#yandere obey me smut

[cvlutos]

✦ BARBATOS [OBEY ME] | CONCERNS FOR THE FUTURE | YANDERE [TW: STALKING, IMPLIED VIOLENCE, NSFW]

There's something so romantic about watching you sleep.

Something so intimate about standing beside your bed while you're away, fixing the tousled covers and sheets, folding them and straight to utter perfection, ignoring the ache—the utter desire to give into my very devilish temptations. To bury my nose into your scent and leave behind the faintest scent of my smell and taste. Dining on the pure imagery of you laying down, tired and desperate for rest to smell me, your fingers gazing over the faintest stain of my... secretions.

My gloved hands drag over the spot in which you lay, hovering over the form of your sleeping body, unaware of eyes that so hungrily watch you. My eyes. Yet, there is no ounce within my being that feels this is wrong. Not a portion of my tainted soul that feels guilt for what I do. Because guilt for watching you, guilt for sliding open your lips and dragging my tongue along yours, doesn't exist. And never will.

As I gently caressing your soft flesh, knees resting against the mattress, as I place a chaste kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment before ultimately pulling away. Thinking over simply how much love I hold for you. Though the line between love and simple obsession—possession is a fine line that I walk dutifully.

I was at one moment certain, sure in myself that I would never love—never love a mortal, a human, so weak and frail, yet I find your weakness, shall I say endearing? Watching you fumble and struggle to adapt into a world that will never fully be yours. I enjoy it. Watching you so blatantly need me, I mean, how else could you possibly do anything alone? You couldn't. Which is what I love, that I can't help but for a moment, pity you...

But not enough to stop. Nor enough to truly help you in a way that's productive for me, at least.

Soon, I'll have to clip those pesky wings of yours, break that never ending prideful hope—desire to impress and prove useful to others. Yet those are worries for another day, for now, I'll merely watch you sleep.

[exchangestudentnova]

Anon asks/requests

Yandere! Brothers (Vampire AU)

Yandere! King Lucifer (Fantasy AU)

Yandere! King Lucifer pt 2 (Fantasy AU)

Vampire Lucifer and MC with Haemophilia

[a-nuisance-called-sam]

Warning: smut, oral sex, pussy eating/cunnilingus, fingering, non con/rape, yandere, somnophilia, bondage, biting, character x reader, forced orgasm, reader has pussy, neither character nor their gender is specified.

Character x reader

Waking up from your sleep you are met with a silhouette of a person between your legs and your hands tied above your head. Their arms gripping onto both your thighs while their head buried between them, busy making out with your pussy, sucking and licking on it like their life depends on it. A scared and strangled cry leaves you at the sight of what's happening, causing the person to stop and look up at you; mischief and lust dancing on their face. Keeping eye contact, they slowly bite the insides of your thigh, sucking on it gently. Panicked, you wiggle and try to move away from them, only for them to pull you back in and hold you down in place. Going back to gliding their tongue on your clit ever so slow and gently, teasing you all the while staring into your fearful eyes, like a predator with its prey. Closing their eyes they shift their focus back to your pussy. Moving their face a little lower, their tongue starts to play with your hole, the wet muscle lapping at your essence and slithering it's way into your tight little hole. They remove one hand from your thigh and bring them to play with your clit again. Lightly pinching and rubbing at it, making you breathe heavily. You didn't wanna give into the pleasure that you were receiving against your will but your body wasn't agreeing with that. Soon at every swipe of their tongue and finger over your clit and clenching hole, a moan of pleasure would escape you. No matter how much you wanted to control them, they just came out louder. The person switched the placement of their tongue with their hands and vice versa. Now their tongue was sucking and licking over your clit once again but only this time with more force. While the hand took care of your clenching hole. With how wet you already were, they easily slipped two fingers in and started fucking your hole. You bite your lips to stop the moans but it turned out to be futile as the person worked wonders with their tongue and fingers. But just listening to you moan was not enough for them; they wanted to hear you scream in pleasure and come undone in their mouth. So with that goal set in mind, they added another finger to your hole and started to fuck you hard on their fingers. Driving them knuckle deep into you and slightly curly them upwards to hit your spot. "Be good and cum for me darling." They tell you as their tongue and fingers work to give you the world shattering orgasm of your life. Your vision goes black as you arch your back during the orgasm. The person between your legs drinks up all that you give with great joy. Your essence drips down from their chin as they raise their head and finally let go of your legs. Your eyelids grow heavier by the second due to exhaustion but right before you pass out, you hear them say something; something that makes your blood run cold.

"You're forever mine now. "

[moonstrumpet]

“My love for you transcends time” ~Barbatos, The Nighbringer..

UGHH IVE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR SO LONG.. i’ve been coloring it and coloring it over and over so i gave up and decided to post it.

[yanderemommabean]

The demon brothers tying reader down and exploring them. Opening you up and gazing into your most intimate areas while crooning and purring about how cute you are when humiliated and embarrassed.

Forced to cum again and again while they use toys, overstimulating you and making you cry from the forced pleasure and too much too fast. You’re dizzy and weak and begging for a break but they just laugh and tell you they aren’t done with you yet.

Once you’re pliant and too weak to even tug at the rope holding you, they take their turns spearing you on their cocks and making you mewl and whimper for them, while they each remind you how you’re never going to leave them and how you’re always going to belong to them.

-Mommabean

[cruel-seduction]

Hi, i don't care what character it is but can you write about an ex husband who's yearning for his ex? 😖 I love me my depressed and sexually frustrated men who want nothing but to look and get a whiff of your scent! Thank you

(Sorry it took so long, but this one was tough writing cause I didn't knew what to write)

Content Warning:

Explicit Sexual Content

Obsessive Longing and Yearning

Sexual Fantasy and Desperation

Mild Voyeuristic Elements (involving found personal items)

Lingering Traces

He stepped into the empty apartment, the echoes of their past lingering in the air like a haunting melody. Every corner was a reminder of what they once shared, and as he moved through the familiar space, the memories clung to him like a shadow. He tried to focus on the task at hand—collecting the few belongings he had left behind—but his mind drifted back to you.

The scent of your perfume still lingered, a blend of floral sweetness that wrapped around him like a comforting blanket. He could almost see you in the sunlight that streamed through the window, your laughter dancing through the air as you painted the walls with your vibrant spirit.

As he made his way to the bathroom, he opened the laundry basket, hoping to find a towel. Instead, something caught his eye. Buried beneath a pile of clothes was a small, delicate piece of lace. His heart raced as he pulled it out—your panties, soft and inviting, the fabric sheer and barely there.

He held them up, the sight of them sending a rush of heat through him. The familiar scent enveloped him, a mix of your body wash and something uniquely you, intoxicating and deeply familiar. It struck him like a bolt of lightning, flooding his mind with memories he had tried so hard to forget.

He was frozen in place, his heart pounding as he inhaled deeply, letting the scent wash over him. It was intoxicating, and before he realized it, he was sinking back against the wall, the fabric gripped tightly in his hand. The ache in his groin was undeniable, a throbbing need that demanded attention. He could feel himself growing hard, a desperate throb that begged for relief.

