They grip your hips tightly before pile driving their shaft into your throbbing pussy. You immediately arch your back and began moaning as they start pounding your cunt.
They eventually reach their climax and spill their load deep inside your cunt. Before you could get a word in, they smash their lips on top of your and licked your lips.
You tried to shake your head away but they slipped their hand behind your neck to deepen the kiss. When you finally break away, you tried to catch your breath and attempted to wiggle out from underneath them.
The yandere instantly grabbed your hips and pulled you back down underneath him. They tried giving you another passionate kiss but you turned your head away.
In a breathless voice, you said
“Not right now, I need a break.”
They gave you a hard stare as you tried to break yourself free from them. They immediately tightened their grip on you and wrapped your legs around their waist. Before you could protest, they slam their hard cock back into your hole and begin jack hammering your pussy.
You tried to fight it but your toes kept curling and your moans couldn’t be helped. The yandere bent down and began sprinkling kisses on your face as they whispered
Yandere Reiner who uses his Titan Form to kidnap his beloved Reader (Like Beauty and the Beast) this can be before or after their revealed to be traitors to the Survey Corps
Reader has always been sweet, kind, gentle and much smaller and dainty compared to everyone else, especially to Reiner
Reader is female if that’s okay
I am such a Reiner fan it hurts.... I'm even more of a fan of Titan Shifters interacting with their obsession as their Titan.
Reiner knew you were an entirely different creature than him, both literally and and metaphorically. You two aren't meant for each other. You're part of two different worlds...
Yet he still wants you all the same.
You're sweet, kind, gentle... like a sweet little lamb compared to him. You didn't look like you belonged among the cadets or the scouts. But, like many others, you were forced into the role.
No doubt due to his and Bertolt's doing.
Compared to you, Reiner's ruthless, intimidating, rough... a predator, a wolf. Despite such a nature he pretends to be like the rest of you. He pretends to be nice and friendly just like you...
A wolf in sheep wool.
Reiner didn't expect to fall in love with anyone when he came here. He had a mission he had to lead. All that mattered was breaking down the walls.
However, Reiner found himself drawn towards you. You were a cadet just like him, explaining your motives to join with such enthusiasm. You want to help people... you lost so much during the attack in Shiganshina.
You even asked him as cadets to help you train. You looked so determined to slay the beast who ruined your life. You lost so much to the Armored Titan...
You lost so much to him.
Reiner knew it was wrong to love you. You were an Eldian, a young woman trying to make a difference. You had no idea Reiner was the one who took everything from you.
He often scolds himself when he thinks of you fondly. You're a distraction. Plus, if he really loved you, he should leave you alone.
He shouldn't hurt you more than he already has.
Yet despite his attempts to ignore his feelings, you stuck by him. You were completely oblivious to his true nature... He should push you away. Instead... Reiner selfishly allows himself to be in your presence.
You always cared for him, you always clung to him. It never failed to make him feel heated. He enjoyed you so much he tried to delude himself to accept it.
Reiner desperately wanted to see himself as some armored knight for you. He wanted to be seen as your protector. When he was still a cadet and soon a scout... He enjoyed that role.
He loved to protect you... to ignore what he really was.
Unfortunately, Reiner couldn't ignore what he was forever. He's a Warrior, a Titan, a traitor.... He's an armored beast... not some knight.
He's a beast that's completely brought to his knees for one damn girl.
Reiner couldn't play your guardian forever. As much as he wanted to pretend to be yours... to pretend to be like you... He's too different. He isn't like you, won't ever be.
But like any beast... He's selfish.
It was only a matter of time before Reiner and Bertolt were found out. Annie was already caught and hidden away. Reiner knew he and Bertolt were on thin ice.
Once found out... Reiner had no choice but to fulfill the plan he and Bertolt were meant for...
It's been a long three years... it's time to go home.
The moment he was attacked by Mikasa after failing to recruit Eren, Reiner relied on instinct. For the most part he was focused on Eren. However... the eyes of the Armored Titan kept flicking around the battle as Eren tried to restrain him.
He wanted to know where you were...
He just hopes Bertolt didn't hurt you....
By the end of the fight full of punching and biting, Reiner was able to tear through the nape of Eren's Titan. The taste of blood stains his tongue as he does so, the blood immediately steaming upon contact with the air. Upon recovering and ripping Eren away from the steaming flesh, Reiner had one more target.
You.
Poor you attempted to take Eren from him, swinging around his Titan with your ODM gear. Reiner was already aware you were running out of gas and blades. Part of him still didn't want to hurt you...
He's denied himself long enough.
Due to the thick plating of his Titan, you weren't able to pierce his skin. Instead, Reiner tore the hooks you embedded out of his plating before swinging you in front of him. Reiner almost feels... amused when he sees the fear in your eyes as he holds you upside down.
Pity flickers deep within him before he cups you into his hand, shoving you against his chest in a temporary prison. Upon recovering Bertolt and Ymir, Reiner made a break for it. Now... Reiner shouldn't bother hiding himself from you.
He cares little for the amount of gore on his hands and feet. The other Scouts shouldn't matter to him. All he really cares about is you.
Scouts attempt to stop his attempt to flee, but he swats them away. If not, he crushes them to a messy red pulp. Their blood stains his skin... painting him as the monster he is.
It's not the first time he's killed. No, that was with Marco. He doesn't even feel all that bad about it now... that cadet was always too damn friendly with you anyways.
He doesn't deny such a part of himself anymore...
Now you'll know the truth... and you'll love him for who he is...
Eventually.
---
Upon reaching the Giant Forest, Reiner made sure to be careful with you. You were vulnerable in these woods. While Ymir and Eren, the other captives, were Titans... You aren't.
Reiner never left your side since he took you with him. As his body steamed, he watched you unconscious form. He had already broken your ODM gear... you can't run.
You need him.
Reiner viewed you as his beauty. He may be a monster, beast, and Titan... but you're his beauty. He needs you... and now you need him.
He's given up scolding himself. It doesn't matter now. Who cares what you think right now... That can change. In fact... it will change... he just knows it.
It's what's on the inside that counts... but for Reiner, what does that prove? Is he really a monster or just misunderstood? When you wake up... you don't think of such concepts.
You just see a traitor... a murderer... a monster.
Reiner tries to show you he wasn't fully lying to you. He still loves you! In fact, he can't get you out of his head. He just wants you... needs you...!
You've always been his girl.
Yet you slap him away, growling like a cornered animal. You scream that you hate him. That he's a murderer. He's much worse than a traitor in your eyes.
He ruined your home. He killed your family. He pretended to be your friend, to be all buddy buddy after creating tragedy.
He's your enemy. The very Titan that stole everything from you. You couldn't believe it...
Here he was, stealing your life yet again.
Reiner is quiet when you yell at him. He responds to it like a child being scolded by their mother. He's stoic, accepting your words. These are the very same words he said to himself...
Not like it stopped him before.
"What do you even want from me!?" You cry, staring at Reiner in front of you like cornered prey. You look so vulnerable.
You look like you're meant to be his.
"I want you." Reiner states simply, watching you shake like a wounded animal. "I'm taking you home with me... right where you belong as my girl."
You call him crazy. You say he's a crazy and delusional monster. He accepts your comments, he doesn't deny they're true. He is a monster...
A lovesick monster who's willing to kill hundreds with one stomp if it meant he could keep you.
Out of everything in his life, you are the best thing that ever happened to him. Meanwhile, he's the worst thing that's ever happened to you. Yet again you two are opposites.
But you couldn't be more repulsed by him.
There isn't much you can do. You're surrounded by Titans and Eren doesn't look in the condition to shift again. You have no choice but to wait.
You can't do anything but sit and tolerate as Reiner caresses your cheek with an uncharacteristic softness.
"You don't believe I love you, do you?" Reiner whispers, his proximity blasting you with steam. You grimace, looking away despite his hand on your cheek.
"I hate you." You respond back, noticing Reiner's grip tighten for a moment.
"I... know you do." Reiner begrudgingly admits before gripping your shoulder. "But you'll learn I had no choice."
"You ruined my life... twice!" You yell, only for Reiner to shove you into his chest.
"Let me make it better, then." Reiner murmurs, pressing a kiss to your scalp. "Let me show you you're all that matters... That you're my beauty... My girl...."
"You're a brutal beast...!" You snarl, only for Reiner to cover your mouth.
"I know I am..." Reiner admits before leaning closer. "But I don't care... as long as I'm yours, I could care less what I am... just be mine."
"I would never." You seethe, Reiner seems to ignore what you said in order to pull you closer.
"You will." Reiner rebuts. "You will be mine and you won't have to worry about another Titan other than me ever again...."
You can argue all you want, nothing's going to shatter Reiner's little fairy-tale.
He'll take you home... get a house for you both... then live with you as his little wife...
He's a beast... yet you're his beauty... and he plans to get his happily ever after.
It ain’t real cherry, but you still lick the wrapper
pairing: Makima x fem!reader
nsfw: vaginal fingering, gore, death, manipulation, mind control, non-con
wc: 4k
author's note: Happy Halloween <3
description: Unable to get this woman off your mind, you resort to drastic measures
“It’s done.”
The man in front of you steeples his fingers, thick, hairy forearms making a triangle as his elbows rest on the desk that separates you. His eyes flick over your face, searching for an expression of relief, and when he can’t find a trace of one, he asks, “Are you not grateful for all of my hard work?”
“No, I am. I’m very grateful,” you hurry out, “I’m just…just trying to process it all.”
The story he's telling you—that she was shot in the back of the head this morning while on the train to work—is hard to believe. Such an unceremonious, mortal end for this mythical woman keeps this reported reality suspended in the air, unable to sink in.
“Well, whether you process it or not, you remember our deal, right?” The man glances down to the small section of your collarbone that your conservative neckline exposes.
There’s not much a mob boss could want because, with the gun devil on his side, he could bend most of civilization to his will. So, there was only one unique thing you could leverage in return for an assassination.
“I haven’t forgotten,” you say. “But…right now? Here?” The large, curtainless window to your right provides access to the beautiful city skyline, but also allows those populating the city’s towers a view of you in return. Looking around, you realize you’re close to the Public Safety Office, closer than you thought. You don’t want to think about how your co-workers will react once they hear of your boss’ death. Even worse is if they see how you’re about to pay to have made it happen.
“Right here. Right now,” he decides, and you press your lips together and swallow harshly. You knew what the trade off would be to get her out of your head, knew you were willing to do anything, so you’ll just have to accept your fate.
The man walks over to the small bar cart and pours two glasses of scotch. While taking a sip of his own, he extends the other glass. “To loosen you up, nervous girl.”
