OKAY BUT HEAR ME OUT ;

𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞.ᐟ p2

⋆｡ﾟYou, new to Hell and clueless about everything, pass them on the street and give them a polite smile and wave ﾟ｡⋆

— Husk, Striker, Sir Pentious, Blitzø

Husk frowned and eyed you suspiciously, bottle lowering from his lips. What were you smiling about, what was there to smile about? Shaking his head he kept walking, taking another drink and remembering to tell Angeldust later about the weird experience.

Striker smirked at you and tipped his hat in response. His interest was officially peaked when you just kept going, smiling at other people as you went. What a strange thing to do in Hell, especially in the wrath ring.

Sir Pentious noticed your kind jester and looked around before pointing at himself. When you stop and giggle before nodding, he smiles back and blushes. No one besides Charlie has smiled at him unprompted before, it was nice.

Blitzø stopped and just stared at you deadpan, trying to figure out if he knew you or not. Maybe you wanted to do business? But you walked away, confusing and pissing him off. What the fuck did you want and why were you making it his problem?

Finished Helluva Boss and look my way made me sob hahaha

I made two versions- mostly because I can and y'all can't tell me you wouldn't pick up this bipedal flatscreen just for kicks- he's feelin victorious as heck in one of the drawings and extremely flustered in the other. I decided to draw him shocked rather than pouting/grumpy cuz I think Vox would've totally underestimated that (Y/N) could pick him up until they do it- after the shock wears off though you can betcha he's just: "Okay, that's enough. You can fucking put me down now dollface." So don't put him down, carry his lanky flatscreen lookin ass everywhere because it's funny-

Thank you for listening to my TedTalk-

NSFW: Getting Railed By Kokushibo

Warnings - public sex ( sex in a forest ), rape / noncon, dom!kokushibo, mention of and licking of blood, choking, heat cycle, degradation.

Authors note - fem reader.

You forgot how many hours had gone by. The only thing you could hear out of your daze was the moans both of you were making.

When you got home to your lover today, he seemed odd… he was just avoiding you. Not making eye contact, greeting you, or acknowledging you. You originally thought you had done something wrong. The last thing you would’ve have guessed was that he was in a heat cycle, a VERY heated one.

As he speared it on his large cock. He ruts and thrusts against you like a wild animal. “Fuck… i told you… to leave me alone. Why the… fuck did you not listen… to me. Well, i guess… I’ll have to show you… how i- fuck- how i punish… naughty girls…” As he was continuing to push past your cervix and thrust his hefty cock into the top of your womb. Grabbing your throat roughly, he started to choke you and bite you until the sight of blood on your throat. When he seemed pleased with the marking, he stopped biting and licked up the blood. “ ha… i can feel you… getting wetter, slut! Do you really… like when im this… rough with you?” He questioned as he fucked you senseless all night long.

Sinful Alphabet

Saint Peter NSFW Alphabet

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Saint Peter x Reader

C/TW: NSFW (duh), Adam mentioned, Implied!Switch Peter, He’s mostly subbing, Dom reader, reader mostly written as fem in mind

MDNI

A/N: This is all written with the mindset that Peter is very new to sexual intimacy. I feel like as time went on, the answers would differ. Plus also I really like the idea of a virgin saint Peter so like-💀

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He’s usually in subspace for awhile after sex, so he probably wouldn’t do anything for the first several minutes. But he would love to hold your hand, stay close to you, and use his wings to wrap you both up snuggly together. Maybe ask if you’re hungry and want him to order anything for you.

B = Body Part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also you)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ His favourite part of his body would probably have to be his hands. He loves running them over your body, through your hair, holding and groping you, fingering you, ect,. His hands are soft, delicate and always cold, loves how your body reacts to his touches.

His favourite body part on you is would have to be your mouth/lips. From how they feel against his lips, skin, wrapped around his cock, ect,. Plus the sweet pleasurable noises you make when you guys do it, with his name falling from your lips, gets him all needy.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ If you have a sweet tooth, you’d love the taste of his cum. He loves cumming down your throat the most. Watching you with watery blue eyes as you drink his cum like it’s your favourite milk is enough to get him hard again.

D = Dirty Secret (What’s their dirty secret)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ During a particularly long shift at the golden/pearly gates of Heaven, his mind wondered off to fantasizing about you sitting underneath the podium, milking his cock with your mouth as he works. He got so hard but was so embarrassed and ashamed of it, he couldn’t face you, Sera, and anyone else for the next several days. May or may not have thought about that fantasy the next time you gave him head though.

E = Experience (How experienced are they?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ No experience. Not even in masturbation. You’re his first time ever. He’s been around for centuries and never did anything until you and him became a thing.

F = Favourite Position

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Saw @simphornies mention this and I 100% agree; Missionary and Cowgirl. He likes facing you and holding your hips, thighs, tits/chest, waist, ect,. His favourite is holding your hands though—he likes the intimacy and caring nature of it.

G = Goofy (Are they serious or goofy during sex?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Pretty serious. Maybe kind of goofy but in a dorky way? He wouldn’t crack a joke but he would maybe react kind of adorably and dork like since he’s so flustered. You pin him against a wall? “Ah—well—Uh..ha… hello there..” God he’s such a dork.

H = Hair (How well groomed down there are they?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Pretty well groomed. No bush, gets trimmed every now and then.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? Romantically speaking)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He loves being intimate. He definitely prefers making love over sex, any day! He loves whispering praises to you, whether or not he’s topping or bottoming, he will tell you he loves you and how perfect he thinks you are. A big fan of stolen kisses while you do it.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He feels kinda guilty doing it so he doesn’t do it often. Plus he prefers your hand, mouth, and body anyways so like—

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Praise kink (both giving and receiving). He has to let you know how perfect you are, how good you make him feel, and thank you for letting him touch and see your bare skin. When he receives praise though, he gets needy and kind of teary eyed, definitely sends him up to subspace quickly. Also gets really flustered and embarrassed. Oh you say he looks so pretty when he’s edged into oblivion? He’s definitely tearing up and whimpering.