His mind raced with memories of you—how you’d look at him, those sultry glances that made his heart race. He could almost hear your soft laughter, the way you’d bite your lip when you were feeling playful. The image of you pressed against him, your body warm and inviting, flooded his thoughts, igniting a fire within him.

With a shaky breath, he slipped his free hand under his waistband, fingers brushing against his hardness. A low groan escaped his lips as he began to stroke himself slowly, each movement deliberate as he imagined you there with him. The feeling of your skin against his, the warmth of your breath, it all consumed him.

“God, I miss you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. As he pumped his hand up and down, he imagined you teasing him, the way you’d push your hips into him, urging him on. He could see you clearly in his mind, lying on the bed with that cheeky smile, wearing nothing but these very panties.

He tightened his grip, gasping as he lost himself in the fantasy. “What I would give to feel you again,” he whispered, his strokes growing faster, the tension building deep within him. Each glide of his hand was a reminder of how you used to drive him wild, your body writhing beneath him, begging for more.

His thoughts spiraled further into the fantasy, imagining your hands roaming over his body, your lips trailing down his neck. He could almost feel the heat of your breath as you whispered sweet nothings, urging him to take control, to claim you like he used to. The idea sent a shiver down his spine, and he quickened his pace, the need for release surging within him.

“I want you so badly,” he groaned, imagining how it would feel to push you down, to bury himself deep inside you, feeling you wrapped around him completely. The thought alone pushed him closer to the edge, the pressure building as he recalled the way your body would arch against him, the way you’d moan his name, desperate for more.

“Just one more time,” he gasped, lost in the haze of longing and lust. With every stroke, he envisioned you beneath him, those delicate lace panties pushed aside, your warmth welcoming him home. He could almost hear your soft whimpers, could almost feel the way you’d clench around him, pulling him in deeper.

As the pleasure surged, he lost himself in the fantasy, his breath quickening as he neared the edge. “I need you,” he cried out, his voice raw with desperation. With one final, powerful stroke, he came undone, his release spilling forth as he imagined you there with him, your scent flooding his senses, leaving him breathless and aching for more.

He collapsed against the wall, panting as the reality of the moment settled in. The weight of the fabric lingered in his hand, a bittersweet reminder of what he had lost and the longing that would haunt him for as long as he lived.

[daveena-ambrosius]

Mafia Boss Diavolo 😏

[zorosdimples]

pairing ⛧ yandere!diavolo x f!reader x barbatos

warnings ⛧ minors: please do not interact! i will block you. this is a doozy… implied toxic relationships, inhuman anatomy, monsterfucking, breeding, knotting, cervix fucking, dubious consent, pregnancy mention, lots and lots of cum, passing out, neglect (kind of), bondage and restraints, implied nonconsensual acts at the end. reader has a vagina and is referred to as “my little human” and “little one.” please let me know if there is anything i missed!

word count ⛧ 1129

notes ⛧ this is the first installment of the garden of earthly delights! i apologize for the wait; i hope everyone enjoys <3

you have never looked more beautiful—more his—than in this moment, diavolo thinks. the demon prince has one massive hand encircling your ankles, pressing your knees flush to your chest. his other hand cradles the back of your head with adoration, forcing your teary gaze to remain on him, a clawed thumb hooked between your swollen lips. his amber irises are nearly subsumed by his pupils, jet as the moonless night.

black spots cloud your watery vision as you slobber all over the digit, broken whines the only sound to leave your lips; the golden tips of his horns flash in your periphery. you’re on the verge of losing consciousness.

diavolo has been breeding you for hours. his long, thick cock—gilt, ribbed, impossibly large, and complete with a knot—has already stuffed you so full of seed that your stomach is distended. the viscous liquid, a rich cream with an otherworldly sheen, spurts out of your abused cunt with each of his powerful thrusts. the rest of it tingles hotly in your core.

“you can take one more, can’t you, my little human?” diavolo coos, breath unnervingly steady given the force of his movements. he leans down to smear a gentle kiss against your damp hairline before dropping your head and sliding his hand down to rub your puffy clit, plenty slick with the fluids coating your flesh.

“c-can’t,” you whimper. your nerves are fried and the overstimulation has your head pounding and your legs shaking as diavolo’s cock batters your cervix. your hands scratch and scrape at his chest in an attempt to get him to slow, to stop—anything—but your nails do not even pierce the prince’s thick flesh. the demon chuckles at your pathetic protests and his pace quickens in response.

hasn’t he taught you that you are not as fragile as you think?

“you can,” diavolo asserts, pulling out entirely. his crimson strands hang past his forehead and obscure his eyes, the glistering gold almost menacing as he leans over you. he strokes himself lazily, grazing his flared knot with a shiver, ready for his high. ready to see your womb swell with his heir.

“and you will,” he punctuates by plunging his cock and knot inside you in one fluid motion, a guttural groan rumbling from his heaving chest. your mouth stretches to accommodate a scream that never passes your lips. your body is aflame, dripping with sweat; the room fades into nothingness as diavolo’s hot cum pumps into your pulsing cunt.

the room is dusky when you awaken. your lover is gone, his warmth and ever-present touch absent, stillness in his place. the slippery silk sheets cling to you and glide along your curves as you sit upright. you clutch your forehead and curse the dull thump in your skull, a wince breaking the quiet. you feel a trickle of sticky cum ooze from you to join the wet puddle you slept atop like an animal.

the demon prince’s little pet.

a rustling sound draws you from your thoughts. a looming figure swathed in shadow floats toward the bed; you squeak in fright as you yank the sheets up to your neck in an attempt to shield your nude form.

“there you are,” barbatos, who you can now see as he emerges from the darkness, says. “i apologize for disturbing you. i am here on behalf of the young master.”

you breathe a shaky sigh of relief—the demon butler is your only friend in the lonely castle. “you scared me, barbatos. where’s diavolo?”

barbatos turns on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in a faint glow. his eyes, emerald in the low light, shine eerily as his gaze meets yours. “the young master had to run to an impromptu meeting, but he did not wish to disturb your rest. thus, i am here to aid you in his stead.”

you furrow your brows. a meeting. you were once a member of the student council, privy to conferences and other social functions—until diavolo’s devotion to you got the better of him. (as a human, you are far safer being completely removed from lesser demons. and there is no one better to care for you than the prince of the devildom himself.)

you suppress your memories. “thank you. i can manage myself.”

instead of bowing and leaving, though, barbatos stands still. his forked tail sways at his feet and his skeletal horns gleam resolutely. after a few moments of deathly silence, you rephrase your dismissal: “i don’t need any help, barbatos. i appreciate you checking on me.”

the demon takes a step closer to the bed, his knees nearly knocking against the frame. “you do not seem to understand me,” barbatos muses, gloved hand delicately resting beneath his chin. if you were less disoriented, you would notice the hint of mirth in his tone. “lord diavolo ordered me to assist you, as he had to leave unexpectedly. i shall honor his wishes.”

the corners of the butler’s lips curl into a faint smirk, but no humor marks his visage. in fact, there seems to be a primal hunger lurking in the dark, verdant depths of barbatos’s irises. fear beams through your body. it starts in the pit of your stomach and spreads its icy tendrils out through your limbs, biting your fingertips. headache forgotten, you now feel faint; your heart skitters like scared prey. unconsciously, you pull the sheets around you tightly, temporarily shielding yourself from the humiliation that is sure to come.