“Hah. Thanks.” You take the heavy glass in your hand and choke down the burning liquid in one big gulp. Hopefully it’ll make this easier.
With that in order, he gestures to your sweater, and you cross your arms over each other and dip your fingers under the hemline, childishly waiting a second for him to say nevermind, you don’t have to do this. But he doesn’t, so you pull the sweater up over your head and place it in a pile on the top of his wooden desk. You try to put the open window out of your mind.
“Very nice,” he says, chuckling, “I like what I see.” His gaze has an uncomfortable weight to it, and the way his eyes crawl over you makes you want to wrap your arms around yourself and cover up your exposed skin.
He takes a step towards you and after one big swig places his scotch on the desk next to your sweater. You force your body to keep still, to not flinch away when his big palm lands on your shoulder, giving it a rub before traveling down to your chest to your bra, squeezing your right breast in his palm.
“Time for this to come off too,” he says, grinning. You force a smile back, avoiding eye contact with the outline forming in his pants.
Your hands go around your back, fiddling with the fastening of your bra, and with one clasp left to undo you’re interrupted by the shrill ring of a landline.
The man swears, muttering that no one should be bothering him as he walks back around the desk and answers the phone.
“What?” he says gruffly. “Huh? Slow down—slow down I said—you’re not making any sense—she’s what?—but that’s—what?…hello?…hello?”
He waits a few more moments, listening, before putting the phone down. You place your hands in your lap, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. “Is everything okay?” you ask.
He walks over to the window, his hand on his head. “I think…I think it’s best if you leave,” he says.
A calm voice from behind you says, “I hope this isn’t on my account.”
Your breath catches, choking your throat up. The owner of that voice is supposed to be dead.
You turn, slowly and mechanically, from the shell-shocked man by the window to the door, and you see the face you’ve seen too much for one lifetime. It’s Makima, standing in the doorway of the office, covered in blood.
“No…no…” you mumble, your fingers digging into your collarbone.
“It’s all right, it’s not mine,” she reassures, gesturing to her stained clothing.
“How did you get in here?” the mobster cries. “Where are my men?”
“They were kind enough to lead me right to you,” she answers, “Though I believe they now regret attempting to follow through on their boss’ orders.”
Fingers knot into your insides, squeezing your heart so tight every beat that radiates through your body is painful. You thought this was over, thought you were free.
Makima shuts the door behind her and looks down to you, still frozen in the seat of your chair. “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with him now. Please close your eyes.”
“What? Wait, don’t—” you gasp out, but she steps forward and places her slender fingers over your face anyway.
The man makes a strangled noise. “What…what are you…?” he chokes out. The question goes unanswered and his body thuds to the ground. When she removes her hand, you don’t open your eyes, this time of your own volition.
She hums, and another strange noise comes from the body, like the crushing of fleshy insides. Then she puts her hand on the back of your head, petting you in a gesture she must think is soothing. “It’s okay now, he’s gone.”
Gone, the only lifeline you had out of this, gone. There’s no one else you’re able to turn to; the henchmen of the gun devil, the most feared devil after the chainsaw devil, were the only people who could get rid of her. Though, those who tried are dead now. They have that in common with your hope of being released from your role as Makima’s plaything.
You open your eyes, fixing them on the corner of the desk in front of you. You don’t see the man anymore.
“It wasn’t very nice of you to try to get me killed,” she says, like she’s scolding a child. “And with the gun devil? You think that lowly of me?”
Her petting pauses, waiting for an answer.
You can’t get one out. “I–I…” There’s a puddle of blood spreading across the floor by the window.
“It’s all right, I’ll forgive you.” She turns your chair around effortlessly, forcing your gaze upon her glowing eyes. “This time.” She smiles.
Voice breathy, you ask, “What–what do you want from me?”
Makima places her hands on the arms of the chair and leans over you, claiming every inch of distance separating your bodies. You recede into the chair as far as you can, shaking. “I think that should be obvious by now,” she says.
“I don’t…” No, you can’t. You can’t do this again.
She moves into the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale, and then sighs from the pleasure of your scent. “I don’t enjoy it when you play coy. Or when you act as if you do not like this as much as I do.” She combs your hair away from your face. “But I can’t get upset, you’re just so cute, my little hunter.”
Hunter. How you hate that word. How you hate your job—forced to live in fear of torture and death at the hands of devils. It was what your contract required: you either worked at the Public Safety Department killing devils or be executed as a traitor to the country. Not much of a choice at all. And you don’t even know how this happened. It was as simple as it was terrifying—you woke up one day contracted to a devil, the spider devil Princi. It was the day after that freak accident in the alley by your apartment. The day after you met Makima.
You retort, “I’m not your–”
But then her lips graze your neck, and your voice stops in your throat. Softly, gently, they roam up and down your rapid pulse point. Your stomach drops, because then it lights up within you, that frighteningly familiar warm sensation that begins to pour through your body. It’s like an initial stream of lava slowly rolling down the side of a volcano, a warning that there’s much more to still come.
No, it’s happening. She’s doing it again.
Your head rolls to the side, exposing more of your neck to her, and you let out a shaky breath as she crawls onto the chair, straddling your lap.
“There’s my good girl, letting me in,” she whispers before suckling on your neck, harsh enough to leave a bruise. The violence is lost on you, your arms circling around her waist, pulling her in tighter, wanting more.
You’ve got to get her off–
Makima’s arms lock around your shoulders, pulling you in tight so her breasts press up against yours, soft, warm. She nips at your neck again, drawing out a quiet moan from your throat.
It’s something about her, something that’s making you lose control.
Her fingers dip under your bra straps, slipping them off your shoulders. When she reaches behind your back and unclips your bra, there’s no embarrassment, no desire to cover up, and the garment falls to the side of the chair.
It’s been like this every time, something in your brain just goes slack when she asks anything of you, even worse when she touches you.
Makima kisses your neck one more time before her hands travel down to your chest.
You’re pretty sure that the first time it happened was the evening you stayed late to help her finish some reports. You don’t remember agreeing to help or actually working on any of the reports, just that you left her office with your underwear in your hand.
Makima runs her palms over your breasts, your nipples piquing up to meet her enticing touch.
That night hammered a tiny crack into your psyche, giving rise to insufferable symptoms you’ve had to live with ever since. The next few days after that night, every single thought that passed through your mind was about her.
She hums before leaning down to press wet kisses to your chest, fanning the flames licking up the sides of your stomach.
There were so many long, painful nights after you met Makima. You’d lie awake, your once comfortable bed hard as a rock, pouring over the small interactions you had with your boss that day.
Her tongue rolls over your nipple while her hand kneads your other breast.
There was nothing more important to pay attention to—often you were forgetting your own needs, going days without anything to eat or drink. You tried setting reminders for yourself, but lightheadedness and fatigue still became daily occurrences.
Makima’s touch travels down to your hips, her thumb circling over the bone as she leaves a few more dark marks on your clavicle.
It terrified you, these intense, foreign thoughts banging around your head, evicting your own consciousness from your brain. It was unbearable, you were getting sick every other night, throwing up in the toilet from just how much you missed a woman that you haven’t even had dinner with.
She moves from your collarbone and gently bites your shoulder, next licking and kissing the indentations of her teeth in your skin.
It wasn’t healthy. But therapy didn’t help, your friends laughed it off, and you could never mention it to your parents.
Lightly dragging her nails down your shoulders to your hands, Makima slinks to the ground in front of your chair, spreading your legs and pushing your skirt up.
You felt like you were going crazy.
She hums as she removes your underwear, revealing a glittering mess between your legs.
It eased up a few days after the evening you stayed late, though the thoughts never truly subsided. They’d ebb and flow, worsened after a noticeable gap in your memory. It didn’t make any sense, like you were living in a nightmare rather than reality.
Makima thumbs over your folds, drawing out a sharp hiss as she slips closer to your aching hole.
It was one harmless comment from Aki, a co-worker contracted with the fox devil, that revealed everything to you.
“Yeah, Princi will do just about anything Makima tells her to. It’s like she’s under a spell or something.”
A spell? What a strange way to put it.
Unless it’s not strange at all, rather, a reasonable, accurate way of describing it.
A spell. It all became clear. You’d been pondering any type of natural explanation for these maddening symptoms, but it’s possible there never was one. You were the victim of a supernatural influence…which can only be the work of a devil.
And it wasn’t only you, and not just Princi, the spider-devil you magically became contracted to—certainly Makima’s doing—it was everyone that’s under Makima’s spell.
It was some kind of power, a way she could get everyone to do her bidding. She’s been able to talk you and your co-workers into doing anything, and you weren’t the only one with strong feelings for her: you rivaled Aki, Denji, and a few others who’ve proclaimed their love.
Makima had completely infiltrated your mind. It’s why you wanted her dead.
She pushes her fingers inside your aching hole, slipping right in with no resistance from your body.
You exhale a curse that brings a smirk to her face. She knows this feels good, whether you want it to or not. So she gives you more, dancing her fingers in and out of your core, intent on provoking the primal way your body reacts to her.
Your hips buck and twitch with every strong curl of her fingers, body unable to resist the way the pads of her fingertips stroke every weak point of your canal in a meticulous assault.
“You wanted to say goodbye to this?” she taunts, tilting her head and drinking in your expression as your face contorts.
“Fuck…you,” you grit out, “This isn’t right. This isn’t me.”
“If not you, then who’s currently soaking my fingers?” she responds, with a pointed thrust that has your hand flying out to grab onto her shoulder. The strength in your grip does little to faze her.
“It’s not real.” you cry out, a desperation for your words to be true underlining your voice. “I know what you are.”
“Oh?” She seems amused by the contrast of your verbal combativeness and the way your body writhes beneath her. How your hand has moved from her shoulder to encircle her wrist in a tight grasp, but makes no effort to pull it away.
“And who would that be?” Her glowing eyes flare as they narrow in on you. It sends a wave of ice through your body until the next curl of her fingers heats it up again. You groan, finding it harder to follow your train of thought with the incessant rhythm of pleasure pounding through your body.
“You’re the control devil. One of the four horsemen.”
She’s unaffected, her soft smile never faltering, but her movements pause. “What makes you say that?”
With a respite, it’s easier to make your argument. “I’ve seen it. Everyone at work does anything you say, and they’re all in love with you. But a fucked up kind of love, obsessive. Like me, it’s an obsession when it comes to you. I feel fucking crazy.”
“How sweet,” she croons, placing a kiss on your inner thigh, “I like you very much as well.”
You try to pull your thigh away, but she keeps it locked in place. “No, this isn’t—it’s not real. Because these emotions are what you want me to feel. The book—the book in the office library—it says the control devil can manipulate a person’s thoughts and emotions.”
