Tumgik
#n/sfw
merakiui · 1 day
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Please hear me out... The birds and the bees except there's fem Riddle. Before Reader goes into her room, during their conversation outside, Mrs. Rosehearts tells Reader to make it clear to her Riddle that sexual connections are only to be had between a man and a woman. But then Reader goes inside and ruins her daughter like that!!! (It's okay, fem Riddle's a creep too) Wouldn't that be uh... so scrumptious?? MAYBE WALKING IN WITH A STRAPON IN READER'S BAG except Riddle's the one who uses it on the reader?? The possibilities are endless 😵‍💫 (side note: can i be Rimi anon?)
👁 👁 omg Rimi anon!!!!!!! You are a genius AAAAAAAAAAA. Walking into the room, assuming you'll have control of the situation, but the tables turn and suddenly you're plastered to the desk and Riddle's pounding into you with the strap. <3 as she should!!!!!! She turns you into a babbling mess and maybe it's her turn to quiz you on anatomy hehe. >:3c
Omg omg maybe she has you block all of the other guys on your phone because you don't need them when you have her. After this session, she'll know your body well enough to make sure that whenever you spend a day with her it's a guarantee you'll be satisfied every time. Aaaaa she really is such a creep,,, orz
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flametrashira · 4 hours
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Toshinori Yagi NSFW Headcanons
NSFW. GN!reader. Sub!Toshinori. SoftDom!reader
Toshi is a sucker for good old fashioned romance. He wants to take things slow, enjoying the adventure of falling for you, and treating you like you deserve to be treated.
Oh he absolutely wanted to kiss you on the first date. He wanted it all. But he held back, savoring the butterflies and the tension until at least the third.
But you'll never doubt he's smitten. He blushes A LOT when you talk. His hands are practically fused to yours the entire date. He's so interested in you and your life, even if it isn't as eventful as his.
He's very loving and gentlemanly.
The first kiss is chaste and somewhat reserved, but his heart almost jumps out of his chest at the touch of your lips.
Praise is pretty much lost on him. He's spent his entire career as a pro-hero being told how amazing he is. It sits on his surface, never fully sinking in. But your actions; the way you smile at him, the warmth in your embrace after he walks you to your doorstep and says goodnight, those things mean everything.
When you text him to say you're thinking about him, he screenshots it (Midoria taught him how) and saves it to a folder on his phone named for you.
He sends you encouraging messages throughout the day.
Never forget! You make the world brighter! Toshinori x
You're so amazing! I can't wait to see you again! Toshinori <3 x
You make me :) With love, Toshinori x
And when your relationship becomes more physical... gee whizz
Every kiss makes him feel like he's flying. Like he's invincible.
You share several looooong makeout sessions before he even attempts to touch your bare skin.
Even then it's just his fingertips beneath your shirt, touching your stomach. And it overwhelms him. He has to stop and rest his forehead against yours and just breathe.
He is the gentlest kisser. Sometimes too gentle. You have to encourage him to be a little more forceful.
As a hero, there have been no shortage of people touching his body; adoring fans squeezing his biceps for pictures, people kissing him without asking first, hands darting out of crowds to touch his abs. Sometimes he feels numb to physical touch.
But the emotional connection between you two is what really turns him on.
That's what makes your touches and kisses really pleasurable.
He's very very sensitive when he's aroused. He gets goosebumps all along his thighs and the backs of his arms.
He leans toward being a service sub. He'll do anything to please you. You have to practically tie him down if you want to pleasure him.
And believe me, you do want that. He's so responsive, so grateful, so overwhelmed by every caress and kiss.
He thanks you constantly.
For a long time he was self conscious of his smaller body, but you make him feel like he's even more of a stud than he was in his prime.
He has very sensitive hips and turns to mush when you kiss them. Just be careful of his wounded side.
Handing you the reins to his pleasure, submitting to you while you dote on him and lavish him with affection brings him a sense of relief.
No one is relying on him, he had no duties, no calling, no quirk, no stress, no fighting. Just you and him, and those wonderful feelings he could happily drown in.
His work as an orator, inspiring generations of new heroes seems a distant memory when all he can manage are choked groans and the occasional "oh jeez... oh... oh wow..."
He makes such a good pillow prince once you convince him to just lie there and enjoy it.
All that fluffy golden hair spread across the pillow, his big, strong hands covering his eyes when it all becomes too much (don't stop!)
He LOVES going down on you. He loves how good it makes you feel.
Please sit on his face. He loves that especially. And it isn't strenuous on his injuries. In fact any position which has you on top is perfect for him.
He loves the view when you ride him. One time in the throes of ecstasy he moaned "oh you look like an angel" as you bounced on his cock. Adorable dork.
It can sometimes take a while for him to get hard even if he's turned on. And it sometimes takes a while for him to cum.
But your patience is rewarded by his beautiful, breathy cries of bliss, followed by the most adorable "oh wow!" or "Jeeez..."
And when you're done, he absolutely lavishes you in aftercare. It doesn't matter that you're his dom, he'll insist on bringing you water and a warm washcloth, he'll rub your aching muscles and tell you how amazing you are.
You take care of each other.
Afterwards, he wants to cuddle; those gangly limbs wrapped around you while you stroke his hair and kiss his brow.
Oh you make his heart glow.
Toshi's just such a loved-up dork for you.
Being adored never felt so good.
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naughtyservant · 1 day
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F is for F/ree (S/oul Eater)!
His freedom means capture tasty guys inside his sweaty balls °3°)r
Drop all your ideas for G!
Uncensor version on my A/ryion and T/witter as always
Don't forget like, reblog and follow me for more convicted preds! ovo)r
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Gotta do everything myself 🙄😩
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yanderestarangel · 8 months
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☆ 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝!𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐁 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ☆
TW: Pure smut, NSFW, unprotected sex, rough sex, Daddykink, AFAB anatomy, vaginal sex, creampie, overstimulation, established relationship, a little fluff, Husband! Miguel O'Hara, description of Miguel's dick.
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This man as a husband is a complete package, he loves you, is extremely faithful and does everything to see you happy. Miguel is the kind of husband who shows you for the whole world to see, how beautiful you are, how perfect your body is in the clothes he buys you (and there are many, believe me).
Miguel is the type of husband that if someone flirts with him, he will smile and try to be polite, he only has eyes for you and will never exchange a lifetime of pleasure, happiness and love for a passing adventure in bed, he is yes a sex-crazed animal but that only applies with you his libido is all for you, you turn him on but if it's someone else he'll refuse and come back into your arms.
"-Sorry Honey, I have a husband/wife, I'm a married man" -Miguel would say proudly while showing the thin wedding ring made of expensive material to the woman who flirted with him in the market line, while he did some shopping for you two .
Will wake you up with coffee in bed whenever he can, prepare to wake up to the sound of "Romeo Santos - Eres Mía" is Miguel's favorite song, as he sang happily and brought you your favorite food on a tray with a flower red on the side, then popping it into his mouth like a cheap heartthrob, making you laugh, he loves to hear you laugh, he loves to hear you laugh, he loves you.
♡ Miguel O'Hara is a Horny Husband!!! ♡
He will fuck you in every room in the house possible, over the kitchen counter, in the bathroom, on the living room floor, in the backyard, even on the ceiling if he can...and he can! after all this mf has super strength, prepare to get dizzy as he fucks you in angles and positions you didn't even know existed.
Miguel O'Hara is big... I mean Miguel's cock is 22 centimeters and very thick, with swollen side veins that pulsate and pump, you can see the glow coming off the darker tanned sensitive skin of his cock, with the tip of the member being a darker red matching the rest, as O'Hara's dick is darker than the rest of his body, and extremely beautiful a little crooked to the left, but little else, he uses this to give you more pleasure exploring with the hips.
He loves to see you submissive, he is the type who likes to dominate you with all the anger, passion, love and horny, every drop of his being loves to see you vulnerable and totally naked under his muscular body, he will feel a predator and you are the prey.
"-Look at you, mi amor, crying and trembling... So beautiful mi carinõ... And all mine, this pussy belongs to me..." -Miguel growled, his voice dripping desire and hunger, while looking at you from above below, with you totally sweaty and whimpering from the third denied orgasm that night, every time you came close to coming, O'Hara simply took his fingers out of your pussy and sneered, flashing your beautiful and dangerous fangs at you.
"-Do you really want to come? Beg me, beg me to fuck you, beg me to have your husband's dick inside that nice tight pussy of yours, come on (Y/N) beg, beg me like the good slut you are."
After you whimper and beg, he will finally give in, thrusting his thick, pulsing shaft into you, moving with difficulty because your cock is too thick and you are too tight.
"-Mm, that's it, baby..."- Miguel spoke hoarsely and moaning softly, biting his lip, finally inside you while waiting for your pussy to adjust and take all of his cock.
"-Take daddy's cock deeply, feel every inch of me, you're doing so well (Y/N), such a good little whore for your Husband."
"-Say my name (Y/N)" -Miguel demanded, his voice authoritative and rough, as he slammed into you hard, his hips moving back and forth into your sensitive pussy as he used two fingers to massage your clit hard, making you cry out and squirm with the pleasurable and painful union of Miguel's fingers and cock.
"-Let everyone, the whole neighborhood know who's fucking you mercilessly, Shout out to me, who do you belong to? Shout out (Y/N), shout out to me...Fuck (Y/N)..." -Miguel groaned loud and serious, while he accelerated his hips again on you, leaving a trail of fluids from both of you, in his abdomen, member and groin.
"-You're driving Papi crazy... Hearing you talk like that, feeling your tight pussy squeezing me... it's too much, I'm not going to take much mi amor, you're going to make me come inside you and I'm going to fill your uterus all... until you're totally done with me."
"-Get ready (Y/N), I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to breathe, let alone scream."
"-You're my fucking toy, mi muñeco/muñeca, I own every inch of your pussy, and I'll use it as I please."
"-You love it when I fuck you, don't you? You're a dirty slut (Y/N), Begging for more, craving my cock, You're insatiable, you like to satisfy your Husband? Hm? Tell me mi amor, me tell me you love having my thick cock jammed in your tight, needy pussy."
"-Fuck Mami/Papi... I'm close" -Miguel grumbled as he lifted one of your thighs, looking at your pussy glistening with juices, wet because of him as he thrust with all the strength he could at that moment, the rhythm increasingly erratic for the pleasure he was feeling with your vigorous grip.
"-Are you ready to take my cum (Y/N) Show me how much of a filthy little slut you really are." -Miguel speaks practically shouting, while he gives a last strong thrust, echoing the sound of his skins through the room and coming inside you with a wild and pleasurable growl.
He would fall on his side tired, but still erect and horny, Miguel's tanned body glistened with sweat while the brown hair fell on the spider man's forehead, glued to the skin by fatigue. If you ask him to ride him, he'll freak out and immediately agree, whether he's tired or not, ride this man soon, he needs another round.
"-Of course, baby... You can ride Papi's cock all you want. I want to feel your tight pussy slide down me, taking me deep inside." "-Stay on top of the thick cock daddy, let me see you get down on my cock, let me feel every inch of you."
"-Ride me, baby, yes fuck, that feels so good..." -Miguel spoke between moans, feeling your pussy on top of him, riding hard as you looked him deep in the eyes, watching your husband's face contort with pleasure As O'Hara threw your head back, squeezing your hips tightly as you moaned needfully, you could feel his cock pulsing with every squeeze of your pussy.
"-Take everything I have to give you. You feel so good on my cock, little one."
"-Fuck (Y/N), You're taking my cock so well, my obedient little slut. You're mine to use, to fuck, to pleasure, feel me dominating your tight little pussy, claiming it as mine."
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vampcubus · 9 months
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Inexperienced Virgin!Giyu who’s never even touched himself, only ever cum in his sleep a few times by accident. And when you finally take him into your hot palm, he swears he’s seeing stars, crying out hoarsely as if he didn’t know it could feel good to have his cock touched. And as you work him diligently—ruthlessly to his fast-impending orgasm, he’s in tears over how good it feels.
He’s clinging onto you desperately, his eyes clenched and thin brows pinched in pained ecstasy. Shaking hands hold your shirt in a white-knuckled grip as he humps into the tight tunnel of your fist, trembling as your thumb mercilessly teases his slit. Pre beads at the tip relentlessly no matter how many times you smear it across his creamy head, and when you start to play with his balls he just can't hold on any longer.
His breath becomes frantic, and he struggles to form the right words to warn you.
“I-I think… I think something’s going t-to uhn, come out- please!” his shaking voice pitches higher, mewls forced from his throat as his peak hits him like a train. The feeling is intense and hellish hot, cum jetting out of him and spilling over your fingers. He cries out helplessly, widened blue eyes staring into nothing as he convulses and writhes, hips jerking with every pulse.
You coo at him and stroke him through it, leaning down to swallow his desperate moans with your lips. Eventually, he tugs at your wrist, whimpering that it's "t-too much, it's too much."
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nickgoesinsane · 10 months
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Imagine Jessica (spiderwoman) calls up Hobie to tell him he's got a mission and he's like "Nah got eggs laid in me I can't" and ur laughing in the background because 1. Jess herself went to work pregnant and 2. they aren't even fertilized. He just wants an excuse to have your dick in him some more
-🍽️
“Sorry, Jess,” Hobie says unapologetically, and she gets a clear view of your head tucked into his neck. His grin falters with a grunt, and his eyelids flutter. “Got, mmm, some eggs inside me right now. Can’t go. Y’know how it is.” 
“Hobie.” Jessica sounds tired, and you don’t have to look at her to know she’s giving Hobie a disapproving look. “Stop answering calls when you’re having sex.” 
