onto the site. He seemed like the expert to go to. You went out shopping and frantically bought everything you might need for such a challenge. Lube, condoms, douche, and information pamphlets went into your cart.

You currently sat on Legoshi's bed bunk, waiting for him to arrive. You had showered, cleaned yourself out, and even used the shampoo that Legoshi liked. Everything had to go perfectly. You even had some soft music playing through a small speaker.

As you waited anxiously, the atmosphere in the room seemed to thicken with anticipation. Every sound that echoed down the hallway amplified your heartbeat just a little more, making each moment feel like an eternity.

Finally, after what felt like hours, there was a gentle knock on the door followed by its slow creak open. In walked Legosi, looking quite flustered as nervously walked over and sat on the bed with you.

"So…uhh," You muttered, not sure how to initiate sex. You were in the dark about these kinds of things.

At your hesitation, Legoshi's eyes darted around nervously before returning to meet yours halfway. He swallowed hard, taking a deep breath as he tried to find the words within him. His cheeks flushed under his fur even deeper at his own embarrassment.

Finally, he managed to squeak out softly, "Um... do you want me to undress first?" It was clear from his voice that this was foreign territory for him too; there was an uncertainty lacing every syllable.

You pause for a moment, trying to remember the pamphlet about healthy sexual relationships. "What if.....what if we help remove each other's clothes?" You finally manage to recite meekly as you fiddled with your thumbs.

At your suggestion, Legosi's eyes lit up slightly as he nodded eagerly. "Yeah," he murmured softly, "that sounds good."

With a snail's pace, he began reaching out to gently grab hold of your shirt hem. With a hesitant look in his eyes, he began to tug lightly, urging you to move closer so he could pull it off properly without letting go entirely. As he did so, he took note of your reaction—whether you were uncomfortable or enjoying the contact between them. You nod timidly and lift your arms up.

As soon as Legosi felt your permission through your lifted arms, he quickly grasped onto the idea and began pulling your shirt upwards with newfound confidence. His fingers brushing against your skin sent shivers down your spine. Once fully off, Legoshi started at your bare torso. He shifted closer as if wanting to take in the sight.

As Legoshi moved closer, his hot breath danced along your neck sending shivers down your spine. He couldn't resist taking in your scent, trying to commit it to memory forever. The way his nose grazed against your skin ignited a spark inside him, awakening primal desires that he didn't know existed until now. His heart raced faster as adrenaline coursed through his veins—this was intoxicating!

This set the pattern.

One of you would take off the other's article of clothing, then stare at their body. As the two of you progressively shed layers of clothing, the air between you became charged with electricity. Every brush of fingers against skin sent ripples of pleasure through your bodies. Even though you were both nervous and unsure, something about this exchange felt right.

Finally sitting face to face in nothing but their underwear, Legoshi couldn't tear his gaze away from you. He traced delicate patterns over your chest with his fingertips, marveling at how soft your skin felt beneath them. Meanwhile, you reached out to feel his soft fur.

Both of you blushed deeply as you realized where this was heading. Neither of you wanted to make the first move, fearful of crossing boundaries or being rejected. But despite your hesitations, neither could bring themselves to break eye contact either.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Legoshi reached out towards your boxers, his fingers trembling slightly as they hovered just above the fabric. With bated breath, he slowly pulled down the waistband of your boxers, revealing your erect cock beneath. Your member twitched slightly at the sensation of cool air bathing it. After a few minutes of Legoshi staring in awe at your dick, You decide to return the favor and pull his briefs off.

As you pulled Legoshi's underwear off, exposing his hardened cock tentatively, he let out a soft moan of relief. Feeling increasingly bold, he reached out to touch your cock once again, stroking it slowly with his palm while looking into your eyes for any sign of discomfort.

Taking courage from his touch, you leaned in close, wrapping one arm around him to pull him close for a kiss. Your lips met in a tender kiss as your bodies pressed flush together. Your tongues tentatively explored each other's mouths as you began grinding your hips together in sync, rubbing your cocks against each other.

You shifted to lay in the bed. Legoshi didn't stop kissing you as he followed your movements. Fortunately, you had prepared for the next part since you didn't want to waste precious time. You had already lubed your hole prior. But it was still worrying to think about Legoshi's knotted cock fitting into your ass.

As you lay back on the bed, Legoshi couldn't help but stare at your ass, his heart pounding with desire. He knew that this was going to happen eventually, but seeing it right here in front of him made it all the more real.

His brow furrowed in concern when he saw the expression on your face, worry written all over it. "I don't want to hurt you," he murmured softly, his voice full of regret.

You shook your head reassuringly, trying to calm him down. "It's okay," you whispered back, placing a hand on his chest to steady him. "We can take things slow."

With a deep breath, Legoshi nodded slowly, still uncertain but willing to trust in your words. Together, you guided him closer, positioning his tip at your entrance. He had a strong grip on your hips and you placed your hands over his.

"Are you ready?" you asked quietly, meeting his eyes for reassurance. He nodded again, biting his lip as he prepared for the inevitable penetration. Slowly, carefully, he eased himself inside you, groaning softly at the tightness surrounding him.

As Legoshi pushed further into you, a sharp stab of pain shot through your body. You winced and let out a small cry, causing him to freeze midway. "Did I hurt you?" he asked worriedly, pulling back slightly. Closing your eyes tightly to block out the pain, you forced yourself to relax and breathe steadily. When you opened your eyes again, you saw the genuine concern reflected in Legosi's gaze. He looked truly frightened at the prospect of hurting you.

Reaching up, you cupped his cheek gently and smiled reassuringly. "No," you said softly, "just a bit of discomfort. Keep going..." Your voice trailed off as he resumed his thrusts, slowly pushing further into you. Despite the pain, you couldn't deny the intense pleasure mixed with it. The sensation of being filled by your boyfriend was overwhelming. As Legoshi picked up speed, his hands entwined with yours.

As Legoshi's pace quickened, sweat dripping down his fur, his movements became erratic yet powerful. Drool slipped past his parted lips, trailing down his chin as he lost himself in the motions. His eyes were glazed over, focused solely on you and the rhythmic movement of their bodies. His muscles tensed with each thrust, the sounds of fur slapping against skin filling the room.

Every time you cried out in pleasure or arched your back, it drove him even harder, his cock throbbing with need inside you. He lost track of time and place, consumed by the primal desire pulsing through him. All he could see was you and all he wanted was more.