Her jaw tightens and she sits back on her feet. “I wonder how that book re-appeared,” she notes rigidly. Then she sighs, “No matter, I’m sure I’ll work it out.” Makima looks back up to your face. “After I’m through with you.”
You shudder and her hands find their way back to your thighs, fingertips skimming over your goosebump-ridden flesh. “It’s fascinating that you think I ever used my powers on you,” she says.
It’s true then, she’s the control devil. But she’s denying her role in your spiraling sanity.
“I’ve never, ever felt like this before. Never been so crazy or intense about someone, it’s not normal,” you argue, wincing as she reinserts herself. “You’re controlling me—it's the only explanation.”
“Am I?” Makima asks, curling her fingers again, “Or is it that you respond?”
Your eyes flutter and your hips instinctively grind against her hand. Fuck, you can’t focus when she touches you like that.
“You’re certain I’m making you like this?” she asks. Your hand reaches for the one on your thigh, holding onto it while she pumps in and out if you. “Or…are you actually enjoying this as much as you seem to?”
She’s making your head hurt. It’s her fault…right? She’s the one that’s manipulating your feelings, it’s her that’s implanting ones you’d never normally feel, and exacerbating their intensity with a flick of her fingers. It’s not you, it’s her.
And yet it’s your body that’s building up to a peak, one that you can’t stop yourself from reaching, one that you know will redefine the foundation of your world once more. You tried to have her killed—to protect yourself from her influence—and she’s still about to make you come.
It makes you wonder how much is her fault and how much is yours.
You had a bit of a crush on her before you really knew her. She was so nice to you when you first met, made you feel like there was someone in your corner during such a hard transition. She even bought you lunch a few times, your favorite meal.
You can’t quite remember how it even got to this point. Trying to kill her? Taking it to that level? You wonder if you were overreacting. Really, she’s nothing but nice to you.
And she makes you feel so good. So good you can’t stand it. Can’t stand her? No, can’t stand being away from her. God, this is all so confusing. Better to not think so hard.
You look down to her. It’s that same smile. She’s got you.
“Damnit,” you hiss.
“Mhmm,” she agrees.
Then your hips jolt. Several waves of unadulterated bliss course through your body, surging through your spine so fiercely that your back arches up off the chair. Your free hand clings to the desk behind you, trying to keep you from falling off the chair as you endure the orgasm.
Your eyebrows press together and your mouth drops open in a silenced scream. Pleasure pounds through your body, beating against every part like a stick to a drum.
“Fuck,” you say, digging your fingers into Makima’s wrist, “Feels so…oh my god.”
“Doing so good,” she coos, and you can only whine back, voice cracked and dry.
Makima pulls your closer, hand snaking around your waist so it’s supporting your curved lower back, pulling you into her fingers that pump in and out of you. There’s no escape, her assault on your core is merciless, even if you’re hanging onto the edge.
God, you need a break, need this orgasm to end. You call out her name, begging for a reprieve.
Makima doesn’t stop her motions, and her fingers drag against your sensitive walls. You go to pull her hand away, to end the overstimulation.
And then you feel it, a sudden, tingling buzzing in your lower back, pushing closer and closer to your core. Your first one has barely finished, scattered sparks still rocketing through your body. Makima doesn’t care, she’s intent on pushing you to your limit—breaking you.
“I can’t…oh my…mm’god I can’t–” you say, twitching and groaning as your hole throbs around Makima’s working fingers, already spent.
“You can,” she replies, her eyes glowing once more, “and you will.”
“Shit–Makima,” you moan, the feeling re-approaching your core, building in intensity. It’s like being caught under a violent wave, coming up out of the ocean half-drowned, and rubbing the salt out of your eyes to see an even bigger, fiercer wave towering over you.
Terrified or not, the wave crashes down, and there’s nothing you can do but try to hold on to the seafloor.
“Fucking–shit–Makima oh my god,” you cry out, eyes pressing shut. You’re shaking, shifting around in the chair but her hands keep you pinned in place. You catch a glimpse of her in your struggle—she just watches you, smiling.
“Ah,” you cry out. The sensation is flooding through your body, splintering out to reach every nerve in your core, your torso, and then your arms and legs. The experience is overwhelming, your body is being made a vessel to handle a voltage it can’t endure.
You heave and you jolt but you can’t fight the feeling out of you, it’s entrenching itself into your muscle fibers and bones. The heat has creeped up your spine, making your head even dizzier.
Your voice reverberates through your throat, but nothing intelligible comes out. It takes two more attempts at communication to realize that the only thing you can say is her name.
So you repeat it, over and over like it’s a language.
“M–Makima…Makima….Ma-kima…”
Your vision is white and you can’t feel the chair underneath you. Makima grabs your face, her voice is echoing through you, but you can’t really hear any of it.
“Yes,” you respond, but you don’t know how, you never tried to say it.
Then the wave recedes, color seeping back into your eyes, and the deep pressure of your orgasm slowly decompresses from your lower body.
You fall limp in the chair, muscles exhausted and unable to move. Your body aches and your mind flickers on and off like a broken lightbulb.
“That’s a good girl,” Makima coos, stroking the sides of your thighs. Your eyelids are struggling to stay up, but you’re able to meet her gaze. The most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen is smiling softly at you.
You’re so tired. Depleted in all facets. There’s no will to fight…though you can’t remember what you’d even fight her for. All you want right now is the comfort she can provide.
You reach your shaking arms down to her wrists and guide her back up, bringing her face close to yours. She places her palms on your cheeks, cradling your face as she whispers how strong you are, how good you did for her, everything you want to hear after enduring such an intense experience. It fills your heart with a gentle warmth, a desire for her to be nestled within you, to stay with you forever.
So you draw her in, placing a soft, affectionate kiss on her lips. She kisses you back gently, fanning the warm, comfortable hearth constructed in your chest.
When she leans back, she sighs softly. “I’m so glad you’ve come back to me, my little hunter.”
You smile and let out a breathy hum, “Mhmm, me too.”
“Hunny… You know how much I hate it when you hide from me.” His head popped from around the corner. You’ve been trying to find a way out of this stupid house for about 4 hours now. It’s almost like a Resident Evil game because of how you need to be stealthy to evade him.
You hear his footsteps fade and you crawl out from your hiding spot into the open. There were his keys on the counter. The key to the front door was there if you remembered correctly.
However you clearly hadn’t anticipated the fact that within the 4 hours you were hiding from him he PADLOCKED THE DOOR. 7 TIMES. You were frozen in shock at the sight. There’s no way you're getting out of there..
“You know,” His hand rested on your shoulder as he leaned in to speak in your ear. “If 20 years together, and my undivided loyalty and love isn’t enough to keep you here. Then I’m sure 7 locks would have to make do for now.” His arms snaked around your mid section into a tight embrace. “Don’t you dare try to leave me again sweetheart. I hate it when you hide from me.”
He grabbed you and hoisted you over his shoulder as he carried you back over to your room. No matter how hard you pounded onto his back his grip wouldn’t let up.
He placed you onto the bed like you're made of glass and laid down in between your legs. His head rested on your lower abdomen and he held onto one of your legs. His hand found yours and entangled your fingers together.
“Don’t you see? We fit together perfectly. Please never leave me. Without you I’d die..”
୨୧ ⏔⏔⏔⏔♡⏔⏔⏔⏔ ୨୧ ୨୧ ⏔⏔⏔⏔♡⏔⏔⏔⏔
Fandom list is coming soon!!! Also lmk how we feel about the new part!
//fem reader, noncon, forced captivity, yandere elements
//anthropomorphised dog sex characteristics/mating behaviors, some inaccurate (yes I know), biting
//potential bodies of water/drowning related triggers
I watched a dog mating video targeted to dog breeders for this. Sigh.
—–
This would be the largest body of water you’d waded through thus far. Just looking out at the surface made you feel uneasy.
Not to mention, the others up to this point were mere ankle-depth creeks where rainwater ran downward towards the ocean. Thus, they were easily traversed, whereas now, with this being a wider strip where the tide of the ocean itself had formed a pool, the water level deepened with each step. You grasped the hem of your clothing and pulled it up to avoid getting it wet as you took the first steps.
You had not considered nor anticipated, during your strategizing, the incredibly unnerving aspect of running through bodies of water at night meaning that you could not even begin to see the bottom, nor your feet. It was wading through pure blackness to your eyes, only disturbed by white streaks where moonlight refracted off the surface. It made your stomach twist with unease, but you supposed it was all the more reason to get through it quickly. You cringed as you stepped on something firm in the sand, but unidentifiable.
The tiny sliver of moon was not helping to make this process any easier. You chastised yourself for not thinking about that, either, when you were planning. A full moon, a brighter sky, would have been very appreciated, but you were stuck with only the faint light of stars, leaving the landscape before you much more difficult for your human eyes to take in.
The wooden bridge over to your side was tempting, and certainly would have been more pleasant than wading through the dark waters, but this was a necessary move. That, at least, was an aspect of your escape that you’d thought through before setting out. You’d read before that people in escape scenarios often waded through water to throw off their scent, which prevented dogs from following their trail and… well, it was applicable to you as well, so you applied the same advice.
Except actual dogs were likely not smart enough to consider the fact that their target would have simply crossed the water, and that if they simply traversed to the other side, they could likely pick the scent back up again. Human intelligence was the unfortunate part that you had to take into account.
Thus, begrudgingly, you had made the decision to go through as many shallow bodies of water as you could while on your way to the village to the south of Watatsumi. Likewise, equally unfortunately, you also had to consider that following the road would be far too obvious, yet you needed it for guidance. Thus, you’d been occasionally taking detours to walk a ways away from the road, loop around a few times, and return before continuing from a spot further down the road. While it cost precious time, you had determined that it was also a necessary move.
Hopefully – you pleaded with whatever higher power watched over you – that would be enough.
At your current pace, you could reach the village by morning, and from there the plan was to beg one of the fishermen there to boat you over to another island. It was, quite literally, the only real option you had, besides attempting to swim across the ocean or stealing a rowboat.
As you continued in carefully traversing the waters, you felt the chill gradually rise up to your knees, over them, and up to the middle of your thighs. After taking a few more steps, though, it seemed to have evened out. That was good. In which case–
But as you stepped forward once again, your foot found no surface to rest upon. You felt yourself stumble, your eyes instinctively closed as your body plunged downward. Your ears were filled with the unique low, hollow sound beneath the surface of water, and your body was overtaken with intense cold. It was so sudden and disorienting that, for a moment, you felt frozen stiff in confusion and shock.
