・﹒・ First Sight

Hi there!! I absolutely adore your works<3 When I saw you wanted requests, I wanted to send one in. This one is for KNY:)

Could you please do Kokushibo with a petite reader? Like, the reader is only a short five feet (around 150 cm) tall? I would absolutely love that❤️

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐭!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐊𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐨𝐮

He, being 6'2" (190 cm), finds it awfully cute.

He may not show it, but he absolutely freaks out when you ask him for help to reach something on a higher shelf.

You'll often find yourself being held, most often bridal style.

Now, he loves you more than anyone could ever love their significant other, but sometimes.. his protectiveness can get in the way of his love for you.

He would sooner throw Muzan on top of fans at a Michael Jackson concert and let him crowdsurf before he ever let you get hurt.

Even in the slightest.

If he were to witness someone mocking you for your height, he'd barely have enough self control to hold himself back from pouncing on them.

He's not usually one for affection, but he will, on occasion, leave gentle kisses to the top of your head.

When you two are alone, he'll bend over and whisper sweet nothings into your ears for a few minutes before walking off as though nothing happened.

He has a habit of just... scooping you up into his arms and holding you close.

If you cook, he'll often stay with you when you cook to gather ingredients for you.

If you want to get something down yourself, he'll put you on his shoulders and lift you up high enough to grab it.

He loves to dance with you, as odd as it is.

He loves to lift you up and watch your legs get lifted from the ground.

Your laughs as he does so is also another thing he looks forward to when you dance.

All in all, your height is just adorable to him.

Slides this across the table @voxsremotec0ck

I have never drawn something so fast

🌕  ~NSFW & Female!Reader

🌕  ~Kokushibo gives his beloved a lesson after her little escape attempt

🌕  ~Warnings: Yandere, Noncon, Blood kink, Dacryphilia, Size difference, Monster fucking, Double penetration,

🌕  ~ If you don’t like  the warnings, than don’t read it or comment

🌕  ~ Word count: 3241

✰ ———————– ✰  

It had to have been hours since Kokushibo left you behind for his mission, and despite the pins and needles in your legs, you moved away from your spot and headed to the bathroom.

During the first few day since you were forcefully brought to this hellhole, you noticed that a small spot in the bathroom had a weak spot, scraping the weak spot every time Kokushibo left in hopes it one day broke and you could ran away.

Lowering yourself down to your knees and turning towards the weak spot, which already had the smallest hole from all the times you scraped at it.

After a while a hole big enough for your arm to fit through formed, you stuck your arm out and moved it around, not caring when a few cuts bled on your arm.

Finally, you made the weak spot big enough for you to escape, finally after all the months here, you can leave and return to your family.

You did understand why that monster was so obsessed with you, during you stay with him, he had revealed that you were a resurrection of a past lover of his.

It didn’t matter who you were in the past or who you were to him back than, this is a new life and he had to move on.

Keep reading

ENAMORED (II)

Modern Hantengu clones X Reader

Featuring:

"Pissed Cubicle Worker" Sekido

"Depressed Programmer" Aizetsu

"That Guy in the Alley" Karaku

"Unfunny YouTube Prankster" Urogi

"Disappointed Grandpa" Hantengu

"Delinquent Middle Schooler" Zohakuten

"Possibly a Criminal" Akaza

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

You will NOT be shipped with Zohakuten or Hantengu because:

A.) One is an old man

B.) One is a young boy

Ty for your time 😌

fem!Y/N goes for her last job with Murata's Service Emporium 😢 but gets an interesting offer due to her *OUTSTANDING* work.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Hantengu.

You've heard of that household. They order some sort of cleaning service every month or so. Only, it's never been you that has gone before, so how exactly do you know about their service requests?

BECAUSE APPARENTLY THEY'RE FUCKING INSANE.

Some of the other employees have literally returned from the job crying.

WHICH INCLUDES, BUT IS NOT LIMITED TO TERRY THE GARDENER! A TALL, BUFF MAN!

WHAT DEMON IN THAT HOUSE IS MAKING A GROWN MAN CRY LIKE THAT? WHY DOES YOUR BOSS HATE YOU? WHY CAN'T YOU JUST CURL UP IN A BALL AND FOSSILIZE.

You sigh. A big sigh. A really, really long sigh.

If you had the heart to, you would've quit the moment your boss revealed he was going to fire you, only.. you knew it was like him to try and withhold your paycheck for the week if you did. Obviously, he can't do that if you've done your job on schedule for any amount of time, but you're not gonna jump through flaming hoops just to stick it to the guy.

Easier to just get this over with.

You grab your supplies and load your car.

Yes, they make you use your own transport for this job. No, they don't pay for gas.

Maybe losing this job won't be so bad after all.

Starting up the map on your phone, you type in the adress of this demon house and get ready to be very fucking miserable for however long you spend there.

The clouds are grey this morning, as they are every morning, but this morning is different. Maybe it's because you fell down two flights of stairs. Maybe it's because you held some handsome guy's hand this morning when he helped you up. Maybe it's because you literally just got fired like 10 minutes ago. But something is different.