He loves cock warming. He also hates it because come on! You’re being so unfair, sitting on his aching cock and not moving. Oh but he loves how closely intimate it is, how he gets to wrap his arms around you, holding you close, your hands entangling themselves into his hair, ect,. And when you do move? Oh my god he’s so relieved, he’s thanking you and moaning your name like it’s the only thing he knows how to say.

Overstimulation. He’s weak and is usually already a trembling mess just from a handjob, so he cums quickly. When you keep going though, sucking him dry, riding him, and milking him for several more rounds though? You could ask if he wants you to stop but he’s already babbling on incoherently about how he doesn’t want you to stop. Plus he likes how trembly he is when you’re done, cuz that usually means you take care of him and he has every excuse to cling to you as much as possible.

L = Location (Favourite place to do it)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Privacy of the bedroom. Your bedroom, his bedroom, shared room, hotel room, whatever. He just wants a big bed to lay on or to lay you on while you go at it like rabbits—with full privacy of course.

M = Motivation (What turns them on?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Honestly he’s kind of easy to turn on—especially when it comes to you. Whisper a few dirty words to him, pin him against a wall, tease him, bend over in front of him, ect,. It’s easier to just say ‘you’, honestly. You could go out for milkshakes and he’d completely innocently watch you lick the white substance from your lips and his mind goes places. Granted he feels dirty and embarrassed by it so please don’t tease him about it :c

N = No (What will they not do?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Anything where either of you get hurt-even just a lil bit—is off the table. Want him to spank you? No, no, sweetheart! Why would he do that? He just wants to worship you and love you.

Also anything where people could hear or see you. He hopes the bedroom walls are soundproof cause his jealousy side does not like the idea of anyone hearing your noises and seeing your body the way only he should get to see it. He once accidentally walked in on you changing and despite his very flustered state, he lightly scolded you for leaving the door unlocked. What if someone else walked in?! :c

O = Oral (Do they prefer giving or receiving? How skilled are they?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ As mentioned quite a few times already, he loves getting head from you. Your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock sucking, licking, and kissing—it drives him crazy. He’s not selfish though, he loves giving you head as well. Got a pussy he could eat out? He’s already sitting on the floor by the edge of the bed with your legs spread over his shoulders as he eats you out like you’re a delicious last meal.

He’s surprisingly good at it, despite having no experience before you came into his life. It mostly stems from him being kind of unsure of himself and just trying as much as he can so he can please you just as amazing as you please him. It works. Maybe a little too well though but that’s okay! He’ll spread your thighs apart and whisper sweet praises to you as he takes another lick of your sweet juices.

P = Pace (Fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He likes starting slow and getting faster. Slow because of the intimacy and being in the moment with you but as the night wears on, the more needy and desperate you both get and he just can’t get enough of you. He needs either you riding him until he can’t breathe anymore or his cock so balls deep in you that only his name is all you know.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies over proper sex)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He doesn’t…mind them. I mean, they still feel good and since it’s you, of course he’ll do it buuuuuut he prefers proper sex-er, love making. Honestly if you both don’t have enough time, oral is preferred. If you do get a quickie in though, please still hold his hand and make him feel loved when you’re done your little fun together. It’s the love and care that he craves.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, take risks, ect?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Not really. Public fun maybe, but that’s usually reserved for oral and even then, he wants/needs you guys to be somewhere at least 98% private. Want to suck him while spending the day at the beach? Yes, sweetheart, of course you can but please not here—let’s find someplace a lot more secluded, okay?

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go? How long do they last?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He cums quickly and gets hard from a few dirty words and naughty touches from you. In other words he’s sensitive as fuck but please don’t stop, he loves the overstimulation and those pretty noises you make. The most he’ll be able to go is about 4 rounds before it starts feeling so overwhelmingly good that it actually starts to hurt. If you can still go however, he’s more than happy to let you sit on his face. He’ll be so lost in subspace, the only thing on his mind would be you and the taste of your pretty pussy.

T = Toys (Do they have any toys?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Adam gifted him a fleshlight once, just to be a dick and tease him. You guys do use it though sometimes—mainly when you feel particularly cruel and want to tease him. Straddle him, using the fleshlight to jerk him off while he sits there trembling and begging for you to stop teasing him. It feels good but you just feel so much better.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Despite how subby I made him out to be, sometimes he’ll take charge. He’s definitely a switch, leaning more towards bottoming. When he’s topping though, he likes to tease you by eating you out over and over. It’s one of the few times he gets to hear you whine and whimper, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, as he drives you so, so close! One of the other reasons he teases you like this, is because he knows he doesn’t really last that long in bed compared to you. So getting you all needy, desperate, and wet for him is basically part of his plan to get you to cum good and all over him when he finally fucks his cock into you.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds do they make?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He’s pretty loud. He doesn’t scream but he isn’t like, a quiet fuck either. He whimpers, moans, and begs—doesn’t matter if he’s topping or bottoming. If you peg him-or you got a dick-though, he’s screaming in pleasure. Tries to be quiet, not that successful.

W = Wild Card (random nsfw headcanon)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ LOVES lazy morning sex. You’re both so sleepy, yet so needy, loving, and clinging to each other the entire time. It’s like you can’t keep your lips off of each other. When he’s topping, he loves hovering above you, holding your body close to him, exchanging many loving good morning kisses as he finds a nice steady rhythm to fuck his cock into you nice and deep.