“there is nothing to fear, little one,” barbatos soothes, smoothing a hand over your hair, matted with sweat and his master’s cum. the act is more patronizing than it is comforting.

the demon snaps his fingers and the sheets wrapped around you disappear. you scramble to cover yourself with your hands, but barbatos is infinitely stronger and faster than you are. his forked tail—cold and wet—coils around your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed. another snap of his fingers, and your body is bound with invisible restraints. your arms are stretched above your head, almost painfully so. your legs are spread wide and bent at the knee; no matter how hard you try, you can’t move. there’s even a gag in your mouth to muffle your cries and force you to suck oxygen through your nose.

crouching between your open legs, the butler tsks. “oh my, what a mess.” his tail slithers up your leg and settles atop your womb. the slightest pressure from the appendage causes a stream of diavolo’s cum to rush out of your bruised hole. the demon’s snakelike tongue darts out and tastes the semen that is now pooled beneath your ass.

bartabos’s eyes meet yours and he smiles something wicked. “let’s get you cleaned up—shall we?”

[exchangestudentnova]

OBEY ME! SERIES

Happy Birthday MC!!! (inspired by the character's interaction in the original game and nightbringer on your birthday)

[another-lost-mc]

Imagine Vampire Lord!Diavolo receiving a sacrificial human as a gift. He's delighted but pretends to act horrified and sympathetic to the poor little thing's plight. Blood tastes horrible if the human is terrified. So, for months he lulls them into a false sense of security. Lavishing them with care, gentlemanly behaviour, and isolation for their safety of course!

Let the human delude themself into thinking they had a choice. Vampire Lord!Diavolo mouth waters at the thought of their favourite pet voluntarily offering their blood to him. By then, the trap has long snapped shut. Pleaseee we need more gilded cage, manipulative Diavolo because the potential is limitless!!

A/N: I might've gotten a little carried away with this one.

Vampire!DIAVOLO x gn!Reader, 2.3k words, nsfw, dark themes/content.

Content warnings: canon-typical vampire behaviour including biting/blood drinking, predator/prey dynamics, kidnapping, coercion, manipulation, implied isolation/imprisonment, minor violence, pet names, some sexual content.

more from the vampire!au

Vampire Prince!Diavolo who hosts monthly gatherings for the other vampire nobles. The abducted humans, like sweet sacrificial lambs, are brought to the castle for the vampire lords to prey on. It’s an archaic practice, but tradition is important to his people.

Vampire Prince!Diavolo who doesn’t usually participate in these events himself—Barbatos ensures that all the humans he needs for consumption are delivered to the castle dungeons regularly—but he catches a whiff of an unusual scent in the air.

Vampire Prince!Diavolo who finds you huddled at the edge of the room while several nobles leer at you, taunting you as they delight in your torment. Underneath the acrid scent of fear pouring off you in waves, he detects the hint of something scrumptious. It makes his mouth water and he’s overcome with the temptation to claim you for himself.

(He’ll need to do something about the bitterness currently tainting the blood in your veins if he wants to enjoy you properly.)

Vampire Prince!Diavolo who murmurs instructions to Barbatos and slips away from the party. He sits on his throne in the empty council chamber and waits.

Barbatos finishes his tasks and returns to the prince's side quickly. “Everything is as you requested, my lord.”

“And our guest?”

“Frightened but unharmed. It won’t be long.”

There’s a scuffle outside the door and then a loud, pounding knock. Two guards push the doors open and escort you inside. One of them shoves you forward and you stumble to your knees before the prince.

“Enough,” Diavolo orders as he rises from his throne. You try to crawl away from him, but you're paralyzed by fear. His impressive frame towers over you, and there’s an angry glint in his eyes when he snarls at the guards who skitter away with hasty apologies to their lord.

His face softens as he kneels down on one knee before you, hands held out in front of him as if to show you he means no harm. He’s careful not to touch you; you’re still trembling like a pitiful little mouse.

He almost feels guilty that you ended up here—a tasty morsel for beasts much stronger than you—but then he wouldn't have this chance to have you for himself, would he?

“You must be cold,” he says apologetically. The thin material of the simple robe you were given to wear—similar to the other human guests—leaves little to the imagination. Diavolo unclasps his cloak and drapes it over your shoulders.

You stare at him dumbstruck; you’re too scared to move, too scared to breathe.

He leans forward and scents the air discreetly. The foul stench of fear is stronger now, but so is the undercurrent of your natural scent. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from licking his lips.

Vampire Prince!Diavolo who promises that no harm shall come to you, so long as you are respectful and follow the rules you are given. He insists that you’ll be given a spacious room of your own near the finest library in the castle.

(You don’t need to know that it’s his own private library in the royal quarters where only you and he reside.) 

Vampire Prince!Diavolo, who asks you to call him by his name, escorts you personally to your new room. He had Barbatos prepare this for you once he decided you would be his.

Vampire Prince!Diavolo who hopes you’ll appreciate the luxuries he’s giving you: a large bed with the finest silk sheets, a private bathroom, a writing desk and record player. There’s an empty walk-in closet that the prince intends on filling with tailored clothes to accentuate your lovely features, in all the colours he thinks will best compliment your eyes and complexion.

(You’ll be beautiful for his eyes alone.)

Vampire Prince!Diavolo who spends as much time with you as he can. He wants you to get used to his presence in the hopes that one day you'll crave his company instead of simply tolerating it. He makes time in his schedule so he can join you for each meal Barbatos brings to your room.

Your hand shakes nervously and the cutlery scrapes unpleasantly against the china plate. Diavolo pretends not to notice as he takes a sip from the chalice of blood he’s brought with him in lieu of eating food.

“If there are any particular foods you enjoy, please let me know. I’ll see to it that Barbatos prepares your meals especially suited to your tastes,” he says as he lowers his glass, licking a stray drop of blood from his lip.

You glance nervously at the glass in his hands and back up to his eyes, and you sit up in your chair like you're trying to muster enough courage to speak your mind.

(My brave little mouse, he thinks as he tries not to grin with amusement.)

“You’re not…you’re not going to kill me?” You guessed your true purpose for being here. Memories slowly returned to you of the night you were abducted, how a stranger’s whisper in your mind commanded you to sleep. You woke up here, surrounded by other scared humans like yourself and thrown into a crowd of vampires of all things.

You were certain you were going to die when you were nearly dragged from that ballroom by those brutish guards. You have no idea what a vampire prince could possibly want from you, except to kill you himself after he bleeds you dry.

Diavolo chuckles and shakes his head. His eyes glitter brightly with amusement, and he smiles when he raises the glass to his lips again for another sip. “If I wanted your blood, don’t you think you’d be dead by now?”