○○○○○

Unbeknownst to you, in the opposite lane of traffic, Sekido is screaming at the cars infront of him.

Nevermind, it's not just Sekido. In some strange sort of... brotherly bonding ritual, both Sekido and Zohakuten are screaming at the car infront of them (which is going the speed limit).

"WHY WON'T YOU PRESS YOUR DAMN GAS? THERE ARE PEOPLE OUT HERE WITH JOBS AND SHITHEADS WITH SCHOOL! 20 ABOVE THE LIMIT NEVER KILLED ANYBODY!"

"...Sekido, I think 20 above the limit has killed people. BUT THOSE PEOPLE WERE GOING TOO DAMN SLOW!"

Sekido's grey minivan pulled up to the school. Zohakuten grabbed his bag and opened the door, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"...Zohakuten."

Red eyes met his, and he felt slightly uncomfortable at how calm Sekido was managing to be.

"....what."

"....one day."

"wha–"

"One day without doing some stupid shit to get sent home or to the principal's office. If you do, I'll... I don't fucking know, have the gods come down and kiss you on the nose one by one. Just be good. Ok?" He said, almost in a... defeated tone.

Zohakuten, for a moment, was dumbfounded. Had Aizetsu taken over Sekido's body? Was this some sort or trick? Who did he think he was? It's not his fault he'll never use this crap again. Nor is it his fault that some of the kids are little shitheads.

Instead of saying all this, out of respect for Sekido's effort to be *nice*

(Literally, beads of sweat were beginning to form on Sekido's face, and he looked constipated)

....he nodded.

"Okay. I want ice cream after school."

And shut the car door.

Sekido was left by himself, face immediately breaking back into that scowl he wore so well.

"Fucking ice cream. I might as well get him a horse and a spaceship while I'm servicing His Majesty. Seriously, how hard is it not to throw desks?"

○○○○○

Your car stopped infront of a mansion.

Maybe not a mansion, but.. it was something.

A three story house with 2 vehicles in front (AND A MOTORCYCLE?). However, the only decorations in front were a little knome and a set of windchimes. You could also faintly hear "Barbie Girl" playing from somewhere in the home.

At the very least, it was... a flattering home. The outside didn't look too bad, but you were at least slightly concerned about the inside.

You knocked on the door, cleaning supplies in hand.

"Murata's Service Emporium!"

The door creaked open slightly, before opening to reveal a rather handsome, dark-skinned man in nothing but a towel and.... a face mask and hair curlers.

His eyes were a deep emerald green, a complete contrast from his skin that you were HERE FOR.

He looked you up and down, before turning his attention back into the house. "Aizetsu! Your escort is here!"

Immediately your face turned red. "Wha- did you not hear what I said when I knocked!?"

He raised a brow at you.

"Service Emporium?"

Oh.

That actually sounds pretty bad when taken out of context.

"...okay, but why would I be holding all of these cleaning supplies?"

He looked down at you again.

"I don't know what freaky stuff Aizetsu's into, okay? Are you coming in or not?" He huffed.

You reluctantly waddled in and set your things down.

Oh my.

It was a disaster.

The dishes were piled sky-high, the floor SEVERELY UN-VACUUMED... you had work to do.

Another man, almost identical to the one who opened the door, approached you in a rush. His eyes, though, were blue, and significantly more lifeless than the guy before him.

"I'm sorry.. I am Aizetsu. As you can see, our house is a disaster... sorry."

And he walked away.

THAT WAS ALL HE HAD TO SAY?

WAS HE EVEN GOING TO PAY YOU?

HE'S JUST GONNA LEAVE?

You were starting to understand the struggle.

○○○○○

The camera lens was clean. The audio was crisp. In his browser "solt jasz musuc backgriund" was playing.

Everything was perfect.

And now, out of his room once again, was the legendary, the one and only, greatest failed theater kid of all time..

Urogi!

And he was ready. Ready to bamboozle this busy, strangely attractive woman that wandered her way into his home. Ready. But she wasn't.

Which is what made it good content.

And good content -> motorcycle upgrades.

Which he wanted.

Very badly.

So there he was, creeping up behind you, four cans of silly string in one hand, a camera in the other.

You, on the other hand, were almost finished up here. You cleaned in and out, over and under, anywhere you could. The dishes were dried and put away, and everything was soon to be in order. The only task you had left was to sweep the kitchen. A relatively easy job. After that, you could get out of here, and... you didn't have a job to go to.

Hadn't thought of that in a while.

But there wasn't any time to think about it when you heard something being set on the counter behind you. You turned around, only to be met with a man leaping at you.

Naturally, you dodged out of the way, dropping the broom and hooking your attacker around the neck, locking him in a chokehold. All was well until a flurry of colors came flying toward you into your hair and eyes.

Immediately you were overpowered, your key sense being obstructed. You were pushed over near the sofa, being sprayed relentlessly with some sort of squishy string-like material.

You were quick to recover, and reached up to what you assumed to be the sofa, taking off one of the pillows and swinging wildly at your attacker. Terrifying laughter was heard from above you, and you overturned them until you had them in prime suffocating position. Moments into your retaliation, you pulled some of the strange material off of your face, only to see the face of both people you met earlier. Except this one had yellow eyes.