When you’re topping he likes sitting up against the pillows and headboard as you lazily ride and grind against him. His hands he wouldn’t know what to do with as all he wants is to keep touching you and keep you close. Definitely always kissing each other though. He loves it when you eat each other’s moans like this ♥︎

X = X-Ray (What are they packing?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He’s pretty average at about 5 inches. Fully erect though he’s about 6 inches. His cock is decently thick. Like the rest of him, it’s paper white but the head has a golden hue. Surprisingly heavy balls—probably from the literal centuries they’ve gone having not been emptied.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Not high so he wouldn’t really initiate that often. If you initiated though, that’s another story. It just needs to be with you and plus only you can really get him going. If you have a high sex drive, don’t worry, you won’t be flying solo a lot. And when he gets into it, he gets into it. Could and will go hours upon hours because of you.

Z = ZZZ (How quick they fall asleep afterwards?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It takes a lot out of him, especially when he’s bottoming/subbing. So he can easily fall into slumber but he loves the aftercare so he stays up until your both settled. Then he’ll allow himself to drift off to sleep with you right next to him.

A/N: I’ve been wanting to make this for so long and then finally at like 1am I was like, you know what… I’ll do it. And now it’s 4am and my sleep schedules ruined—

Heh, worth it though

Also might’ve went a bit ham on the “Kink’s” portion I’m so sorry 💀💀

Hey hey, Can I make a request ?

How would (separate) kokushibo, akaza and doma react to their S/O giving them a gift ?

It's okay if you don't do the request and I also love your writing ! 👉👈

A/N; THIS IS SO CUTE AHHH???!!!

HCS: gn!reader, shy!reader(Doumas part), tsundere(ish) akaza, and blushy kokushibo!

Kokushibo-!!

how dare you?? how dare you make the *scary* uppermoon one get all giddy inside?? WHAT KIND OF SORCERY IS THIS??!!

the way your lips curled into a smile made his non existent heart melt!!

your just so perfect for him??

—his ears flinch hearing soft footsteps around the area he was resting in, holding his katana tight as if getting ready for bloodshed

"kokuuu??? where are youuu??!!" he hears your loud voice echoing throughout the forest as he sighs, standing up to find you

"(name)" he appears suddenly behind your back as you let out a loud screech, he had to put his hand over your mouth "sh." leaves his lips as you calmed down

"kokuuu!! I brought you something!!" giving him a small little box with an adorable tiny bow on top, he raises his brows in curiosity taking it on his hand examining it slightly

"open it! I saw it on a stall, and I hope you'll like it!!" lifting the lid as he was greeting with a moon charm that'd fit his katana nicely

"sooo?? do you like it??!!" hes speechless, as red reaches his cheecks, putting out his hand to pat your head

"i-its nice..thank y-you.."

Akazaaa-!!

you're so annoying!! leaving your scraps all over the forest? Psh--

he works so hard to find them all ;((

he won't tell you that tho!!

—As he was patrolling the area, he finds little carvings on the trees, examining it he grumbles in frustration,, that's your mark?? How'd you get there before him??

He walks annoyed arms crossed and a small little pout on his lips, as he..tripped and fell to the ground

looking at the item he tripped on he found a little box with a catclip on it, with a note-

'kazaa?? I already scouted here hehe >:) find all of the gifts I left you, and you might get something from me!!;))

ps.i hope you tripped on the gift

-(name)'

the sheds the paper in embarrassment, as he went to ignores the gifts he spotted.

he got all 36 of them with no damage.

Doma-??!!

He just thinks you're just so adorable! Trailing behind his feet, fidgeting with your fingers staring onto the floor

the little tint of red on your cheek makes him go ???

you're just so cuteee,,, and your shy personality just makes the cherry on top !!

—he orders around everybody (all except you) to do their job, make food, etc?? While all you have to do is follow his EVERY move

eating people? you're watching, sitting down with the curios eyes he just loves so much??!!

He could sense you have something to say, "ano!- lord doma!" your squeaky voice echos the empty room, "hm? what is it darling?"

you place the wrapped box neatly onto the floor, as you stared up seeing his red cheeks and curious eyes you get embarrassed

flinching as you bolted out of the room,, he chuckles at you before opening the box filled with stickers to decorate his fan

Aren't you just a little sweetie just for him?

the 5percent motivation I used to make this is crazyy ong

Hello everyone,I'm going to show you my oc murderdrone, his name is G or Ghar, he has a problem but I think it's better not to do it. and i still have other ocs

Can someone explain what they have to do with this 😭😭😭🙏🏼

Bitter Poison

(The sequel to Sweet Elixir)

Pairing: Sub!Muzan x Dom! Female Reader

Summary: Five years ago, the massacre at the Kibutsuji estate claimed your father and his noble patient Muzan. Left with the burden of being the town's only doctor, you find yourself burned out and apathetic, numb to your loss and calling. But when the young lord you believed to be dead reappears as a soulless monster and confesses his horrific crimes, you finally find catharsis in treating him roughly, and enter into a pact with Muzan which will bind your soul to his for eternity.

Content Guidance: NSFW. Dom!reader is rougher than I usually write. Oral and vaginal intercourse. Reader gives: slapping, biting, hitting, nipple play, rough handjob, ruined orgasm, overstimulation. Reader receives: Orgasmic bites, cunilingus, creampie, and Muzan turns reader into a demon by fingering her. Approx 6.5k words

The massacre at the Kibutsuji estate rocked the town and neighboring villages. Someone or something had torn through the mansion, killing everyone in sight. 

By all accounts it was a bloodbath.

Your father was among the dead. And his patient, Muzan Kibutsuji, the young, sick nobleman with whom you had once shared a couple of beautiful, passionate hours, was gone. Whatever beast took him hadn't even left a body to bury.

You felt the loss of both men; the one you had loved your entire life and the one you had adored only briefly. But grief had to wait as you were saddled with the crushing responsibility of being the town's only remaining doctor. 

Still, even as you found yourself swallowed by work, you couldn’t go a day without being reminded of your loss. 

Theories ran as rampant as the perpetrator. Some said a bear or a wolf was to blame for the massacre. The men of the town organized a hunt, but the forests were strangely devoid of all predatory animals. Others suggested that Lord Kibutsuji himself was the killer, but logic told you that was absurd. Muzan had barely been able to walk, let alone massacre an entire household.