“Stop callin’ then.” Hobie slurs back, gasping and digging his nails into your back as another egg stretches him open. He forgets about the call and tightens his legs around your waist, his cock drooling against your stomach. “Oooh, fuck, yesyesyes—”
Jess rolls her eyes and hangs up.
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missygoesmeow · 2 months
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caught a little mouse :) you can view the full thing on my patreon
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pennylanewrites · 2 months
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teacher’s aide (levi ackerman)
warnings: m!masturbation, voyerism, alcohol, smoking, age gap (15 years), me pushing my smitten!levi agenda
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levi ackerman was an esteemed and recognised sociology professor. stern, strict and to the point in all of his lectures. most of his classes kept quiet, trying to take notes while he talked fast and went through powerpoint slides like it was the morning paper.
you had been working hard for that teacher’s aide position for two years, when you finally got the acceptance email. it was no secret on campus that professor ackerman’s assistants worked closely to him and got accepted in prestigious firms right after college, with his recommendation of course.
it was also no secret that professor ackerman was incredibly good-looking. his veiny arms and broad shoulders made up for his short height and the way his raven hair fell over his rectangular seeing glasses was so…
“y/n.” his stern voice shook you out of your thoughts. crap. the whole auditorium was staring at you. “the papers.” was all he said before going back to his laptop. you looked down at your hands, realising you were holding the class’s tests for more than you should. you cleared your throat and went through the auditorium, leaving a stack of papers in front of each student. as you walked down, your eye caught his.
levi noticed everything. he noticed how today you were wearing lipgloss instead of your usual lipstick, he noticed the rip in your tights that went down the back of your leg, your new platform loafers and the beads of sweat on your forehead. levi ackerman was not the kind of man that would catch feelings for a student, but you were so…good.
yes, at first he thought you were very attractive, and maybe that’s why he always rejected your aide application. but he also got to know you better every time you replied to one of his questions. you were the only student brave enough to raise their hand, and he appreciated that. sooner than later, you stayed back every day after class to clean up the mess of loose papers and pens, and before he knew it he was smitten.
maybe it was the way you brushed against him to clean the board and shut the projector, a timid apology escaping your lips, or the way you weren’t afraid to challenge him in a theoretical conversation about archaic philosophy during class.
or maybe…shit, how long have i been staring? levi looked away and cleared his throat when he noticed you trying to contain your smile.
class was over and you were going through your usual routine, marking left over questionnaires from the last lecture as he went through tomorrow’s one.
“sir, i’m wondering about…” you rolled your chair across the auditorium’s stage, holding onto his desk to stop the chair, “this one.” you pointed at a question on the paper.
levi was not one to lose his temper, but he was finding it very hard to contain himself when your knee was touching his and your perfume could reach his brain through his nose.
“well, this-this one…” he trailed off, watched you push your hair off your neck, leaving the bare skin on sight for him. god, he could eat you right then and there.
levi had never been more thankful for his phone to ring in his life. the vice dean’s name flashed on the screen, and you leaned back to allow him to get the device.
“i have to go…meeting…come by my office tonight, okay?” he scrambled to get his things and ran off, leaving you in the empty auditorium.
you let your head fall on your pillow, groaning with despair. he hates me. he can’t even talk to me.
you had seen him earlier with petra, his old t.a who graduated last year. he was laughing, for fuck’s sake. he was laughing and buying her coffee in the campus coffee house, and they were sitting over a book and…
“ugh! what is she even doing here?” you threw your pillow on the floor, but it hit you back in the face.
“oh my god, shut up!” your roommate kept hitting you with the pillow, until you grabbed it. “enough, y/n, please.”
“mikasa, do you think they’re dating?” you sat up on the bed, looking at the girl across you. “be honest, i can take it.”
“i think you’re sick. there’s something seriously wrong with you.” she scrunched her nose up in disgust.
“he’s so…”
“old.”
“mature.”
“he’s mature because he’s old.” your roommate kindly reminded you of your age difference. “get over him, please. even if he liked you, he’s your teacher. i doubt he would put his job in danger.”
your eyes lit up, an excited smile covering your earlier gloom.
“you think he likes me?”
“that’s not what i said. where are you going?”
you only grinned before grabbing your bag and barging out of the dorm room. your shoes squeezed against the polished floors as you made your way to the teachers’ wing, and to the third door to your left, your favourite wooden door in the world.
with a sigh, you lifted your fist to knock, but something made you freeze. you looked around to make sure no one was in the corridor, before pushing your ear against the door.
shit, shit, shit, shit
he was moaning. fucking moaning, in his office, when he had specifically told you to visit him. you thought of the possibility of him having a girl in there, even petra, but no one else could be heard. everything right in your head was telling you to turn around and leave, but your hand was on the doorknob, and you were slowly twisting it.
just one look. one look and i’ll-
your eyes grew wide at the sight. a half empty bottle of bourbon sat next to an empty glass, a cigarette was slowly burning on the ashtray, the first two buttons of his white shirt were undone. god, you could clearly see his nipples through the fabric. the desk obscured your vision, but you could see his hand moving up and down, up and down, up-
“fu-fuuuck.” his voice strained, his head fell back and you were wet a creep.
you turned around and leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath. looking at your reflection on your phone, you made sure pervert wasn’t written across your forehead, and turned back around.
two soft knocks on the door. levi fixed his hair quickly, buttoned his shirt and put the cigarette out.
“come in.” you entered the room and he looked at you like a deer caught in the headlights.
“long day?” you pointed at the bottle, smiling softly. he chuckled and motioned for you to sit down. “i can come back some other…” you trailed off when he took another glass out, filling it halfway and pushing it towards you.
you fidgeted with a ring on your finger, unsure of what to do.
“i shouldn’t…”
“i won’t tell if you won’t.” he filled his own glass and raised it to you, before taking a sip. you smiled softly, taking a sip of the drink. it burned coming down, just like his gray stare on you did.
“i have the tests marked. that question i was wondering about earlier,” you took the stack of papers out of your bag, leaving them in front of the man.
“yeah, i looked it up. it’s actually-”
“i figured it out.” you cut him off. he raised an eyebrow and put his glasses on, looking down at the marked paper, and the right answer which you had wrote down in red ink.
“you did.” he agreed and looked at you through strands of his raven hair. “good girl.”
you froze. you could feel your whole face turning an ugly shade of red. a million disgusting thoughts ran through your head as he walked around the desk to sit on the chair across from yours. his muscles flexed as he reached over the desk to get the ashtray and his drink. you took a big sip of the drink, trying to convince yourself the sexual tension was just in your head.
fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck.
“what?” he shook you out of your thoughts. he knew you were staring at him.
“nothing. i’ve never seen you like this.” you admitted, still sipping your drink.
“like what?”
like you don’t have a stick up your ass.
“relaxed.” you opted for the nice comment.
“i’m far from relaxed, trust me.” you watched as he placed a cigarette between his wet lips, lighting it with a white lighter.
“those are bad luck.” you took the lighter in your hand, fidgeting with it.
“huh. maybe that’s why my life’s shit.” he chuckled, taking a drag of the cigarette.
“come on…” your eyes fell on a book on his desk.
masculine domination, pierre bourdieu. you grinned, taking it in your hands to inspect the front page.
“take it. it’s for my doctorate students, but i think you-”
“i’ve read it.” you closed it and put it back on the pile.
“of course you have. you’re a smart girl, you know?”
he was praising you. and he was filling your glass again. when did you even finish the first?
“are you trying to get me drunk, sir?”
“i think you’re capable of controlling yourself.”
“don’t be so sure.” you mumbled, staring at your feet.
“what was that?”
“nothing!” you shook it off with a smile, but he had heard you just fine.
god, you wanted him so bad. as the hours went by, and the bottle came to its’ end, you became more and more impatient. you were scared of what you would do honestly, if one more drop of alcohol entered your system. but, were you crazy to think he wanted this too? why would he pour you a drink, and ask you all these questions, and make you laugh with stupid jokes if he-
“what are you thinking about?” he shook you out of your thoughts. you showed him the clock on the wall.
“that i should get going. some teacher thought it would be a good idea to have an 8 am class.” you grinned. you reached your hand out to return him his lighter, but you dropped it instead.
“that’s one lousy teacher.” he chuckled, kneeling on the floor to get the lighter. you waited for him to get up, so you could too, but he wouldn’t move. still kneeling, he came closer to you, his hands hesitantly moving to rest on the sides of your thighs.
internally, you were screaming. but not a single breath came out of your mouth as you watched him. he sighed and finally locked eyes with you.
“i’m not crazy, am i?”
“wh-what?” your voice came out as a whisper. pathetic.
“to think there’s something, right? here. there’s something here and i-”
“sir-”
“don’t.” he squeezed your thighs and you swore your heart would jump out your chest sooner or later. he straightened his back and got up, pulling you with him. “don’t call me sir.”
you let him seat you on top of his desk, you let him spread your legs and stand between them. he pushed your hair behind your ear and inched closer. his breath against your neck made you shiver, and a soft kiss forced a small gasp out of your mouth.
your hands trembled as you placed them around his neck, and his breath staggered when you played with the strands of hair that fell on his undercut.
“please kiss me.” he swore his knees would give when he heard your voice, so soft, so sweet. you were as needy for him as he was for you.
his strong hands met your face, his silver ring cooled your burning cheek. you closed your eyes, and his lips finally met yours. it was careful at first, both of you scared the other would change their mind. but all it took was you pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt, and he lost his mind. his hands slipped down to your waist and you arched your back to get closer to him, if that was even possible. your mouth trailed to his jaw, leaving sloppy kisses all the way down his neck. a playful bite made him gasp. you chuckled.
“stop. you’ll drive me crazy.” he squeezed your hip.
“good.” you grinned and leaned in to kiss him again, but his hand in your hair held you back.
“you have to go…” he managed between soft kisses down your chest, at least as far as your shirt allowed, “or i won’t be able to stop.” he held your hands, and kissed them both, maintaining eye contact with you.
“then don’t stop.” you whined, but your grin turned into a frown when he pulled you off the desk and fixed your skirt. “levi-”
“save something for later, right?”
his promise of a later was enough. you left him to clean up and walked out the door with a sheepish smile and a whispered goodnight.
your phone buzzed on your way back to the dorms, and you stopped in your tracks when you saw the name on the screen.
professor ackerman: wear that green dress tomorrow.
you raised an eyebrow.
just the dress.
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fallout-tactics · 2 years
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merakiui · 1 day
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since you’ve been looking at captive octotrio again, might you have any captive orca Rollo thoughts to spare?
Omg I have plenty of orca Rollo thoughts!!!
Orca mers are usually such sweet, social creatures, but this doesn't apply to Rollo. Not since he was taken from his pod and put in captivity. He's quite gloomy, spending his days in solitude in his enclosure. When his only form of stimulation is swimming in laps and occasionally interacting with humans (even though he'd rather not), it makes sense that he'd gradually grow irritable over time. But there's one human he softens around and that's you. You always make his situation feel just a little less dismal whenever you're around, and he's grown to appreciate you and the little things you do to make his indefinite stay at the research lab tolerable.
Maybe he's kept there for breeding purposes so that they can breed and observe more orca mers in captivity. It's your job to get him relaxed enough so that you can collect sperm samples from him, and Rollo, despite his hatred and distrust of humans, feels like he's living a wonderful dream as he floats on his back in the water while you do your thing. Hehe maybe he isn't satisfied with this and decides that he'll just give you as many samples as you want (all inside, of course). <3 and he's so much bigger and stronger than you, so there's not much you can do when he props himself up in the shallow ledge and pins you down with his weight.
At the very least, he should be allowed this singular pleasure after all he's had to endure: the loneliness, the captivity, the separation, the tragedy of losing his little brother to the hands of humans... You try to tell him that it won't fit, that he can't do this, that he's supposed to listen and let you do it the right way, but Rollo disagrees. What do you mean 'the right way'? Obviously, this is the right way—the real way when it comes to copulation. And he's being sweet and gentle; unlike your kind, he isn't a monster. So there's really no reason for you to cry and struggle.
Your kind didn't listen to his cries, so why should he listen to yours?
But Rollo likes you, and so he won't kill you. You're not sure if that's a blessing or a curse.
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flametrashira · 6 months
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Bad Pet pt.2
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Pairing: demon pet Douma x f!reader
Summary: You and your pet demon, Douma have grown closer in the weeks he has lived with you, your connection growing stronger with each passing day. But everything changes when things go awry on the night of the demon dance, and your bond becomes something you never imagined possible.
Tags: slow-burn. NSFW. Soft dom!reader x sub!Douma. Biting. Marking. Mating. Blood. Sex (including cunnilingus) during menstruation. Nipple play (his). Part 2 approx 12k words.
Dividers by @benkeibear
Read part 1 here
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"DOUMA! DOUMA NO!" You shrieked with laughter as you abandoned your purse at the door and ran through the house away from the him. “BAD DEMON!”
Another two weeks had passed since the day he danced for you, and in that time you had grown closer. Petting his hair on the couch was now a part of your nightly routine. You'd figured out a feeding schedule which suited you both. Between Kie, her husband Tanjuro, and their eldest son Tanjiro, the arrangements for the dance had been completely taken out of your hands by the helpful Kamados but you were confident it would go well. It was only a day away and Douma was excited beyond measure. 
And this… this new game the two of you played, was now the norm every time you came home from work. The moment you stepped through the door the chase was on. There was no escaping his lanky legs and boisterous tenacity, but running from him was half the fun. 
Douma pounced, wrapping his arms around your waist and dragging you over to the couch where he fell on top of you, the pair of you gasping and giggling as he blew his hair out of his face and grinned. 
"Got ya, little bunny."