Legoshi's voice cracked as he tried to speak, the heat building up inside him making it difficult to form coherent sentences. "Mmm... God, you feel so good," he moaned, his tongue tangled in his attempts to express himself.

As he continued to pound into you, his hips slapping against your ass, he managed to gather enough strength to whisper, "Please... tell me how much you love this... Tell me it's amazing!"

Despite his plea, he doubted anything could have prepared him for the wave of emotion that crashed over him when you finally answered, your voice hoarse with passion, "Yes... yes, it's incredible. Don't stop."

Legoshi's hand slid down between your legs, his rough fingers curling around your cock as he began to stroke it in time with his thrusts. Your moans of pleasure echoed off the walls, driving him wild with lust. Unable to contain himself any longer, he threw his head back and roared, the sound reverberating throughout the room.

Legoshi's moans grew more intense as his pace increased, his body trembling with the effort of holding back his climax. "I love you," he chanted between ragged breaths, his voice breaking with emotion. "God, I love you so much."

"I love you too," you replied between heavy pants as you felt your world spinning. Your body quivered with each thrust, the sensations overloading your senses. You clung to Legoshi and wrapped your legs around his waist for dear life as he stirred your guts with his cock. Before you knew it, your entire body tensed up as you came with a loud moan.

As you came, your body convulsing in pleasure as you spilled seed onto your stomach, Legoshi growled low in his throat. The sound vibrated against your skin. Seeing your release only fueled his desire further, and he continued to pound into you, determined to claim his own release.

Legoshi's entire body tensed up as he felt his orgasm approaching, his movements becoming more frantic as he neared the edge. Just as he felt like he couldn't hold back anymore, he let out a loud, primal yell. In one thrust, he slammed his knot into you, locking into place with a wet popping sound. He released himself inside you, filling you up with his warm cum as his knot kept you in place. You whimper as you feel it coat your insides. His body shuddered violently as he let out a long, drawn-out moan.

Legoshi stayed buried deep inside you, his body still trembling with excitement. He nuzzled against your face affectionately, soft kisses scattered across your neck and shoulders. "I'm so sorry if it hurts," he whispered softly.

You ran your fingers through his fur gently, offering reassurance as you spoke, "It's okay." You paused for a moment before adding, "Besides, maybe it won't be so bad having us stuck together like this for a while." You gave him a playful smirk which only served to make him flustered even more.

You both spent the rest of the night cuddling closely together, occasionally shifting positions to ease the discomfort caused by his knot. As sleep claimed you both, you drifted off happily knowing Legoshi was connected to you, physically and emotionally.

Scumtober 2023 Masterlist

#beastars #beastars x reader #legoshi #legoshi x reader #male reader #male!reader #legoshi x male!reader #legoshi beastars #beastars legoshi #scumtober #scumtober 2023 #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #knott

[totaly-obsessed]

can you write for Katie where her and reader have been dating for awhile and meeting eachothers parents and them getting on well :)

Meeting the Parents

Katie McCabe x reader request

-> Meeting your girlfriends parents goes better than you would have thought

-> @ anon I hope you like it! -> Another short one

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Anxiety wrecked through your body as you stood in front of Katie’s childhood home – Today was the day you would meet her parents. With ten siblings it's hard to get them alone, but tonight everything worked out. Your girlfriend of five months wanted to introduce you to her family gradually, and not throw you into cold water, meeting all of them at once.

“What are the chances that you’d let me not meet them, then tell them I died or something and we can run away together and—”

“Breathe, baby. Please!” The Irishwoman couldn’t help but laugh, finding your nervousness cute, but she obviously already knew her parents, and you didn’t. “They’re gonna love you, don’t even worry your pretty little head about it.”

Instead of knocking like you wanted to, your girlfriend just pushed the door open. “Mum! Dad! We’re here!” her loud voice drowned the soft background music out, as two figures made their way towards you from the kitchen.

“Oh it is so lovely to meet you – look how pretty Gary!” Katie’s mum immediately started to fuss about you, pulling you in a bone-crushing hug, before keeping you at arm's length, looking you up and down. “We need to get some meat onto ya!”

Wow. This was a lot.

But Katie couldn’t help but smile, watching her mum be so excited towards you and openly inviting you into her family home. Her dad gave her a firm pat on the back, obviously a lot calmer than her mum was – but he also pulled you in a quick hug, making you feel very welcome.

No ten minutes later after getting a tour of the entire home, the four of you were sat at the dining table – or rather Katie and Gary were sitting, while you insisted on helping Sharon carry the many side dishes and help cut the bread. It was delicious – a pasta mushroom ragout with incredible homemade bread, very hearty and filling.

Everything was going well and Katie admired the way you just fit in perfectly with both her parents. Sharon and you shared a passion for cooking and gardening while Gary admired your subtle and funny digs at his daughter.

“So what do you do for a living?” Gary had swatted at Katie to help her Mum clear the table, making you sit back down again, insisting that you had already helped enough and that your girlfriend was indeed able to do some work, even if she would try to convince you from other things.

“Oh, I’m a Bank Teller. I help our customers cash checks, withdraw money, move transactions to different accounts, create checking and savings accounts, and provide checks to customers – stuff like that.”

Both Gary and Sharon had wide eyes, that just screamed impressed – while Katie had that annoying, cocky smirk on her face as her hand rested on your thighs. “Told you she’s smarter than all of us!”

You could see where Katie had gotten her wit, humor, and compassion from. Her parents truly were incredible. Eleven children was no easy feat and all of them had grown to be lovely human beings. It made your eyes water a bit, hearing the parents brag about their youngest getting good grades and finding passion in drawing.

“Katie here was always a little special though.” You couldn’t help but laugh at your girlfriend’s wide eyes – she was fucked. The conversation had turned from her sibling's embarrassing stories to her own and she knew it. “We once went to church, and the priest raised his voice at the end of his sermon, to emphasize his point. And because Katie here, wasn’t allowed to shout in the house, she stood up on the pews and yelled at the top of her lungs ‘Inside voice only!’ – the whole church laughed!”

Gary could barely tell the story, or get through the impression of his daughter without nearly dying of laughter – and you joined him. Katie could only watch you, mesmerized that you fit in so well, that she didn’t even care that her parents were just completely embarrassing her with story after story until your belly hurt from laughing so much.