Five years passed and the frantic rumors turned to whispers, then eventually to stories. Everyone knew someone who knew someone who had seen Muzan Kibutsuji soaked in blood and prowling the streets. You ignored it as much as you could. Your work consumed you, as did bitterness. Night after night you were dragged from your home to tend to simple ailments which could have waited until morning. Night after night you felt your calling toward helping people dwindle. Your energy and your well of compassion depleted.

Time smoothed the edges of your mourning and you learned to live with that weight in your chest. Your work kept you busy. So busy in fact, that one night you fell asleep at your table with the oil lamp burning beside an open window and a stack of papers. You were fortunate to make it out of the house. But your research, your father’s notebooks, your home were all consumed by flames.

And it was then, as you stood helplessly watching your family home burn to the ground, that you saw him. 

Electric currents shot through your nerves, tingling along your spine as your eyes met. Muzan's gaze, once warm jasper red, was now a vibrant shade of crimson. He wore a fine black kariginu, elegantly embroidered with gold, and carried himself with an air of confidence– arrogance even– befitting of his noble name. 

The air in your lungs escaped you as you found yourself caught in a tangled web of thoughts; it was impossible, the man standing not ten feet away from you could not be Muzan, and yet… 

“How?” The one word which escaped you summarized so many of your questions. How was he still alive? How was he standing there so renewed, as if illness had never sapped away his strength? How had your father died and Muzan survived?

But he did not need to speak. Somehow you knew the answer; every fiber of your being screamed it at you: Muzan was no longer human. One word ran through your mind over and over: Yokai.

He approached you, each step slow and deliberate, as though he was still growing accustomed to his body. “You,” he said. His voice was the one thing completely unchanged; still as dark and enthralling as the first time you encountered him. “I… was searching for you.”

Your senses screamed at you to run from him, but your logical mind told you to stay. That urge to flee was wrong– there were no such things as monsters, of course he was human. What you were looking at was a miracle of medicine, nothing more.

Reaching out a hand, you gently clasped his chin between your fingers and tilted it from side to side, inspecting his visage. Though still pale, he was teeming with strength and every bit as beautiful as the day you met him. Your body reacted at once to his presence, remembering the way he had made you feel, surrendering himself to you and permitting you to use him for your pleasure. “You found a cure?”

“Yes.” His eyes fluttered shut at your touch, his lips parting around a hard-won breath. "And now I've returned for you.”

Muzan despised humans. 

The urge to kill, to end every life he encountered had been ceaseless since the day he imbibed the blue spider lily. Pitiful, wretched; every living thing was cursed to die sooner or later, and what better way than by his hands. He was a calamity, a natural disaster, a god of death, with power that mere mortals could not fathom coursing through his veins. Life in all its forms disgusted him. 

But…

Not you. 

Bathed in the amber glow of the raging flames, he found you, his Goddess, the one woman he had ever loved, if only for an hour or two in a life half-forgotten. He knew your scent, your taste, your soul.

His rage, his bloodlust, his vengeful heart stood still and meek at the sight of you in your soot-stained nightdress– so fragile and yet so powerful. And when you reached out to clasp his chin between your delicate fingers, oh… he felt as if his lungs had turned to iron. 

How could that be? How could such a gentle touch quell the raging beast? How could a mere mortal render a demon so powerless. A quiet sound of longing emerged from between his lips. Only it wasn’t simply a sound, it was your name, spoken with a reverence he hadn’t known he was capable of. He hadn’t even known he remembered it, the vestiges of his mortal life all but faded.

And then you kissed him.

Every atom of him pulled toward you; warring desires of lust and hunger as the supple flesh of your lips teased his. And before his aversion to humanity had time to kick in, he found himself kissing you back, his fingers threading through your hair, his heart beating to the fervent rhythm of a desperate mortal man. 

Oh, what was this power you wielded so casually? He was terror beyond comprehension, yet as your tongue slipped into his mouth, his knees damn near gave out.

Of course, he had lied to you. His true purpose in searching for your home had been purely to uncover your father’s notes and discover additional information on the formula which had transformed him… but as you kissed him, his grasp on that goal faltered entirely. Besides, your home was in flames, the research likely burned to ash. It didn’t matter.

“I thought you were dead,” you whispered, lips trembling against his before you pulled back and gazed into his eyes with a mix of curiosity and relief. As besieged as he was by his need for you, it seemed you fared no better. The fire behind you paled in comparison to the light you found in each other’s presence.

Perhaps his apparent resurrection had shaken you from your senses, perhaps you were susceptible to his sway, or perhaps you were simply a different kind of monster than he, but amidst the wreckage of your life, he saw no fear in your eyes. No. Your eyes reflected only his image. 

And as for Muzan… Muzan found himself blinkered to the world beyond you. The flames paled, the night faded, and the moon lost her luster. 

You were his moon now. 

His only moon. 

Dawn was fast approaching and he needed to shelter from the sun’s lethal rays. He would make you this thrall if necessary. But he would not let go of you now that he had you.

“Come,” he said, offering you his arm. “You can stay with me.”

Everyone had assumed the Kibutsuji mansion was empty. The gardens were overgrown, the windows boarded over, no one came or left. But somehow you found yourself in a room you had only ever visited once before but which you remembered in vivid detail– Muzan’s bedroom. From the inside the house looked exactly the same as it had five years ago; clean and elegant. The tatami mats in his room were well-maintained, the walls decorated with soft clouds and graceful cranes. The only change was that the somber air of lingering death was no longer present. 

The first time you met him you had felt that immediately; the looming presence of death and sorrow surrounding Muzan. But now, even knowing what had occurred in that house, that it was very possible you stood in the same spot that your father died in, you felt only relief, curiosity, and an overwhelming urge to be at Muzan’s side.