It was pointless trying to resist (nor did you want to) but you made a show of it anyway, squirming beneath him as he lifted your arm to his mouth and gently bit your wrist, a growl sounding at the back of his throat which made your toes curl. 
"I take it you missed me?" you laughed as he gnawed on you. 
"Mhm."
"I missed you too."
"Mmh… "
These playbites warmed your heart. It was an immense show of trust from you and restraint from him. His teeth were sharp, his strength supernatural, and yet you felt safe even with such a vulnerable area between his jaws.
Curiosity got the better of you and you leaned in to bite his shoulder, causing him to snort with laughter and release your wrist from his jaws. 
“Ah! Such little teeth!”
Despite his amusement, you still immediately felt guilty for doing it. “Did it hurt?”
Your question only made him laugh harder, and the game evolved into an exchange of bites. He repaid you for yours with a nibble on the inside of your elbow which made you squirm. You got him back with a bite to his bicep which had him sucking in a breath between his giggles, on and on, until finally his teeth were an inch from your lips, his breath fanning hot across them as your smiles faded.
“Shall we call it a tie?” he said, his voice soft, gentle, and just for you.
Your chest tightened as you tried to draw breath. The press of his body against yours was delicious torture; terrible and wonderful all at once. Until you saw the anguish in his rainbow eyes as they fell to the scar on your neck. 
“I did that,” he whispered, pain evident in his wavering voice. “I hurt you.”
“You didn’t mean to. And it’s all healed up now. There’s no harm done.”
He drew around the scar with the tip of his finger, sending a shiver through your body, a heat which pooled between your thighs. 
“Why didn’t you send me away?” he asked.
The question struck you like an arrow to the heart. “Because… you didn’t deserve it.”
“I’ve been sent away for less. By humans I lived with for longer.”
“I’m not them–”
“No… no, you’re not, are you?” He smiled softly and lowered his head to rest his cheek against your chest.  With every passing moment your face grew hotter as he coiled his fingers around yours, “May I tell you something. Something I don’t believe was in my file.”
You nodded. “Yeah. Yeah of course.”
“The day I was born I was bought by an elderly couple. I’ve often wondered why they wanted a demon baby instead of a human– maybe cost, maybe because I was interesting, maybe something else. Whatever the reason, they were kind to me.” His eyes grew distant. “The man I was raised to call father had girlfriends. My mother discovered his infidelity and murdered him. Stabbed him forty-seven times in the chest and then turned the knife on herself. I was eight years old and three feet away.”
Your blood ran cold at his story, feeling as though you had just been dropped off a ledge through freezing air. “Oh Douma, I’m so sorry.”
“I felt empty. Nothing. I saw it all happen. I remember their faces, I can still smell the blood. And all I could think about was the mess I had been left to clean. And when I was picked up by the shelter, they called me a monster for it, soulless, evil.”
Anger simmered inside you. No wonder he was closed off emotionally. How could anyone get through that and be okay afterward? Let alone an eight year-old child. And there was no counseling for demons, no therapy, no care. Just abandonment and punishment. 
Douma raised his head and smiled. “Your heart is beating so fast, little bunny. Please don’t get upset on my behalf."
“Of course I’m upset. That shouldn’t have happened to you. None of it. And I’m so sorry it did.” Tears welled as you tried to remain calm. The frustration at not being able to do a damn thing about any of it was more than you could bear. “I can’t undo any of it, but I can promise you that your life isn’t going to be like that anymore. Never again.”
Douma simply stared in stunned silence at you. "You care so much, don't you?"
"Yes, of course I do. I love–" You froze, your breath catching in your throat. 
You were getting overwrought, you told yourself. His story, the intimacy of lying together on the couch… not to mention your hormones. The fact that your period was due any day; it was too much.
"I care about you, Douma. I want you to be okay."
"I am," he assured you. "I'm so happy here with you." With a sigh he lowered his head back down to your chest. "I'm excited to dance with you tomorrow night. I’m excited to dress up and look pretty at my mistress’s side. Since coming to you I've found I'm more and more excited for each tomorrow. I'm happy to wake up, and I fall asleep to hopeful thoughts."
Your hand seemed to move on its own, resting on the back of his head, your fingers threading through the silken strands of his hair. The red patch now covered most of the top of his head, and stroking it elicited a deep, rumbling purr from the depths of his chest. 
“You treat me so well,” he murmured. “I want to be with you forever.”
“So do I,” you said, closing your eyes and just enjoying the sensation of being close to him.
"I belong to you," he said, and your heart squeezed.
There was no point in denying it to yourself any longer. 
You were in love with a demon. 
Your demon.
Your Douma. 
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“How do I look?” Douma held out his arms and twirled for you in the hallway. Since that night would be a special one, he’d chosen to wear his biggest white hakama pants and a blood-red top which clung faithfully to his figure. 
“Amazing!”
“Pretty?”
“Very!”
It filled him with pride whenever you complimented him. Especially now you were more comfortable with it. He didn’t sense that constant anxious hum coming from you as you smiled at him 
And he saw your eyes wandering over his torso– oh yes, he most certainly did.
But unlike with his previous owners, your gaze didn’t make him uncomfortable or make him feel like a lifeless object. No, your gaze was a blessing. It tightened a coil in the pit of his belly and made his cheeks grow warm.
And you looked beautiful yourself in your lovely black dress which matched the leather of his harness. But you were struggling with something at the back of your neck, the clasp to a black velvet choker. 
“Need help?”
“Yeah… I think so…”
He didn’t even think twice about it, stepping forward to assist you with your necklace, carefully slipping the little golden clasp through its hoop and securing it around your neck. It was only when he was done, when you turned around to face him that his lungs suddenly emptied. 
He had just put a collar on you. 
A delicate velvet one, yes, but a collar nevertheless. And he adored it on you. 
Maybe the significance was entirely in his head, maybe you thought nothing of it, but just for the night he would allow himself to believe that’s what it was. That while you were his mistress, you belonged to him. You belonged to each other; he in his harness and you with your matching collar, letting everyone know you were a pair meant to be together. Oh, he was practically giddy at the thought. Warmth spread from the top of his head to the tips of his toes as he fought back the urge to pounce on you. 
He wanted to bite, to chew, to hear you giggle and press his body against yours. And he wanted… he wanted you to claim him in return. He wanted you to fuck him so badly the ache went bone-deep. Soul deep, even. He wanted you to tell him what to do, to please and pleasure you, to obey and fulfill and serve you. 
“Thank you,” you said, touching your fingertips to the necklace and giving him a smile which made his heart– and his cock– lift. “Are you ready to dance?”
“I’m so ready.”
He could hardly draw breath the entire journey to the club. Everything you did; the way your fingers slid across the steering wheel, thigh shifting as you switched between the brake and gas, lips parting as you checked the rearview mirror made him burn. The orange glow of streetlights cast you in an ethereal light. He couldn't stop glancing down at the seatbelt snaking between your breasts.
Something was happening to him, that much was clear. Something he had never experienced before. He'd never found himself so hot and bothered by literally every movement. Even the subtle sounds of your breaths made his cock ache. 
"You're so beautiful, mistress," he said, enjoying the way your blush crept over your cheeks. 
You didn't speak, but you didn't have to. He could feel your attraction to him, feel your conflict, your desire, your hunger. You wanted to devour him as badly as he wanted you. 
You were nervous in a different way than usual. It was contagious. 
Soon the roads became faintly familiar, and when the train tracks came into view his mind started to whirr. "Where are we going?"
"Check the glovebox…"
He did as you asked and found a simple black collar nestled away. "What–?"
"Well, I couldn't stop thinking about how you asked if Enmu could come to the dance, so I stopped by to see him the other day after work and talked to him about it. He said he'll wear a collar just for a little while and pretend he's mine. And he'll be on his best behavior."
A wave of emotion hit Douma, a negative emotion so sudden and powerful it startled him. It was new and uncomfortable. And it made no sense at all. He was touched that yet again you had gone out of your way to give him something he'd asked for– something illegal to boot. But there was also something less pleasant welling inside him, burning in the center of his chest. He felt sick when he imagined you putting the collar onto the dream demon. 
"Douma? Are you okay?"
He remembered himself and put on a bright smile. "Just peachy!"
You gave him a sidelong glance. "You sure?"
"Positive!"
“It’s just for tonight, and we’ll drop him right back off at the shed when we’re done.” Your brow furrowed, still keeping your eyes on the road but stealing glances in his direction, constantly checking on him as though you could read his mind. And when you finally pulled up outside the abandoned train shed you turned to him, eyes full of concern. “Douma… did I overstep? Was this the wrong thing to do?”
Oh, you sweet anxious little bunny. Of course you would think that. Of course your gut reaction was to assume you did wrong. He reached out and placed his hand on your shoulder, hoping his touch would reassure you where his words had failed to do so. “Not at all, my lamb. Never.”
The way your breath hitched at his gesture made his throat tighten. 
Gods, what was this… this feeling between the two of you? It was akin to ravenous hunger, but rather than feeling it in his belly it was in every cell of his body. He’d enjoyed sex before but he’d never craved it this way. If he gave in to his urges he’d have you right there in the car. 
Your lips parted as your eyes met his, shivers of excitement tingling across the surface of his skin. You leaned toward him, and he toward you. The space between you closed and he found himself sucking in a breath of anticipation.
A presence just in front of the car drew Douma’s attention, and he turned to see Enmu standing just a few feet away from the hood, illuminated by the headlights of the car. 
“Fuck!” You gasped in shock, covering your heart with your hand before bursting into laughter. “I should have gotten him a collar with a bell on it. He scared the shit out of me.”
Douma chuckled, but that nauseating sickness returned as the dream demon climbed into the back of the car and sat in the middle seat. 
“Good evening,” Enmu said in a voice so soft it sounded as though it would shatter. “Oh, human… your heart is racing. Did I startle you?”
“Yeah, a little,” you laughed as you handed him the collar. 
“How wonderful!”
And just like that, the exchange was over. You didn’t put the collar on Enmu at all, he did it to himself. The quiet metallic click from the back seat set Douma’s heart at ease. 
He was still your one and only pet.
You were still his mistress and no one else's.
The rest of the car ride was as pleasant as can be, with Enmu cooing in the back seat over the dreams he could feel coming from the apartment complexes you drove by. You gave Douma a passing sidelong glance, the corner of your lips curving into a smile just for him. Oh how he adored you, how he wanted you, how he needed you. 
By the time you pulled up in the parking lot of the Crimson Lily every muscle in his body was tense with the urge to pounce upon you, fuck you, lick you, bite, kiss, gods, anything. He didn’t even care that Enmu was there. He would have fucked you right in front of him if you wouldn’t mind it. His body was alight with desire; an intense and all consuming heat. 
Heat. 
Was that what this was? Was he finally going into heat for real for the first time in his life. The prospect was thrilling and mortifying all at once. He wasn’t entirely naive about it all. He knew what going into heat entailed: the fevers, the ravenous desire, the suffering if his urges were not satiated. And he knew he wanted to satiate those urges with you. Only you. 
It wasn’t even supposed to be possible for demons and humans to mate, and yet he couldn’t deny the call of his biology. It wasn’t another demon. It was you. It had to be you.
Would you even allow it though? You were always so anxious about not taking advantage of him, of not allowing yourself to give in to your own desire because of the power balance you perceived between the two of you. It didn’t matter to you that he was bigger, stronger, equipped with sharp fangs and lethal claws. All you saw was your title; Mistress, and the responsibility you felt because of it. The guilt. 
As you headed into the club together, lured by the siren's call of heavy bass lines and neon light, he placed his palm on your lower back, desperate to make contact, feeling overwhelming comfort just from the warmth of your skin beneath his hand. And the way that you smiled at him, so full of pride at your pretty pet… God… he wanted you. And he was going to go mad if he didn't have you. 
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"Oh wow!" the club's owner practically purred the moment she laid eyes on Douma. "Well, hello there, beautiful." 
Your body stiffened as the gorgeous white-haired woman reached out to scratch your demon affectionately beneath the chin. 
Her wide blue eyes drifted over his features. "Do you like to dance, pet?"
"Oh, of course I love to dance!" Douma said, his face alight with excitement as he leaned into the affection with a wide grin. 
It shouldn't have made you feel, well, anything, but you couldn't deny the wave of nausea in the pit of your stomach. Oh, you could kid yourself that it was purely because she’d touched him without his permission, or you were worried about him being exploited, but you knew there was a little more to it than that. The truth was, as the woman continued to shower Douma in praise and affection, you were jealous.
“You have such a pretty face! God, look at your eyes! And that body. Wow! No horns or marks so you’re not a purebred, and you’re not ugly so not a simple mutt either. You’re a designer breed, right? You've gotta be.” At last she turned to you, "He'd do well here, if you ever want to rent him out to us. There's a small but avid clientele for demons, especially pretty ones. You’d make a fat wad from him."
The money wasn’t tempting in the slightest, but the excitement in Douma’s smile was enough to stop you dismissing it outright. “We’ll think about it.”
The owner tossed her hair over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows, as if offended you hadn’t bitten off her hand at the offer. “One human, two demons, right?”
“Right,” you confirmed as she took your credit card and swiped it, paying you into the club. 
“Ume!” A man’s voice called from the club’s security office. “For fuck’s sake, the one you’re going all gaga over doesn’t even have a collar on! He can’t come in.” A moment later he appeared, raking a bony hand through his tousled green hair. “You never were the smartest. Good thing I’m here to help keep this place running.”
“Shut up!” the woman snapped. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Wait, but he’s wearing a harness,” you said, your heart rate spiking with panic as you realized you might have been careless. Maybe you’d screwed up and ruined Douma’s night already.