The way out took at least thirty minutes, someone always found something else to say. You were sure that you had hugged Sharon at least five times now. “Okay! We’ll be off now!”

Once again you hugged both of her parents, whispering a small ‘Thank you for having us’ in their ears while Katie watched. “Oh get some leftovers, would’ ya?” And with that you were gone again, leaving your girlfriend with her father by the door.

“Do you like her?”

“I think I like her more than you.”

Katie scoffed. She could definitely understand her father, and she was happy that the evening had gone over so well.

Meanwhile, Sharon and you were in the kitchen, making a huge box of leftovers to take home with you. “Thank you for loving my daughter. You were one of us from the moment you started taking care of her.”

“Thank you for giving birth to Katie – and for welcoming me!” Both of you laughed through the tears at your clumsy statement.

You left Katie with her parents, already getting in the car to give them a moment alone. The night was cold and Katie’s coat only did so much to keep you warm, but the box of food still emitted a warmth. Not only because it was still hot, but also because it felt like home.

“I’m gonna be honest my love. Watching you guys together made me glad because I know you have someone when your mum and I leave this earth.” Sharon still had tears in her eyes, and now Katie did too.

“Don’t say stuff like that Dad, make you look old!”

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso imagines #arsenal wfc x reader #katie mccabe #katie mc cabe x reader #katie mccabe x reader

[sorbetisfruity]

So, fun lil fact about me, I’m southern. And I don’t really have the whole southern/country accent unless I get super mad and start yellin’</3

So now I’m thinking about Epel finding out you’re southern and freaking out because omg!!!! You’re like him!!!!!

No one else has the little country accent he does:((((

You, Epel, Grim, and probably Ace, Jack, Sebek, and Deuce are walking around school because you guys have some free time. You guys haven’t seen the entire school because y’all are first years, so you’re exploring together!!

How fun is that?

So, you guys are walking around, pointing out things you haven’t noticed or seen before.

Like classes you haven’t taken and teachers you’ve never heard of.

And it’s all peaceful until you hear someone yelling your name from behind you.

You obviously turn around, thinking it might be one of your other friends or one of the housewardens needing some help.

But instead you’re met nearly fist to face with a Savanaclaw student.

Luckily you were able to dodge before his fist hit you.

“Dude, what the hell? What’s your problem?” You say, staring at his fist that’s now clenched tightly at his side.

“You’re my fuckin problem!! You fucking bitch!!” He screams, his pointer finger digging into your chest.

He continues to scream at you as the guys try to get him off of your ass. Jack is trying to pull him back and Ace and Deuce are cussing him out. Grim is threatening to spit some fire and Epel is helping Jack. Sebek is in front of you, guarding you from any attacks he may lay on you.

(Epel wants to seem more manly in front of you guys</3)

And finally, you get to the point where you’ve had enough and get sick of trying to solve this nicely.

“If ya wan’ a fight then you’re gonna get a fight douchebag..” you say, country accent slipping through.

“The fuck you say? Come on, speak up pussy!” The savanaclaw student growls, pushing past Jack and Epel, and shoving Sebek out of the way to come face-to-face with you.

“I said…” you grabbed the collar of his shirt, “if you wan’ a fight, you’re gonna get one. And don’t call me a pussy, you fuckin’ dipshit!”

You sock him in the jaw, making him fall back and nearly land on Jack and Epel.

The guys are absolutely flabbergasted because one, they didn’t know you had a country accent and two, they weren’t expecting you to HIT him.

You glare at the student on the floor as he holds his jaw in pain.

“Did that knock any sense inta’ ya?” You taunted, continuing to glare up at him as he scrambles to his feet. “Now ya know not to fuck wit’ me, right? Are we clear? Ya know to stay away from me and my pals?”

The savanaclaw student frantically nodded his head, and quickly ran away from you afterwards, tail in between his legs.

“God bless his heart…” you mumbled, turning to face your friends, whom of which were all staring at you with wide eyes.

“…what?”

“Dude…that was AWESOME!!!! You never told us you can punch like that!!!” Ace exclaimed, shaking you frantically.

“Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?” Jack asked, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“No-no, I’m fine sweetheart I’m fine..” you sigh.

Jack blushed at the pet name, tail wagging excitedly.

“Human, do you need me to call Malleus for some assistance? He’s much stronger than you so he’ll be able to take care of that guy for you!!!” Sebek all but screams into your ear.

“That’s a nice offer but, imma have ta’ decline. Sorry Sebek..”

“Prefect, your voice..” Deuce started, pointing at you.

“Ya have an accent?? A country accent? No way!!” Epel looked up at you as he fangirled, grabbing your hands.

“Oh!! Uh, yeah. It only, ya know, pops out when I’m mad and start yellin’, as you can tell..” you giggle nervously, blushing at all of the attention you were now receiving.

“Henchman, that was so cool!” Grim even praised you, jumping onto the shoulder that wasn’t occupied.

And the entire day, all they talked about was how badass it was that you nearly knocked out a savanaclaw student. Bragging to everyone and anyone who’d listen (and who wouldn’t listen) about how cool the Ramshackle Prefect is.

Epel mainly talked about your country accent and asked stuff about your hometown:(((

And you just knowwwww Epel went back to the dorm and told Rook and Vil all about it. Rook is fangirling just like Epel and Vil just couldn’t be more pissed off.

He’s been trying so god damn hard to break Epels accent, now he’s gotta break yours too?!?!

Ugh, must he do everything around here??

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

DUDE WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME HOW HARD IT WAS TO WRITE A COUNTRY ACCENT??? I am never doing that again unless I absolutely need too whhshwhebsbssbsb:((((

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst x reader #disney twst #twst mc #twst headcanons #twst wonderland #twst ace #twst epel #twst jack #twst deuce #twst grim #epel x reader #epel felmier #epel headcanons #ace trappola #twisted wonderland deuce #deuce spade #jack twst #grim twisted wonderland #imagines #imagine #headcanons #twst vil #twisted wonderland vil #vil shoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #rook x reader #twst rook

[ckret2]

Chapter 46 of human Bill Cipher frantically wishing he was still locked in the Mystery Shack and not getting his wish:

The Eclipse: Part 4

Gravity has fully disappeared from Gravity Falls and Bill finally learns why the Axolotl traveled all the way to Earth to see him. And meanwhile, Ford's in mortal peril.