You couldn’t tear your eyes from him as he hung a red sheet of ramie fabric over the already boarded window, blocking out the pale gray slivers of light between the wooden panels.

“You’re an intelligent woman,” he said at last. “I think you know, don’t you? Your logical mind is telling you it can’t be true, but your gut is telling you otherwise. Tell me, what do you think I am?”

The question gave you pause. “You’re human, of course–”

“No, no…” he stepped closer, the fabric of his fine kariginu and hakama folding against your legs. “What does your instinct tell you?”

A chill crept along your spine as you looked into those blood-red eyes. His pupils were no longer round, but narrow almost reptilian slits. His skin was still as pale as the day you had met him, but it had been made flawless– without a blemish, shadow, or even pores. The air between you was stifling as you raised your hand to caress his cheek, finding his skin unnaturally hot. He should have been burning up with a fever. 

He bowed into your touch, breath blowing against your palm. Your lips found his once more, unable to resist the lure of his kiss even as your soul screamed at you to run.

But Muzan's lips remained still beneath yours, his hands grasping your upper arms with terrifying strength before the dam overflowed and he kissed you back slowly… almost experimentally.

And with that kiss you felt as though you were wrapped completely in a shroud of darkness.

“Yokai…” the word, spoken against his lips, sounded ridiculous and right on your tongue.

His smile widened as he pulled back and took your wrist in his hand, long talons pricking the tender flesh above your artery. “And yet, you aren’t afraid.”

"You killed my father, didn't you?” Heart emptying as the question left your mouth, you waited for the inevitable response. You knew before he even uttered a word. 

“Yes. I killed the doctor.”

The remnants of your world shattered around you as he admitted his crime so matter-of-factly. The pressure that had been building in your chest for five years finally released, and you felt as though you were drawing breath for the first time. 

“I was not yet a demon,” Muzan said, his eyes distant, the trace of his smile still lingering. “I was still very much mortal.”

Your blood burned. After five years of numbness your soul awakened, and your ire was unleashed upon the demon before you. 

“Curse you!” you spat, striking him across the face with all your strength. He didn’t even twitch, even though your palm throbbed and stung so severely tears sprung to your eyes. Still your rage poured over. You pounded his chest with the sides of your fists, over and over until your arms ached and your breath was nothing more than ragged burning gasps.“Damn you to fucking hell, Muzan Kibutsuji.” 

He simply stood and bore your wrath, his arms extending to support you when your legs gave out and you stumbled forward, tears soaking into the fabric of his kariginu. When you sank to your knees, Muzan knelt with you. The arms which wound around your back were strong and sure, nothing like the weakened limbs of the man you had known. And yet, as he held you and permitted you to cry and curse and strike him, you found comfort and catharsis in his rigid embrace. 

“And curse me too,” you wept. “Gods, I can’t help but want you.”

“Have me then,” he whispered, his thumbs swiping away your tears. His touch was comforting and infuriating, far gentler than a monster that you were supposed to hate should have been capable of. “You have been the torment of these past five years, the damned itch I could not scratch. I have wanted you every single day since that first encounter. Every day, both in this form, and the pathetic mortal I once was.” He forced a breath through his nose, his crimson eyes narrowing as he bowed his head to rest against yours. “I don’t care if you despise me. Just—”

You silenced him with a kiss, hard and deep, full of loathing and longing, your treacherous body aching for him, seeking the solace of simple pleasure. Muzan was familiar and strange all at once. He still kissed the same way he had as a mortal; his lips lazy and soft, receiving your kiss rather than kissing you. And yet It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the heat, the sensation, the delectable whimpers of yearning coming from him, purging the bitter poison which had infected your heart for years.

Despite his inhuman strength, Muzan bent to your will, allowing you to push him backward until he was forced to let you go, bracing his hands on the tatami mat by his ankles for balance, his torso arced toward you.

By some demonic art, his fine clothes simply disappeared, falling from his body in  tatters and dissolving into the air. His robe, his hakama, his kanmuri cap all seemed to melt before your eyes, leaving the man completely bare. His long, black waves of hair tumbled down over his shoulders as you traced the lithe shape of his abdomen, his muscles twitching and stuttering beneath your palms.

Even in this corrupt, demonic form, he was so beautiful he made your lungs ache, and just as willing to submit to you as he was when he was mortal. And while he seemed to feel no pain when you hit him, your gentler touches made him crumble. A broken sigh escaped his lips as you ran your fingernails across his chest, catching his nipples and making him gasp. 

Gods, you were certain you were going to hell; the nights you had silently resented your patients had long ago ensured that. What harm was there in indulging the whims of your desire? 

You kissed him firmly, sinking your teeth into his lower lip, relishing the deep, shivering groan which tumbled from his lips as you ran your fingers through the trail of ink-black hair starting at his navel, and wrapped your hand around his semi-hard cock.

“You destroyed my world,” you hissed against his ear. “Now it’s my turn to destroy you.”

“Do what you will,” he said, his voice strained as you pulled his hips toward you with one hand and began to pump his cock in your other fist. “I am yours.”

He should not have felt anything toward you, and it irked him that he did. That a demon should bend so willingly to a loathsome mortal– the fact that he didn’t loathe you at all. None of it made any sense. Every other human he had encountered had sparked nothing in him but an overwhelming urge to snuff out the miserable light of their existence and tear their flesh with his teeth. But not you.

Why?

The question ran around and around his mind. Why you, out of all the thousands of humans he had encountered in his demon form? Why didn’t he want to crush you, consume you, break you, watch the life leave your eyes?

His throat flexed as you pressed your mouth to his chest, your tongue slippery and warm against his nipple, sending humiliating bolts of pleasure darting straight to his cock. 

Fuck, the pace of your ministrations was brutal, the tunnel of your fist aggressively tight. Pleasure and pain tangled and became one as you bit his chest, pulling the air from his lungs as your teeth sank into plush muscle and flesh.