Dead like the rest of the humans you were brought here with hangs unspoken in the air between you.

You finish eating in silence as you contemplate his words. Barbatos clears the dishes away when you're done and leaves you alone with the vampire prince who seems determined to be your friend.

Diavolo stands from the table. “It’s a lovely evening, and the night-blooming roses in my private garden are exquisite. Would you like to join me?”

He holds his hand out to you; you hesitate for a moment before resting your hand in his. You see the tips of his fangs when he smiles.

You make very few requests at first, but as days turn into weeks, you grow comfortable in the new home he has made for you. You abide by his one very simple request: not to venture outside this wing of the castle.

(“For your own protection,” Diavolo told you in those early days.)

Your days are lonely but comfortable, passing by in a blur of endless books from the impressive library not far from your room, and the growing collection of new music for your record player.

Sometimes you wake up in the mornings and things are not quite how you left them the night before. You assume it’s the work of Barbatos, the only other vampire you’ve met since that first night. He tidies your room discreetly when you're in the library so he doesn't disturb you. He also passes his master’s greetings and well wishes to you each morning when he brings you breakfast.

“Do you clean my room at night when I’m asleep?” you ask him one morning before he leaves. “I feel terrible if that’s the case—you don’t need to do that.” You want to tell him it's creepy and invasive, but you find the vampire prince's butler even more intimidating than the prince himself.

Barbatos glances at you as he tidies your breakfast dishes on a tray, and he almost looks annoyed and surprised by your question. He huffs out a quiet sigh of exasperation. “It seems that my lord wants to ensure your comfort and safety, even in the darkest hours of the night."

Vampire Prince!Diavolo who dotes on you lavishly, who ensures everything you could ever want or hope for, is yours.

Vampire Prince!Diavolo who realizes that genuine feelings of affection have begun to bloom for you deep within the chasm of his hollow heart. He enjoys your quiet laughter when he tells you amusing stories about his fellow nobles, and he misses your thoughtful advice when he’s too busy with official duties to visit you.

The first time he has to leave the castle for an overnight excursion, he’s fraught with anxiety about leaving you behind.

He can’t bring you with him, either. It’s too risky—he doesn’t want any of the other lords near you. Your once-foul stench has dissipated over time, and the nectar flowing in your veins is starting to bloom like the aroma of the finest wine.

He comes to your room to say goodbye, but when he backs away towards the door to leave, you lift your hand like you want to stop him. The truth shines in your eyes when they mist over with too many emotions to name, and you choke out a stuttered farewell of your own.

(You’re scared of being alone for the first time since you were brought to this strange, dark place. You have no one else but him, and he knows it.)

He leaves the castle with a hint of a smile on his face, satisfied with the revelation that you are going to miss him too.

Vampire Prince!Diavolo who returns to you after only a few days apart, and you nearly fly across the room into his arms when he greets you warmly. He doesn’t disguise his longing for you, or his happiness to be with you again. (Have you always been this lovely?) He holds your hands in his as he inquires about your well-being. He sits next to you and answers your questions about his trip as Barbatos brings you tea.

Vampire Prince!Diavolo who scents the air while he visits with you. Your fear and sorrow has all but disappeared, leaving nothing but the fragrance of your delicious scent. It’s even better than he hoped for. He’s been so patient and waited so long for this moment.

Vampire Prince!Diavolo who reaches for your hand and strokes your wrist with his fingers as he leans closer to you. Your eyes darken with anticipation and your breath hitches, and his eyes dart down as you lick your lips nervously. He’s hungry for your blood, but he’s starving for the rest of what you can offer him—your body, your companionship, your unwavering devotion, your love. 

Vampire Prince!Diavolo who decides with absolute certainty to keep you by his side, the little mouse he shields from a world of monsters. Tomorrow will be a new beginning for both of us, he promises with a soft kiss against the back of your hand. His eyes linger on your neck when he pulls away, and you tilt your head slightly in submission.

Vampire Prince!Diavolo who wakes up in the middle of the night when he hears you shout his name. He rushes down the hall and into your room, and he sees someone standing near your bed. He grabs the disguised intruder by the throat and pins him against the wall, fangs bared menacingly for daring to touch you. When Barbatos arrives, he offers to take care of the intruder so Diavolo can take care of you. 

Vampire Prince!Diavolo who picks you up despite your protests and carries you to his room. He tucks your head against his shoulder while he murmurs soothingly in your ear. He knows you’re not afraid, not anymore. In place of fear, all he can smell is your gorgeous aroma, laced with gratitude and love because he came when you needed him most.

(The intruder tried to convince you he was saving you from the wretched prince, but you don't want to be saved—not anymore.)

Vampire Prince!Diavolo who lays you on his bed and holds you close, but your hands fidget nervously against his bare chest. Your eyes are blown black with lust and he can’t resist kissing you, not when your lips are so close to his.

(His little mouse looks even better trembling with desire rather than fear.)

Vampire Prince!Diavolo who covers your body with his own, and he sinks his cock inside you when he finally pierces your neck with his fangs. You clench your fingers in his back and his hair like you’re afraid he might leave you.

(He’ll never leave you, and he’ll never let you go.)

Barbatos sniffs as Diavolo walks past him into his study. His nose wrinkles at the overpowering scent of sweat and arousal and copper that clings to the prince. “I take it that things went well?”

Diavolo hums as he sits down heavily in his seat. “My little mouse is resting, but let’s make this quick.” He’s whet his appetite for your blood on his tongue and your body clenched around him, and he’s nearly overcome with how badly he wants more of you.

Barbatos leaves his office and returns a few minutes later with one of the vampire lords. “Lord Mephistopheles as you requested, my lord.”

Diavolo gestures towards the empty chair in front of his desk. “Sit down, Mephisto.” He leans back in his chair. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly, but it had to look convincing.”

(You'll never know the deadly consequence that awaited you if you failed Diavolo's final test of loyalty.)

Mephisto sits up stiffly in his chair. “Of course, I am but your humble servant, my lord. But if I may speak freely, your intended mate put up a more of a fight than I imagined.” He holds up one of his gloved hands gingerly. “I didn’t expect to be bitten by a human tonight.”

Diavolo subconsciously rubs over the slight indents of your teeth in his shoulder; you bit him to muffle your scream when you came on his cock. “Neither did I,” he murmurs, fangs bared when his lips curl into a wicked smile.

Obey Me! Masterlist

[neuvilletteswife4ever]

Hii! First time on youe page!Requests? Bet. A performance was demanded of me...And now I have delivered...ENCORE(I miss my fnaf phase ok?😭)

Well, here is the request. Yandere fatui harbingers with a darling who is on a hunger strike(bacically refuses to eat unless freed).

Ty 4 reading my request.