There were only two ways to remove a pair of magic friendship bracelets. Either both wearers had to consent to removing the bracelets; or one of the parties had to die. The bracelets weren't active if they were only being worn by one person, and a corpse wasn't a person.

The moment Dipper's soul left his body, the thread connecting the bracelets turned visible again.

Bill immediately yanked off his bracelet. He considered just letting it go, reconsidered considering that Dipper's ghost would probably tattle to Mabel, and carefully, slowly reeled the thread in. Without the magic active, it was just normal embroidery floss. The Axolotl's gravitational pull didn't make Dipper's body heavy enough to break the line, but if Bill jerked it just a little too hard, it would snap.

Bill heaved a sigh when the body was close enough he could grasp its wrist. He grabbed Dipper's head and snarled in his dead face, "This is why I told you to get in the cave." He wrapped the bracelet around and around the tree trunk and Dipper's forearm, muttering to himself, "But does anybody listen to the all-knowing immortal dream demon who's seventy times older than their entire universe? No! No, what could it possibly know! Surely we'll get better ideas from the brain-damaged hick who married a raccoon—"

An immense voice said, "Hello."

Bill froze. He slowly turned away from the beast above Gravity Falls.

The voice said serenely, "Look at me, you 8-karat coward."

He slowly turned toward the beast above Gravity Falls. He swallowed hard, steeled himself, and dragged his gaze up until he met the Axolotl's eye and he was gently tugged into the time and space between time and space. "Oh, heyyy," he squeaked. He forced a pained smile. "Didn't see you there! Haha, hi! Wow! Imagine running into you in this dimension on this planet, crazy."

"Yes, crazy," the Axolotl agreed.

"This isn't a regular part of your commute! I guess you've got some time off," Bill said. "Work must be going well!"

"Pretty well. I scheduled an extended lunch break," the Axolotl said amiably. "How's being human going?"

Bill shot the Axolotl a dirty look.

The Axolotl continued to give him a perpetual smile. "Happy New Year, by the way."

"I'll kill you."

"No you won't."

"Okay look, let's just cut to the chase," Bill said. "Go on. Tell me my punishment."

"Punishment?"

"For! Coming back here instead of staying when you dumped me in 3012. I skipped time while on parole. That's obviously why you're here." He looked down, shielding his face with a hand and squeezing his eyes shut. "So stop wasting my time and tell me how much trouble I'm in. I'm a busy guy, I don't wanna drag this out."

"Well," the Axolotl said, "it appears to me that you're locked in your enemies' home, you can't use doors, and you need to be handcuffed to a child to go outside. Is that enough 'trouble' for you?"

Bill opened one eye. "Wait, so." He looked up skeptically. "You're saying I won't get re-executed for breaking the rules. Or—or get stuck in a worse body."

"No," the Axolotl said. "You'll answer to no jailer's voice; what you do now is your own choice. I moved you by a thousand years to free you from your killers' fears. If you decide then to return, it's your own second chance you burn."

"Ohhh. See, I assumed this entire situation was a... prison... thing. Considering the..." He gestured vaguely at his body. "The flesh prison." 

"It's a body. Not a prison. You aren't being imprisoned."

"'Not a prison' my base, if it's not a prison then why can't—" He caught himself before he asked a question, and took a deep breath. "So, there are no rules against coming right back to where I left off."

"Though I think your plan is clunky—not my circus, not my monkey."

"Oh. Okay, great." Bill planted his hands on his hips, straightening up properly for the first time since the Axolotl's arrival. "Huh. How 'bout that. Spent the last two days worrying for nothing!"

"You? Worried?"

"Of course not, I wasn't worried for a second," Bill said. "So if you're not here to punish me—that doesn't explain why you are here."

"Are you asking?"

"You know I'm not."

The Axolotl stared at Bill, patiently awaiting a question. Bill stared at the Axolotl, patiently not asking one.

The Axolotl caved first. "I wanted to make sure you hadn't burned down the dimension yet."

Bill pointed sharply at the Axolotl. "Hey! Hey!"

The Axolotl gave him a look like a toothless gumball learning how to smile.

"Not funny! Seriously, now!"

"I came because you called."

"Wh— When did—?" Bill cut himself off. He thought back to the day he'd spent locked in the bathroom. He recalled the desperate plea for salvation he'd painted on the ceiling. He buried his face in his hand. "That... that was a joke. False alarm."

"I gathered," the Axolotl said.

Bill peeked between his fingers. "But, I did call for rescue. Therefore. You're here to rescue me."

"No."

"Why n—! You said I'm not supposed to be in a prison! You've seen what these humans have done to me!"

"You aren't a prisoner," the Axolotl said. "You're a kidnapping victim. That's outside my jurisdiction."

Infuriating—but it told Bill something important: in the Axolotl's eyes, Bill's captivity wasn't just. And Bill didn't consider the Axolotl any kind of god—he didn't consider anyone any kind of god—but the Ax had a lot of pull in the multiverse when it came to defining the universal concept of justice. That was promising. 

"But I do have a keen interest in your case. I wanted to check in on your progress."

Bill gave the Axolotl a questioning look. "'Progress.'"

The Axolotl said nothing. Bill waited. The Axolotl simply continued to smile. "You haven't asked a question yet. Usually you can't wait to get rid of me."

"Under the circumstances," he gestured again at his body, "I didn't think I could afford to waste it."

"I see. However, I do have a meeting I need to get to."

What was the most important thing he could ask. What did he need to know the most. "So... if I learn my lesson or complete my sentence or—whatever I'm supposed to do... will you turn me back into a triangle?"

"I can't and won't do anything else. I've completed my obligation to you," the Axolotl said. "Whatever happens to you from now on is up to you."

That could mean anything from "you're stuck as a human forever and will die in less than a century" to "there's a secret spell on you and when you meet its conditions you'll automatically turn back into a triangle" to "you're already a triangle, you just need to believe in yourself." All Bill knew was that he wasn't getting any help from the Ax.

"It's been a pleasure as always," the Axolotl said. The world slowly began to move again as he gently returned Bill to the dimension he'd come from.

"Wait!" Bill called. He needed to know—was he still a triangle, somewhere on the inside, buried beneath all this flesh and bone? Or had the Axolotl's transformation rotted him to his core—was he now nothing but a human through and through? If he wasn't being punished, why had his suffocating soul been smothered under a blanket of meat? If he wasn't being punished, why had his own corpse stared him in the eye as if it didn't recognize him? "Just one more question before you go!"