It was as if no time had passed at all the moment you touched him; you had complete dominion over his body and his pleasure. The strength and power he had acquired were meaningless in your presence. He was as weak to you then as he had been on his deathbed. 

“Ahh… curse you, woman,” he groaned, fighting the urge to put an end to it even as he thrust his hips toward you. "You'll be the death of me."

“Silence,” you hissed, firmly slapping his chest, making his nipples tingle and pucker before returning your mouth to one, and tickling the unattended one with your fingertips and causing him to moan.

The power you held over him was humiliating, and it made his cock so hard he could barely function. Your soft hands, punishing him with such ruthless pleasure, expertly pulled him apart. The bliss you gave him was the first he had felt since that day you bestowed upon him your own brand of medicine, and now, embittered and vengeful, you still felt just as sweet. His stomach muscles clenched and spasmed as he drew closer to oblivion, his eyelids fluttered shut.

“Ngh…” He panted. “I’m… almost—”

“Are you close, my pretty demon lord?” you whispered.

He nodded, his breaths just shattering gasps. “So close…”

“Good.” You stopped and released your grip. 

His heart emptied. “No damn you don’t stop. Don’t… nghhh… stop!” he cried out as his orgasm limped through him, its power completely dwindled by the loss of your touch. His cock wept pathetically, half-heartedly spurting and dribbling cum as he gasped for breath. “Cruel… torturess...”

“A small price to pay for what you’ve done,” you said, pulling off your sooty nightdress and casting it aside. 

Muzan’s breath hitched. He remembered your shape in vivid detail when he remembered nothing else of his human life; every curve and crease of your form, the warmth and plush softness of your thighs cradling his head. He remembered your taste, your scent, the way you had praised him, the way you had held him afterward and told him he had done well. But you were somehow even more beautiful having aged half a decade. 

He should have despised it; the relentless march of time, the fleeting nature of your mortality. But he could not despise you. Never. Time had softened you, made you somehow ethereal to his eyes. Muzan had never truly believed in gods, but you elicited the same reverence in him he imagined the temple monks felt when they beheld the rising sun. To him, you were divine, a vengeful goddess. 

And who better to walk at his side for eternity?

You leaned back in, taking hold of his cock once more, your touch sending jolts of searing torment through his body. It was too much, and yet he craved you so completely he was even willing to endure your cruelty.

And while you mercilessly jerked his cock, you slapped his chest again. And again. Of course, the physical pain was nothing to him, but your audacity, the way you humiliated him… it made heat pool in his chest, kept his cock from going limp, made his cheeks rosy, and before long he was little more than a blushing, mewling mess. “Please…”

“Please what?” Your soft hands pumped up and down his length, using his cum to make them glide. “Is this where you beg my forgiveness?”

“No… no I would never beg that… I don’t need your forgiveness– ahh-hahh–”

You bestowed another slap to his breast. Gods, it thrilled him to no end, to watch the blood and heat rising in your face, to know he was pushing you and you would keep on giving. Your domination was beautiful, your touch addictive. And you were enjoying this as much as he was. He could see the arousal in your face; the way your pupils almost drowned out the color of your eyes, your staggered breaths, and flushed cheeks. 

In five years of slaughtering every mortal he encountered, five years of watching them cower with tear-streaked faces and eyes bulging with fear, he hadn’t found a single one so unrattled by his demonic nature. And he simply adored you for that fact. Among others. 

He couldn’t stop himself from collapsing forward, to press his face to your neck, breathing in the intoxicating scent of your skin. How his body ached for you; both the delectable taste of your flesh, and the divine sanctum of your cunt. “Please,” he whimpered. “Please…”

“I mourned you,” you said, your lips against his ear. “I wished you were back in my arms on the nights I had nothing else to cling to besides memories. And all along you were this… monster.”

He should not have cared. It was against his nature to feel empathy or even regret… but some part of him did. Some small, shriveled part of him did regret hurting you.

When you grasped his jaw between your fingers, he allowed you to lift his chin, moaning as your tongue slid up the length of his throat, warm and wet and voracious. His body undulated involuntarily, his hips pistoning away from you as the stimulation grew unbearable. 

“If I’d have come to you sooner you…” His body jolted as you took hold of his cock once more. “Mmhgh… you would have hated me even more than you do now.”

"Oh my foolish demon Lord, I don't hate you." You whispered, flicking his nipple with your tongue. "How could I bring myself to hate something so pitifully beautiful?"

"Pitiful? The gall…"

You smirked. "Yes, pitiful. Look at you, Muzan.”

Raising his head, he looked down at his body and a gasp escaped his lips. His chest was flushed pink, littered with bite marks he had no inclination to heal, his nipples swollen and glistening with your saliva. His cock was bright red at the tip, glazed with his own spend, twitching in your grasp. The humiliation of it all only made him need you more. “Only for you.”

“Such a pretty sight. So overcome. So utterly helpless. All for me.”

Your praise, your derision… It was too much. His broken breaths and clenching muscles made his chest and belly judder as he drew nearer his climax. His cock throbbed in your hand.

"Ah… you're close again?" You taunted, slowing your strokes to an unbearably languid pace. “Human or yokai, it’s all the same, Muzan. Your cock will always belong to me.”

"Ohhhh-oh-oh-oh curse you…" he ground out in agony, his eyes screwing shut. "If you don't hate me, why then do you insist on torturing me?"

“Tell me to stop,” you whispered against his ear.

Damn you. “Never.”

“Good. You take your punishments well, Muzan.” You smirked as he fell against you once more, desperately trying to buck his hips against your palm. “Tell me, who owns your cock?”

“I won’t say it.”

You pinched his nipple harshly, making him whine. 

His dignity was in tatters and you had the single thread holding him together in your grasp. “Fine.” He bared his teeth as your thumb teased the weeping slit of his cock with languorous circles. “You do.”

“Good boy.”