YANDERE FATUI HARBINGERS X A DARLING WHO REFUSES TO EAT

Warnings:

Kidnapping, no consent, killing, unhealthy obsession, torture, force-feed, needles

"Eat! Eat it!!" Scaramouche yelled at you annoyed while trying to force a spoon into your mouth. You refused. You wouldn't eat until they freed you from this miserable place. You didn't care if you starved. But you knew that they wouldnt let you starve because of their lovesick obessions. No way that you would starve on their watch.

"Eat it." Dottore said coldly, his voice making shivers run down your spine. The other fatui harbingers agreed as they stared into your soul. Gosh...you were sick of those lovesick smiles.

"I'm not hungry..." You said turning your head away and crossing your arms.

"Now now, come on dear, don't be like that now." Tartaglia stared at you, his eyes filled with lust and obsession. Pantalone agreed.

"Right, and then who would i spoil with gifts if you died from starvation?" He said, his smile wide as he enjoyed your scent, your beauty, everything about you.

"N-no. Not happening, I refuse..." It was obvious you were hungry, but you couldn't break your promise to not eat until they released you. All that starvation for what? To end your promise now? You wouldn't give up that easily. That's not you. You know better than that.

Everyone sighs deeply, as they glared at you.

"I'll only eat (a tiny amount) if you remove this chain from my ankle.." You managed to mutter out.

*The Fatui Harbingers eyes widened. The thought having you roam around free without them constantly gushing over you was ridiculous. It was obvious that you'd attempt to escape if they did remove the chain.*

"My dear, my dear. You leave us no choice." Arlecchino simply says, her eyes darkening as the others suddenly looked even more obsessive than they already were. You wondered what she meant by "you leave us no choice".

The Fatui Harbingers kiss you (without your consent) and leave the room. They make sure to have atleast 500 fatui agents outside of your room to prevent you from escaping. Even if you had a chain on. But they couldn't take the risk. Especially after your previous attempts.

1 Hour Later

The doors to your room opened and there they were. With fatui agents (the fatui agents were blindfolded because the fatui harbingers didn't want anyone to simply look at you, even the slightest.) carrying 50 dead corpses to your room. The corpses looked familiar...wait! Those were the corpses of your relatives and friends!!

"Now, let's make a deal my love. If you don't eat, we will kill anyone that's dear to you." Capitano smiles obsessively behind his mask.

You saw your mom and dad brutally tortured to death based of the injuries. You began bawling your eyes out as you felt a sharp pain in your back. It was Dottore. He injected a sharp needle that would make you faint and be unconscious for some hours. They forced your unconscious body to eat.

When you woke up you saw Columbina patting your head gently in bed as the other fatui harbingers watched you sleep. Their eyes never leaving. It made you really uncomfortable.

"Isn't it just better to obey us, love?"

(Im sorry if these are cringe and weird. Im still learning how to write proper yandere stories.)

[cruel-seduction]

Pathetic and Pleasured

Content Warning: This story contains explicit sexual content intended for mature audiences only. It includes degrading language and humiliation, power dynamics with the customer in control, masturbation and use of a vibrator, BDSM elements (dom/sub dynamics), forced edging and denial, rough play (grinding on the floor), light praise kink, and a cam girl scenario (adult work context). Reader discretion is advised; please proceed only if comfortable with these themes.

Summary - A cam girl giving private a show to a guy. How humiliating can it be?

You’ve been performing cam shows for months, mastering the art of control. You know how to captivate your audience, how to make them pay for more time, for every little move you make. Most of your regulars are easy to manipulate—eager to watch whatever performance you decide to put on. But there’s one viewer, Ethan, who’s different. He never begs for more. He’s quiet in the chat, calm, patient—almost like he’s waiting for something specific, something beyond the usual games.

Tonight, he’s booked a private session, and the moment you see his username pop up, your stomach tightens. He’s your best-paying client, but this isn’t the first time he’s paid for extra time. You’re used to the routine by now: a slow striptease, maybe playing with a toy, guiding your fingers along your skin while he watches. But something about him always makes you feel...different.

Your usual confident smile falters when you see his first message flash across the screen.

"Stop pretending."

You blink, confused. Usually, the viewers are demanding, asking you to start undressing, or telling you what toy they want to see you use. But not him. His words hit you harder than you expect. You feel a twinge of uncertainty, like he’s seeing through the perfectly crafted persona you show everyone else.

"I paid for you to stop acting like you’re in control," he types, making your pulse race. "You’ll do exactly what I say tonight."

You’ve dealt with demanding clients before, but something about the way he commands makes you hesitate. Slowly, you lean back, letting your body relax as you realize you don’t have to play this time. He’s not interested in the performance—you are, for once, just an object for him to command.

"Take off your top, slowly." The message appears on your screen, and you obey, fingers trembling just a little as you pull the fabric over your head, letting the camera capture every movement. You glance at the chat, waiting.

"Good girl." The praise makes you shiver, but then the next message wipes away any sense of accomplishment. "Touch yourself like you do for all those other losers. Show me the act."

You hesitate, your fingers moving to your chest as you perform the usual routine: a soft caress, biting your lip like it feels better than it does. You can’t help but feel silly, but you do as you're told, letting him watch. The next message is brutal.

"Pathetic." The word hits hard, and your body reacts before your mind catches up. Heat spreads through you, unexpected, as you stare at the screen, waiting. "You don’t even know how to touch yourself, do you?" Ethan's words continue, and despite yourself, you’re drawn in.

"Pick up the vibrator." His command is firm, leaving no room for hesitation. You grab the toy beside you, knowing where this is going, but the normal thrill of being in control isn’t there anymore. This is different. You’re just following orders now.

The buzzing fills the room as you turn the vibrator on, hovering it over your skin, waiting for his next instruction.

"Lower." The word flashes across the screen, and you do as you’re told, pressing the toy between your legs, gasping at the sudden intensity. "Don’t stop until I tell you."

Your breath hitches as the vibrations pulse against your body. Your hand trembles, but you keep going, feeling the wetness pooling between your thighs, knowing he’s watching every second. The heat builds quickly, and your body starts reacting involuntarily, hips shifting as you try to chase the release. But then another message flashes on the screen.

"Don’t you dare cum."

It takes everything in you to pull the vibrator back, the frustration overwhelming as your body aches for more. You whimper, eyes flicking to the camera, silently begging for permission, but you don’t get it. Not yet.

"Such a desperate slut," Ethan types, his words making your cheeks flush with a mix of shame and excitement. "You’d do anything for a customer, wouldn’t you? You’d cum for anyone as long as they paid you."

You bite your lip, fingers gripping the sheets as you resist the urge to come, despite how badly you want to. It’s degrading, humiliating, but your body reacts anyway, craving his next command, aching for the release only he can allow.

"Now beg."

You hesitate for a moment, breath shallow, before the words tumble out. "Please... Ethan, I-I need to cum." The sound of your own voice makes you cringe a little. Normally, you control the pace of your shows. You’re the one making them beg, not the other way around. But with him, it’s different. The power is entirely his.

The chat stays silent for what feels like forever, the buzzing toy still held loosely in your hand, teasing your sensitive skin as you wait. Finally, a message blinks on the screen.

"Not good enough."