"If you have the time. Up to you."

If he had the time? Bill's eyes darted around. Why wouldn't he have the time, what was he missing—?

His gaze locked on Ford. Floating twenty, thirty feet out from the cliff's edge. Oh.

Bill let the Axolotl's gravity drag him to the edge of the cliff before digging a hand into the ground, holding himself in place. Bill was safe; Dipper's body was safe, and his soul could float home once the Axolotl was gone. But when the Axolotl was gone, gravity would immediately come back—0 to 100, just like that—and Ford was dead.

And the Axolotl was already turning away. The millions of axolotls in the water below followed, moving through and out of the lake as though the lakebed didn't exist, migrating in the Axolotl's wake.

Ford was unsuccessfully trying to swim through the air back to land. Several useless feet of cable from his infinity belt floating around him from trying to fling it at the cliff. The best he could do was stretch an arm toward land.

He met Bill's eyes. The only other time Bill had seen Ford this terrified was when he'd threatened to torture the kids.

Bill looked at Ford, looked at the Axolotl—nearly too far to shout to—and looked down. By now, the future death he'd witnessed earlier was so close that Bill could see more than the blood to be left on the rocks. He could see the body—gray hair, tan overcoat, broken. It was just a few moments away.

Stanford Pines was about to die. Bill Cipher was innocent. Dipper was his witness; Dipper, honest goody hero type, could verify that Bill not only repeatedly told them both to stay away from the thing in the sky, but also warned them to anchor themselves right before totality. Everyone at the shack knew he'd protested, knew he'd warned them, knew he'd begged to stay home. There was no possible way Bill could get blamed for this.

And once Ford was dead, none of the idiots in this town would ever find a way to destroy Bill.

Up to you.

Bill didn't stop to think.

He kicked off the edge of the cliff.

He could see, hovering in the air like a golden arc amidst a dozen blurry failures, the path he needed to jump to reach Ford. The Axolotl's tail was already soaring over the town, his sky blue fins rippling like vast, slow sails. If Bill reached Ford before the Axolotl's influence was completely gone, he could fly them over the lake and they might both survive. 

They collided. Bill had to fling an arm over Ford's shoulder before he managed to get a grip on his lapel; Ford seized Bill's hoodie in both hands. Ford demanded, "What are you—?" He fell silent as their trajectory took a sudden sharp turn from south to east.

"The lake!"

Ford nodded. Why could come if they both survived. He could already feel weight grabbing onto his limbs. He spared a split-second glance down, but with half the lake floating in the air he couldn't tell if they'd cleared its banks yet. "Have you ever learned to swim?"

"You have to learn?!"

Ford prayed, if Bill drowned, that he was a mortal, and that he wasn't the kind of drowner who dragged other people down with him. "Cross your ankles as tightly as you can, cross your arms over your chest, land feet first in the water—better to break your legs than your neck—do not tilt your head, eyes on the horizon—" And that was as much emergency survival advice as he could give before gravity returned in full force.

This wasn't the first time Ford had plummeted into a deep liquid from an irresponsible height over the past thirty years. The hit was softer than he expected—the turbulent lake hadn't settled back down into its normal water pressure—but he also sank far deeper than he expected. Streams of bubbles raced past his vision; maybe it was just the power of suggestion, but he could have sworn they looked like transparent axolotls.

As soon as he had his wits about him, he threw off his coat, tugged off his boots, and kicked his way toward the surface.

Bill didn't.

This actually wasn't so bad, he thought, with a calmness that definitely came from being such a rational level-headed fellow and not from being in shock. Sure, all the air had been forced out of his lungs and his body was screaming in airless panic, but he wasn't his body, was he? This felt just like floating. He would miss floating again.

What was he supposed to do now.

He'd seen humans swim. He tried kicking his legs. He felt stupid. But, he decided—again, with a calmness that definitely was not from shock—that looking kinda stupid was probably preferable to drowning. Although he was curious what drowning felt like. Had he ever drowned a puppet before? He couldn't remember. Didn't seem bad so far.

He surfaced.

Ford was already on shore, on hands and knees, desperately coughing out water, his lungs burning. He collapsed in the sand. It took a couple minutes for him to reach the point where he was breathing more than he was coughing, and another minute of heavy breathing before he had the energy to look at the lake again. Bill was floating on his back about fifty feet away, very still.

Ford croaked, "Bill," coughed again, and tried a little louder. "Bill?"

Without otherwise moving, Bill raised one arm and gave him a thumbs-up.

Ford dug into what energy reserves he still had, shuffled back into the water, and swam over to Bill. "Are you all right?"

Bill gave him a dazed look, opened his mouth, and exhaled a cup of water. Then he started coughing. 

Ford grimaced. "Let's... get to shore." He took Bill's arm to tug him toward dry land.

Bill flailed upright and shoved him off. "Don't—" Hack. "M'fine. I l—" Cough. "I like floating." He lay on his back, shut his eyes, and said shakily, "Don't touch me."

Ford treaded water for a moment, considering that. Bill looked like he'd got the hang of floating enough that he wasn't an immediate drown risk, so Ford said, "I'll... be on land."

"'Kay."

Ford swam to shore and sat cross-legged in the wet sand to wait, staring down at his hands. The Handwitch's ring was a bright indigo blue again, no traces of darkness within the cabochon, as though the lake water had washed it clean.

Should he go do something useful? There weren't many places Bill could go, except to shore; it wasn't like he was at risk of escaping. But then if Bill did make it to land while Ford was distracted, he had a chance to make a run for it without the bracelet—

Ford stood up. "Bill! Where's Dipper?!"

Bill raised one arm and pointed up.

Ford looked at Gravity Peak. A small speck high above, Dipper was looking down over the cliff's edge. Ford waved to him. Dipper waved back. Well. That was inconvenient. Maybe Ford could restrain Bill with the infinity belt's cable in the meantime. (He reeled the cable in while he was thinking about it. He was fortunate it hadn't tangled on anything while he was underwater.)

"We have to rendezvous with Dipper. Get over here."

"Just leave me."

"Not an option."

Bill let out a pitiable whine, but, after a moment, managed to figure out a way to slowly paddle-kick his way toward land.

When his heels hit sand, he rolled over, crawled onto land, and lay down. "Gravity," he groaned. "I hate gravity."