As soon as the words left your lips his orgasm erupted, his seed squirting from him in pearly ropes, spraying his thighs and belly as his back curved in euphoria. The broken, feral cries which emerged from him were muffled by your lips as you pulled him into a claiming kiss.

Even as he came undone, you managed to send desire spearing though his body, sucking his lower lip the way you had when he was mortal, your arms wrapping around his back, holding him firmly to you.

“Ffffuck, let me taste you,” he begged as you broke away from the kiss, gazing up into your eyes and despising the desperate whininess of his voice. One night was not enough. He needed to spend his unending years with you, surrendering to you and earning your adoration. "I need to taste your cunt. I need it.”

And you, merciful goddess of vengeance, were only happy to oblige.

Muzan groaned as he dragged his tongue through the slick folds of your labia, sending frissons of pleasure rolling through your body. You lay on your back with him between your thighs, head raised to watch him devour you. Despite everything, his beauty still enraptured you; the ebony waves of his hair spilling over your thighs, his crimson eyes fixed on yours, the subtle curve of his lips as he tasted you again. So beautiful and so utterly wicked.

“That’s it,” you said, pulling in a shaking breath as his tongue lapped at your clit. “Keep doing that. Don't stop until I say.”

As a human his technique had been sloppy, unskilled but eager, and as a demon he was no different, only now his strength was unfathomable, and he apparently no longer needed to breathe. What he apparently lacked in experience he made up for with fervor, licking you with such frantic and animalistic passion you could hardly stop from crying out. Your hand came down to thread your fingers through his hair, your grip tightening as you bucked your hips against his mouth.

Gods, by rights you should have despised him; the monster who had left your life in tatters, but try as you might to hate him, your weary soul craved the comforting abyss of his. You knew the hands which clung to your thighs had choked the life from people. The mouth hellbent on driving you to euphoria had feasted upon human flesh. The heart you felt so strongly bound to was wicked and inhuman. 

And none of it mattered. 

None of it mattered because for the first time in five years, you had some semblance of control. The monster lapping at your core was yours to command, bending to your whims because it pleased him to do so. No one was begging you to save lives. No one needed you for anything more than your cunt. 

With that beast between your thighs you finally found peace. Muzan gave you such simple, primal pleasure which deadened the rest of the world. The cries of the dying, the fists pounding at your door, the choking coughs of the sick and frightened villagers who clung to you and pleaded with you to do what you could not… all silenced. 

The pounding rhythm of your heart, the gasps emerging from your lips, the growls and wet sound of his mouth devouring your essence, they drowned out the constant hum of the world. 

“Please,” he whispered against your cunt as he circled his nose around your clitoris and lapped at your entrance. He pressed two fingers inside you, pumping them slowly and sending electricity rolling through your spine with every thrust. 

You were close, your muscles clenching and breath becoming staggered. “Please…what?”

“This. For eternity.” His lips surrounded your clit, lavishing it with a deep, loving kiss before whispering against it, “Let me worship you forever. Let me take you away from all the death, the sickness, the misery.”

“Yes,” was all you could manage as you came undone, fingers tangling in his long hair, pushing him down to grind your cunt against his ravenous mouth.

The feral growl which emerged from him only extended your pleasure, your walls fluttering and clenching around his fingers as he put his wicked tongue to divine work. Waves of euphoria rolled through you as you cried out in bliss, only vaguely aware of a brief pinprick of pain deep in your cunt. 

And amidst the pleasure you felt the sensation of being filled, as though it was his cock inside you, spilling into you, pumping you full of his seed. But that couldn’t be.

“Muzan…” you gasped, “that’s enough.”

His chin was glistening with your essence as he withdrew his fingers and pulled back to kiss his way up your body.

“You are mine forever,” Muzan said as he lay down beside you. His breath was hot against your neck. “And I am hopelessly yours. If you are my moon then I am your wolf. Your hands are the only hands wound around my leash, your voice the only sound that can bring me to heel.” His eyes drifted over your flesh. “Please let me taste you.”

“Haven’t you tasted enough? Ever the greedy nobleman, even when you’re no longer a man.”

A slow smirk tilted his lips. “I don’t mean your cunt. I mean your blood.”

Logic told you that you should be disgusted by his request, but you were anything but. Some part of you was curious, some part of you no longer feared pain. And some part of you was deeply aroused by the thought of it. 

“Very well,” you sighed, “since you were so good for me.”

The sharp pain of his fangs piercing your neck was only momentary, before pleasure overtook it, stronger and even more consuming than any orgasm. It throbbed through your body, pulling primal cries of bliss from you. 

“Mmmhh…” A deep moan emerged from him as he drank your blood, his cock throbbing against you. 

The ecstasy was overwhelming and never ending; your cunt still throbbing while his teeth penetrated your flesh. That feeling of fullness bloomed in your belly, a heat gathering deep in your core, the pain of it deadened by the pleasure of his bite. Your lifeforce leaked into him as he lay beside you, his unattended cock pressed against your hip as he compulsively rutted against you.

Finally, he withdrew his fangs, lapping at the wound he left in his wake, savoring every drop of you. And at once your body was consumed by the throbbing pain in your core. 

“Gods… what did you do to me?” you asked, gasping for breath as your hand coiled around his bicep, anchoring you to him. The slick heat of his tongue on your throat made you ache.

“I gave my moon a gift.” He brought his trembling fingers up to cup your face, peppering your cheeks with soft persuasive kisses. “More than pleasure. More than love. I have given you eternal life.”

“What– Muzan… what is this?”

“Yokai,” he whispered against your ear. “We are the same, you and I. I gave you my blood and you gave me yours.”

Your heart rate spiked as the meaning of his words settled upon you. It was his blood inside you. The essence coursing through your veins was no longer just yours but his as well, his demonic power flooding through you, transforming your mortal body into that of a demon.

And it burned. It burned so badly you wanted to tear out your veins.