You paused in your struggle with him, both of you huffing and puffing like you were about to blow someone's house away.

He stared up at you, and you stared down at him, before your gaze flickered up to the counter, only to see a camera placed there and aimed directly at the two of you.

Footsteps distracted you from this realization.

"Aizetsu? Your escort got loose. I think she got confused. Did you not tell her about being a quad?" It was the green-eyed man, back with his bunny slippers and some actual clothes, but no hair curlers or face masks.

"IM NOT A PROSTITUTE!" You snapped at him, smacking the man under you again with the pillow for good measure.

"Why the hell is there a woman on top of Urogi? Why are you just watching, Karaku? You sick fuck.."

Another voice was heard, deeper and more gruff than the rest. You looked up, and saw another man identical to all three of the others! Unlike his counterparts, this one had blood-red eyes.

"What's going on? Are you all siblings?" You said, before mentally face-pamling. Of course they're all siblings. What else would they be?

"Of course we're siblings. What else would we be? Idiot." The red-eyed man growled, before hanging his keys and stomping off to who knows where.

The man under you tapped on your forehead.

"...can I get up?"

You rolled your eyes at him, delivering another smack with the pillow before getting off of him. "You don't just sneak up on some unsuspecting person like that!" You scolded, but he didn't listen. He was already busy fiddling with his camera.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, mumbling a slew of curses before going to pick up the broom.

"So clean, so clean! It looks like this house is brand new! Where are they? The cleaner? Where are they?" A labored, weak voice sounded from the hallway. An old man appeared, and hobbled toward you. You tried backing away, but it was no use, as he grabbed your face to examine you.

"Lovely girl, lovely girl! Cleaned up everything perfectly! You're the angel who cleans up my grandsons' mess every month, are you? Lovely girl!" His voice was trembling, as were his hands.

He must be talking about the company. But before you have time to explain, he cuts you off.

"I wish to hire you, lovely girl! Lovely girl! You can live in my home, in the spare room! You can clean up and teach my grandsons how to behave! Will you? Don't leave an old man like me helpless. Their mother isn't around to teach them to behave, will you? Lovely girl?"

Your eyes widened at the offer. "..hire? Like, for money?"

The old man laughed. Well, he tried, but it came out as a cough. "For housing? Food? Anything you'd like?"

"....and for money?"

"...yes, I'll pay you weekly."

You needed time to recollect your thoughts! Living here, with unknown people? Cleaning! More cleaning!

But at least you'd have a roof over your head, and food, and 'whatever you'd like' whatever that was. And you'd even have your own money on the side. Maybe you could save for a house? To go back to school?

At that point, only Karaku and the old man were left in the room, eyes trained on you. Karaku's lips broke into a smile. He knew what your answer was going to be.

"..I'll do it."

Headcanons: Kokushibo and Muzan with a shy S/O

Kokushibo

Kokushibo doesn't mind that you don't want to be in most social settings. In fact, due to his reserved nature, he's perfectly fine with it.

He loves to spend time with you, especially since you two can enjoy each others company without speaking.

Overprotective of you. To unhealthy levels.

Kokushibo would never admit it, but he finds how easily you blush adorable. Just one touch or kiss and you are already a blushing mess.

Not a fan of PDA. Still, he would make an exception if he sees you need reassurance in public. Encouraging words included.

"Your efforts are admirable."

When you start stuttering, he patiently waits for you to fully say what you need. He doesn't care how long it takes.

If anyone dares to make fun of you due to your shyness, Kokushibo would deal with them. Making them understand they made the worst mistake of their lifes.

Muzan

Muzan appreciates that you think things through before doing or saying anything.

After a meeting with his very noisy subordinates, he loves nothing more than to get back home with you. Just reading by your side, in silence, helps him soothe his nerves.

Would force you to look at him when you kiss. He doesn't like when you advert your eyes when he's about to share an intimate moment with you.

Muzan takes pride in the fact that he's one of the few people who fully knows you.

He orders one of his subordinates to stay by your side when he has to leave. Muzan doesn't want anyone to take advantage of you just because you have difficultes dismissing people or saying no.

In order to help you be more confident of yourself, Muzan brings some of his subordinates for you to command.

"Order them around. Don't restrain yourself."

He doesn't care if you don't want to do so. For him, it's for your own good.

I would like to make a request? It's nearing halloween, and I had an idea. How would the Hantengu clones react to their significant other dressing up as them for Halloween? Like, would they approve or disapprove? (If you're too busy, I understand fully, and you can feel free to ignore my request; ☆)

AIZETSU:

You finished putting on the costume.. You looked in the mirror.. looking absolutely gorgeous.. You were thinking to yourself.. "Aizetsu is totally going to love this..!" Aizetsu is waiting for you to open the door. The silence was killing him. The door to your room was closed shut. And yet, He was dying of curiosity of what was behind that door. In reality, He knew.. But didn't want to acknowledge that you were a very beautiful woman. You had all the curves of a true woman.. And.. He was embarrassed of such things. "Y/N darling.. It's Aizetsu!~" He knocked on the door again..