Your demon simply smiled and gave his leash a confident tug. “I’m a bad pet,” he said, his voice dripping with seduction as he stepped closer to you. “I have to wear a harness instead of a collar. It gives my mistress more control over me. She makes sure I'm a good boy."
The green-haired security guard frowned, his gaze falling to you, then Enmu, and finally Douma. “I’m going to be watching you three closely tonight, and if I suspect you’re putting the rest of the guests in danger, you’re out. Understand? I don’t care what my idiot little sister says, we have a no tolerance policy against fighting.”
“We’ll be good,” you assured him, relief crashing over you as the heat rose on your cheeks.
"Go on in," the woman said, jutting her chin toward the door. 
You walked into the main room of the club, flanked by Douma and Enmu on the end of their leashes as the brother and sister bickered behind you. Their argument was quickly drowned out by the music coming from within.
The main room, or lounge as the red neon sign above the doorway called it, was bathed in crimson light as sumptuous music blasted from the speakers. A handful of demons were socializing and dancing on the dancefloor. A long stage took up the center of the room, and on that stage were two silver poles and a giant glittering bird cage. No one was dancing up there. Not yet, anyway.
You were early, but there were already dozens of demons and their humans socializing with each other, and it only took you a moment to locate the Kamados. You turned around to let Douma and Enmu know the names of the demons but found Enmu had disappeared, his leash hanging loose in your hand.
Shit.
“Where did he go?” you asked, panic rising in your chest as you scanned the surrounding booths for signs of the dream demon.
“He’ll be back, Mistress,” Douma said, leaning down to put his lips close to your ear, combating the noise from the music. “Don’t worry about anything tonight, okay? Let's just have… fun.” 
With every gentle brush of his lips against the shell of your ear your heart fluttered. Your eyes closed involuntarily, your body reacting to his touch with shivers of electricity and rising heat. 
The bass vibrated through your body as Douma’s hand returned to the curve of your back, his claws drawn just a little, their caress sending tingles right to your core. With just a simple touch, he managed to empty the air from your lungs and send heat pooling between your thighs. 
The sex-drenched atmosphere in the club, the pounding music, Douma's touch, his scent, his beauty, it was more than you could stand, and you’d only been there for two minutes. 
You tried to keep your composure as Kie and Tanjuro Kamado waved over at you, the couple already talking to a number of guests and playing the part of the gracious party hosts. Some part of you–okay, a big part–was grateful they'd taken the planning away from you. You were completely free to enjoy yourself–to enjoy your time with Douma.
The pair of you headed to a booth, squeezing behind the table to sit on the plush red leather bench behind. Your thigh pressed against his as you sat close, sending frissons of excitement through your body. 
Gods, what were you doing? What were you thinking?
The sight of him in that damn harness, his chest now so full and soft from all your care it made your pussy wet just to look at. The urge to touch him, caress him, make him blush and whimper and feel– It was all-consuming. Strapped up on the end of your leash, his big, pretty eyes and charismatic smile just full of adoration… he was too beautiful. Too tempting. You couldn’t stand it. 
"Do you want me to take off your leash so you can socialize?" You asked, yelling above the music and unsure of what you wanted the answer to be.
Douma simply smiled, and leaned into you, resting his head on your shoulder. "No, mistress, I want to stay with you."
He stayed like that for a long time, quietly watching the other demons dance, his fingers curling around the leash connecting you. 
Every breath was a struggle as you kept looking ahead, watching as the Kamado’s eldest son hurried around with an eager smile, chatting to various guests and doing whatever he could to keep the party going. It would have been a good distraction, if not for the way Douma’s breaths fanned across the top of your breasts and made your flesh pebble.
“You came,” a dark, enchanting voice said by your ear. You found yourself side-by-side with Muzan, the Kamado’s demon. You hadn't even noticed him squeeze into the booth beside you, and from the way he shot upright, neither had Douma. 
Muzan wore an elegant black suit, with a matching black and gold paisley collar, which disguised the discreet but powerful shock pack which was capable of issuing electric shocks to subdue him should he get out of hand. 
“Oh, hi Muzan,” you greeted him with a warm smile he did not return. Controlling your breathing, you tried to appear unaffected by the flood of arousal coursing through your body. But a moment later you felt a gentle pressure on your shoulder as the older demon nuzzled it in greeting as he always did when you’d prepared his food in the past. You couldn’t help but feel a little fond of the curmudgeonly old guy. “Of course I came! This was really Douma’s idea—”
Crimson eyes darted over your head, and Muzan’s pupils narrowed as he glowered in Douma’s direction. His lips parted around a silent syllable but promptly snapped shut.
Something unspoken passed between Douma and Muzan, something you felt you had only ever seen on wildlife documentaries; a deep, primal rivalry.
The air between them–the air you occupied– crackled with energy, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You could have sworn you heard a low growl pass between the two demons even above the music. Muzan’s eyes were murderous, but Douma… Douma was simply smiling, unfazed, unblinking, and that was somehow just as intimidating. 
“Hey,” you said, though which demon you were addressing you hadn’t quite decided. You only knew you had to say something to relieve the tension. “Douma… do you want to dance with me?”
Muzan’s intense glare fell to you as you reached behind you and took Douma’s hand in yours, not even considering how it would look to the other humans and their demon pets who were all free to roam or led properly on their leashes. None of them were holding hands, only you and he.
“Oh my my, mistress,” he said as the warmth returned to his smile. His opaline eyes flashed with excitement, the tension with Muzan seemingly forgotten. “I thought you’d never ask.”
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The music blared, but the pounding of Douma's heartbeat in his ears thundered even louder. You kept hold of his leash of course, but you were also brazenly holding his hand in front of everyone! Like you were proud to be his mistress, claiming him as he longed to claim you.
Oh goodness, the music, the light, the eyes of every demon and human on the pair of you as you led him to the dancefloor. The shy little smile you gave him as you turned to face him made his chest ache. Leave it to you to be concerned about the opinions of others.
You were close, but there were still a few inches of space between you, the tone of your dance playful and innocent despite the sexual undertones of the music. He twirled you, spinning you around as you laughed, the way he sometimes did at the end of the chase game right before it turned to biting. 
He took great pleasure in your delighted squeal as he lifted you up onto the little stage and joined you a moment later, not giving you time to worry as he gripped the pole and spun around it the way his old owners had him do. Only this time there was no pressure, no demands to perform for party goers or for foreplay. No, this was what he wanted. He wanted to be sexy for you, he wanted to display his body, his muscles, his strength. Because he wanted to be a good mate for you; a mate to be proud of, who could protect you with his life and submit to you in bed. 
And then the music changed. It was a song made for closeness, for slow grinding, for fucking, and the longer it went on, the longer Douma couldn’t stand the distance between you. 
People were watching but he couldn’t have cared less as he snaked his arm around your waist, drawing you closer, until your bodies were pressed together, your breath heating his lips, your eyes dancing over his face as you rocked in harmony with the music. 
Dancing with you like that was heaven and hell, every cell in his body was alight with desire and need, so close and yet so far to what he wanted. His cock ached as your hips moved with his, your arm sliding around his shoulders, fingers splayed across his muscles as he maneuvered you between the pole and his body.
Douma was intoxicated by the scent of you; your body, your arousal. He could smell it on you, it poured from you and flooded his senses. And there was something else. Blood. You were very close to menstruating. Gods, and that scent was more than he could bear.
Feral need flooded him, and before he knew what was happening the dance turned to something far more intimate. His hips rolled against you, his thigh pressing between yours, the little startled cry of pleasure you emitted making him harder than he had ever been in his life. 
God, he needed you, he needed to whisk you away that instant, take you to a bathroom stall and beg you to ride him until he couldn’t take anymore. He needed to bite you, mark you and be marked, claim you and be claimed, mate with you, live and die with you. You were everything. Everything. And you were in his arms, flushed, lips quivering, your body reacting to his. His owner. His mistress. His.
“Douma—”
He was delirious with need as he ground his pelvis against you, his cock weeping at the thought of your pussy separated by only thin fabrics his claws could make such short work of. Rubbing himself against you, he pressed his face to your neck, a desperate whine escaping him as his grip tightened around the pole. 
“Douma…” you gasped his name, gripping his shoulders and pulling back from him. “Douma we need to stop.”
Your tone was firm and final. His breaths were hard, his body tingling from top to bottom, and it hurt to draw back from you, the distance sending spears of agony through him, but he did it. He pulled back. He stopped dancing. Because disobeying you, hurting you, scaring you, having you look at him with such fear and disappointment was worse than all of it. And the shame. The shame was crushing.
“I’m sorry, mistress,” he said, his hand instinctively coming up to cover the clip connecting his harness to the leash. “I was bad, wasn’t I?”
You glanced around at the crowd. A few were watching, visibly perturbed by what they’d witnessed. And of course, you hated that. He smelled the anxiety spike in you. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I’m sorry–” was all he could manage. 
You drew in a breath, filling your lungs and shaking your head. “It’s okay. I… I was dancing with you too. But maybe it isn’t such a good idea for tonight.”
His heart shattered at that. He’d looked forward to dancing with you for so long and he’d ruined it in a matter of minutes. 
"I'll be good," he said, the desperation in his heart cracking his voice. "I'll be a good pet for you. Please dance with me again. I need to feel— I need you, mistress."
"We can later… maybe. I need to take a break. I need to find Enmu," you said, looking away from him. "I'll be back in a minute I just… I need to cool off for a second, okay?"
He understood. It hurt but he got it. Humans and demons weren't supposed to do the things he wanted to do with you. And you were so anxious about everything all the time, he was a fool to even hope you might have accepted it. He was definitely a fool for letting his physical urges take over in public, elevated on the stage where everyone could see. 
You climbed down leaving him up there like a lonely statue on a plinth beside the metal cage meant for dancing. And it hurt. Somehow just you walking away from him for a moment hurt worse than every other owner sending him to the shelter. It hurt worse than the moment he overheard that he was to be destroyed.
It hurt because he had disappointed you. And it hurt because he loved you so completely that pain and happiness were intertwined.
He pulled in a breath as he watched you walk away, his body still throbbing with that deep, primitive heat he would endure for eternity if it meant re-earning your trust. He would be good. So good for you.
“How abhorrent,” Muzan snarled from the bottom of the stage. “You’re in heat and want to mate with your owner–is that correct?” 
The hairs on the back of Douma’s neck bristled. It was clear this demon was powerful and angry.
“It’s an abomination,” the older demon continued, pulling himself up onto the stage without any effort. “And I won’t allow it.”
Before Douma could react, Muzan shoved him, his palms hitting Douma’s chest with such force it sent him flying back into the cage. The earth shook as the back of Douma’s head smacked against a metal bar, 
“I should kill you,” Muzan said, slamming the door and holding it closed. 
Try as he might, Douma couldn’t even open it a crack. Panic gripped him, closing his throat, chilling his blood. Yet again he was left alone in a cage. Only this time he wasn’t numb. This time he was terrified. Fear drowned out logic, and every sinew in his body screamed at him to escape, to get back to you. “Let me out!”
“No. You belong in a cage. You don’t deserve to be let free. Despicable, perverse, twisted creature. Your beloved mistress should have left you to die.’
“LET ME OUT!” he cried. “LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT!”
Muzan’s blank stare turned to a smirk, his pale hands gripping the same metal bars as Douma’s. “How pathet—”
A sharp zapping sound silenced Muzan, and a spear of pain darted through Douma’s hands, his arms, all the way to his chest. His heart emptied, his vision blurred, and his panic rose.
Terror sharpened his senses and made them bleed into each other. He was no longer sure of what was happening, only that he was in pain, he was still locked in the cage, humans were yelling, Muzan’s claws were reaching out toward his shoulder. Instinct took over and he lashed out in turn, his claws only half-drawn by the time they connected with the demon’s flesh.
Only it wasn’t a demon he clawed. No, he recognized that scent right away. It wasn’t demon, but  human blood smeared across his hands.
The smell brought the world into sharp focus. 
Muzan’s mistress was clutching her arm, her eyes wide with shock and fear as people gathered round and inspected the claw marks slicing her wrist.
“He bit her!” a voice called. “I’m calling the cops. He shouldn’t be in here. He’s dangerous.”
White hot terror flooded every part of Douma’s body.
No.
No no no no NO. 
Not again. Not again. 
He was going to be taken back to that awful place.
He was going to be taken away from you.
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“Oh! Wait up!” Tanjiro called out as he chased you down the hallway near the bathrooms. 
Your cheeks were still flushed scarlet despite holding a wet paper towel to them, your pulse thumping as you tried your best to fill your lungs. It was mortifying that you had been dry humped by your demon in front of the rest of the guests. But what was even worse is that you had loved it. The feeling of his body against yours, the heat, the frantic, animalistic need for each other. The sight of him with his leash and harness. It had felt so good. So wicked. So perfect.
None of it had been helped by the fact that you were cramping either. 
“Tanjiro, hey,” you greeted the young man, trying to sound as though your heart wasn’t still vibrating with the excitement and shame of arousal. “Everything okay?”
“Of course!” he said brightly. “But there is a small problem with one of the demons and someone said he was yours.”
Your stomach dropped. Had something happened to Douma while you were cooling off in the bathroom? Was he hurt? “Oh god–”
“Don’t worry! It’s nothing we can’t handle,” Tanjiro said, holding out his hands as if to soothe you. “You came here with a dream demon, right?”
“Enmu?” 
“That’s right! He’s uh… putting the guests to sleep and narrating their dreams. It’s kind of creeping people out.”
A burst of relieved laughter escaped you as you put your hand over your heart and felt your lungs fill once more. Douma was safe, and it was just a simple case of wrangling the stray demon you had illegally smuggled into a lapdancing bar. No biggie. 