Hands frantically scrabbled at the other side of the bathroom door behind you. You had just seen your closest friend, the one guy who's been there for you your entire life in the back of an alleyway. His hands bloodied with your ex beaten half to death in his arms.
“C’mon sweetie please open the door. ___-ie sweetie hunny baby please please please. I promise you I’d never hurt you.” He desperately begged from the other side. His voice was shaky as was his entire body. “Please- Let me in ___! It was a mistake I swear! He- He deserved it!” He almost started clawing at the bathroom door.
You were still in shock though. Your body pressed against the locked door trying to further barricade it. How could he do what he did? To nearly take the life of another person.. It’s disgusting.
Suddenly the sound outside the door went deathly silent. His frantic pleas stopped along with his desperate hands scratching at the door like a cat.
“____.” His voice was low and dangerously soft. “Open the fucking door. We don’t need to fight anymore.” The sound ran a chill down your spine. You’d never heard him speak like that to anyone.
You however were frozen entirely from fear. Hot tears streamed down your face like a river and you were shivering like a wet dog. You wanted to scream at him, to convince him to leave you alone and not hurt you. But your voice caught in your throat.
The sound of a drill broke through your thoughts. The screws on the door started turning one by one. Soon after the door disappeared from the doorway. You had nothing to defend yourself. As you backed away from him you could still see blood on his hands and a crazed look in his eyes.
He stalked forward to the point where he had you backed up into a wall. His hands came up to cup your face to force you to maintain eye contact with him.
“Darling, it’s okay. It’s only me. I’m no threat.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. The same way he used to whenever he’d comfort you but now it’s not comforting. The blood staining his hands feels so unnerving and unbearable on your cheeks. The way he looks at you with his own twisted version of love visible in his eyes. It’s not comforting, it’s terrifying.
“Step away from the window and come back to sleep. Don’t make me come and get you.”
“What are you doing?”
The moon was big and bright, shining down in the N109 Zone as if it were the light that sustained all. Surrounded by the darkness of the bedroom—your prison—it was a shimmer of kindness, caressing you through reinforced windows you wished to break out from.
“Step away from the window and come back to sleep.”
Sylus sounded as if he had just woken up, yet he was alert.
“Don’t make me come and get you.”
And you didn’t, despite the shivers, you returned to his side, shrouded in satin and possession, escaping only in your dreams.
hi :) was douma serious about turning his petal into a demon or he just said that to scare her? :o
Hello!
Doma was serious.
He wants to spend his life with his pretty petal and the life of a human is short, fragile even. Any wrong move from his end can result in her leaving him forever.
To prevent her from leaving him too soon, he wants to give her the gift of immortality.
However, before he turns her into a demon, he wants to have children with her. It's a secret desire he always had.
We know a demon and a human can have offspring, but two demons having their own children is unknown I believe.
✦✦✦ ✦✦✦
"My pretty [Name], my sweet petal, soon we'll be together forever," Doma coos with a grin, grasping your shoulder and pulling you close to him. Yet you remained still, staring up fearfully at the demon king as he glared down at you, looking down quickly.
Muzan considered Doma's request in transforming his wife into a demon as Doma has been one of his most promising and powerful demons yet. Though, he needed to see who he was going to give his blood to before he did anything.
In short, he was disappointed in who Doma presented to him.
A heavily pregnant woman who seemed like a dainty doll compared to Doma’s tall stature. She avoided his gaze as soon as she saw him, wilting in her spot as her hand immediately covered her swollen stomach. If he can recall, Doma told Muzan this would be their fifth child.
There didn't seem to be anything special about her and now, he began regretting his decision to see you. But, he did need more demons and he never turned anyone with a child inside them before. Perhaps, this could be the step he needs to achieve his goal of sun immunity.
With a hum, Muzan's voice boomed throughout the void of countless rooms, "Are you positive this is the path you want to take, Doma? Once I turn her, you can't undo my action and there is no promise your unborn child will be unaffected afterwards."
"Yes, I'm sure, master!" Doma states cheerfully, squeezing your shoulder and letting his hand travel down, slipping through the small opening between your arm and torso, gently rubbing circles on your stomach. His soft touch made you flinch, but he ignored it. He peered down at you with creased eyes, absolute joy consuming him. "Ah, I can't wait. Soon, our dream will come true!"
"This... this is not my dream," you choke out quietly, the nauseating feeling clawing in your throat as the situation dawns on you. The grim reminder made you want to scream, that he only wants you by his side no matter the cost, even if it meant losing your unborn child in the process. Though he forced this situation on you, you still loved the life growing inside you, the lives you gave birth too, and the ones that will come as time goes on.
Was this God's twisted way of making you suffer and pay for your past sins? Loving the children of the monster who forced you to marry him? Or was this Satan's delight? Making you live an eternity with one of his devils?
Your eyes begin to water and you look back at your husband, hyperventilating with every word you spoke. "I... I don't want to be a demon...!"
"Hm? Why not? Being a demon means we can be together forever, my petal!" Doma laughs, wrapping both his arms around you and pulling you into his chest, humming happily as he rests his chest atop your head. "You'll see, you'll love it. And when our children are old enough, they can join us! Then we can be a happy family till the end of time!"
"No, no, no! I don't want this!" You cry, trying to break free from his grasp. He tightens his hold but you still squirm. "Doma, please let me go!"
The demon growls and you freeze. "I know what's best for you, [Name]. You should trust your husband more and be my good, little obedient wife, okay? I don't want to hurt you when you're carrying our baby..."
His words created a rope around your neck, forcing you into a mental corner as every word carried a sharp edge into your mind. Your voice died in your throat, frowning and choking out sobs. There really was no winning this — either way, you would be forced to spend your life with this demon. With the little strength you had left, you whimper, "Doma, please..."
"I said," Doma digs his claws into your hips, voice low as he spat out, "I know what's best for you, my pretty wife."
Doma lowers his head near your ear, hot breath fanning your skin. "I love you oh so very much, [Name], and I'm trying to prove it. Master Muzan is willing to help us," Doma hisses with a cheerful tone, you would almost think he's teasing you - yet you knew better. His claws graze your stomach, pinching your skin with how he applies pressure. Your heart drops. "But you're being very disobedient right now, my petal, and I'm being very patient considering your state at the moment. Don't make me punish you in front of master, okay?"
He's met with silence and he hums. Doma releases you and turns you around to face him, his alluring, sharp smile making you let out a whimper. He squeezes your shoulders and suddenly, his face lights up, the same way when he looks at you.
You never noticed Muzan approach you, only when his fingers wrapped themselves around the back of your neck did you realize. Tears slipped from your eyes and dripped from your chin, falling onto your stomach. His chuckle makes you freeze. A wave of fear washes over you as his nails brush against the sash of your kimono, pinching the obijime between his fingers. He leans down to your ear and whispers,
He's willing to ask his master to make sure your love lasts for an eternity.
But he's also willing to make you bleed and make you sacrifice in order to achieve it.
Don't worry though, he won't let you die.
All he'll do is keep you in your own personal hell — breeding you to his heart's content, making you bear his children, and worshiping your body every day and night. It'll only make you wish you were dead.
As long as you listen to your loyal husband and be a little, dutiful wife, the rest of your life will sail smoothly and before you know it, you might even love Doma.
A.N.: I've been gone for a whole huh? Sorry about that. But I'm gonna try to update what I do have in my drafts and just... post those. Sorry for the wait! I'll explain more in a seperate post.
Anyway... yeah, we're into tiddy milk now.
◇◇◇◇
His love looked so beautiful feeding their child.
Nursing the very life he dreamed of for centuries, yearned for the moment he laid eyes on you, wished for once he had you in his grasp.
Yes, Doma was very happy.
Doma watched from the doorway with a smile of content, eyes crinkling in the corner from how wide his mouth stretched across his face. He takes in the heart-warming scene of your third-born in your arms, suckling and drinking the milk of their mother. You didn't seem to notice him, however, as you were too focused on how peaceful and adorable your daughter looked. Like a scene from a book — innocent and tender. Even if she looked like a spitting image of her father — like her brothers — you couldn't hide your own smile from gracing your tired features nor ignore the blooming love for your newest child.
Raising your hand, you brush away the stray strand of blonde hair from her face, gently stroking her chubby cheek with the pads of your fingers. You hum the moment she starts to whimper against your skin, adjusting your arm and balancing her little head, seeing how the milk began to bubble at the corner of her mouth. She pulls away, her face scrunching up whilst she begins to whine, closing her fist around your kimono, her bottom lip trembling.
You giggle to yourself. "Shh, honey, you're okay…," you mutter, bouncing her a bit, adjusting your hold as she begins to quiet down. Stroking her head, you whisper sweet nothings to her. Slowly, she latched back onto your breast, quieting down with small hiccups here and there. Not a second later she begins to suck weakly once again, now calm. A chuckle leaves you. Even after birthing twins, you couldn't help but be amused at how easily a baby was satisfied sometimes.
Your daughter was no different, but you didn't mind. As long as it kept Doma away from you, you were willing to dote on your children. Some part of you felt shame and guilt for feeling this way, using your children as some sort of escape from your husband. Don't get me wrong, you love your children dearly, but there were times you wished you had them under different, better circumstances.
Never did you imagine your life going this way.
Sometimes you wondered if you did marry the wealthy merchant from your past — would you be happier? Or more miserable? All you could do was think and rack your head for an answer, because no matter how hard you tried, Doma had already tainted your mind and the only answer you reached was that it didn’t matter. In one way or another, a man like Doma would come along sooner or later…
That was the answer… and you didn’t like it.
Because that meant if you ever got a second chance, that no matter how hard you tried, Doma was your future. And you couldn’t escape that.
As he watched you nurse, Doma couldn't ignore the heat forming in his chest, nor pay no attention to how the sight made his stomach churn and heart race. He shouldn't feel this way about watching his own child feed. No, but that didn't seem right. No, no, that was not it.
It was watching you; imagining himself with you in such a position.
Slowly did his mind begin to warp the very scene before him, picturing himself nursing on your soft supple breasts, mouth encasing over your buds and feasting on the milk meant for his child. Oh, the very thought seemed to grow the warmth that overtook his body, growing hotter and hotter until he seemed to be burning. Blood rushed to every part of him, eyes dilating as his gaze stayed glued to your chest. With a dopey smile, he giggles quietly in glee and walks off, still thinking about the new fantasy his mind conjured.
Tonight, he found himself looking forward to a new fascination to drag you into, a new vigor fueling him to have more of you.