"Coming, darling~!" You quickly ran to the door and opens it for him. You were indeed a beautiful woman, just as he expected. "Do you like it?" You asked with a flirtatious look that melted his heart. Aizetsu is standing their speechless as his face was covered in red. He was blushing so hard that he had to hide behind his hair to cover himself up. He didn't want you to see what he truly felt.. "Y/N.. Did you.. Did you dress up.. As what I'd normally wear..?" He was shocked, yet so pleased by it.

You giggled as you approached him. "Not only that, I also dyed my hair in your color~!" You wrapped your arms around him and laid your head on his chest. "I dressed up as you to show how much I love you, Aizetsu~!" You leaned in for a kiss. Aizetsu's face was completely red as he was too embarrassed to even say one thing. It was quite obvious what he wanted to say.. He was blushing profusely. He knew that you were going to do something of such.. He didn't have a problem with it at all. He felt as if his heart was beating so fast.. As if it needed to be cooled off with his love, Y/N..

Aizetsu grabbed you… And pulled you in. Closing his eyes, and sharing a long kiss with you. You melted in Aizetsu's embrace. you were truly grateful that you'd has a significant other as caring as him. As they finished their kiss, they looked at eachother and smiled, eyes filled with love and affection. "I love you, Aizetsu~!" you told him, still holding onto him. Aizetsu held You in a tight embrace, as if he was afraid of letting go of you. He was very happy to make you happy, And his feelings were overflowing him like a wave of sadness that he had to control at all times. "I love you too, Y/N.~"

He kissed you again, in a more gentle way. And sighed after..

KARAKU:

You finished putting on her costume. You looked in the mirror and smiled. Your boyfriend, Karaku, had been so sweet and encouraging. You couldn't wait to show off your cosplay to him. "You're taking too long in there.. Come out soon because if you don't.. My love, I'll come in~" You open the door and reveals your cosplay to Karaku. "What do you think, love?" You smiled and twirled in your costume for him.

He gasped.

"Woah, Y/N! You are looking stunning. You know? I'm getting this tingly sensation from seeing you in that cosplay.. Maybe my demonic energy is getting to me. Hahaha!" Karaku was speechless as his face turned red. He just stared at your chest for a while. "Uhhh… Y/N? Your chest is.. Uhm.. A bit.. Open."

"O-Oh! Hehe! Thanks, Karaku. For a moment, I thought you weren't going to like it." You giggled and looked down at her chest. "Oh, right. That's a little embarrassing." You covered your chest with your arms. "Sorry about that, love."

Karaku's smirk caught Your attention. You looked up and gasped as Karaku approached you. His demon-like features made his expression more sinister than usual. You felt a weird sensation in your chest. Could this be… lust? "You look so hot in that costume sweetie~" Karaku whispered in your ear. He put his arms around your waist. "It would be a shame if someone were to…" He smirked and squeezed your hips.

"Touch you~…"

UROGI:

The wings you had bought were truly magnificent. The quality of the feathers was top shelf and the sewing had been done with precision. They looked like they had just come off of a phoenix. The thought brought you joy, as wearing this costume for the cosplay convention would certainly be a memorable experience.. A few minutes passed… No sound… No footsteps… Nothing. But after a few more minutes of silence… A sudden loud Knock on the door was heard…

"Okay babe. I'm coming in." When he opened the door, he was taken aback by the majestic sight of his partner. You were a total cutie patootie in your cosplay outfit. He couldn't help but to let out a whistle as he eyes you up and down. "I know I'm late darling, but I'm so damn proud of you. You look stunning…" You felt a slight tingle of pleasure when your boyfriend complimented you. You decided to be playful with him, so you did a little spin to flaunt your costume, allowing your boyfriend to get a better look at your exposed chest. "Ooo la la! Looks like we're having Devil's food for dinner tonight."

Urogi cat calls with a smug grin. After admiring your appearance, he got an idea and decided to up the 'Spice' factor. He then pinned you on the wall and gave you a passionate kiss against your will, much to your surprise. Your boyfriend's actions took you by surprise, but despite this, you felt a strange sense of pleasure from the 'Spice' factor he added. Your eyes widened as you tried to push him away, but you eventually gave in to his passionate kiss, the both of you continuing to make out in the room.

"Ahahaha! Who's the Devil now? You or Me dear!?~"

Urogi kept his partner held against the wall and their tongues danced passionately in a heated kiss. All of your movements, your breath, your skin, everything becomes a symphony for him. An ecstasy for the senses that you have never felt in your life..

SEKIDO:

Sekido was starting to get annoyed when you haven't came out of your room "Hmmphh. What is taking so long? Does she know how important is this?" This time his voice grew angrier as he tapped his foot at the floor, waiting for you to come out "How long I must wait!" You heard Sekido's loud angry voice. "Hey! Could you stop being so loud?" You sounded annoyed when you told Sekido that.