Some part of you fought back, perhaps your soul, or perhaps simple animal instinct, snarling in the depths of your mind that he had no right to this, no right to steal away your humanity and pull you into darkness with him. But that protest was swiftly silenced by the lure of the abyss he offered.

Muzan was the devil, but you welcomed his oblivion, knowing that the ceaseless din of life dared not enter his shadow.

So instead you clung to him, crying out in agony and euphoria as he held your convulsing body to his, the tender touch of his fingers threading through your hair at odds with the pain flowing through you.

"No more death," he said, holding you as agony and darkness engulfed you. In the shadows, only his voice remained. "You will live eternally at my side, bound to me as I am to you.” 

Muzan’s body no longer needed air to live, and yet he released a shaking breath as he lay in the aftermath of passion. He had given you so much blood– more than he had ever intended. It was a miracle that your cells hadn’t rejected his gift.

You had survived the initial transformation but had not yet awakened. Try as he might to detach himself from concern, Muzan's blood-red gaze remained fixed on you, waiting for movement.

And he despised that. He despised that he had allowed such turmoil, that his defenses were lowered and the last vestige of his humanity still clung to his soul like a parasite. It was against his nature to feel anything beyond bloodlust and hatred, to crave anything but violence. But as you slept peacefully at his side, the heart he thought long-dead ached with the thought that you might never wake. 

He should not have cared whether you lived or died. And yet, he couldn't stand the thought of you slipping from his grasp. Perhaps it was simply his pride, refusing the world the audacity to take what was his. Or perhaps it was the fact that your presence, your love, your domination quelled his raging soul.

And, oh, when your eyes opened, when they shone with renewed strength and divine malice, he could hardly contain his excitement. He bit into the back of his hand as he took in your visage; his perfect creation, his love, his moon. Any resentment was entirely forgotten.

“You are beautiful,” he whispered, sitting to observe you as you pressed your tongue to the tip of your fangs. You were his triumph. You were proof of his genius, his power, his wisdom.

Your eyes darted around the room, wide and frantic as if seeing the world for the first time. “I can feel your strength in my veins.”

How that pleased him. To think that he had succeeded so spectacularly, that he had known instinctively to create you and had achieved such perfection. 

And you were right. He knew it the moment you slammed him to the ground and pinned him down, straddling his hips and grinding your heat against his weeping cock. 

He had imbued you with near terrifying strength. 

Despite his own demonic power, as he tried to raise his hands from where you held them to the tatami mat, he found himself as weak against you as he had been during that first encounter when his mortal body was ravaged by sickness.

Somehow, he had made you even stronger than himself.

And damn it all, that excited him beyond anything he had ever known. There wasn’t a force on earth that could hold him down but you.

He was powerless as you lowered yourself onto him, the wet heat of your perfect cunt squeezing his cock and pulling a pathetic whimper from him. 

“That’s it,” you grinned, your fangs protruding over your lower lip. “You make such pretty sounds for me.” You pressed your clit to his mons and rolled your hips, damn near euphoric as you ground against his coarse hair, seeking friction. It seemed your transformation had heightened your hedonism, and Muzan found himself little more than a tool for your indulgence. 

“Curse you to hell,” he groaned, the heat rising in his face as you used his cock for your own selfish pleasure. 

“Now now, Muzan,” you chided, your voice as foreboding as an oncoming storm. “Play nice, or you’ll never get to cum again.”

His lip curled, bearing his fangs as you rode him at an agonizingly languid pace. “What have I done?” he groaned, throwing his head back as you kept him hanging on the edge of pleasure. “I’ve created a monster.” Try as he might, he couldn’t break free to grip your hips and control your pace. Your thighs kept him wedged so he couldn’t thrust up into you.

When you came his eyes flooded with tears of frustration and adoration and anger, even the walls of your cunt made stronger and more devastating by your transformation. Every pulse of your orgasm squeezed his cock almost unbearably tight. 

“Ah-ah-ah fu-uh-uhck,” he groaned, the sinews in his neck straining as he clenched his own core and tried once more to buck his hips into you, desperate for release. “Please please please please.”

“So you do remember your manners,” you smirked as you lifted your hips, until only the very tip of his cock remained buried inside you.

Gods, he was on the verge of tears as he raised his head to watch it almost slipping out of you. “No please, no please don’t stop… let me cum please don’t do this to me.”

Desperation cracked his voice but he no longer cared about his dignity. It was irreparable at this point anyway. His ego was gone, his only concern was that you kept on pleasuring him.

“Say you’re sorry for all you’ve done.”

“I’m sorry,” he cried, as sincere as he had ever been. “Forgive me, forgive me please.”

You simply threw your head back and laughed, dropping down onto his cock with enough force to drive a cry from his lips. And you fucked him hard, fast, the pleasure so intense his legs trembled. You released his wrists and lightly slapped his chest again and again, not enough to hurt, but enough to make the fat and muscle ripple beneath your blows.

Curse you. Curse you and the way you made him adore you. Curse you and the power you so mercilessly and perfectly wielded over him. 

“Oh fuck,” he gasped, sucking in a breath as the first throbbing pulses of his orgasm rocked through him. “Oh fuck.”

“Cum for me, Muzan. I won’t stop until it’s dripping out of me with every thrust.”

You tore him apart with your pleasure, his back arching as he flooded your cunt, cumming harder than he ever had. What a monster you were, what a wonderfully malevolent goddess.

“Nghh, fuck,” he groaned, covering his flushed face with his arms as you rode him tirelessly, not a drop of his seed spilling from you. “It’s too much… please…”

The gleam in your eyes said you were far from finished. “Now, Muzan… I’m disappointed. Surely you’re not so easily defeated. I know you can keep cumming for me, my pretty king.” 

Curse you. He was simply helpless. 

Tags: @vampcubus @cloverussy @birbgoboom @chiyoso @taramultiuniverse

And he adored it. 

Pov: Adam running to get married with Y/n

@russelross68 thanks for the idea!

They’re so normal