Doma called forward a follower, the same one assigned to look after you and his children's meals. An old fellow who treated the demon’s family with the utmost care, he decided the man would be the best choice to watch after his beloveds’ diet. It did help that the man had been a farmer before joining the cult, so he was the perfect person to go to. With a gleeful tone, Doma asks, "What herbs are within our possession that increase the production of breast milk?"
"Excuse me?” The old man said in surprise, face flushing red as he processed the question. However, he quickly composed himself as he realized whom he was speaking to. Clearing his throat, he nearly choked out his next words, both curious and fearful to know why on earth the certain herbs were needed. “Is something wrong with Lady [Name], my lord…?”
“None of your business. You heard me. What herbs do we have that increase the production of breast milk?”
“Mm-ah, u..unfortunately, none, Lord Doma…"
Doma growled in annoyance and narrowed his eyes, sneering at the old man. "Is there any within the area?" He asks with a more harsher tone, getting restless in his seat.
The old man flinched and nodded his head, shaking as he looked to the floor, avoiding the demon’s burning gaze. "Goat's Rue and Fenugreek are said to be sold in a nearby village. I believe a patch of shatavari plants grow around the temple. All of them have a reputation of increasing fertility and milk production…"
Doma perked up at the mention of the last herb and hummed in delight. Though his original intentions were for his own fascination, the added benefit of increasing your fertility to give him another child was absolutely perfect. "Haha, excellent!” the demon chirped, clasping his hands together. “I want you to get a hold of them by tomorrow morning! My wife will need them for… personal matters."
••••
The very next day, the herbs were presented to Doma and a new light flickered in his colorful gaze. His fantasy was just a drink away and he couldn’t wait.
Like clockwork, Doma had the follower add the herbs to your tea every morning and every night, wanting to speed up the process. Though he became impatient throughout the next few days, the time eventually came for Doma to act out his plan. And god, was it worth the wait.
It started with seeing your chest looking fuller and firmer, listening to you whine about the back pain, and hearing from your assigned followers about how you’re now producing too much milk for your poor child. They even commented it was enough to feed all the children at least three times.
That’s all the man needed to know.
Doma surprised you one night when you finished the daily feeding of your daughter, catching you off-guard when you sat on the bed after putting your child in their crib.
It took nearly an hour to put her to sleep, but with a full belly and a lullaby, your youngest fell asleep into a deep slumber and wouldn’t wake you through the night. You, on the other hand, needed to close your eyes and take a break before your husband came back. Lord knows what mood he’ll get into if you don’t greet him when he arrives, but you didn’t want to find out.
Not again.
Doma watched with bated breath through the slit of the paper door, seeing you swing your legs onto the sheets and lay back, sighing in content. Without another second to waste, he straightens up and laughs loudly.
“[Name]...!” Doma sang, walking through the doorway with a sickly sweet smile. You froze in your spot, surprised to see him back before midnight. You cross your arm over your chest, face heating up as you look up to his towering form. No, no, no, not tonight! You were still recovering from last time Doma had his way with you! The scars were still new and hell, you couldn’t move without feeling your muscles scream for you to stop.
But Doma didn’t care if you were hurt by him. Afterall, this was his way of showing his love for you. “Awe, don’t hide yourself from me, petal!” Doma whines, striding to the bed and practically throwing himself onto the sheets. "Pretty petal, I want to taste mommy too!" Doma beamed, crawling over to your form, leaving you no time to fully cover your chest. He giggled, stretching himself across your body, swallowing your small frame with his giant body, and burying his face in between the soft mounds of flesh. He rested his chin on your sternum, a gleeful smile gracing his features as he looked up to you. “A little bird told me you were in pain from so much milk in your breasts, [Name]! And as your husband, it’s my duty to help my wife with her problem!”
“Doma, n-no,” you mutter, squirming from underneath him. “N-no, please, not tonight…! I’m okay — nothing I can’t handle!” You desperately tried to convince him that you’re not in pain, even as your back throbbed and begged for relief. Yet it's nothing but wishful thinking if you thought Doma would ever take no for an answer.
The demon rubbed his cheek against your smooth skin, humming, almost as if what you said didn’t phase him. “Mm, you don’t have to lie to me, petal… I’m more than happy to help you out — it’s been my dream to know how you taste without needing to scar your skin, how you taste now that you have bore me my children…”
Your blood ran cold and you looked at him in horror. Was he implying…. What you think he was?
Doma continued, nearing one of your nipples with a watering mouth, running his tongue over his lips.“And now, I finally have the chance to know… and I know you’ll be a good wife and let your husband help – right?”
“I… I don’t know…”
He lets out an exasperated sigh. “We can do this without waking up our daughter, and you’ll let me taste you… or we do this and show our child early on how much I love you! And it’ll start when your pretty mouth lets out a beautiful scream…” His eyes darkened as he uttered each word, watching with empty eyes as fear washed over your facial features. To traumatize your child this early was something you didn’t want, not ever really — and Doma knew that. You wanted to protect them from this side of your marriage for as long as possible, so what choice was there…? He knew you would listen if it meant protecting your children a while longer. “So, what do you say, pretty [Name]?”
A monster he was. You avert your eyes and nod solemnly. “Yes…! I… I n-need you, Doma…”
His grin grows impossibly wide and he lets out a pleased laugh. “I knew you wanted this too, petal! Hahah, I love you so much!” He says cheerfully, wasting no time to begin. His wicked mouth attached itself to your pebbled bud, ever so sharp fangs digging into the tender flesh of your breast. His arms wrapped tightly around you, pulling you unbearably close to him as if he were afraid to let go. Greedily, he sucked harshly at your nipple, lapping happily as the sweet liquid gushed into his mouth. A soft cry left you, shutting your eyes and arching your back, gritting your teeth as the sudden ache of pain went through you. Your hand immediately went to his head, tugging at his locks in an attempt to pull him away. Of course, you were still tender from feeding your daughter, and this just made the pain worse. Not that the man cared.
The demon ignored you, eyes fluttering shut as he savored the delectable milk, the flavors melting on his tongue as he flicked the muscle over your bud, downing each ounce down his throat with a smile. Even if demons didn’t need this source of nutrients, it didn't stop the man from feeling full the more he drank. Nonetheless, he was more than satisfied with the moment, engrossed in how his fantasy was nothing compared to this.
Except, now, he needs more of you.
It almost tastes as great as human blood. The sounds of wet clicks was all you heard as they mixed with his soft grunts. His hot breath fanned over your skin, quickening as he drank every last drop from you. You started to feel weak, eyelids getting heavy as Doma switched to your other breast. His hands kneaded your skin, claws scraping along your hips and thighs, pulling you closer and closer until he seemed to be melting into you. His hips grinded against the sheets, breathing heavily as he drank like a thirsty man. If he knew this was possible earlier, he would have started since your twins were born.
What a fool he was to let an opportunity pass by.
You could have sworn at some point he whimpered 'mommy' as he drank. But it slipped your mind as your hand fell from his hair and you welcomed the darkness. He rutted desperately into the bed and with a broken moan, a wave of bliss washed over him, wetting his pants and the sheets. Though, Doma didn’t stop there.
You didn't even know when you slipped into a deep sleep, but for hours did your husband nurse, leaving your nipples raw by the time he was done.
Doma let his cloak slip from his shoulder and draped it over you, humming softly. He sat next to you on the bed, just watching you in silence. Doma stroked your cheek with his knuckles, watching as you slept peacefully. He smiled with a sigh.
"My pretty petal… my beautiful wife… I love you…"
◇◇◇
After that night, your personal affairs in the bedroom changed drastically.
Doma added more herbs to your diet, to make sure you were producing more than enough milk for both your children and your nights with him.
Nursing on you became Doma's new way to destress from the day, snuggling up to you and burying his face into your supple breasts, drinking every ounce of milk until he was satisfied.
Though, some days, he just laid his head on your bare chest and had you run your fingers through his hair. During these moments, he stayed quiet, letting the peace stay.
You never dared question him, however. Afraid it would result in the same fate you lived almost every night. You needed these moments of peace. Even if you weren't completely alone, dealing with a docile Doma was better than a feverous one.
If this meant you got some type of mercy from the demon, you’re willing to partake in his sick fantasy again…
Their partner wants to cook them a meal but they're a terrible cook. How do they react? | Multiple Characters
Fandoms Included: Naruto/Naruto Shippuden, The Case Study of Vanitas, Yona of the Dawn, Demon Slayer, Genshin Impact, Danganronpa, Assassination Classroom, and Your Turn To Die
Warnings: Small spoilers to Demon Slayer and Your Turn to Die and potentially other animes so read at your own risk!
A/N: I don't know when I'll have the time or motivation to write write anything so for a while, you guys may only see little headcanons like this.. Thank you all for your patience! <3
↪ Insists that they cook/Never lets you step into the kitchen/Talks their way out of it.
Whether it was due to their charismatic wording, a humble offer, or their own tricks and or distractions, they somehow steer you completely away from the kitchen and whether you two end up having a nice, lengthy chat while they prepare dinner, cuddle up to each other while you wait for takeout to arrive, or something else entirely, I'm confident when I say that the thought of cooking has completely vanished from your mind at that point, much to their ( and their stomach's ) happiness.
↪ Claims they're not hungry/Has a list of excuses up their sleeve.
Despite might've having just said that they were starving beyond belief, as soon as you offered to cook them a meal, they immediately go on to say how they mispoke; how they're actually stuffed and can't even begin to eat anything 'lest they wanted to pop like a balloon. If not that, they're quick to lie saying that they've already ordered takeout and how they wouldn't want to waste your amazing cooking nor their money. If that doesn't suffice, they'll come up with another excuse, and another, and another until you drop the topic all together and trusts me when I say that they will keep pulling excuses out of their ass until you give up.
↪ Can't lie to save their life and ends up sucking it up in the end.
Whether their faces gives them away or the fact that their excuse/lie was just god awful, you see right through it immediately and upon questioning them about it with that sad puppy-dog face, they sigh, shake their head, and say in a defeated tone, "I can't wait to taste whatever you cook.." watching as your face lights up and you lean in to kiss their cheek while telling them that'll you'll make sure to take extra special care of their meal. When you disappear into the kitchen, they start to pray, begging whatever superior being out there to either change your mind and decide to order takeout or that something prevents you from making their meal; example, the kitchen burning down.
⇻ Naruto Uzumaki, KANKURO, Gaara, Kisame, Deidara, KIBA INUZUKA, Tsunade, Roland Fortis, Jean-Jacques Chastel, Yona, KIJA, KAN TAE-JUN, AN RIRI, Ayura, TANJIRO KAMADO, Hakuji, Sucrose, Furina, MONA, GOROU, Ga Ming, Thoma, COLLEI, KAITO MOMOTA, Komaru Naegi, NAGISA SHIOTA, JOE TAZUNA
↪ Brutally honest/Puts themselves first.