Your heart pounds. You grip the toy tighter, frustrated. "Please," you whisper, louder this time. "Please let me cum, I’ll do whatever you want." The words come easier now, the need in your voice undeniable.

"That’s what I like to hear."

You shift on the bed, waiting for the permission you’ve been craving, but it doesn’t come. Instead, the next message throws you completely off balance.

"Get on the floor. I want to see you grind against it like the desperate whore you are."

Your pulse quickens, the degradation slicing through you. But before you can second-guess it, you slide off the bed, letting your knees hit the cold floor. You move onto all fours, positioning yourself in front of the camera so he can see everything, your heart racing as you wait for his next command.

The chat flickers again.

"Lower."

You bite your lip and slowly lower your hips until you’re hovering just above the floor, your body tense with anticipation.

"Now grind."

A shiver runs down your spine as you obey, pressing yourself against the floor and rocking your hips, the sensation overwhelming as the rough surface drags against your skin. You gasp, the friction strange but somehow deliciously painful, feeding into the humiliation. Your body reacts immediately, throbbing with need as you move.

"Look at you," Ethan types. "Rubbing yourself on the floor like a bitch in heat. You really are pathetic, aren’t you?"

The sting of his words ignites something deep inside you, the humiliation and the desire mixing together in a way that makes you burn hotter. You grind harder, panting softly as you chase that feeling, your body betraying how much you’re enjoying this even as your mind screams how degrading it is.

But you don’t care. Not anymore. Not with Ethan watching.

"Faster." The next command is ruthless, and you pick up the pace, your hips moving more desperately, the friction building to an unbearable intensity. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your body on fire, but still, he doesn’t let up.

"Touch yourself while you do it. Show me how badly you need it."

You reach between your legs, fingers sliding through the slickness, the added sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through you. Your fingers move in time with your grinding, the mix of pain and pleasure building to a point where you can barely take it. You’re so close, so desperate for the release he’s been denying you.

"Stop."

The single word freezes you in place, your entire body trembling on the edge. You let out a frustrated whine, your hand pausing as you press your forehead against the floor, breathing heavily. You’re so close it hurts, your body begging for permission to finish, but you know better than to disobey him now.

"Look at yourself," Ethan types, his words sharp. "Look at how pathetic you are, rutting against the floor for me. You’ll cumwhen I say, and not a second before."

You lift your head, glancing up at the camera, your face flushed, hair clinging to your damp skin. His next message flashes across the screen.

"Get back on the bed and grab the vibrator."

You scramble to obey, pulling yourself off the floor and crawling back onto the bed, fingers shaking as you grab the toy again. The buzzing fills the air as you switch it on, placing it back between your legs, your body immediately responding with a shudder of pleasure.

"Now finish for me. But I want you loud. Let me hear how badly you needed it."

The command is all you need. You press the vibrator against your aching core, letting out a loud, broken moan as your body finally gives in. The sensation is overwhelming, every nerve ending lighting up as the pleasure crashes over you in waves. You ride the high, your moans filling the room as you shake, the release more intense than you could have imagined after being denied for so long.

When youu finallyy cum down, your body trembling and spent, Ethan’s final message appears on the screen.

"Good girl."

You lay there, breathing hard, your mind hazy from the intensity of it all. And as you stare at the screen, you realize one thing: you can’t wait for the next show.

[mystictimemachinedream]

Irrevocably Yours

a/n: I always wanted to make a yandere x yandere fic. I feel like it didn't come off as dark as it could have been lmao.

Cw: Yandere x Yandere(which means usual talks about killing, love potions, confinement, etc), Yandere!Levi, Yandere!MC(but you're trying to do better), Double Penetration, Rough Sex, Levi having two dicks, some dub-con(there's protests at first but MC actually wants him), Fem!MC, kinda ooc.

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It was becoming too much—how you felt, the way your emotions churned inside you like a storm you couldn’t control. You were trying so hard not to give in to your usual behavior, to be normal, to keep it together. But the obsessive thoughts, the relentless impulse to take, to control, to own, were beginning to creep up, growing stronger with each passing day.

You’d managed to keep that side of yourself under wraps—relatively speaking—by focusing on anything and everything else. You buried yourself in distractions, anything to keep your mind off the darker urges. That was why you avoided relationships, why you pushed away any romantic feelings.

But that wasn’t enough anymore, because you were in love. Completely and utterly in love. The target of your affection was Leviathan, the shy, awkward, but endearing otaku. You hadn’t meant for it to happen; you’d kept your walls tall and unyielding, only offering detached friendship to the demon, just like you did with his brothers. But somehow, that detached friendship had morphed into an actual friendship.

You reasoned with yourself that it was okay to have a friend, as long as it didn’t become more. Friendship was harmless, right? You could handle that.

Wrong.

You quickly went from being just another normie to becoming his Henry, and with that came a shift you hadn’t anticipated. He started dragging you into his room more often, refusing to let you leave with those big, sad eyes and that lovely blush on his face. He’d ask you to stay just a bit longer, his voice tinged with a plea you found impossible to resist. Maybe your mistake was relenting so often, convincing yourself that you were doing it for the sake of your friendship, feeding into the denial that you weren’t crossing a line.

It was during one of those many nights spent gaming together that the truth hit you—like a bucket of ice-cold water. You were infatuated with him. The realization came when you found yourself wondering how you could keep him isolated, how you could ensure that no one else could be around him but you. The thought startled you, made you question everything. You were trying to be good, to do better. You couldn’t possibly be infatuated. That wasn’t you, not anymore. So you decided you needed to distance yourself from him, just a bit, so you could get over whatever it was you were feeling. It should have been easy, right?

Wrong again.

You didn’t anticipate Leviathan’s persistence. You thought of him as too shy, too easily flustered to chase after anyone, least of all you. But he never gave up. He whined in your ear, his voice desperate and needy, tugging on your clothes like a child afraid of being left alone. He even went as far as staying in your room with you, refusing to leave your side. It was so out of character, so unlike the Leviathan you thought you knew, that it rendered you speechless every single time. (And maybe, just maybe, another mistake you made was not paying closer attention to the hidden obsession lurking in his eyes, the way they darkened with something deeper, something more dangerous.)

Seeing such persistence warmed your heart, though. It showed you that he was willing to fight for you, to keep you close no matter what. Infatuation quickly turned into love—so completely in love. But just because you were in love didn’t necessarily mean it had to be obsessive or controlling, right? It could be a pure love, right?

Completely and utterly wrong. (And you wondered, in those rare moments of clarity, was anything you decided ever the right choice?)

The thoughts about being the only one around him consumed you. The maddening jealousy you felt when you heard him talk to his friends online, the burning urge to destroy all of his Ruri-chan merchandise—because how dare he love anything else but you?!—the overwhelming need to check all his electronics to make sure there was no one else… it all started to eat away at you.

All you could think of was him: Leviathan, Leviathan, Leviathan.

But still, you tried. You tried your best to fight it, because you were trying to do better. To be good. You wanted to love him in a pure, wholesome way. You didn’t want your love to be so obsessive, so twisted. But it was getting harder and harder to suppress the urges. (But were you really even trying hard enough, or were you just kidding yourself?)