“Where is he?” you asked. 
Tanjiro wasted no time leading you to the side room where Enmu was sprawled on his back across a large padded couch, surrounded by unconscious guests. 
The dream demon had a wide smile on his face as he released an almost orgasmic sigh. “What a feast. So many beautiful dreams. So many secrets and desires. Ahh… I could stay here forever.”
You couldn’t help but smile. His power was mostly harmless, if a little creepy. “Enmu, come on… you have to let these people wake up.”
He rolled the back of his head across the plush of the couch to face you. “Well that’s no fun.”
“Neither is sleeping through an entire party. Wake them up.”
He hummed thoughtfully and rolled his eyes. “Just a little longer, please. It’s been so long since I was surrounded by so many dreams.”
“Enmu…”
“Oh, fine. Awaken.”
The guests began to stir and Enmu climbed to his feet, walking toward you with a wide smile. The demon’s pale blue eyes shot to Tanjiro, then back to you. “I’m enjoying this party immensely.”
“Good. Just stay close, okay? And later on maybe I’ll let you listen to my dreams. Deal?”
Enmu’s smile turned to a sinister smirk. “The dreams of someone in love? Ahh… how wonderful. Agreed.”
Your face heated. “I’m not in love.”
“If you insist.” Enmu giggled quietly. “Very well then, mistress. I’ll stick by your side.”
Tanjiro got to work helping the groggy guests back to their feet and fetching them glasses of water as you and Enmu headed back out to the main lounge of the club. “I’m glad you’re having a good time, Enmu.”
The dream demon sighed longingly. “One of them was dreaming of beating his own father with a baseball bat. It was glorious. I wonder what you dream about… sharp fangs… golden hair and rainbow eyes?”
“Stop!” Your cheeks grew warm but you couldn’t help but laugh. In some strange way it was nice to know you were so obviously smitten. It was exciting, even if the feeling was forbidden. And as Enmu continued theorizing, it felt as if you finally had someone to confess it all to, even if you kept denying it. “Actually, no I’m not letting you listen to my dreams. You can have meat instead.”
“Ah… very well. You’d be surprised how many humans dream of their demons in that way. And vice versa of course. Such forbidden thoughts. Such deliciously taboo dreams.”
“They do?” 
“Oh, yes. Wicked dreams are my favorites.”
You entered the lounge together. A crowd had gathered around the stage, some people stood on it, others stood at floor level. The club’s owner and the green-haired security guard were there, though you could only see the guard from behind, crouched on the floor and visibly struggling with someone. 
“Has there been a fight?” you asked, but Enmu simply smiled. Something about the scene gave you a deeply uneasy feeling. You were already taking your first hurried steps, heart leaping into your throat as you spoke your fear aloud, “Where’s Douma?”
Kie Kamado called out your name, drawing your attention toward her. Your blood ran cold at the sight of her wounded wrist. “I tried to tell them it was an accident. I’m okay but someone called the police—”
“Douma!” 
Gods, no no no you’d failed him. You’d left him alone and he was in danger. 
You pushed through the crowd toward where the security guard was crouched, confirming your worst fears; Douma, pinned to the ground, his eye swollen and bruised, his cheeks streaked with tears. He didn’t speak, he didn’t have to– the look on his face was one of pure terror and helplessness. 
“Get off him!” you yelled.
“Get back!” the security guard bellowed back. “The cops are on their way.”
“He’s mine. He’s my pet, let me deal with him.” Your heart was pounding, your vision shaking with panic as you got to your knees, facing the security guard but positioning yourself above Douma. “Please don’t send him away.”
“He bit a woman!”
“It was an accident!” Kie called from behind you. “I keep telling you but no one will listen. I shocked my demon and Douma got caught in it. He lashed out because he was scared. It wasn’t even a bite!”
“No tolerance policy,” the guard said with a tone of finality. “He’s gone.”
Your heart and mind raced at a thousand miles per hour, panic consuming you along with the acknowledgement of the simple truth; you wouldn’t let them take him. They’d have to pry you apart. You didn’t even feel human anymore as you stared down the security guard, the urge to punch him right in his smug fucking face overwhelming you.
In that moment you felt as if you were the demon and Douma the helpless human. You were ready to go to war for him, blood boiling, jaw clenched, ready to defend him by any means.
“Gyutaro, get the hell off him,” the club’s owner snapped, shoving him on his wide shoulder. “God, you’re so stupid. Can’t you see everything’s fine? Just let him go back to his owner.”
“I’m stupid? You’re the one who let him in and he assaulted a customer. Ume, you really aren’t the sharpest tool in the box, are you?”
“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?”
“An idiot, that’s who!”
As they started to bicker, the security guard stood, allowing Douma to finally sit back up. He flung himself into your arms, knocking the air from your lungs as he burrowed his face in your neck.
“Don’t let them take me from you. Please,” he begged, the helplessness in his voice making your heart ache. 
“Never. Douma, they’d have to kill me first. I’m never letting you go.”
"Get him out of here," the security guard barked without taking his eyes off his sister. "You're both barred from ever coming back."
You found yourself so relieved you could cry.
Douma clung to you, the tension in his body melting a little more with every passing moment. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” The words flowed from your lips as easily as breath. You pulled back to look him in the eyes. The injury above his eyebrow was already healing. “You wanna go home?”
He nodded.
“Okay.” You kissed his forehead reassuringly. “Let’s go home.”
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Douma’s heart was heavy. It was a sensation he was unaccustomed to, one which drowned out the throbbing pain above his eye where the security guard had punched him. Even the electric shock had paled in comparison to the ache in his chest. It hurt so much that even the feverish desire of his heat was all but gone.
And he wasn’t even sure what it was. His heart felt like lead.
You lay with him on the couch; you on your back, him on top of you, resting his head on your chest as you gently pet his hair. All he wanted was to be close to you, to listen to the steady thump of your heart and bask in the warmth and scent of your body. He’d begged you not to remove his harness, and you’d listened, of course you had. You seemed to understand how much it meant to him now, that he saw it as a comfort, a symbol of your bond, and not an oppression as you had initially feared. 
“I’m so sorry, Douma,” you said again, the leash still looped around your wrist. “I wanted this night to be perfect for you and it all got completely fucked up.”
“It wasn’t your fault, dove,” he reassured you. “You did something for me that no one has ever done. None of my previous owners have ever refused to let me be taken. None of them. Just you.”
The evening hadn’t ended on the worst note. Kie Kamado had been very kind to him, and even forced Muzan to apologize for his behavior. And Enmu was back home in his train shed with a large lamb shank to gnaw on. 
And yet…
“I’m so sorry I embarrassed you, mistress,” Douma said with a sigh. “I shouldn’t have danced with you that way. I…” he drew a breath. It was better to be honest. “I believe I’ve entered my heat. It’s never happened before.”
“Oh…” Your breath and your heartbeat quickened, he could hear them in your chest. “Well… that’s a good thing. It means you’re healthy, right?”
“I suppose it does.” He chuckled. Of course that would be your reaction; seeing it as a measure of his health and wellbeing instead of a primal desire to mate with you. You sweet thing. 
A heavy silence hung between you, broken only by the beating of your heart against his ear. “So,” you said at last. “Does that mean you want to find another demon? A mate?”
He could hear the trepidation in your voice, the nervous waver. He could sense your anxiety as you waited for his answer, but this time it wasn’t just a smell, it wasn’t just something he observed. No, this time he felt it. 
His heart beat faster. His skin prickled with nervous heat. 
His throat grew tight as he raised his head to gaze at you; his mistress, the only mate he wanted.
“No,” he said, that painful heaviness in his heart growing unbearable. “I’ll endure it.”
“Isn’t that painful?”
“It’s not as bad as they say,” he lied.
You looked back at him and nodded. “Okay, but if you change your mind—”
“I won’t.” He lowered his head once more to your chest. “I’m happy right now, just to be held by you. Tonight hurt.”
“I know,” you said softly, gently caressing his hair. "I'll hold you for as long as you like."
Later that night, when you could barely keep your eyes open, the pair of you went to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash up before bed. He watched you in the mirror, his heart soothed simply by the sight of you cleaning your funny little teeth, scrubbing the makeup off your pretty little face. You were fascinating and comforting, exciting and safe, and he loved you. So, so much. 
When you were done cleaning up he took your hand in his and led you toward his room, “Please stay with me tonight, mistress. At least until I fall asleep.”
"Douma…"
"I don't want to be alone."
It was mostly true– he didn't– but if he was completely honest, it was because he didn't want to be without you. He simply didn’t want to be apart from you ever. You may not have physically been his mate, but in his heart you were already bound. And if that meant him spending the rest of his life hurting then so be it. Agony was a small price to pay for your company.
You paused at the threshold of his room, watching as he climbed onto the bed and moved aside some of his pillows to make space for you to join him. The leash stretched between you, still connecting your hand to his heart. 
“Douma, are you sure?”
He simply held out his arms toward you, inviting you into his embrace. And when you hesitated a moment longer, he tugged on the leash.
Your resolve crumbled so quickly, and with a resigned smile you climbed onto the bed and flopped down beside him, one arm immediately coming to rest across his shoulder so you could resume your never ending task of petting his hair. Douma’s arm nestled in the valley of your waist, his fingers stroking slow spirals around your lower back. 
Despite lying together on the couch all the time, somehow this was different. His heart squeezed at the sight of you lying with your head on his pillow. It felt more intimate, forbidden and wonderful.
“You’re so pretty,” he said.
Your shy little smile made his belly flutter. “So are you. But you knew that already.”
“Yeah,” he laughed. “And I like being pretty for you. Your pretty pet.” 
‘You’re far more than just that.”
Oh, how he adored you. You brought up your other hand to his mouth, making his lips curve as he playfully nibbled your fingers, feeling his heart lighten with your playful laughter. You were never afraid of his fangs or claws and it warmed his heart to know that you trusted him, despite having every reason not to. You trusted your bad pet, you had done since the moment you met him. And he loved you so completely in return.
He bit you again, this time on the heel of your palm, his fangs pressing to that tender flesh without breaking the skin. Of course he wouldn't ever hurt you, but he still kissed the bite better when he released you, his lips grazing over your skin with adoration. 
Your breath snagged in your throat.
He knew the feeling. You had kissed his brow in the club, and that gentle, loving gesture had shone like a sunbeam through storm clouds. It made him happy to give you the same sweet affection, so he kissed your palm again, then your wrist, before he returned to biting, nibbling his way up your arm which always made you squirm so delightfully. 
“Douma!” You squealed his name as he slung his thigh over your hips, playfully holding you down as his teeth grazed your shoulder, then your collar, before finally reaching your throat. 
Laughter gave way to sighs, and smiles faded as he bit and kissed your neck, his tongue tracing the little indents his teeth left behind. “Oh little rabbit,” he whispered against your skin. “How I adore you.”
"If I'm a rabbit, what does that make you? A fox?"
He raised his head, his eyes meeting yours. "Your carrot. Chew me up."
Oh the snort of laughter which burst from you was beautiful. He could spend the rest of his life like that with you.
"You want me to bite you?" You laughed.
"Yes!" He did. Desperately so.
And then you raised your head and rolled over, burying your sweet little face against the tender skin of his neck, and biting down as he had with you.
"Ohh‐hahh~" He couldn't contain the broken whimper which emerged from him. Darts of pleasure shot through his body straight to his cock which was already beginning to tent his hakama pants. "My, little bunny, what sharp teeth you have."
"All the better to eat you with, my pet."
Gods… Was it happening? After weeks of wishing and needing, were you finally succumbing to desire? He was practically giddy with the idea, his heart pounding like a drum as you kissed the bite on his neck.
"Mistress?"
"Hm?"
"Am I good?" His heart fluttered as he waited for your response. He knew the answer, he just adored hearing it from you. 
"Yes." Your teeth grazed his throat once more, making him throb with need. "You're so good."
"I'm a good boy for you?"
Your smirk tickled the skin of his neck. "You're my good boy."
“Oh…” 
You raised your head at the sound of his pleasure, your eyes scrutinizing his face, your worry returning to your face. And then he smelled it; a flood of desire coursing through you. You were turned on, and of course you were overthinking it.
“Don’t stop,” he begged. “Please. Please, mistress.”
Drawing in a slow breath your face was a picture of concern. “Douma… I don’t want to take advantage of you. I swore to you I would never be like those other owners.”
“You’re not, dove. You never have been.” Gods, his heart beat only for you, sweet anxious thing. But he needed to reassure you. This is what he wanted. You. This. Always. "You have always given me agency and… and choices. And with my agency, I'm choosing to do this."
It was hardly an effort at all to maneuver you on top of him, your thighs straddling his hips as the fabric of your dress rode up deliciously. He put the loop of his leash in your hand and lay back to admire you; a queen on her throne.
Exactly where you were meant to be. 
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“Shall I beg, mistress?” he said, gazing up at you. “Do you want me to beg you to own me completely?”
It was wrong. So wrong. And yet… your resolve was slipping. The hard press of his cock against your backside was unmistakable. As was your urge to ride it. 
“You know, you never asked me what Enmu and I discussed the first time we talked.”
He was right. You hadn’t even thought to ask what the two demons had discussed as they sat atop the old abandoned train. 
Every breath drawn took a monumental effort as he gazed up at you, so beautiful it made your body ache. “Of course. I didn’t want to intrude.”
Douma’s smile radiated adoration as he curled the leash around his fingers. “We discussed you and the life of a pet. Enmu told me ways I could escape you, that I could possibly pass as human given that I have no horns or facial markings. Just a hat to cover my hair would suffice. And I could escape.”
A sickly feeling gathered in your stomach. 