"I'm not too fond of it myself right now." Ford's limbs felt like lead. Some combination of spending a day and a half in steadily reduced gravity, the exhaustion following a near death experience, and waterlogged clothes. "Where are the enchanted bracelets?"

Bill lifted one hand from the elbow and pointed toward the cliff again.

That'd be just Ford's luck. All the same, he said, "Really?" Bill would hide them if they were on him.

"Yes, really. Whaddaya want, a strip search?" He gestured vaguely toward his body without lifting his head. "Go ahead. 'M not moving to help." His arm flopped back down.

Ford decided that was a bluff he did not want to call. "Fine. We'll put them back on when we rendezvous with Dipper." If Bill tried to escape, Ford wasn't sure he was in any condition to chase; but then Bill didn't seem to be in any condition to run, either.

"Surprised you wanna wear matching bracelets with me. If I'd known, I woulda made you a friendship bracelet." Under his breath, Bill muttered at the sand, "But m'sure it'd've been a waste of thread."

Ford decided it was more prudent to hold his tongue. "Can you walk?"

"If I have to." For as difficult as Bill made getting to his feet look, one would think he was being subjected to the gravity of Jupiter. Ford offered his hand; Bill smacked it aside.

"Well. My raft is still in the cave behind Trembley Falls, so we'll have to borrow a boat." Ford pointed toward Tate & Backle's Bait & Tackle at the far end of the lake. "Think you can make it that far?"

Bill—barefoot, soggy, and slumped like he had the whole weight of the world on his shoulders—gave Ford the most pathetic look he'd ever seen Bill wear. Ford empathized completely. But Bill only sighed and said, "Let's get going."

####

Tate lowered his magazine to give Ford a critical look. "Dr. Pines," he said. "You get caught out on the lake when the gravity came back?"

"Something like that."

He shook his head. "Shoulda listened to the news."

"The news?"

"Dad's been making public warnings since yesterday. 'Stay anchored and keep your head down.' Reckon you must've missed it."

"We've... been camping." He'd have to ask Fiddleford about that later. "Listen—do you have a boat we could borrow? It's an emergency. We were separated from Dipper and we have to get across the lake."

Tate raised his hat just enough to give Ford a look that told him exactly what he thought of his merit as a guardian—Ford figured he deserved that—but then stood with a sigh. "All right, I'll see what we've got."

He paused, then gestured behind Ford with his chin. "Who's the lady?"

Ford turned. The shop's door was propped open and Bill was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed tight, staring blankly out across the lake. "Er—Goldie. She's... staying in the shack a few weeks."

"Hm." Tate raised his voice. "Ma'am?"

Bill didn't budge.

"Ma'am—Miss Goldie?"

That time he turned to give Tate a faraway look. "Me?"

"Yes, uh—you're soaked to the bone. Would you like to borrow some dry clothes?"

"Oh." Bill considered the question for a little longer than necessary. "If you want."

Ford explained, "She inhaled a lot of water."

Tate nodded. "Think we've got some out-of-season stock in the back, there might be something big enough for..." He caught himself before insinuating something about a lady's weight, and mumbled, "Well, it'll do." He headed to a door behind the counter, paused, looked Ford over, and reluctantly said, "I s'pose you can get something too."

####

Tate had a motorboat in good working order, so he let them borrow it, with a stern request to have it back by the end of the day. And so they set out—Ford in waders that went up to his chest, a bandana he really hoped was keeping his embarrassing neck tattoo hidden, and a t-shirt that said "The worst day of fishing is better than the best day of court-ordered anger management classes"; and Bill in a makeshift skirt Tate had apologetically improvised out of a beach towel, a sweater depicting a pine tree constructed out of fish that said "MERRY FISHMAS", and a pair of novelty slippers shaped like rainbow trout.

"I'm never giving these shoes back," Bill informed Ford as they crossed the lake. "I don't care whether we buy them or steal them. They're hilarious." It was the nearest thing to personality Bill had demonstrated since landing in the lake.

Ford supposed he was in no position to tell Bill he couldn't keep them, considering that Bill had... well.

Well.

Ford should say something about that. He didn't know what. He didn't know where to start. (Bill's question came back to him: if Ford didn't believe anything Bill said, why did he keep trying to pry information out of him?)

(Because, he realized—beneath thirty years of every nerve in his body screaming "DON'T TRUST HIM"—part of him was still hoping Bill would say something he could believe.)

Ford cleared his throat. "It's... impressive that you didn't panic while you were underwater," he said awkwardly. "That must have taken remarkable self control."

"Oh. Eh." Bill spread his hands vaguely. "I wasn't really paying attention to what was happening. I was thinking about other stuff."

Ford blinked. "While you were drowning?"

"It wasn't a very severe drowning."

Ford huffed.

This was probably a conversation he should have later—Bill's brain only appeared to be half on—but, if they had it later, Ford wasn't sure he'd get anything but yet another polished lie. 

And so he steeled his nerves and asked, "Why did you save me."

Bill didn't answer. He stared silently at his rainbow trout slippers.

"Bill—?"

"Hold on," he said. "I don't know, just—give me a minute to make something up."

It was the first time in a month and a half—the first time in years—that Ford was absolutely certain Bill had just told him the truth.

And not just about his intentions to lie to Ford—but about not knowing why he'd saved him.

It meant there was no secret master plan, no manipulative ulterior motives, no cunning illusions. It meant Bill had endangered himself just to save Ford.

There was a universe where Ford then said, "I didn't think you meant it all those times you said you wanted to be my friend again," and where Bill lied—both to Ford and to himself—"I didn't think I meant it either." It wasn't this universe, because neither one of them wanted those words out in the world. Yet they still hovered around them, unspoken.

It didn't make Ford trust Bill. It didn't make Ford like Bill. Bill was still everything he'd ever been—liar, conman, tyrant, torturer—and Ford still hated him for all of it.

But. It meant that for the first time in a month in a half, a muscle between Ford's shoulder blades that had been knotted tight with fear could finally loosen and relax.

Ford was safe.