It took all your willpower not to give in, but even with that, there were small things you did without his knowledge—like taking articles of his clothing, savoring the way they smelled of him. You took harmless peeks here and there at his computer and even his phone (and it wasn’t like he made it hard to figure out his passwords when he put it in right in front of you). Occasionally, you’d discourage him from going outside, convincing him it was safer, better to stay in. But it was all harmless, at least that’s what you wanted to believe, because at least you hadn’t snuck in a love potion to make him yours. (Not yet, at least.)

Still, you knew deep down that you couldn’t continue like this. The thought of hurting Leviathan twisted your heart—but you would, without hesitation, if he ever so much as looked at someone else. HE WAS YOURS. The intensity of your love for him made it clear that you needed to try again to put some distance between you, even if it meant spending time with one of his brothers instead. (It was almost laughable how desperate they were for your attention.)

That decision is what led you to your current predicament. It was your fault, yes, but your intentions were pure—at least, that’s what you told yourself. (Or was it that you were just too afraid to surrender completely?)

“I can’t,” you repeated firmly, holding your ground as you rejected Leviathan’s invitation to hang out. “I have plans with Beel.”

“P-Plans?” he echoed, his voice thick with disbelief, as though the word itself was foreign to him. His tone softened into a desperate plea. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Beel will understand if you cancel.”

The way he looked at you—so sweet, so hopeful—almost broke your resolve. But you knew you had to stay strong. “I already said I can’t. I’ll hang out with you afterwards.”

With one last, fleeting glance in his direction, you turned and walked away. If you had only looked back, you would have seen the dark, ominous scowl that had settled on his face.

When you returned from your outing with Beelzebub, who was sweet but unbearably boring, you found yourself debating whether to go see Leviathan. But you decided against it, reminding yourself of the need to maintain your distance, no matter how much it hurt. You clung to that conviction even as you ignored the constant stream of message notifications chiming from your D.D.D while you got ready for bed.

And maybe—just maybe—if you hadn’t been so completely lost in sleep, you would have noticed Leviathan standing silently at the foot of your bed, his demon form fully revealed, with slitted, orange-glowing eyes fixed intently on your figure.

This pattern continued for an entire week. You spent time with one brother after another, each day rejecting Leviathan’s invitations with an ache in your heart. But then, something strange started happening. Random pieces of your clothing—mostly your panties—began to disappear. Objects like your notebooks, chapstick, hair ties, and even pillows vanished without a trace. By that point, you knew it wasn’t just your imagination.

It made you want to scream. Someone actually had the audacity to take your things—and how dare they covet you when you belonged to Levi! The thought burned in your mind, making it nearly impossible to focus as Satan tried to engage you in conversation at the cat café. The soft meows and gentle purring of the cats around you did nothing to soothe the growing anger bubbling inside. Every time you saw a playful swish of a tail or felt a soft nuzzle, your thoughts drifted back to the house, to the annoyance you were going to have to deal with. You knew you’d have to investigate more thoroughly the moment you returned.

Once the two of you finally arrived back at the house, you were on a mission. Barely muttering a goodbye to Satan, you made a beeline for your room, your heart pounding with anticipation. The hallways blurred as you stormed through them, your mind solely focused on getting answers, to check and see if anything else went missing. Reaching your door, you flung it open with a force that made the hinges creak. But the sight that greeted you stopped you in your tracks.

Leviathan was sitting on your bed, his posture casual yet somehow possessive, as if he owned not just the bed but the entire space around him. His presence filled the room, and for a moment, you faltered, the anger you had felt earlier mixing with surprise and something else you couldn’t quite name (was it excitement?). You closed the door behind you, the click of the latch sounding louder than it should have in the stillness.

“Levi?” you questioned, your voice wavering slightly. The intensity of his gaze when he finally looked up at you made your breath catch. His usually soft and shy demeanor was replaced with something far more focused, almost predatory.

“Did you have fun with Satan?” he asked bluntly, his voice low and steady. The stillness of his figure, the way he didn’t move a muscle, made you instantly cautious. It was like he was waiting for something—for a slip, a crack in your composure.

“I did,” you lied easily, though the words tasted bitter on your tongue. The truth was, you had hated every second of your time with Satan, and it wasn’t just because of him. You loathed going out with any of Leviathan’s brothers.

Leviathan tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he observed you. It felt like he could see right through your lie, peeling back layers to uncover the truth you were trying to hide. The intensity of his scrutiny almost made you shiver. But then, as quickly as the tension had arisen, it dissipated. Leviathan looked away, his fingers beginning to fidget with his D.D.D. The shift in his demeanor was almost surreal.

“W-would you like to come to my room? We haven’t s-spent time together,” he asked, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. When he looked at you again, his eyes were no longer sharp and probing but soft and vulnerable.

You hesitated, weighing your options. It should be fine to go with him this one time. You told yourself you’d make it quick—just a few minutes in his room, and then you’d leave. The sudden foreboding feeling you had should had deterred you yet you chose to ignore it (or maybe you just didn’t want to see the signs right in front of you).

“Sure.” A word that sealed your fate.

As you walked with him through the dimly lit hallway, the anxiety grew stronger, tightening its grip on your chest with every step. Leviathan was close enough that you could feel the occasional brush of his arm against yours, and each touch sent a jolt through your body, heightening your unease. The closer you got to his room, the heavier the air felt, as if the walls themselves were closing in on you. You wondered if you would be able to bolt if things spiraled out of control, your mind already calculating the distance to the door and the speed you’d need to escape.

When you both stood in front of his door, the tension in the air was palpable, a suffocating presence that made your skin crawl. It was almost ominous when he opened the door and gestured for you to step inside, the sound of the door creaking open like a warning you were too stubborn to heed. As you walked in, your eyes darted around the room, searching for anything out of place, but everything looked the same. His usual setup, the familiar clutter of manga and figurines… So why were you feeling like th—oh.

Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze landed on his desk. Those were your items scattered across it, some new things that you hadn’t even realized were missing yet. And there, in his tub, nestled among his many sheets and body pillows, were your clothes, panties and pillows, arranged almost reverently.

You stood there, paralyzed by shock, even as you heard the door close behind you, the sound of the lock sliding into place echoing loudly in your ears.

“Levi, that’s… my stuff, my clothes,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper, but you knew he heard you. He was standing so close behind you now that you could feel the heat of his body radiating against your back, making you shiver involuntarily.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asked, his voice low and eerily calm, completely ignoring your statement as if it were irrelevant. His breath tickled your ear, sending another shiver down your spine.

This wasn’t what you expected. Leviathan wasn’t supposed to be like you, caught in the same struggle, battling the same obsession. The thought made your heart race. That wasn’t good—you didn’t want to be pulled further into obsession, into depravity. You wanted to be normal, to be better, to be good. You chanted those words to yourself like a prayer, a desperate attempt to cling to sanity, even as you finally turned to look at him.