“He was right. But I didn’t want to. I never have. I want to be with you. Always. Every day. For all my days. I want to be with you and… I want you to be my mate.”
You swallowed hard. “Humans and demons can’t mate.”
“So they say,” he said, his eyes taking on a mischievous and hopeful glint. “We could prove them wrong?”
Your mind whirred. “We could never have babies, our bodies aren’t compatible like that.”
“And does that feel like something you’d be deprived of?”
You thought about it for a moment and shook your head. “No.”
He took your hand in his, pulling you forward ever so slightly to place it on the supple mound of his chest. Your face was just inches from his as his rainbow-hued eyes stared at you with hope and desire. The warmth of his breath fanning over your lips, the comforting scent of him, the hard press of his firm body between your thighs.
"Make me yours," he whispered. "Please."
"Douma, I don't think–"
"Hush hush, mistress. Don't think, feel." He raised his head an inch, so all that remained between your lips were shivering breaths. When you still made no move to close the gap, Douma pressed on, nudging his nose against yours, a barely audible “please” escaping him.
Your body was alight with desire, the tension between you the most delicious torture you had ever known. And when you caved, when your lips finally ghosted over his like gossamer floating on a breeze, he let out the softest, most helpless whimper that made your toes curl. 
Douma’s lips were warm and plush, and so very eager to please you. His kisses were an act of worship, pulling back after each one to check your expression, to ensure he was doing well for you. And he was. Every kiss deepened your desire and sent tingles straight to your core.
Winding the leash around your hand, you let your desire grow, kisses deepening, your tongue teasing his and exploring the sharp points of his fangs as he moaned beneath you. Your hands tugged at the tight fabric of his shirt, pulling it out from beneath his waistband to expose his abdomen. The heat radiating from his body was dizzying, the sensation of his muscles twitching beneath you addictive. 
The confines of your party dress became unbearable. You wanted to feel the warmth of his body against yours. You broke away from the kiss to sit upright, much to Douma’s distress. 
“Mistress please,” he begged, “I don’t want it to end.”
“Will you help me with my zipper?” you asked. 
The demon’s face was a picture of relief as he sat upright with you, reaching sound your back to carefully slide down the zipper. When you tugged the dress up over your head and removed your bra, he released a shaking breath, his smile growing.
“What a beautiful mistress I have,” he said reverently. “May I take my clothes off too?”
“Yes but… leave the harness.” 
He did exactly as you wished, unclipping the harness first to allow him to remove his shirt, then putting the leather straps back in place. 
And gods, the sight of him then; so full and soft, his nipples already puckered and flushed a rosy shade from a combination of his heat and your kisses. His chest had always enticed you, but now you were given free rein to satiate your hunger and desire. And it filled you with pride to know that it was your love and care that had helped make him so strong and beautiful. 
He lifted his hips to slide off his hakama pants, taking his underwear off with them and freeing his cock. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, given that he was tall and well-built everywhere else, but the size of it certainly gave you pause. It curved up toward his belly, a darker shade than the rest of him, so engorged with desire he was already leaking clear beads of pre-cum.
He was beautiful. And he was yours. 
“Lie back,” you told him. “If I do anything that makes you uncomfortable please tell me.”
“I will. But I won’t need to. I’m yours, mistress.”
“Yes, you are, aren’t you,” you said, straddling his hips once more and taking hold of his leash. “My beautiful pet. My good boy…”
He released a longing sigh at those words. All he wanted was to be adored by you, to be praised. 
“Put your hands behind your head for me,” you instructed.
He did as you asked, his strong biceps framing his pretty face so perfectly as you leaned forward and licked the swollen bud of his nipple, earning you a moan from him. And gods, the way the leather harness squeezed the plush muscle and fat of his chest. Douma was exquisite, beautiful beyond measure, and so responsive to your touch. 
“Does that feel good?” you asked. 
“Yes,” he sucked in a heavy, stuttering breath. “I think… my heat is making them extra sensitive.”
Your lips curled. “Is that so?” 
He groaned loudly as you began to lap at his nipples, teasing them with the tip of your tongue and watching him squirm, his breaths turning to pants as his hips thrust involuntarily beneath you. There wasn’t an inch of him you didn’t want to pleasure, to adore. 
And there wasn’t an inch of you he didn’t worship; you could see that in his eyes, and from the way he softly whined “Ohh mistress, my mistress, thank you, thank you,” as you sucked and squeezed his tits. 
Your inhibitions forgotten, you sucked a dark hickey beneath his left nipple, pussy throbbing as he gasped squirmed beneath you.
“Bite…” he begged. “Bite me. Please.”
Your panties were soaked as you fulfilled his wishes, sinking your teeth into the soft flesh, relishing his wanton moans of pleasure and his pleas for more. 
“Harder. Harder. Mark me. Make me yours.”
So you bit him, you marked him. Licking, sucking, biting, teasing. His chest was flushed and covered in hickies and the indents of your teeth, his cock leaking rivers of precum as his gasps broke with hiccups of delirious laughter.
His nipples were puffy and glistening with your saliva, his areola puckered and swollen from your ministrations.
“I’m yours,” he whispered. “Oh I need… Gods I need… to be… inside.”
“You want me to fuck you?” you asked, soothing his bites with gentle feathery kisses.
“Desperately.”
You needed him too. You ached for him, needing nothing more than to ride his cock, to reward him for being your good pet. 
Standing from the bed, you eased down your panties, your heart dropping at the sight of blood. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“Hm?” Douma lifted his head, his pupils dilating at the sight, just as they had the first time he smelled fresh, bloody liver. “Oh… mistress…”
“I’m sorry,” you grumbled, pulling up your underwear. “I knew it was due, but talk about bad timing.”
Elegant fingers and sharp lavender talons wrapped around your wrist, halting your movement. “Mistress…” He laughed softly. “Don’t stop on my account.”
You stared at him and he stared back.
“You want…?”
“I want,” he said. “Very much.”
He sat up and climbed off the bed, dropping to his knees before you and easing down your underwear. Gods, his eyes were flooded with hunger, his pupils blown out and abyssal black as he leaned closer, inhaling your scent; arousal and blood.
Some small part of you protested, but the thought that what you were about to do was dirty and forbidden was quickly drowned out by the roar of your arousal. He wanted it, and you wanted it too. 
“Mistress, you are divine. Sacred. Allow me to worship you as you were born to be worshiped.”
You placed your hand on the red mark on his crown, carding your fingers through his hair and tilting your hips toward him. “Do it.”
A shiver ran through your body at the tickle of his tongue lapping at your inner thighs. He groaned contentedly, the same way he did when you fed him, only this time the sound was even more primal. Your sweet, adoring demon feasted on you, that deep, rumbling purr sounding in his chest as he lapped at your essence. And he looked so pretty, feeding from you; his face a picture of serenity, eyes closed in bliss. 
The slippery heat of his tongue sliding through your pussy lips almost made your legs buckle. You leaned forward, bracing your arms and one knee on the edge of the bed so he had to bend backward, his hands coming up to grip your hips, claws pricking your flesh as he devoured your cunt. 
His hungry tongue licked your clit, driving you higher and higher toward ecstasy as you ground your pussy against his mouth, spurred on by his moans. You were no longer human and he a demon, you were both simply animals chasing pleasure, primal desire overtaking inhibition and drowning out reason. All that mattered was he was yours and you were his. 
The obscene slick, wet sounds of his mouth on your pussy filled the room, accompanied by your broken cries as you threw your head back in bliss, arms trembling as he sucked your clit, the tip of his tongue lapping voraciously until you fell apart, your orgasm shaking you to your core as your hips involuntarily pistoned against his face, riding him through your climax. 
“Mmmhh…” Douma’s muffled cry vibrated against you as his body trembled in response to yours, his claws drawing pinpricks of blood on your hips. 
And when you finally came down to earth, you drew back to look at him, any traces of worry dissipating at the sight of his blissful expression, lips glossy with your slick essence and reddened by your blood.
“Thank you, mistress,” he whispered, his tongue tracing the plump cushion of his lips. “That was perfect.”
His cock was still hard but glazed with cum. It dribbled down his length and his muscular abdomen in almost iridescent rivers. 
“You came?” you asked, as if it wasn't obvious.
He nodded and laughed, his face a picture of bliss. “This is the best night of my life.”
You dropped down to straddle him once more, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him tight. “I love you,” you whispered, overcome with affection for him. His still-hard cock twitched against your pussy. 
“Do you want more?” you asked.
“I never want to stop. I want this forever.” 
“So do I,” you said. And you meant it.
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It took so little for him to sink inside you, your tight, wet heat sending shivers through his spine as you claimed him. Your bodies fit together so perfectly, no space even for air to flow between you. Just skin-to-skin, heart-to-heart, your lips on his, your hand around his leash.
Gods, you were beautiful; his mistress, his owner, his mate.
“You marked me… so beautifully,” he gasped as you started to ride his cock, your eyes squeezing shut as you grew accustomed to his size. 
He would bear those marks proudly for the rest of his life. His soul was bound to you, and he would live every day at your side, not in your shadow, but in your glow. 
How he loved you. His mistress who had always cared so deeply for him, who treated him as a man when the world insisted he was a monster, who would stand and fight to protect him. He was yours, your pet, your lover, your Douma. Yours forever. 
And gods, you had the most divine little pussy he had ever felt. 
So hot and wet, made even more so by your blood and his saliva. All his other owners had made him fuck them, wanting it hard and fast, begging him to use his strength and size to dominate them. But not you. No, you claimed him so gently he simply slipped into submission, safe and comforted by your dominion. 
You would protect him and care for him forever, he knew that with certainty.
“My mate,” he whimpered, burying his face in the junction between your neck and your shoulder.
Your pussy squeezed his cock at the sound of that and it filled him with joy to know that it pleased you. The feeling was so wonderful it brought tears to his eyes. 
He was no longer an empty void unable to feel. No, you had coaxed everything out of him, you had filled him up. And he was safe, so safe to exude it all. 
“I love you,” he whispered as you rocked atop him, milking his cock of his seed. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
“I love you too,” you replied, bowing your head to bite his neck and tugging on the straps of his harness, sending him over the edge once more. 
His cum filled you and your walls pulsed to the same rhythm, both of you reaching your peaks in sync, your bodies and souls so deeply connected it brought him to tears and laughter.
And of course you worried. He didn’t mean to scare you but it did. You held his face so gently between your hands and looked at him with concern. “Douma? What’s wrong?”
“Not a thing, little dove,” he sighed, gently tugging the leash between you. “Not a thing. In fact, for the first time in my life, I can confidently say that I feel happy. I feel… so very full.”
A little later, when his limbs had stopped trembling and he could lift you onto the bed to lay beside him, he watched you fall asleep, completely fucked out and satisfied. He curled up against you, smiling as you wrapped your arms around him unconsciously. 
His lovely little mate. His life. His heart. His soul.
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Epilogue- Six Months Later. 
It was a pretty night, the park lit with fairy lights and filled with the sounds of chattering demons and their owners. You coiled Douma’s leash around your hand, but he wasn’t on the other end of it. 
His confidence had grown a little, and though behind closed doors you were very much joined at the hip– among other body parts– he’d begun socializing with other demons more often. And he felt so much; after so long believing himself to be an empty shell, he was practically overflowing.
“He’s doing very well,” Kie Kamado said as the pair of you watched Douma and Muzan’s stilted interactions. “Unless you know, you would never have thought he came from a kill shelter. He’s a picture of health and happiness.”
“Thank you,” you said, your heart filled with pride.
No one knew you were his mate. No one could know. Even as you stood there, all polite smiles and small talk, your pussy was filled with his seed, and his body was littered with your marks. The secrecy of it all thrilled both of you. In fact, you had no doubts that the moment you stepped through the door he would want to engage in the biting game until biting turned to kissing and then to fucking. It always did.
“Oh no,” Kie sighed, pulling you from your thoughts. 
Immediately your eyes were drawn to Douma, who was laughing as Muzan snarled at him. “Well… they lasted eight minutes,” you sighed, already making your way toward the arguing demons. 
“Definitely an improvement,” Kie said, stepping in to distract Muzan.
Wrapping your arms around Douma’s waist, you pulled him back with you. “Come on, no fighting today.”
He laughed as you dragged him away. “Ah-ha! Mistress, there you are. You came to my rescue?”
“Always.” You chuckled, releasing him from your hold. 
He smiled and clipped your leash onto his harness. He always did whenever something had rattled him, even just a little. You were such a comfort to him. 
Together, you made your way behind a little utility shed, your lips crashing together the moment you found seclusion, your hunger for each other never ending.
“Take me home?” he whispered. “I need you.”
“I need you too. But we have to stay just a little longer. We only got here ten minutes ago.”
He pouted, “I suppose. But all of these demons are so cold to me. Especially Muzan. And the little butterfly demon.”
You reached up and brushed his golden hair out of his eyes. “Just a little longer, love. I’ll buy you boba on our way home.”
With a heavy sigh he relented. “Okay. But I get to feast on you when we get back.”
Your cheeks grew warm. He always knew when you were menstruating, and he was always insatiable during those days. “Deal.”
“Deal,” he grinned, pouncing on you and burying his face against your neck. “My little jelly donut.”
“You did not!” You squealed in playful horror, trying to keep it down as he nibbled your neck. “Douma! That’s terrible.”
He laughed, squeezing you tight. “Fine, fine. My mistress. My beloved. My mate.”
“Better.”
“And what am I to you? Say it,” he said, needy as ever.
“My good boy,” you whispered, making goosebumps prickle along his arms. “My good pet.”
He ran kisses along the column of your neck, his teeth grazing your flesh and making you shiver. And despite your best intentions, it would be a while before you came out from behind the utility shed and rejoined the meeting. It always was. 