Sekido was triggered and grew even angrier when you yelled at him, his eyes grew red and he muttered some foul words under his breath. "Why should I be quiet?! You're taking way too long!!" This time his voice was filled with anger and Vexation. "Do you know how important it is that we should be spending our time together?!" You shortly left the room and then revealed your cosplay costume that you just finished making.

"What do you think?" Sekido's expression changed to surprise once he saw that his lover was dressed up as him. "Oh… that is indeed.. a very… interesting look." Sekido tried to hold back his laugh when he saw you attempting to cosplay as him. You looked at Sekido and sighed. "Really? Well, I thought this would be a lovely surprise for you." You sounded disappointed when you saw Sekido laughing. Sekido stopped laughing when he noticed that his lover was disappointed with him from earlier.

"H-hey… I'm… just surprised, that's all." Sekido tried hard to hold back his blushing face when he saw you dressed up as him.. You looked at Sekido for a moment and then smiled. "Well, that is a better reaction. I bet you love it!" You chuckled and smirked at Sekido and then leaned towards him. Sekido, the demon of anger tried hard not to blush when his lover smiled and leaned towards him. "Welll… now that I see and… think about it, it… it's quite an interesting surprise." Sekido couldn't help but look at his lover, his eyes were gazing at you with such interest.

"Aww. Look at you. You are blushing." You chuckled and then went closer to Sekido, you then whispered into his ear.

"This costume isn't just a cosplay. It's you wearing my love for you…"

<- PREV

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴏʏᴀʟʟʏ ᴘɪssᴇᴅ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴏғғ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴏɴʏᴍᴏᴜs ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴇᴍᴀɪʟs ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀsᴛ ғɪғᴛᴇᴇɴ ʏᴇᴀʀs. ʜᴏᴡ ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴅɪʙʟʏ ᴘᴇᴛᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ…ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴɪɴɢ. ᴀᴛ ғɪʀsᴛ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɪɢɴᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ʙᴜᴛ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛs ɢᴏᴛ ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴀsɪɴɢʟʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʙᴜᴛ ᴀᴅᴅ ᴏɪʟ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴜʀɴɪɴɢ, ᴘᴀssɪᴏɴᴀᴛᴇ ғʟᴀᴍᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʜᴀᴛʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅs ʏᴏᴜ.

ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜs ᴀɴᴏɴʏᴍᴏᴜs ʜᴀᴛᴇʀ (ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ) ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟʟʏ, ʀᴇᴠᴇᴀʟᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍsᴇʟᴠᴇs ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴠ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ, ᴀɴ ᴏᴠᴇʀʟᴏʀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴇᴏ ᴏғ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴇᴄʜɴᴏʟᴏɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ/ᴛᴀɢs: ғ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴅᴜᴀʟ ᴘᴏᴠ, ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇs ᴛᴏ ғ*ᴄᴋ ʙᴜᴅᴅɪᴇs ᴛᴏ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴᴅᴇsᴄʀɪʙᴀʙʟᴇ, ᴠᴏx ɪs ᴀ ʙʀᴀᴛᴛʏ sᴜʙ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪs ᴀ ᴅᴏᴍ, ᴠᴏx ᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴏғ ʟ's ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏs ɪᴛ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪs sᴇxᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪʙᴇʀᴀʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴғɪᴅᴇɴᴛ, ᴠᴏx ɪs ʙᴀᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ, ᴠᴏx ʜᴀs ᴀ ʜᴜᴍɪʟɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴋɪɴᴋ, sʟᴏᴡ ʙᴜʀɴ, ᴍᴀsᴛᴜʀʙ*ᴛɪᴏɴ (ᴠᴏx)

Pride.  

It had been Vox’s anchor through every storm, the bedrock upon which he rebuilt his empire time and time again. When everything else failed – fame, wealth, power – his pride would always remain. It was his impenetrable shield against defeat; it was his sharpened sword in the face of adversity.  

Pride goes before a fall?  

To that, Vox would laugh in mockery.  

In life, in damnation, where everything else – his mind, his body, even his treacherous heart – crumbled to dust, his pride would endure, unwavering and indomitable. He would sooner die than surrender it.  

Despite Vox’s resolve, he had once again succumbed to his damn weakness, his hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. Memories flooded back, warning him of the same path he was about to tread once again. 

Moments of shameful releases played in a loop.  

Moments where he had sobbed and vowed to never repeat.  

Moments where that fucking old-timey radio prick’s name rested on his tongue while his hand was coated in his sticky release.  

He had promised, sworn, that he would never sacrifice his pride for a fleeting moment of hollow pleasure.  

But today, surrounded by the evidence of his obsession with her, he found himself once more in the mercy of his desire, his resolve crumbling like the ashes of his once glorious empire.  

Vox knelt there in supplication, head bowed, clutching his cock like a goddamn lifeline. He realized with a sinking heart that his pride had been the first casualty in this war. The war he waged against her, against himself, against the very fucking essence of who he thought he was.  

He should just find Val and fuck him senseless, let out all the pent-up frustration in a mindless, carnal release. But as he made up his mind, his eyes drifted back to the picture she had sent him. Her playful little smirk pulled him back as a prisoner of his obsession.  