Listen, as much as they care for and adore you, they care about their stomach just a little more. That said, when you come to them with the idea of cooking, they immediately shut you down, and whether they're as gentle and delicate as a flower about it or as harsh and cutthroat as the weapons they ( may ) wield, they'll ( maybe ) make it up to you somehow with riches, some form of their affection, or quality time. ( They may even allow you to cook! ..Under their careful supervision of course. Y'all can cook together! :D )
↪ Can't stand to hurt your feelings/Goes along with it.
When they see your eyes shine as you excitedly ramble about wanting to cook for them and all the dishes you'll make for them after the long day they've had, they just can't turn you down. You look so happy, so excited, all because you want to spend your valuable time making something for them, and even if the dish could kill a man, they'd be ( smart ) a fool to refuse your offer. So what if it's a little bland or a kinda ( very ) charred? They've been through worse. And besides, what's the worst that could happen ( You ended up nearly killing them with the first bite )
BARISTA'S NOTE: i entered the nowhere dimension the other day and returned with a forbidden scroll that told me how to homo my text.
also WARNING! this thing is LONG.
GENDER: Femme
FANDOM: Demon Slayer
Thank you for ordering!
Come again soon!
Let's see.. Douma! Upper Moon Two? Leader of the Eternal Paradise Cult? Emotionless demon who likes to eat women specifically for their nutritious value?
Oooooo, This is gonna be a tough one for you!
I view Douma as an Obsessive, Clingy, Possessive and Sadistic yandere.
Obsessive in the way that Douma just can't help but get to know everything about you! His beloved! Every little thing you are- Your hobbies- Your personality- The way your eyes flicker when you're overjoyed. All of it is such a drug to him!
Clingy in the way that you must be close to him at all times, It's a need. Douma will always be touching you in some form, Whether it be an arm around your shoulder- You sitting on his lap or your lips on his. Wherever you are- You must be nearby.
Possessive in the way that you're his with no argument. To him, You are his belonging. And as such if he wants to toy around with you then he will, Your reactions to this only serve to amuse him which leads onto our next point.
Sadistic in the way that he just loves to poke and prod at you to get a reaction. He loves to see you squirm, To cry or laugh. It doesn't matter whether it's positive or negative- As long as you react, He'll be just fine.
Whether you view Douma as a product of his upbringing or an evil-to-the-bone bad guy- It doesn't particularly matter.
I'd think the only way he'd ever become truly obsessed is if you yourself somehow spark something in him. A strike of colour in a greyscale.
I see two ways of this occurring.
The first is where you're a member of his cult. Perhaps a rather beautiful or talented one that manages to ensnare his attention. Perhaps something about you stands out from the others, Or maybe you're average- Who knows? All that matters is that you caught his attention.
The second is where you're a demon slayer. Maybe you're a Hashira or a lower ranked slayer, One that just happens to stumble across a massacre caused by our one and only. Maybe you impress him with your skill, Or Douma may want to save you as a snack for later, Only to grow feelings towards you in the coming times.
I'm gonna go with the first.
Okay. So you're a member of The Eternal Paradise Cult! Let's say you were born into this convent, You grew up in this convent. The Buddhist statues and the prayer ceremonies- It's all you've ever known. You worship some immortal figure with red eyes, Preached to you by your convent's prophet, Douma.
Douma is a rather unfamiliar figure to you. For one, You barely see him- Not having spoken a word to him at all! You only see him during ceremonies and occasionally on night-time walks.
You're described by your fellow men and women of faith as a woman with a sweet and demure nature. You're known for the way you can bond with a Shamisen, How your fingers run across the strings and you can serenade crowds in an instant.
But you don't perform for the cult, Not like some of the other girls- No.
You much prefer to keep your talent's to yourself, Maybe play a private concert if another member asked you nicely enough. Despite the constant praise- You don't particularly think that you're good enough to perform, Let alone for his grace!
Maybe one day if you improve.. Perhaps someday..
Douma himself is a man of the arts. He enjoys dancing, He has women flock to him to play their music for him. Tapestries of fine colour hang from every wall in the convent.
So it's safe to say as he's taking a stroll through one of the more secluded area's of the convent, He pauses once he hears such a beautiful melody.
Now Douma, Despite his penchant for the Arts- Isn't particularly moved by it. Though he enjoys the tune of a biwa or a koto, Enjoys the colours upon a pallet- Nothing really touches his heart, Nothing really makes him feel much as usual.
However there was something about this tune, Something about the way that shamisen was being strum.. It was interesting for him, It was a tune he hadn't ever heard in his centuries of living..
So he slides open the shoji door, Stepping inside as his eyes search the room..
To land on you.
You sat there on your knees, The shamisen delicately cradled within your arms as you tug at the strings with a pick. It was such a strong yet gentle tune you hummed along to, Not quite noticing him yet, Too invested within your instrument to care about your surroundings.
Douma finds it rather.. Amusing. Yes. That was the word. He stood there, His golden fan splayed across his mouth to conceal the expression laid upon his face. The music was so much more.. Poignant now that he was closer.
You're jolted out of your trance by the clearing of a throat.
You turn around with a mild expression, Ready to greet and/or apologise for the noise to whatever person that walked in here- Only to come face to face with the founder himself.
"O-Oh my- Your grace! I didn't notice your presence, I apologise-"
You quickly set your shamisen to the side, Lowering down so that your forehead kissed the tatami mats, Bowing to him in deep respect. Your heart thunders in your chest, Still reeling from the shock of seeing him there.
Douma finds that funny, The fan fluttering over his face to conceal the amusement on his face. He steps forward, Telling you to raise your head in such a kind and friendly voice.
He tells you that he had been on a stroll when he heard such beautiful noise. He asks you if you were the one to play it, Even though he already knows the answer to it.
You blush in embarrassment, Nodding your head as you gesture down to your shamisen. You feel both flattered and awkward that he had heard you play, And even call it beautiful..!
Douma asks you to play again, So you do. By the end of it he's clapping, Smiling, Telling you how the gods have blessed you with a talent none other has. He invites you to play for him tonight, Telling you that you should join the girls that do it on the regular.
And you- Of course- Aren't one to deny his grace, Are you? Especially since he had taken the time out of his day to listen to your music and call it beautiful..
So tonight you play for him, You do the best you can.
And that's how it is.
You join his little group of women who play for him each night and admittedly you enjoy it. Douma himself takes a rather keen liking to your talents, So do the other girls in your group.
Suddenly in your solitary life you gain much more friends, More recognition for your talents. Douma makes sure to keep you as one of his best musicians, Something that makes you so excited- To be so favoured by His Grace..!
And at some point, He promotes your status even higher to become apart of his harem. You have such a pretty face after all, And hey, There's a new space ever since he accidentally ate another girl who was apart of the harem. So don't worry about crowding him!
Your quick rise through the ranks of Eternal Paradise surprises you and your friends. All of this happens so fast- But you don't question it to Douma, His judgement is absolute of course! He's a messenger of the gods, So of course this all must be natural..!
It's difficult to say where he grows an obsession.
Though I'd say that it comes all at once, Douma has not point where it begins to 'grow', No, One moment he could be acting just as he usually does and the next he could be on his knees, Pupils in heart shapes as he fawns over you like a lovesick puppy.
Though I doubt he would actually show it, Though that's certainly how he feels on the inside when it does happen. Douma keeps these new emotions in check, Only really letting the 'louder' parts of it out in private.
But lets say that this obsession happens months into you joining his harem. You haven't gotten intimate with him yet to your surprise.
Lets say that during a festival down in the nearby village of Hiyohara- A celebration that your convent celebrates with the upmost favour is occurring once more. It's a favoured holiday of yours- A time you love and cherish while spending it with your family.
But somehow this time you end up with Douma, Maybe because you became lost in the crowd and just lingered near the familiar figure of His Grace. Maybe he let you accompany him, Even though he had no care for you at this point in time.
Maybe he saw it as entertainment, Maybe you amuse him.
But either way you're with him now, Wandering around the festival in Hiyohara, Following him to try out whatever he chooses to do.
But somehow- Things develop.
As you're wandering around, Following him along- You trip.
Your foot gets caught on a rock, Your eyes barely being able to widen before you faceplant dead into a puddle caused by last nights rain.
Your clothing is ruined, Your face is covered in muck. You're not injured but you push yourself up on bruised elbows. Douma flicks his fan across his face, Concealing
He expects you to feel ashamed- To break down in embarrassment- You were with him after all, All his cultists would never-
But you don't.
You don't break down or seem ashamed to have embarrassed yourself in front of him, No- Instead you laugh. You begin to giggle, Smiling as you wipe the mud off your face and swipe it off your hair- Saying how clumsy you were for tripping.
Your laugh.
It was music to him.
To see that unaltered- Raw- Human emotion displayed on your face was enrapturing to him and he had no idea why. The way your eyes lit up, The way your grin stretched from ear to ear in a shameless mirth before him.
For some reason- Douma felt his heart begin to thump in his chest.
As soon as you get up you notice how he has gone rigid, Completely solid as if he was frozen in time. You can see how his expression just looks absolutely shocked, His usually pale- Stark white skin beginning to redden around the face.
You don't understand what was happening.
Douma on the other hand was going through what was almost a religious experience. Suddenly he notices the world around him, His heart pounding, His eyes widening. He can feel sensations flooding through his chest- His cheeks and his heart.
He feels alive.
And it all came from.. You?
Douma in the following days/weeks definetly changes his behaviour. For the first time in his centuries old life he feels love- He feels joy- Excitement even! He can barely believe it, Almost in denial at first.
At it all occurs when he's around you. You.
Douma doesn't question stuff like this, Stuff he see's as silly. But what he also sees is you, How wonderful you are- How much you bring out this addictive emotion inside of him. He doesn't care how you did it- Not in the slightest.
Douma definetly begins to get much more favourable towards you, Even more so than before. Every night you will play your music for him and he will listen, All the while his eyes trail across your face, Your body. All admiring with a gleam in his eyes.
Expect him to make much more appearances where you are. His smile on his face as he makes his way towards you, Ignoring the shocked looks of the other cultists who can't believe that His Grace has shown up amongst them.
Douma definetly gets more touchy, More friendly with you. A hand on your shoulder? An arm around your waist? If he's feeling ballsy then maybe a small kiss on the corner of your lips as he leans down towards your ear to tell you what music he wants you to play for him later.
You don't question the intimacy- No, You're apart of his harem, That's to be expected but..