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A/N: Thank you so so so so much for reading Bad Pet! I loved writing it and I hope you had fun reading it! If you enjoyed it, please consider reblogging. It helps us writers share our stories!
Taglist: @anxious-chick @lifesucksweswallow @ghostlyworld @223princess
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mysicklove · 10 months
Note
Fucking werewolf Katsuki BUT BUT BUT-
He’s wearing a muzzle 🤭🤭🤭
Warnings: Muzzling obvi, riding, biting previously referred to
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he hates it. it’s so degrading, humiliating to his kind. if his past self saw him in the position he was in now, he would flip his shit.
but for now, he stares, more like glares at you from below you. his hands are tied behind his back so he doesn’t tear it off, and you are riding his lap.
he’s moaning under his breath, and refusing to look at you, embarrassed about the whole situation
you tap on the metal muzzle and his ears pin back. his eyes flicker to your face and he tries to look angry, but the way your moving on his cock is making him shiver. “Kats, don’t be embarrassed,” you coo, pressing a kiss to his forehead
his face heats up and you can hear the thumping sound of his tail his tail hitting the bed. “i-it’s humiliating,” he whispers, gripping the pillow behind when you begin to instead grind on him.
his eyes linger at your hips, wishing he could grab onto them to support your movements. make you move faster.
“aw, but puppy, you know you have a biting problem,” you tease, tracing the abundance of bite marks littered upon your skin. he claims it helps ward other wolves off, something to do with your scent being covered. you know it was all an act, he was a possessive bastard
“p-please?” he murmurs, eyes slightly rolling back, when you bring your hands to the both of his ears. “won’t bite. won’t bite. i won’t. please!”
it was a lie and the both of you know it. you’ve been in this position before, and every time you agree to his plea, his canines are always digging into your skin not even minutes later.
you continue your administrations on his ears, using it as leverage to help you bounce. “but puppy, you look so pretty in it. want you to cum without biting me”
he heaves, head falling forward and onto your chest. the thought makes him him whine. it always did feel better with his teeth in you. marked up for him; his, his, his.
but you were fucking him senseless, so even if the muzzle was humiliating and frustrating, he wasn’t about to complain. too much at least. “fuck. fine.”
“such a good puppy!”
his tail begins its wagging again and he already is planning where to bite when you take the ridiculous thing off
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Soft Yandere Deuce who is still very much a clumsy dumbass and gets caught by you...and you're into it.
The sudden loud thump from your closet after leaving the bathroom gave you a big startle and almost made you drop your towel.
When you open it a flushed and disheveled Duece is flat on his ass, having seemingly tripped, his pants and baby chick print boxers pushed down past his knees.
He's wide-eyed and scared once he sees you. Trying to cover his hard-on with one hand while attempting to pull up his pants with the other, he ends up crying.
Blubbering and begging, telling you how he is so so sorry and to please not hate him, he just likes you so much-
He's so upset and doesn't notice the smile on your face but shuts his mouth once you let go of your towel letting it drop to the floor.
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onyx-syn · 6 months
Text
Cockwarming Headcanons with LA! Buggy and LA! Shanks
Warnings: Smut, some fluff, Female Reader, Flirting, Cockwarming, Some praises, pet names and Unprotected Sex
*Don't steal my writings and claim it as your own*
*18+ Only*
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Buggy
🌹Buggy the clown is many things, one such thing is he is a sucker for you. A sucker for your love and touch, always wanting to be the center of attention around you
🌹And boy is he obsessed with the idea of his cock inside of you. Idea? Well, for a while he held back the thought of doing such a thing with you until the time finally came around to it
🌹See, for a while Buggy wasn't exactly comfortable with the physical touch. Not that he didn't want to touch you or be touched, it was more or less his insecurities taking over him
🌹But once he gets comfortable and used to you, oh he is melting for you and your touch at every giving moment
🌹He loves cockwarming you. I feel as he's able to detach his limbs he would be a little naturally cold? Or get easily cold? So, naturally, he nuzzles up to you when you two have time alone or wants you to nuzzle up to him. He loves feeling the heat emitting from your skin against his cold body, and even more so when he Buries his cock deep inside of you
🌹Where he likes to do it at is the fun part. He's both a private and public man. Sometimes he likes to do it in the comforts of your own room, deep in the night as deep as he's in you, only he can hear your sweet little moans of his cock burying deep inside you before you both end up sleeping
🌹Or, be a little sneaky and have you seated in his lap, rolling your hips around in circles, his hands gripping onto your hips keeping you steady, so you don't make the mistake of altering the members at the meeting of your sinful doing (which at that point, some of them have already figured you two were doing something)
🌹He'll leave his cock with you when you're in the mood or when he's gonna be gone for a while. He most definitely has phantom feelings so he can feel your walls greet him from afar. How hot your cunt feels, feeling his cock warm up and become wetter due to you. He's actively melting and mewling for you
🌹The feeling of your walls clenching him is out of this world, however it is difficult for him to restrain himself when he wants to buck his hips hard against your ass and cunt, hearing the sweet slapping sound of skin on skin. His body shutters at even just the thought of your walls around him
🌹His cock is the perfect size, a nice 5-6 inches. It grows half an inch when erected, which may not seem much but ol boy does he show it off. A pretty nice girth he's got going on down there, a nice handle around his length when you stroke him. He has a visible vein on the underline of his cock, which his length curves just a little. His tip starts off as a nice light pink before going to a nice red
🌹His cock is very sensitive with the vein and the underside of his tip. His body shutters when he feels the underline of his cock graze against your squishy walls, moaning as he feels the hotness grace it
- "Fuck", Buggy whispers to himself, a sweat tear drip dripping down the side of his cheek.
A loud moan left his wet lips, which he regretted a little after. He wants to ruin you, but he understands that during that time at night it wouldn't be right with how tired you both are.
The room felt unbearably hot. He could feel his cold skin turn into a molten pot of lava. His length deep inside you, the curls of his happy trail touching your ass and backside. Your naked body glowing in the darkness of the room, lit up by the moonlight shimmering through the windows.
A ravenous shockwave of pleasure rushing through his body as he could feel his body undergo an immense amount of pleasure. From his cock being smothered by your sweet folds and wet cunt, and the way your body so gracefully looked in bed and in his arms.
Your wet walls greeted him so nicely that he couldn't move, the only movement he wanted to give was bucking his hips into you, slow at first before speeding up. Wanting to hear your beautiful voice moan out his name, like the good girl you were to him.
His hands grazed your sides, grasping at your hips, a bit harsh, trying to keep himself composed.
His eyes fluttered to stay open, the pleasure overtaking him as he could feel his body overcome with the sensational feeling. Your body and cunt was like an intoxicating drug to him.
One of the most powerful pirates in The East Blue Sea, naked and trembling in bed with his love, his cock deep inside you wanting to fuck you senselessly. He was under your spell, like a loyal servant for your love and touch.
He brought himself out of his throughts as he hissed, feeling how nicely your walls clenched down on his cock, coating it in your slickness. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, his lips kissing your skin with his nose bumping your shoulder.
He took in your scent, trying to calm himself down. He whimpered a little, bitting onto your skin trying to control his ravenous urges. His body was overheating at your cunt, it felt so good, felt incredible. He wanted- no- needed to fuck you.
His body jolts a bit once he feels your hand move just slightly over his, rubbing your thumbs in circles around his rough yet soft skin. A small giggle leaves your lips before moaning, the tip of his cock hitting your walls, making your thighs tremble from the action.
Buggy shutters when he feels the underline of his cock graze your walls, huffing in your ear as hips start to buck little by little. He's melting in your pussy at this given moment.
You spoke in a slumber tone, barely awake, "Is my good boy that needy?"
You could feel Buggy tighten his grip on your hips, nodding profusely. "Yes... You feel so good baby, so... Nice~" You hear him say. You can tell he wants to do much more than just sleep.
You smile at his words, leaning back just enough into him where you're able to turn your head and kiss his cheeks gently. "That's my good boy, you're doing- ugh- really, good~"
He nuzzles deeper into your neck, pressing more kisses and lightly biting at your skin. "Mmm~" he mummers under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.
"I want you so ... So bad... Fuck, oh fuck. Your- fuck, please, please let me... I want... I want to fuck you... Baby...~" Buggy couldn't handle it anymore, he needed you just as much as you needed him.
You could feel your cunt become wetter at his begging, feeling his words breeze against your neck, sending a hot wave through your body and skin. The moment was intense, and starting to feel hot on both ends.
You shakily grip his hand, bringing it down to your pussy, the cold contact of his hand touching your clit so gracefully was making you moan in absolute pleasure.
"Then- nnn- n-do it, f-fuck me baby~"
He loved it when you spoke to him like this, wanting all your attention on him and him only.
🌹he won't always be this sweet and a good boy to you though, some days he'll be desperately moaning in your ear and telling you how well you're taking him as he deepens himself in you
🌹He does try very hard to be your good boy though. He holds back his urges a lot when it comes to him warming his cock deep in you, whimpering quietly and trembling as he holds you against him. With how your walls clench down in his harden muscle, warming him up like a cookie or wetting him- it's too much for him to handle all at once
🌹 He'll end up begging to fuck you, wanting to pleasure you and make you cum for him and hear you moan his name and his love
🌹Overall, will live and die doing cockwarming with his sweets~
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Shanks
🌹Shanks is an adventurous lad. Always off exploring new things and trying out all sorts of activities and tricks. One such new trick he didn't expect to end up liking is cockwarming with you. And now he's an an absolute sucker for cockwarming
🌹Unlike Buggy at first, he loves physical touch and little acts of service to give you or for you to give him. Well, at least before he lost his arm. But even then, it doesn't bother him too much, he still is hesitant on letting you touch his nub at first, so it would take some time for him to get used to
🌹Shanks is also in his prime, he's much more of a laid back type of cockwarmer then always actively trying to find a way to put his length deep into your cunt
🌹He loves to be relaxing either in his captain quarters or just being comfortable in his hammock with you either on top of his, his cock deep inside you as you're doing a chore or simply sleeping ontop of him
🌹Or when he catches you from behind when you're alone, cooking or cleaning. He'll come up from behind slowly, his rough hands gripping your sides softly, whispering in your ear of how beautiful you look right now. His hands roam further down your body and pull down your bottoms, sliding his cock between your folds. He groans when entering each time, still unbelievably stunned at how amazing your cunt feels
🌹But, he'll keep composure for a bit, helping you with the task in hand while bucking his hips little by little, trying to restrain himself but it can be difficult. A lot of the time it'll end up having sex with him on the counter or crate
🌹He almost has no words to describe how the feeling of your walls clenching down on his cock feels. Feeling your warm slickness coat him, every square inch of his large muscle as he rolls his tip around against your walls, bringing your body to shutter in his grasp
🌹he's much more of a private guy then a public guy when it comes to this, not because he doesn't want to do it, show you off, and be risky with you doll. But he doesn't want the other members of his crew or simply strangers, hear your beautiful voice moan his name or see your glorious reaction to his cock entering you. That's for him and you to enjoy
🌹He's length is pretty girthy, more of a shower then a grower to be honest. He's packing a nice 6.5 inches, but the girth is a key word. Has a few visible veins and has an angry red top
🌹 Isn't very sensitive in some spots, however your tongue swirling around his tips over and over again sends a thrilling chill up his spine, a shock wave of pleasure washing over him as he feels your wet his cock
🌹Will try to buck his hips more and more when you cockwarm him, making his tip hit your walls and roll against them, sending a chilling wave of sensational pleasure throughout his body. If you catch him he'll give you a cheeky smile and embrace your lips with his
- You were preparing a meal in the kitchen of the ship, docked at the small island where you and Shanks crew laid low for now. Your ears perked at the footsteps entering into the room, noticing who the pattern belonged to.
A smile covered your cheeks as you felt a pair of rough hands wrap themselves around your fabric of clothing, rubbing your tummy softly before gripping onto your hips.
You felt a pair of lips kiss your ear, sending a small shockwave of euphoria down your spine. A large chest hitting your back as the person behind you spoke.
"Making dinner I see, my love?" Shanks spoke, his raspy voice chuckling.
You nodded in return, leaning back against his chest before kissing his cheek, smiling once more returning back to the task at hand.
"Of course, somebody's gotta feed you hungry dogs"
Shanks shook his head at that, but you can imagine the cheeky smile plastered across his face. You knew he had other intentions than to just help you with dinner, you could feel his rather large groin press against your ass.
His voice deepened, kissing your neck more slower and bitting here and there. "That's so nice my dear~"
You felt a rise of adrenaline rush through your veins, rolling your hips back into his hips. You stopped what you were doing and waited for Shanks to do his bidding upon you. You wanted to feel his cock burden itself in your cunt, feeling your folds become wet at the thought.
Shanks chest rumbled with a groan, his cock sliding through your wet folds as he pulled down the hem of your bottoms and your undergarments just enough to have access to your cunt.
"Dear- oh fuck...~" he whispered under his breath, cursing at the feeling.
The sensational feeling of your walls clenching down on his cock, coating him in your slickness. Shanks closed his eyes as a moan left his lips, feeling his tip touch your walls. He pressed his forehead against the back of your head.
His hands raced back to your hips, almost reaching your back and bending you over the counter to wreck your poor puffy cunt. But, he remained composed, despite the little bucking of his hips against your ass.
His red curly trail touching your backs and ass, tickling you just a bit. The feeling was intense for him, he was a strong man yes but this was something else for him.
Shanks started to buck more, having a nice handle on your hips. He turned his rhythm to the side a bit, shuttering at the feeling of his tip hitting your squishy wet walls, coating him over and over again as he continued.