His hand moved almost to its accord, slowly, gently stroking up and down his strained cock. He hissed in relief, the tension easing slightly with each stroke, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to maintain control.  

Closing his eyes, he felt like a drug-addled addict, convincing himself that just one more hit would be enough. 

“Just one more,” he whispered. “One more stroke, and I’ll fucking stop.” 

With each repetition of the motion, his supposed impenetrable fortress that housed his resolve chipped away. One, two, three breaths – his hand moved once, twice, thrice, and he moaned, the sound torn from his throat as he succumbed to the pleasure. The sensation was overwhelming, consuming him whole.  

“Fuck,” he groaned. “This…feels real fucking good.” 

Vox had a terabyte worth of images and videos of her stored in his internal hard drive. A digital shrine he had created to self-flagellate himself as he reminded himself that he shouldn’t and didn’t want her. 

Every day, he fought the temptation to give in, to fuck himself with his hand while he pulled up images and videos of her — let the very image of her sear into his mind.

But he had resisted.

Always.  

Instead, he channelled his frustration into writing her emails filled with hate and vitriol. Some days, when the want, the desire reached to unbearable heights, he would write to her about how much he despised her, how much he didn’t want her, how much he didn’t think of her.  

It never helped. It never fucking did. But it became a ritual, a futile attempt to reclaim what little dignity remained within him.  

A pathetic whimper escaped him as he forced his hand off his weeping cock, denying himself the release he so desperately craved. The photo slipped from his claws, fluttering to the floor as he pressed both hands against the ground, panting heavily.  

Pride.  

That was all he had left.  

Everything else could be rebuilt from the ashes, but without his pride, he was nothing. He’d be damned if he let another fucking soul strip that away from him.  

Vox glared at the photo; its edges crumpled from his desperate grip. It taunted him with her sweet yet mocking smile. “Fuck you,” he said in vain, knowing she didn’t give two shits of what she was doing to an Overlord – to him.  

It was then that he noticed another small scrap of paper, or rather a business card, among the shredded pieces of the package he must’ve missed. Despite doing nothing today, his body felt like it had just run a marathon. His hand trembled as he grunted, forcing himself to stretch his arm to grab the card.  

Whatever restraint he had completely shattered once he read the words on it. “Fucking, fuck, fuck,” he cursed out loud, his voice a mix of rage and despair. “Damn you, damn you to fucking hell,” his whine blended with a shameful moan as his hand went back to clutching his throbbing cock.  

The business card read: 

Vox couldn’t believe this fucking bitch had made a custom order of her own fucking cunt and sent it to him. God, that fucking whore. He cursed her and praised her depravity in a single breath as his eyes fell back to the fleshlight – her gift to him.  

It was the same colour as her skin.  

God fucking dammit.  

He hated her. He wanted her. His emotions swirled in a chaotic storm, tearing at his sanity. His hand moved on its own, gripping the fleshlight with a desperate intensity. It was soft, warm, and he could almost imagine it was her.  

The tip of his claw traced the lips of the synthetic pussy, and he inserted one finger in. He shuddered as he felt his finger enveloped by the soft, wet, plush walls. He had never used a fleshlight before, believing his hand or Val’s ass was good enough.  

His teeth gnashed together, trying to force the words back, but before he could swallow them down, he blurted out his thoughts. “Fuck you,” he hissed as he inserted a second finger. “You’re thinking quite highly of yourself, huh?” He started to fuck his fingers in and out of the fleshlight, relishing the way the walls seemed to tighten, as if not wanting to let go. 

“You think your cunt is this tight?” Vox let out a dark chuckle, recalling how three years ago, there was a huge scandal where sex tapes of her fucking some no-name guys were released on the net. His fingers withdrew from the fleshlight, dripping with its artificial juices, and he traced the lips of her pussy with the head of his cock.  

The very thought of her, the memory of those tapes, the sight of her in that bikini – all of it drove him to the brink of madness. His breath was ragged, a mix of anger and arousal shrouding his mind.  

He hated her.  

He wanted her.  

She tore him apart.  

When that sex scandal broke out and plastered her face all over every platform on social media, Vox felt a rush of vindictive joy. This bitch, who had been a thorn in his side for so long, was finally going down. Instead of gloating in another email to her, he offered her a deal.  

He wrote to her that day as Anonymous666, every word dripping with cocksure smugness, suggesting that if she begged him and admitted on her next video that VoxTek was the greatest, he would help her make the whole scandal go away. 

That bitch never fucking responded.  

She never responded to any of his emails.  

Instead of trying to take down the sex video and paying a company to manage her reputation, she hired a small independent programming firm to create a fucking app called “OnlySinners.” On that app, users could create accounts to post exclusive photos and videos of themselves. It quickly became popular among influencers, promising exclusive content for their fans. This so-called exclusive content was all sexual in nature.

Honestly, it was much worse than porn in terms of quality and content.

Furthermore, fans had to pay a monthly subscription to view the posts. There were also different tier systems, allowing fans to get different benefits such as a chance to converse with their idol depending on how much they were willing to pay.  