####

(I first had the idea for this chapter nearly a year ago and I've been dying waiting to post it. I hope you enjoyed, and I can't wait to hear what y'all think! And to those of you in the path of totality, happy solar eclipse this Monday! I totally planned it this way. I did not.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #stanford pines #grunkle ford #the axolotl #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

[myslvtwritings]

Hello could you do uppermoons with a S/O who has anger issues?

ofc! thank you for the requesting:)

➤ Uppermoons reaction to a S/O who has anger issues

including; Muzan, Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza, Sekido, Karaku, Aizetsu & Urogi

not proof read

Muzan Kibutsuji

• He believes the way you act is childish whenever you’re angry/upset.

• A little bit hypocritical of him considering he potentially has slight anger issues himself but after all he is a demon so he assumes it’s normal. Doesn’t really think much of it tbh.

• If you’re the type to have frequent outbursts/tantrums when you’re angry i feel like he would just ignore you until you’ve calmed down.

• Not the best at comfort. Affection isn’t his forte.

• Once you’ve calmed down a bit he’d return to comfort you in his own way.

• His way may not be as affectionate but it’s his way of showing you he cares.

• Muzan isn’t a softie (obviously) he’s very intimidating and downright the embodiment of evil so his way of showing affection is not ideal.

• But he cares though (more than you think)

• As your relationship progresses and you open up more about your own mental issues and needs and how you prefer to be cared for whenever you’re having an episode he’ll try to be more understanding!!

• Muzan still isn’t all that used to it but he tries just for you.

• Sometimes finds it amusing when the smallest little things piss you off though..

• He’ll chuckle under his breath at your little childish out bursts which only adds more fuel to the fire.

• Might bring you one of his victims so you can take your anger out on them because he assumes it’ll soothe down your nerves

• He’s never met someone like you and your emotions are pretty powerful. It makes him wonder how powerful you’ll be as a demon if he were to turn you into one. He prefers you as a human though because of the power imbalance.

• Fights may occur frequently between y’all due to you accidentally taking your anger out on him sometimes (god help your poor soul)

• Don’t worry! He won’t kill you.

• Usually he is very calm whenever you’re angry but if you just lash out and take everything out on him he’ll get pissed too.

• Whenever you two are some arguing you guys kind of just forget it ever happened and he just holds you in his arms or makes you sit on his lap to see if that helps you or not.

Kokushibo

• Kokushibo here sorta gives off this semi-calm vibe in my opinion? However, whenever he is angry it’s fucking terrifying.

• Whenever you’re upset he will sit you down so the two of you can discuss it.

• Like Muzan he will probably chuckle if you’re mad over something so tiny.

• However, unlike Muzan he isn’t toxic about it.

• He’s still a demon though so don’t expect it to be perfect.

• If you tell him what’ll make you feel better then he’ll do it in a heartbeat.

• You need a hug? okay! You don’t want to be touched? that’s fine too! he’ll give you the space you need until you’ve calmed down.

• I feel like he is the type to grab you firmly by the shoulders and tell you to calm the fuck down.

• Or maybe he’ll stare at you menacingly until your anger subsides..

• He’s the voice of reason whenever you’re upset over something ridiculous.

• If you’re mad for an entirely different reason (that’s valid in his eyes) is when he’s more caring and affectionate. (then again, in his own way)

• Kokushibo is quiet. He is not all that vocal unless he’s fighting demon slayers but whenever he isn’t on a mission he gives the “quiet kid” vibe.

• Koku embraces you and strokes your hair if you cry when you’re mad.

• If you’re the type to break things whenever you’re mad Kokushibo dislikes that sort of behavior. Isn’t a fan of extreme loud noises. He will get you to stop by manhandling you. Doesn’t usually raise his voice at his precious s/o no matter how mad they are.

Douma

• My fucking god.

• This little shit finds it cute

• Will tease you. (finds your anger issues entertaining)

• Human emotion is just so strange!!

• Fun fact: Douma actually feels emotions around you. However, it’s still somewhat foreign to him and he still has major difficulty understanding human emotions. (please be patient with even tho he is a menace)

• If you talk to him about it more he will surprisingly understand you. This surprises you because he doesn’t understand any of his followers half of the time. (You special frfr)

• Don’t expect the teasing to stop entirely though.

• He thinks mortals are so endearing when they spark with such intense emotions over the stupidest of reasons!

• It doesn’t matter how pissed off you are. This mf will only continue to think it’s adorable and tease you relentlessly which boils your blood to the maximum level..

• Blud DEADASS gets confused when you snap at him for it.

• “Ehh?? why are you mad at me?!” (He’ll whine about it)

• Douma is a complete menace. Knows exactly what he’s doing.

• Once he realizes “Maybe they don’t actually like it when i tease them..” he’ll tone it down a notch.

• Still somewhat teases you though. That isn’t going to go away permanently but he will tone it down only for your sake!

• Similar to Muzan, he will laugh at you when you get mad over something little/stupid.

• And like Kokushibo, also the type to manhandle you if you’re out of control. (Smiles the whole time while handling your feisty ass)

• However, he is still sweet so if you sit down and talk to him then he’ll do anything he can to make you feel better! After all, you’ve always been there for him so he must return the favor!

• Whenever you cry when you’re mad Douma forcibly pulls you onto his lap and peppers your face in kisses.

• If you’re going on a rant about something that made you angry he’ll definitely shut you up by kissing you if he grows bored/tired of listening to you.

• He is a slave for you so he’ll let you take your frustrations out on him (New kink unlocked)

• Always finds your emotions very intriguing. How can a human feel so much?

• If there was a certain someone who triggered your anger issues Douma will just eat them! He won’t let anyone hurt you<33

• Or he’ll maybe let you kill them to help you feel better.

Akaza

• Akaza is beyond caring and understanding of your anger issues!

• Akaza is very worried about you! Will want to communicate with you immediately about this.

• He listens to everything you have to say.

• Does get a little taken aback by your outburst though. you’re like a volcano.

• He’ll politely ask to hug you if you’re the type who wants to be touched when you’re angry to help calm you down!

• Offers to give you a massage as well.

• However, if you want space then he’ll gladly give you that as well!

• Will occasionally check up on you, asking you if you need anything.

• Whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

• If you want to break things when you get angry he will find objects for you to take your anger out on.

• If you’re a demon and you get heated he might find it hot when you’re mad. He’ll watch with pride as you fuck the shit up out of one of the demon slayers!

• I feel great pity if anyone caused you to get angry. This man will ANNIHILATE a village worth of people if they’ve hurt you in any way. (He’s super overprotective)

• Overall 10/10 boyfriend! will always be here for you and help you during your episodes:)

Sekido

• Oh boy. SAME BOAT, SAME BOAT.