Little moans left his lips. He squeezed his eyes closed, his lips pressing on your head, giving you small kisses. His cock swelled in your pussy, filling you up with his size just alone.
Your hands gripped the counter of the kitchen table, your thighs trembling. Feeling yourself full and your walls caressed from his cock alone, a low moan and mewl left your wet lips. It was times like this where you wished you weren't busy so your man could fuck you like no tomorrow.
Shanks could feel your body tremble in his touch, sending a chuckle out of him. "Feels good doesn't it my love?~" he asks, watching you nod. "You love it when I fill you up don't you~".
"Shanks~" You breathy let out a whimper, your nails digging into the granite counter.
Shanks leans forward, his hot breath making the hair on your neck stick up and sending a wave to your pussy. "Yes my love?~"
His words and voice made you feel so many things, all of which sinful and deeply inappropriate for such an open space. You shakily moved your hands, cutting the vegetables slowly as you tried to calm yourself down.
"I ... I-i want to try and finish, d-dinner... So i-if you don't plan on helping, we might as well stop or we'll end up r-ruining dinner" you mentioned to him, slowly gaining control of the situation.
"ruin it? Oh darling, dinner has barely started" He restated, chuckling a little. "especially when I'm looking at the dessert right in front of-"
"S-Shanks!" You cut him off, your face heating up from his comments and words about your intimate moment.
You feel him stop bucking his hips, his hands lessening it's grip on your hips before reaching the counter, holding up some vegetables and a knife. "Alright alright, I'll help you, but the real dinner for us will begin after this~" he whispered in your ear, now letting his cock settling itself in you, warming up for laters activities.
Dear god, good luck for you.
🌹It's moments like this between you two that he loves, both having fun while being romantic, his love for you never going away no matter what
🌹 he'll lazily rock his hips into yours occasionally, letting a cheeky smile cover his face trying to get away with the actions of his teasing on you. It brings excitement to the man and his adoration for you
🌹He's a sucker for cockwarming, no doubt
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vampcubus · 7 months
Text
:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟑 : 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐀 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
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:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!yandere!zenitsu agatsuma, mean dom!fem!reader, modern au, spit kink/spitting, finger sucking, light master kink, light oral fixation, spit as lube, dacryphilia, overstimulation, degradation, sadism/masochism, pet name (lamb), fingering (m!receiving), cumming in pants/untouched, referenced stalking, zentisu is aged up to twenty-one in this.
:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 2.2k+
𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 : 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓
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Zenitsu kneels at your feet, arms hugging your legs as his wide, brown eyes bore into you through dewy, blond lashes. His gaze is reverent and desperate as if he can’t tear himself away from you. The sight is reminiscent of how a golden retriever would look at its owner, equal parts pathetic and adoring.
‘Pay attention to me,’ his eyes say, ‘Love me,’ they beg, ‘Take pity on me,’ they plead with your own.
These are the eyes of the same man you’d just discovered snooping around your home. There’s something familiar about him as if you’d seen him before.
No, you’d definitely seen him before. All those times you’d felt watched, followed, or hunted. 
His hair is the same canary-yellow you’d see retreating in your peripheral when you’d look over your shoulder. Your heart sank into your stomach at the realization that you hadn’t been paranoid after all. Someone really had been out to get you all along and now they’re here, clinging to your legs like a child.
You lower a hand to stroke your fingers through his golden hair in a placating manner, and the simple gesture of affection seems to flip a switch in him. His breathing quickens and he buries his face into your stomach, hugging you tight enough to hurt as he begins to sob. His band-aid-riddled fingers bunch in your shirt as if he’s afraid you'll slip through them if he doesn’t cling.
“You’re touching me… you’re really…” The blond murmurs, his words muffled against your tummy. He shivers and trembles like the sensation is overwhelming, but he shoves his head into your hand anyway, chasing the affectionate caress. “Keep doing it. Keep… petting me, please…”
"I-I'm not dangerous, I swear,” he whimpers with a sniffle and looks up at you, hoping that his doe-eyed gaze would be enough to get you to relent. "I just... I burn for you. Please, just let me stay! I'll do anything! Anything!”
Your fingers tighten in his hair, forcing his head back none-too-gently.
“Ah!” Zenitsu recoils in a mix of surprise and pleasure, not expecting you to manhandle him so firmly. He lets his head be forced back, his eyes still puppy-like, but a faint blush has spread across his cheeks. 
He looks dazed, drunk off of your mere proximity. He hardly cares if your touch is rough, just that you’re touching him at all. 
You lips curl into a sadistic smirk at this realization.
“Kind of pathetic aren’t you, lamb? If I didn’t find it mildly amusing I might have turned you in to the authorities,” you taunted, entertained by the way his bottom lip trembled. Zenitsu looks up, his face splotchy from tears as he sniffles wetly, his heart pounding with nervous anticipation.
"Lamb?" He croaks, looking up at you through his dewy lashes at the pet name, allowing himself to hope. “Does that mean you'll be my shepherd? My master?"
“Of course you’d focus on that part,” you tsk, though you can’t say you’re displeased at the tears dotting his lash line. Sick in the head or not, he was a pretty crier, and you’d be lying if that didn’t turn you on. “That’s all you’re thinking about; being a dumb, mindless slut for me aren’t you?”
Zenitsu moans aloud at that, cock twitching in his pants. But he frantically shakes his head ‘no’, trying to insist it wasn’t true, cheeks aflame with humiliation. 
“Don’t say that! I-I’m not p-pathetic. I’m just–” he warbles, only to cry out as your foot presses against the prominent bulge tenting his pants, calling his bluff in a simple movement. 
“What’s this then?” Your self-satisfied sneer and vibrant eyes glimmering down at him make his mind go blank. 
“Th-that’s- haaa~ mmh!” His voice trails off into a mewl, and he can’t stop himself from humping himself against the arch of your sock-clad foot. “I’m sorry, you’re just so beautiful. It gets like this whenever you’re around. I’m sorry!”
Your eyes darken with lust at his pathetic display, tongue dipping out to drag across your lip as he wraps both arms around your leg and bucks his hips. Heat pools between your legs, and you clench around nothing.
“Aren’t you embarrassed? Look at how hard you are, and all I’ve done is degrade you. You truly are pathetic,” you laughed, fingers tightening in his hair.
“Ssstop, I’m gonna cum,” he sniffles, teary, amber-colored eyes rolling back and tongue flopping out as his dick gets even harder. “Y-you’re gonna make me cum.”
Zenitsu squeezes his eyes shut and sobs when you take your foot away, humping the air uselessly, chasing friction that’s no longer there. His eyes flutter open at the feeling of your thumb tracing the seam of his lips, and he hums curiously.
“Open,” you instruct, and with minimal hesitation, his lips part. He shudders when your thumb dips into his mouth, stroking over his teeth and tongue. You explore his wet cavern with little regard for his comfort, trading your thumb for your index and middle fingers and purring in delight when he begins to suck without coaxing. 
“Good boy,” you crooned, and your cunt throbs at the hopeful, puppy-like look he sends you at the praise. 
He suckles at your digits more enthusiastically, gagging cutely when you press them deeper. Despite the tears stinging at his eyes, he lets you fuck his mouth open with your fingers, swirling his pretty pink tongue around them with even pinker cheeks. Desperation seeps into his expression, and you raise a brow, retracting your fingers to let him speak.
“Please kiss me,” he begs, drooling dribbling down his chin from practically blowing your digits. “P-please I’ve imagined your lips on mine so often… Dreamt of how you might taste.”
You hum, tapping your chin as if considering his request. You drag him by the hair up to your level, and he gasps at the sting, though he looks so damned excited when you lean in. 
“Open your mouth,” you nearly growl, and if Zenitsu had a tail he’s sure it’d be wagging. He obeys eagerly, parting his lips in anticipation of the hot caress of your lips over his own. 
His brows crease in confusion when your finger hooks into his mouth again, holding his jaw open, unsure of why you would need to–
Zenitsu’s body goes rigid when instead of kissing him, you spit directly into his mouth. His eyes cross as your saliva lands on his tongue, and with a startled shout, he cums in his pants completely untouched. The blond convulses and moans out, sounding unhinged as he paints the insides of his pants with white ropes and nearly collapses to the floor. He swallows your spit greedily, and his hands cling onto your waist, blunt nails digging into your hips. 
“A-again! Please, spit in my mouth again!” He cries, rubbing his overstimulated cock over your thigh despite the bright sting. “Fuck me, spit on me. I don’t care, just use me!”
You gnarl your fingers in his hair and tug him by it over to the bed, throwing his smaller form onto the mattress in a careless manner. He lands on his belly, with his lower half slightly raised, and the position brings your attention to his round ass. He attempts to pull himself up, only to be shoved back down, and then yanked to the edge of the bed until his legs are dangling off the side of it. 
“W-what’re you doing?” Zenitsu whines, nearly choking when instead of answering you yank his pants down his legs. His underwear follows shortly after and he gasps as the cold air hits his cum-slicked dick. But you ignore his throbbing half-hard sex, fully fixated on the cleft of his ass, which you’re quick to spread to get a better look at him. “A-ah! Are you-? Are you really going to fuck me?”
“That’s the idea, got any complaints?” Your hands rove over his thighs, hips, and backside, kneading the heated flesh in your hands. 
Zenitsu can hardly believe this is happening, that you’re truly rubbing him down right now. He had fisted his clock to the thought of this very moment for months on end, imagining every which way you’d take him. You’re not as tender as he’d hoped, but even your roughness is intoxicating. You’re throwing him around like a doll, doing with him as you please. He can’t help but lap up all the attention you’re giving him like a starved animal, even if you don’t love him, he’ll settle for this.
Even so, he’s eager to convince you to keep him.
“Please do! I-I’ll make it worth your while, promise! I’ll be the best toy you’ve ever— Ow!” His babbled reassurances are cut off by a harsh spank to his plump rear, and the deranged thing that’s decided you own him only wriggles his ass enticingly in response.
You even hear a choked giggle escape him and you mirror it despite yourself.
You lean in to trail kisses along the red handprint you’d left behind, and the boy erupts with shivers, his cock twitching back to full hardness whilst pinned between his tummy and the mattress. He cries out when you spit on his taint, his entire body jerking at the warm, wet sensation of it dripping down his hole. 
Your finger follows the wet trail, pressing down on his rim. He startles like a spooked rabbit, a clipped ‘Eep!’ tumbling out of his drooling lips.
“Has anyone ever touched you here?” You drawled in an amused tone, forced to admit you were quite taken with the shameless blond now.
He shakes his head rapidly but grinds his ass back onto your fingers enthusiastically, brown eyes nearly heart-shaped as strains to watch you touch him over his shoulder, “Just you, master.”
You press a slicked finger he’d drooled on earlier into him and he arches, mouth agape at the sensation of being filled. You fuck him open with one digit for a while, and then two, and the stretch makes him whimper, “Hurts.”
“Relax, lamb. It’ll feel better soon, it’ll feel really good. You trust your master, don’t you?” You comfort him in a soft tone, mesmerized by the ways he clenches around your digits.
He nods quickly, and even as he moans that it ‘hurts’ his inner walls keep trying to pull you in deeper. Yes, master knows what’s best for me.
He doesn’t quite say it aloud, but his body relays the message well enough.
Soon you’re fucking him open with three fingers, and the small thing can only writhe, moan, and drool against the sheets of your bed. Your scent is all around him, your fingers deep inside him, your voice guiding him along toward his orgasm like a lover would. He’s ascended to heaven surely, and you’re an angel picking him apart.
Your fingers brush over his prostate and he nearly wails, delirious tears streaming down his face, choked praises and gory promises to always protect you spilling out of him.
He’s close, so so close but he needs more from you.
“Y/nnn, my love. Please spit in my mouth again. Need all of y-yo-ou insiiide me!” Zenitsu begs, voice already hoarse from screaming his lungs out in pleasure. 
He’s sniffling and sobbing so hard it’s a wonder he can speak at all through the hiccups. 
Something about his pathetic cries resonates with you. Here this stunning man was, clearly ill for you, begging you to desecrate and disrespect him. Treating your spit like it’s a blessing. He deserved better than you, or maybe you were perfect for one another in your fucked-upness. 
You slide your fingers out and turn him over into his back. You crawl up his body, his hands grabbing at every part of you he can reach. Your clothed cunt presses against his flushed-red and leaking cock, and he keens at the feeling of your slick soaking through onto him. When your finger hooks into his mouth again, he’s quick to open it, anticipating your spit.
Instead, your lips find his own.
His limbs lock up, blunt nails digging into the flesh of your lips as he frantically humps against your pussy for a few more agonizing seconds. In the end and then he cums so hard it feels a little like dying. He lets out a strangled moan into your mouth, happy tears pouring out of him as sticky ropes spill out over his twitching abdomen. 
It feels so good he can do nothing but cry and cling, hoping to god he won’t wake up to find it’s all been a dream. But when he comes to, all he can see, smell, and hear is you. A tired, dumb grin spreads across his face.
“You kissed me,” he rasps stupidly.
“So I did,” you replied resolutely.
“I was wrong before, about you being my shepherd. I think you’re more like a hungry wolf,” Zenitsu sighs, eyelids drooping sleepily. He fights to keep his eyes open, to look at you a little longer. “You’ll eat me alive.”
“You seemed keen to let me gobble you up a moment ago,” you teased, grinding your cunt down on his oversensitive cock.
“Mercy on your lamb, please!” Zenitsu cries, squirming away from the friction this time. “Too much!”
“My lamb?” You ask with raised brows.
He looks a much too demure when he replies, “I was only ever yours. I don't care if you string me along. You can lie to me, pretend you love me. I'll be your stupid little helpless lamb, just never leave me."
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