Because of her, the porn sector of his company took a huge hit that year. He managed to convince the shareholders of OnlySinners to sell their stocks to VoxTek, so she and he became co-owners. But before their first OnlySinners company meeting, she offered to sell the rest of her stocks to VoxTek and his assistant purchased it.  

Vox inserted the tip of his cock inside the fleshlight and moaned obscenely. Fuck, this was amazing. 

She was amazing.  

Why couldn’t she have contacted him to create the OnlySinners app? He had the resources, the power, the connections. They could’ve been filthy rich together. He pulled the fleshlight off, teasing himself as he panted loudly.  

Why did she sell the rest of her stocks instead of co-owning the company together? He inserted the tip of his cock again before pulling out, repeating it again and again.  

She was such a fucking tease.  

Vox had hacked her OnlySinners account out of curiosity and nearly choked when he saw she earned a whopping thirteen figures in the first year of launching that app on the income from subscription alone. She only uploaded five fucking thirty-second clips of her getting railed by other VoxTubers, and yet she was able to earn so much.  

What’s worse was that the quality of the videos was shit, and he couldn’t see her tits or ass. All he could hear was her sinful moans and the sound of skin slapping together. 

Yet, Vox paid to be her one and only loyal, “supreme” fan. She made an absurd tier costing $250,000 a month, and he still hasn’t cancelled despite her account clearly being inactive. In fact, the rest of her so-called fans stopped paying a monthly premium due to the lack of content.   

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Vox whispered, his voice breaking from another moan ripping through him as he sank halfway into her tight, dripping cunt. “We could’ve been unstoppable together.” 

Inserting himself deeper into the fleshlight, he imagined her smirking at him, taunting him with those dark, smoky eyes. “Don’t fucking kid yourself,” he thrust harder, his breath hitching with each movement.  

As he fully sheathed the fleshlight on his cock, taking it all the way to the base, Vox groaned, “Oh, fuuuuck.” His voice glitched, and his head tweaked from the overwhelming sensation of her tight, simulated pussy gripping his hardened, dripping cock. If he pulled out, he might come.  

Holy fuck, was he seriously going to come after one fucking full stroke? 

“I always knew you were a one-pump chump,” a voice, a familiar, and taunting voice, echoed in his head. “You should be thanking me for giving you this.” She giggled, and Vox’s vision momentarily blacked out as images of that damn woman flashed before his eyes. 

“How dare you drop my photo on your filthy floor? Don’t you know you hold the only copy of that photo in existence?” She whispered, her voice caressing and electrifying every nerve, every circuit that made him who he was.  

As his vision returned to the small, dimly lit room, surrounded by her sex toys, filled with the scent of his arousal, he quickly reached for the photo she had sent. He could still hear her voice in the back of his mind. “You should feel special,” she whispered, a seductive undertone drenching her words.  

Vox’s hand gripped the fleshlight tighter, his claws digging into the sides, and he felt his cock hardening even more under his touch and the sensation of her simulated cunt. He dragged his cock out of the plush, wet pocket, his breath heavy as he fought to control himself, trying not to spill his seed inside it. He wanted this to last. He wanted this moment to last, to drown in this euphoria, to lose himself in this sensation of pleasure.  

He wanted to muffle the scream of shame that threatened to short-circuit him.  

Holding the fleshlight just above the tip of his cock, he thrust his hips upward, entering her once more. He held the photo up, forcing his head to look up – to look up at her. He slowly fucked the toy, pretending she was on top of him, imagining taking her slowly, letting her feel every inch of him.  

“D-does it feel good?” Vox asked her. Of course, the photo of her remained still, her lips – her smirk – unmoving. A familiar feeling of his chest being flayed open coursed through him.  

In the quiet space, where it was only him, away from the paparazzi, away from the need to maintain a perfect image for society, he was back in the body of an upstart entrepreneur – a body of a scrappy nobody.  

Vox was back to being the man who had groveled and begged the investors to take a chance on him. To believe in him. He had withstood the mockery and the laughter as he swallowed his pride again and again.  

“Can I…” he gasped, as his hips started to pump in and out quicker and quicker, the lewd sound of his cock thrusting into the lubricated toy squelched and filled the air. “Can I…come?” he groaned, his head falling forward, his ass up in the air before he thrust mindlessly into the toy with reckless abandon.  

The pleasure built with each thrust, a fevered pitch that ate away his mind. He clung to the photo; it kept him tethered to the fantasy of an alternate reality where he had her – where she wanted him.  

“Please,” he whimpered, his voice breaking, a plea to the silent room. “Please let me come.” 

Vox’s pace became frantic, his strokes wild and uncontrolled. The tight, wet embrace of the fleshlight, the image of her teasing smile, the imagined feel of her beneath him – “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna fuckin’…” his words were lost to the sound of his filthy moans and the wet slaps of his hips against the toy.  

His vision blanked with a final, desperate thrust as he released everything he had within him. “Ah, fuuuuck,” he groaned as he slowed his pace, rocking his hips against the toy, wringing his cock dry.  