• Like you, he too has a very short temper.

• Okay, i feel like he is definitely the most understanding out of EVERYONE.

• Sekido’s anger issues are SEVERE (just like yours)

• He honestly relates to you.

• Sekido is scary enough but the two of you combined? All hell will break loose.

• The other clones are terrified of you both 😭😭

• And if you’re a demon that’s a whole different story..

• You guys are a power duo and definitely go on killing sprees together whenever y’all’s anger is out of control.

• All though he’s the one who truly understands you he isn’t the type to communicate about it nor provide you with any ideal comfort.

• Sekido’s way of showing affection/comfort is just letting you stay mad until you’ve calmed down or just shit talking with you about whatever made you mad

• He will listen to you and understand. Bro will be mad FOR you in any situation that ticked you off 💀

• It makes HIM even more infuriated whenever someone pissed you off.

• Will kill them INSTANTLY for you and will not give a shit if you protest.

• Y’all scare the shit out of the other clones. (and each other)

• Have i not mentioned the both of you have the strong tendency to take y’all’s anger out on each other?

• It’s crazy.

• The sex is great though so it’s fine! (y’all have hate sex)

Karaku

• Like Douma, he’ll tease you relentlessly

• This mf prolly gets horny from seeing how ANGRY his s/o gets.

• He’s honestly surprised at first.. he thought you were innocent.

• Karaku has to deal with Sekido all the time so he isn’t scared of you.

• The only difference is that he finds you cute/hot when you’re mad.

• Bro will probably offer you head to make you feel better. He is the pleasure demon after all so he’ll do anything that’ll pleasure your angry little self!

• Steamy make-out sessions 😍‼️

• The type of mf to fuck the anger outta you probably (Or he’ll let you fuck him)

• He will also tease you and laugh at you though (He is a jerk like that)

• He teases you WAYY more than he does sekido

• He will baby you if you start to cry when you’re angry

• Now, do not be mistaken. Karaku DOES care but his way of providing comfort is rigged with his sadistic personality.

• You remind him a lot of Sekido just less intimidating because you’re his partner.

• Will hype you up if you destroy shit when you’re mad. He can just replace them anyway so it doesn’t matter

• “OH YEAH, FUCK THAT SHIT UPPPP!”

• Sometimes doesn’t understand when you only grow more angry with him when he hyped you up or when he teases you. Humans are so funny to him.

• if you were a demon he’d probs get even more turned on if you just slaughtered the hell out of the person who made you angry.

• Karaku will lend you his fan that he uses so you can destroy more things with it while you’re mad!

• Would love, love, LOVE to see you take down anything in existence with his fan.

• He isn’t the best communicator but he’ll hear you out whenever you’re venting.

• He doesn’t have anger issues so he won’t truly understand. But he’ll be there for you so that’s good, right?

• Still capable of sweetly comforting you! He will hug you and pepper your tear-stained face in kisses (Still picks on you though)

• With all that aside, Karaku messes with you still and that’ll never end. Unlike Douma he won’t ever stop teasing you nor level it down a bit despite your protests.

Aizetsu

• This pussy bitch is scared.

• Bro cries because of you

• He strongly dislikes yelling and overly violent behavior. (Is not too fond of loud noises basically)

• He is scared shitless of sekido. so when he founds out you get as angry, if not more angry than sekido himself Aizetsu is going to be petrified at first.

• Aizetsu may be a demon who devours people but out of all of the other clones he’s the most soft.

• He is usually calm, tends to give silent reactions but whenever you’re angry and yelling his mind is at war. He’s scared but also worried for his s/o at the same time.

• On the verge of a panic attack on the days/nights you’re mad.

• Will be scared if you have dramatic outbursts

• The one to watch you silently, on the verge of an anxiety attack as you flip the fuck out over whatever angered you.

• Aizetsu won’t judge you if you’re mad over something small. However, he will definitely be confused though. (Why are you angered by something so meaningless?)

• BUT!! despite your ballistic behavior and immature tantrums you’re still his beloved s/o! Aizestu will still do his all to ensure you’re protected and safe from harms way at ALL costs!!

• Aizetsu probably trembles whenever you scream a bit too loudly (It always surprises him because he never knows what’s going to set you off)

• When he first found out about your anger issues (Which was completely out of the blue because you’ve never told him before) Aizetsu is a tad bit disappointed you never told him prior.

• Eventually he will get used to it (sorta) and as he does he will feel guilty for not comforting you properly in the past.

• Aizetsu will let you lay your head on his lap as you vent/rant about what pissed you off.

• Aizetsu is still fiercely protective of his beloved s/o. Will unalive whoever upset you.

Urogi

• You and Urogi are the complete opposite

• He is positive and joyful while you’re negative and cunning.

• Whenever he witnesses you having an episode he will immediately bear hug you.

• Attacks you with kisses and laughs.

• Doesn’t really understand but he will listen to you!

• Like Karaku he will probably tease you only to immediately regret it because you won’t let that slide 💀

• Tries to ask sekido for help or the other clones. (Doesn’t get any)

• He’s not scared of you like Aizetsu because he deals with Sekido’s burning rage on a daily basis

• Urogi tries his hardest to keep his S/O in a positive mindset!

• Not the greatest at advice giving but (kind of) an excellent listener.

• He’s usually very hyperactive and talkative but whenever you need to vent/rant then he’s all ears and won’t interrupt you!

• Will wrap his wings around you in a protective manner if you want to be spooned by him.

• The type of man to take you out whenever you’re upset to get some fresh air.

• Probably will offer you sex to see if that’ll make you feel better 😭

• I feel like Urogi would be clingy so if you ask him for space it’ll be hard for him because he just wants to make sure you’re okay!

• Sometimes he finds it attractive when you’re angry

• a/n: I don’t know what else to put here (LMAO)

that’s about all! i hope you enjoyed reading<3

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #kny demons #upper moons #upper moons x reader #demon slayer headcanons #kny headcanons #muzan x reader #kokushibo x reader #douma x reader #akaza x reader #hantengu clones x reader #muzan headcanons #kokushibo headcanons #douma headcanons #akaza headcanons #hantengu clones headcanons #x reader #demon slayer anime #demon slayer manga #demon slayer demons #kimetsu no yaiba anime #kimestsu no yaiba manga #uppermoon headcanons