Think of this all as an experimentation stage for Douma. What he's doing, His intimacy and his extra time with you is to make sure that what he's feeling comes from you and you alone- Not some other factor changing that.
And once he gets his results?
Yeah. No. He's hooked.
I'd say up until this point everything is relatively normal with him, Well- As normal as you can get with Douma but I digress. You go about your daily life, Play music for him each night while Douma continues to feast on his cultists as ceremonial practice all the while his mind lingers to you.
But that doesn't last for very long.
As Douma takes one of his daily walks through the halls of the convent- A habit he picked up out of boredom during the day- He pauses.
Douma was stopped beside a corner, Looking out through an open door to see two figures standing within the sun-soaked gardens. He can't really see who it is at first, Considering that both backs were turned but..
One of them- He could tell it was you.
You were giggling, Admiring the prospering plant life around you as you stood next to some unknown figure. You were almost brushing shoulders with him, A smile on your face as you looked at him, Your shamisen held delicately in your hands.
In any other scenario, Douma wouldn't care about what was going on- He wouldn't even bat an eye but-
You were too close to him, Yes, Douma thought. You smiled at him so brightly that it felt like the sun was sizzling at Douma's skin. You seemed happy to be there with.. With that man. You had your shamisen, Did you play it for him..?
Oh no.
Oh no no.
Douma felt his eye twitch. Felt his innards begin to turn and his blood run even colder than it ever did.
What was this?
This feeling in his stomach that made the rest of him feel as frozen as ice.
Why were you with him?
Who was he?
Shouldn't you be back inside out of the sun, Where he was? Away from whatever human man was talking to you so freely right now.
He could just rip his guts out right now, Would you like that? He could just tear and tear away at his flesh for you if you wanted, Would that get you away from that man and back to him?
Douma didn't like this new feeling in his veins. He grasped at his stomach, His eyes widening as he felt his body react to this disgusting sensation. He didn't like this feeling. He didn't like it one bit.
Douma's smile is near contorted on his face as he watches the two of you walk away amongst the gardens. He near keels over, Holding on the corner for support.
He didn't like this feeling.
He didn't like how you talked to that man so freely.
...
That man.
It's a day like any other, At least that's how it starts out. You wake up in your room as usual, Get dressed, Do your hair and makeup before walking out into the hallways to head to breakfast.
As apart of Douma's harem, You're allowed to take partners other than him, Douma isn't usually jealous so the rest of his harem tend to have partners of their own.
You too, Have followed in their footsteps as you met another cult member that you hit it off with. He seemed to enjoy your music, Laugh at your jokes and vice versa. He was a nice guy, Someone you got along with well.
And it was obvious you both shared looks between each other.
So as you enter the breakfast hall it comes as a shock to hear that he had ran away during the night. It's heresy to the convent to forsake your religion by running away, You had just seen him yesterday and he was plenty faithful then so-
Why had he ran?
You ask Douma about this but he just waves you off with a saddened look across his face, Saying that some people just aren't able to be enlightened, That they stray from the path.
And you believe him. Of course you do.
He's your leader after all.
Soon after that things change.
Douma has requested that you now sleep with him in his quarters, A move that has shocked both you and the rest of the faithful. The rest of the harem has never gotten the privileges of sleeping in the same bed with him, Even after 'session's per se.
Douma requests your presence much more often, Always disguising it as wanting to hear you play your shamisen but it always ends up with a cup of sake and a conversation.
His physical touch becomes much more intimate now, Much more public. A kiss on the lips is common, His hands squeezing your cheeks like you're the cutest thing even more so.
He views other humans as cattle, But not you- No.
It's a shock to find out that one day during a sermon, Douma declares that the gods have sent him a wife. An eternal lover. It's even more shocking when his eyes lock on yours, Telling everyone that it is you who the gods have declared to be his partner.
You're absolutely shocked, But also terrified.
You can't be sent by the gods. You just.. Couldn't.
You're showered in gifts by the cult, Praised and honoured as the God's new gift to them but all you can think of is how.. Fake this all seems. The way Douma looked at you during his declaration, Something about it seemed so.. Wrong.
Something wasn't right.
Douma himself is thrilled to have this work out for him. Declaring that you were chosen by the God's worked well- Made sure that you wouldn't try to go for anyone else as well.. You're no longer apart of his harem, You're promised to him and him alone.
Having other romantic interests is out of the question now.
If you do show signs, Any at all, Of being interested in another man..
You'll be told they've ran away during the night- Or got chosen for the next Ascension.
That reasoning doesn't seem to make sense anymore.
Expect Douma to be with you at all times now, Your ability to go wherever you pleased in the convent revoked in favour of staying in his quarters with him. If you want to go out you must be with him.
He lives through your emotions. If you're sad, He's sad. If you're happy, He's happy. He feeds off of your feelings like a parasite, You're something he can invest what rotten soul he has into.
Which is why he tries to make you as happy as possible.
You want food? Delivered with the finest of cutlery. You want expensive clothes? Your closet is filled to the brim the next day. You want jewellery? Made with the largest of gems and polished until it hurts the eye.
Even if you're humble and don't want the richest of things- You'll get it anyways. Douma can't have his wife- A woman declared to be sent from their god walking around in 'rags' now can he?
When sleeping in his bed expect to be the small spoon. When you are, Douma holds you just a bit too close to him, His nose buried in your hair. Even when you're fast asleep he's wide awake.
He leaves after a while to do as he usually does, But he always spends an unordinary amount of time just laying with you.
You bathe with him now in his private bathhouse. Douma love to take baths in sake so you'll be doing the same with him, Often times on his lap. It's up to your imagination what happens afterwards.
He also enjoys dancing so he'd expect you to try learn some. Even though it's not your forte (That belonging to music-) You try your best to keep up with him, Nervously now.
He doesn't let you talk to nobody anymore, No one that's not the monks or a very trusted group of people that Douma approves of.
You're now to be worshipped along with him as a gift from the gods, Offerings given to both you and Douma now.
Douma I think may actually try to drink some of your blood- Perhaps collecting it while you slept or bringing it up as a sort of 'ritual' for lovers that you've "just not heard of."
Once he does get a hold of your blood, Expect him to savour it like ambrosia, The taste better than marechi as he eagerly sips away at it.
He'd turn you into a demon at some point, However not now as he still values your human qualities. Douma still wishes to keep you like this until the day comes where he decides to immortalise you as a demon.
If you try to bring up your doubts to Douma about being sent from the gods, Douma will try to convince you that you were- Your beauty- Your skills- All of this was made for him.
It's an honour to be with him.
You agree, Right?
Douma, Despite his lack of emotions can read you like a book. He can tell that you're growing suspicious, That you've got a gut feeling that something was wrong. He tries to tell you that it's just jitters..
If you ever find out about Douma's demonic nature..
Screaming, Crying, Throwing up. You're horrified, Absolutely petrified that you've been worshipping a demon your entire life without even knowing about it. You gave gifts to him, You praised him, You worshipped him-
The amount of people he must've eaten- The amount of lives he must've taken-!
Trying to run away would be insanely- And I mean insanely difficult. The convent is already guarded to keep people in and with you there is extra supervision not just from the monks but Douma himself too.
The only way I ever see you actually escaping would be playing the long game and doing it during the daytime, But I'm talking about years here- Douma can read you, If he suspects you of not being all that devoted to him then he'll know.
If you actually do succeed in escaping then Douma would go insane. And I mean it. He'd slaughter members of his cult in a rage, His talons tearing through their skin like paper as he rampages.
This emotion is new to him after all- Anger, Desperation. All of this is so incredibly potent because of it, No one to keep him in check since you escaped.
If you thought him discovering Jealousy was bad..
Douma would get a hold of himself after a while however, No- Douma is an intelligent demon. He's conniving and collected, He just lost it for a little bit.. Just a bit. Don't worry, He's back to normal.. He's collected himself.
Douma will never stop looking for you. Members of his cult may even be dispatched to look for you while he does so at night-time. Your scent is memorised in his head, He'll follow whatever trail he can get- He'll track you down one way or another.
He presents himself as less-than-good at tracking- However that all changes when it comes to you.
If he finds you, You'll be dragged back kicking and screaming all the while Douma has that same smile on his face. He's passive aggressive for sure, Making sure you hurt yourself in your struggle all the while demeaning you.
If you were hiding out in any town or village then Douma will massacre everyone and anyone in your vicinity. He'll drag their corpses back with him too, Food for later- Food for your transformation.
You'll become a demon, Douma is not loosing you again. He'll cut open his arm and hold you down, Forcing you to drink his blood- Knowing that Muzan will accept this new demon as the last two turned out to be promising.
He'll make you eat the bodies of the people you use to love- Your friends, Your family. All the while telling you that this is what happens when you try to disobey him in such a happy tune.
Despite how fake he seems, He really is genuine when he tells you how much he loves you- How overjoyed he is to have you back.
All the while wiping the blood off your lips with his thumb.
Leaning in to kiss you surrounded by the flesh of dozens.
In my darling opinion, Sanemi is the type to fall in love once in his life, and he falls in love madly, ferociously, fucking deranged ass love.
So when you break up with him; he can't fathom why.
He did everything for you, he even had a ring ready since he knew how important marriage was to keep you both together; he had wanted to call you his wife.
And you just went and destroyed his heart like that.
Even when he gave you all his firsts, when he exposed every raw, aching, vulnerable part of himself.
"My first, my last, my only..." he had whispered the first time he lost his innocence to you. "My one and only- Fuck, I love you so much."
And you broke up with him.
He won't take it.
He won't allow it.
You can't be anyone else's, he doesn't care why you left, he had been so gentle with you- Was it your parents? They had disapproved of him since they met him, all because he had a few scars on his face and his personality didn't match his face.
He can't let all these stupidities come in the way.
You're his everything.
You had squealed and giggled when he picked you up with ease by the waist and spun you around; laughed into the crook of his neck as his rough hand came to cup the back of your head.
You had loved him too.
No, you probably still love him.
Your stupid friends were probably jealous and convinced you his 'possessiveness' was getting out of hand—for fuck's sake, he was only trying to protect you and it's not like you need to see your friends so often.
He dropped his friends entirely to be around you all the time.
And you had been so happy with his attention and time, always so pleasant and grateful as he lavished his money and love on you.
He gave you everything.
Every pretty eyeshadow palette, every shimmering necklace or ring, every designer bag and tote, every treatment you asked for. He never let you lift your finger unless it was to get your nails done.
Did you want more? Is that why you left? If you wanted more, he would've put a wad of cash in your hand- You already had his card but did you want more?
Did he not spend enough time with you?