Once Vox controlled his heavy breath, he slowly collapsed to the floor and rolled onto his back. He stared down at his limp cock, wearing the fleshlight like a sleeve. As the high faded, and the evidence of his broken restraint leaked out from the toy and drenched the front placket of his pants, the all-too familiar sensation of shame settled on his chest.  

His chest rose and fell with the aftermath of his exertion, his breath still heavy and laboured. As if he had woken up from a fever dream, he looked around the room. The shelves were lined with her toys, each one a reminder of his obsession and the depth of his humiliation. The business card, the photo, her message, the custom fleshlight – all of it ridiculed him.  

Vox pressed his palms against his eyes. The cold floor seeped into his sweat-soaked back; he felt the weight of his insignificance. For all his power and wealth, he still saw himself as his scrappy, pathetic self, groveling to other men that were born into a higher status.  

He enjoyed sex for what it was. It brought him a moment of pleasure. But the price was always too fucking high to pay, for at this moment when his mind retained clarity, his heart was out in the open once more.  

Once again, he was back in the void, a cavernous cold space where a sense of emptiness gnawed his very soul.  

Once again, he felt a pain in his chest that he could never seem to fucking name.  

Once again, he had sacrificed his pride for a fleeting moment of hollow pleasure. 

NEXT ->

They’re so normal

A commission made by the ever amazing @katelynntheg, this time of Yuuno Scrya and Materiel-S/Stern.

One of a kind

Pairing: Kokushibo x Reincarnated Fem!Y/n

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When he was still human he had found life boring and stale, and that was no secret at all. Time passed far slower and painfully dull. But when he married it was as if the gods had finally enlightened him. His wife was one out of many and in those many years he has never forgotten you. How the moons passed and every time he got slight glimpses of it he remembered how no greater glow lived in this world since you had passed. 

But Gods always were cruel. Had he come back to you any time when you still graced the earth with your soul then he would have asked if you would have joined him too. However the one time he had found your old home. You had been slaughtered. At the fellow hands of his brethren. 

Your kids are nowhere in sight. It eased his mind but a bit. However for many nights he had stayed next to your decomposing corpse. His hunger subsided as he held you. Cradling you as he had done nights where your pregnant belly was too much to bare. 

He would much rather live in a world where you rested peacefully than forever tied down to a world that forced you to kill. 

After almost nothing remained he had buried you. Finally at ease and with it you took his heart. His heart no longer had that burning passion it had before. It emptied and the glass was half full. When he had killed his brother it felt as if all of it was finally gone. 

He was just  upper moon one. And that is all he would be. Vague memories lived on in the depths of his mind, stashed away was the flute he made for his dearest brother and next to it a hairpin that he had bestowed on you before your wedding. His two most prized objects. 

And they were laying out far from his reach. How did he get here? How on earth did it end this way? 

Tonight he knew he would have encountered a slayer. He knew that but he needn’t frighten himself. No greater power known to man could make him fear. 

But those same eyes that had watched him with nothing but adoration and then hatred when he had abandoned them. Now haunted his very core. The gods are cruel and they tortured him since he could remember. 

He didn’t care for slayers. Didn’t care enough, just ended their lives and that was all that they got from him. 

However those eyes that had once stared at him were here once again. A different kind of hatred now stared back at him. One of disgust. Perhaps even fear too. Somehow, Someway your figure stood before him. 

Your hands how calloused over as it held onto the handle of your blade, Those eyes piercing right through his very core.The once elegance you had the poise it all vanished as he stood as your enemy. 

It was then he realized he would rather prefer you be his enemy than have to kill you and have to live in a world where you didn’t exist at all. 

He knew he was crazy, mad perhaps and he wondered did you remember too. 

“..what is your… Name?” He asked speaking after so long of not sparing his breath. 

Your eyes widened a little. The hold on your blade never loosening but the pattern of your heart elevated. 

“I’m Y/n.” You speak with the voice he has never forgotten

Oh how awful of a crude joke this was. Standing as enemies when years ago you stood together as each other’s 

Yes. There was obvious differences in you of the past and you of the now. But beneath all that you were still the same. He wanted to say his sorrys for abandoning you, abandoning his family. Wanted to say some apology and in hopes that somehow you remembered it all. 

If he were any less than sane he’d probably turn you into a demon be at his side as you always should have been. But those eyes never held any recollection.

Did you cry when he left? How hard did you cry? Did you really hate him or want him back? Did you suffer when you died? Did you know where his children were? Did you go down protecting them? Or did you have a quick death?

“Do you…remember who i am?” He asked hand now resting on his own handle.

“I’ve never met anyone like you before” 

He knew that was going to happen. He did. And it didn't make it hurt any less than it does.

“You are the upper moon one. And I may not be able to kill you. But i'd rather go down trying than never knowing i had a chance” 

Fights always bored him. They always ended far sooner than he would have hoped. But this was taking too long. He knew why. His own hesitance withheld him and he didn't know why.

Why did he not want to kill you? Why on earth were you the only thing that kept him the least bit happy when nothing ever seemed too. What was so special about you in the first place? 

For the first time ever he felt a shiver run up his spine and for the first time ever he let a slayer live.