He took you to every cafe, every restraunt. He took you out to beautiful, remote forests to stargaze. He drove you to the loveliest places, to all the gorgeous waterfalls and mountains and islands your heart desired to see. He had just planned a trip to Switzerland since you said you had so badly wanted to go one day...
Sanemi cries in his bed, hugging your pillow to his chest, smelling the fading scent of your rose shampoo and black cherry perfume. God, he misses you, he can't do this anymore, it's only been a few days and he's going mad.
He needs you back, now, right now.
He won't- can't live without you.
And he can see the surprise across your pretty face as you open the door of your new home, the one without him in it, and before you can even open your sweet lips, he's kissing you desperately, stepping inside forcefully and closing the door hurriedly behind him, pressing you against the nearest wall despite how you hands press against his chest, trying to get him off.
"I love you, I fuckin' love you," he mutters wetly against your lips, placing a hand against your head to make you kiss him back. "C'mon, baby, don't- don't do this to me-" he almost cries against your lips, tears running down his face, and he feels sick as you try to push him away- "Don't you love me? Baby, I did everythin' for you, do you want more? I can do more, I'll do anythin'-"
You quit his rambling by a firm slap across his face, tears running down your own delicate face. He goes silent as his head remains turned to the side from the force, snowy hair hanging in front of burning lavender eyes, they go bloodshot from rage but when he turns to look at you and sees you crying, he immediately cradles your pretty face in calloused hands.
"Honey, don' cry," he murmurs, kissing your face open-mouthed and brushing your hair from your face. "Baby, don't be sad, 's fine, I'll make it okay-"
"-Just stop, Sanemi! Please, for God's sake, just leave me alone!" you cry and he freezes. "Sanemi, I- I can't, not anymore, you- you're a good man but you- you- God, Sanemi, I found out you threatened half my friends behind my back to stay away from me and..."
Sanemi feels white-hot rage pour over his head like cold water, and suddenly he's wrenching a fistful of your hair to hold you flush against him, his other hand coming to hold your jaw firmly to force you to meet his eyes. Your scrambling hands trying to claw at his forearms are nothing more
"Sweetheart," he says and the word is like poison. "You're telling me you care more about some fucking idiots that don't give two shits about you over me?" His voice is quiet and suddenly you'd wish he'd yell as he keeps your face in that painful grip, and he lets go of you to cup your face, then one hand moves to run his fingers through your hair. "You can't really be that stupid, baby?"
He plants a firm kiss on your forehead. "You know, I know you're a bit naive, gullible... So I'd be willing to forgive and forget your stupidity if you came back home, to me, of course."
"Sanemi, no, just get out, please, I'm begging you, just leave me alone," you say desperately, sobbing softly, trying to helplessly push him out the house, to the front door.
Sanemi can feel himself pushing back the urge to grab your wrist and just drag you back home.
"Baby," he says sweetly, "you're gonna crawl back like a little bitch to me in no time, so spare us both the trouble and ditch whatever snivelling excuse for a man you've chosen as my replacement before I make you."
"But I like him," you cry uselessly, gasping as Sanemi's one hand is more than enough to bind both your wrists together and render you defenceless. "'Nemi, please..."
But he's not listening, looking to the side, deep in thought, and after a minute of silence, his eyes light up and he looks at you, smiling sweetly. "What if I killed him, hmm?"
Your blood runs cold. Sanemi never made suggestions that he didn't plan on fulfilling.
"Would you like that?" he asks you, kissing your temple slowly, free hand moving up to tuck some hair behind your ear. He moves his face close, so close that his lips graze yours as he talks. "You can have his head as an engagement gift if you'd like, I'll hang the ugly thing on our mirror and you can both watch as I fuck you into oblivion, and I'll cum inside your pretty little pussy as well. I'm sick an' tired of not being able to cum inside you... You should let me, as an apology."
He grins against your jaw now, placing a kiss there too. "Make your choice, love," he whispers, "I just want what's best for you."
The smile on his face is broad and crooked, victorious, as you allow your delicate hand to be engulfed by his as he packs your things into a bag and drag you back home.
"You're such a silly girl," he coos as he brings you back to the bedroom you so sorely missed, "thinking you could leave me... I should teach you a lesson."
/ A few months later, news spreads quick about the baby in your belly and your engagement to the man who's kisses are like heaven and hell all at once.
Yandere!Tengen&Wives, Suma x reader. (+18 drabble)
You being the lover of tengen & his wives, who all love you just the same. You being their baby who they would do anything for and they love babying you, can’t even lift a finger without their say so. They are protective, obsessed with you so much you can’t leave their side, or the house without them. So you always are sucking on Hinatsuru tits because it’s relaxing and she loves it so much, always brushing your hair back and lets you fall asleep. Or how you always cuddle in the girl’s chest if you sleep or just lay down because they are so soft and big, perfect for a pillow to cuddle. But you’ve only ever sucked Hinatsuru’s.
Until one day when the others left to do some errands and you had to stay home because you were sick. Suma stayed back with you for some alone time and she loved it so much, just cuddling you in bed all morning with no one else. Suma always was jealous when you would cling to Hinatsuru, but felt bad for saying anything. But she often wondered if she wasn’t good enough. But every ounce of doubt left her mind when you looked up from her arms, eyes half closed with a shy look in your face.
“May I suck your breast?” Asking so politely and shyly, she almost cried of excitement. She undid her nightgown and slipped it down for you to have full access to her chest. Pride filled her body when your eyes light up and grabbed ahold of her nipple with your soft mouth. Her small moans left her lips when you licked them and sucked them softly. All she could do was lay there and watch you work yourself back to sleep, using her as comfort. “My sweet baby.” She stroked your hair and wished to never let you go.
Suma day dreamed about it from that moment, always thinking of your cute lips wrapped around her nipples. When the others came home she was upset they screamed and almost woke you up, until they got in the bedroom and saw her glaring at them with a finger on her mouth. They all coo’ed at how cute you looked holding onto her waist and knocked out asleep with just a peaceful expression with her boob in your mouth. Hinatsuru wasn’t jealous but rather glad she could experience the feeling.
Makio however was jealous that she was the only one not to have her tits sucked by you and wanted to wake you up just to do so. She was pouting and crossing her arms the whole day and got snappy. Tengen laughed and patted her head telling her that it will happen one day because you’re always staring at their chests, even his. Suma bragged about it to Makio and got hit because she was so mad about it, but in the end you just loved all their boobs so much.
(I just really love boobs and woman, had a dream about just laying in them for comfort. Suma deserved some love)
giyuu swallowed hard upon walking in on you breast feeding your son. he couldn’t help but get extremely hard when he saw how leaky and swollen your boobs were.
oh, if he could just squeeze on them with those callous hands of his or even suck on them for a little bit. giyuu stands there with his mouth slack and dry, breathing hard like a dog in heat and palms all sweaty. he’s trying hard not to crack, but it’s hard when he’s around you almost 24/7 and his mind is consumed by how plump your breasts are.
“oh, i didn’t see you standing there.” you said, cradling your son close to your chest. “are you okay, baby? you’re sweating awfully hard.”
giyuu stands still, sweat dripping down his face. “‘m fine.” he says with a painfully awkward smile, “gonna go to the restroom. i’ll be right back.” and before you could say or do anything else, giyuu was gone. you shrugged it off to him needing to go to the bathroom really badly, but only if you knew.
giyuu is sitting on the toilet with his cock in hand, jerking off with you and your plush boobs in mind, “fuck—” he whimpers, biting down on his t-shirt as he thinks about his fat cock in between your swollen breasts.
he’d be lying if he say he wasn’t envious of his own son. he wish he could have the same privileges as him without feeling like a horrible and selfish husband.
“giyuu, baby, are you alright?” you knocked on the bathroom door, leaning against it. “you’ve been in the for quite awhile.”
and just when you happened to knock on the door is when he cums... and hard. he takes a few seconds to answer you, trying to calm down from his overwhelming orgasm. “yeah, ‘m fine, love.” he says, his voice straining, “i’ll be out in a second!”
maybe one day, he’ll muster up the courage to ask you if he could suck on them or even for you to give him a boob job, but until then he’ll just jack off to you and your boobs in secret.
Yandere/Dark!Scion Hanzo x Sister!Reader. Warnings: Angst/Non-Con/Physical Abuse/Shaming. A general bad time.
After a long, in-depth meeting about the future of the empire now that’s it’s dead, unsightly weight had been successfully cut from its haunches, the elders instructed Hanzo to investigated and figure out why exactly, and for what better be a good reason, you had decided not to join to solidify your place in the new era of the Shimada reign.
Finding you, with a backpack open on the bed; refusing to so as much acknowledge him as he entered your room, was the very last thing Hanzo was looking to find. He would have rather you had been sickly and bedridden. Held at knifepoint by assassins, kidnapped, rather than have you willfully defying both his and the elders’ orders.
“Where are you going?” Hanzo demanded of his sister; of you. His sister who looked more tired than he’s ever seen her. Heavy bags under your eyes and a deep frown that seemed to be your permanent state of face in those days.
“I don’t know,” you said quietly. Stuffed more clothes inside of your bag, and shrugged your shoulders, a quiver in your chin that also is commonplace. “Just- I don’t know… but I’m not staying here.”
“Yes. You. Are.” Hanzo took a threatening step into the room. The pressure in his chest was overwhelming and his heart was beating so hard against his ribs he could hardly hear over the blood as it coursed through his ears.
You couldn’t leave. He couldn’t allow you to just walk out the door and forsake your family name. Hanzo would not have his own sister embarrassing him by being so blatantly, freely defiant. Leaving when the empire’s in need of the very last two Shimadas it has.
“Yes. I. Am.” The look you gave him was full of nothing but daggers, a sharp hiss in your voice. That jaw gradually losing its ability to remain still as tears started to roll down your cheeks. Standing your ground you held your head high and challenged him. “What you’re gonna do? Huh?! Murder me?” you spat.
Finally, Genji has his Sister where he wants her to be. Exactly as you need to be. Well, not exactly, but you’ll get there. You’re loose, tipsy, and unguarded; dancing amongst strangers to you, but friends to him. Inhibitions already lowering with every little sip of the drink in your hand. It had taken so much charm, so many false promises to get you to even consider the idea of clubbing with him. Especially after the incident. The thing you don’t bring up for what you feel is his own sake. Because you hate to think of your brother that way.
It was a beautiful day. Perfect for a date with his little Sister. He had thought it had gone so well. Genji made you laugh so hard that you doubled over and cried. Wiping away tears from your eyes that are so much like his own. Just… a little softer. A little wider. Carrying much more naiveness than his own.
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