He was looking at you with an intensity that made your breath hitch, his eyes locked onto yours as if you were the only thing that existed in his world.

But you couldn’t give in. You were determined to have a wholesome, pure romance with him. You had to resist, had to keep things from spiraling out of control.

“Don’t make me ask you again,” he growled, his voice dropping an octave as he grabbed your chin with a firm hand, his hold almost bruising in its intensity (and his aggressiveness shouldn’t have been so arousing to you).

“Things were getting too… intense. I just wanted a bit of space so things could mellow down between us,” you answered hesitantly, your words stumbling over themselves as you tried to make him understand. But even as you spoke, you could feel the flimsiness of your excuse, the way it barely held together under the weight of the truth.

“Intense?” He grinned, a smile that was more a baring of teeth than anything else, with an almost maniacal edge to it. His eyes gleamed with a knowing light, as if he could see right through you, as if he knew all the things you’d done behind his back, all the secrets you thought you’d kept hidden.

But you stubbornly kept your mouth shut. You could do this—you could talk him down, make him see reason. You would keep your distance and regain control (liar, liar, liar. All you did was lie).

“I know you want me. At first, I couldn’t believe it because why would you want me? But then, you started taking some of my clothes.” He looked deeply pleased as he let go of your chin, bending down to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as he spoke. “I could even feel your envy, your jealousy when I’d game with my friends or when I gave too much attention to anything else that wasn’t you.”

You sucked in a breath as he slowly nipped at your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that sent a jolt of sensation through your body, heat pooling in your core despite yourself.

“I thought things were going well,” he paused, his voice darkening as he continued, “but then you started spending time with my brothers. You were ignoring my messages and invitations to come to my room.” As those words left his lips, the nipping grew harsher until he bit down on your neck deep enough to leave a mark but not enough to draw blood. The sudden sharp pain made you yelp and squirm in his grasp, but his hold was unrelenting.

He snarled at your attempts to break free, the sound vibrating against your skin, and you froze again, your body betraying you as a wave of desire crashed over you. You wanted to give in so badly—you wanted him to be yours. You wanted to be his. This side of him was so unexpected but definitely not unwelcome.

“I need you to explain yourself. Now.” His grip tightened as he fisted his hand in your hair and yanked it back harshly, forcing you to meet his gaze.

You licked your lips, trying to steady your breathing. “Levi, this just isn’t… healthy. I’m trying to do better.”

He scoffed, as if your answer was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “We want to be with each other. Does anything else matter?”

His words were tempting, far too tempting. But you wanted your love to last, to be built on a solid foundation (but really, you were just a fucking coward).

“It does matter. How about you let me go back to my room so we can think about this?” you suggested, your voice trembling slightly. The grip on your hair tightened, pulling at your scalp, and you winced in pain (but you wanted him to be even more aggressive, to show you how much he loved you).

“You, better than anyone, should know that you aren’t going anywhere. If I have to tie you up, then I will.” He released your hair with a sudden force and pushed you down onto the floor. The impact was harsh, and you barely managed to catch yourself with your hands before your head could hit the hard surface. He stood over you, a blank expression on his face as he watched you struggle to steady yourself.

“L-Levi, just calm down. We can talk about this,” you pleaded softly, your voice trembling as he dropped to his knees, caging you in his arms against the cold, hard floor. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, mingling with the coolness of the floor beneath you. If he kept pushing, you knew you would give in.

“For someone who wants me just as badly, you’re protesting too much.” His voice was low, dangerously calm, as he leaned his forehead against yours. His breath ghosted over your lips. “But don’t worry, I’ll fuck the fight out of you. And if that doesn’t work, well, I don’t mind using other methods if it means keeping you with me.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help the way your body reacted. Heat pooled between your thighs, your panties already soaked through. You almost moaned at the sheer threat in his voice, and you wondered just how much rougher he’d get if you kept resisting. Would he lose control entirely? (You hoped he would.)

“Levi, please. We can’t,” you whined weakly, your resolve wavering as his lips brushed against yours. You somehow managed to turn your head away, but the gesture felt futile. The air around you shifted as he pulled back, his energy darkening. When you glanced up at him, his demon form was already out—scales glistening under the dim light, coral horns out, his tail swaying predatorily, and his glowing orange eyes fixated on you with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“Fine, I guess we’ll do this the hard way,” he growled in your ear. The words sent your mind spiraling, and before you could fully process what was happening, everything became a blur of heat and sensation.

You gasped, eyes widening as his hand slid under your skirt with purpose, fingers expertly finding your soaked core. He moaned—a deep, guttural sound that sent a thrill through your body—when he felt how wet you were even through the thin fabric of your panties. It was the only confirmation he needed, the last bit of proof that you truly wanted him, needed him, despite your feeble protests.

With a heated urgency, his hands tore away your panties and skirt, ripping through the delicate fabric like it was nothing. Your shirt and bra followed, shredded under his impatient touch, leaving your skin exposed to the cool air and his hungry gaze. He didn’t waste a second, pulling you into a smoldering kiss that was all heat and desperation. Just like that, your resolve shattered, crumbling beneath the weight of your desire. You returned the kiss with equal fervor because you wanted—no, you needed—him so badly it ached.

He smirked against your lips when he felt you go pliant in his arms, the tension leaving your body as you surrendered to him. His mouth broke away from yours, only to descend upon your chest, his hot breath trailing over your skin as he left a path of bruising bite marks in his wake. Each nip sent a jolt of pleasure-pain through you, drawing breathless moans from your lips.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as he zeroed in on one of your nipples, his mouth hot and eager. He sucked on the small nub, his tongue swirling around it before his teeth grazed the sensitive flesh, sending sparks of pleasure straight to your core. Meanwhile, his thick fingers pumped into your wet, warm cunt—two at first, then three, and finally four, stretching you open with a pace that was fast and merciless. The sensation was overwhelming, the roughness almost too much to bear, but you craved it. You needed more.

He didn’t give you a moment to adjust, didn’t let you catch your breath as he fucked you with his fingers, driving them in deep with each thrust. His thumb found your swollen clit, rubbing tight, desperate circles that had you crying out, your body arching off the floor. The pleasure was intense, almost unbearable, but you loved it.

You hugged him closer, your whines and pleas for more filling the room, mingling with the sounds of your slick arousal as his fingers moved in and out of you with relentless speed. He was going to make you cum already, and you hadn’t even gotten started. His mouth finally released your nipple, leaving it glistening with his saliva, and he pulled you into an almost desperate kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth as he curled his fingers just right inside you.

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with a force that left you breathless. You cried out, the sound muffled by his mouth, and your cunt clenched around his fingers, gushing wetness all over his hand. He didn’t stop, didn’t slow down, riding you through your orgasm as if he wanted to wring every last drop of pleasure from you.

It was all so rough, so fast, but it felt so right, like this was exactly how it was meant to be. You could only watch with half-lidded eyes, your breath coming in short gasps, as he finally pulled his fingers out of your throbbing cunt. Your juices coated his hand and he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a look of pure satisfaction.

But he wasn’t done. Not even close.

He leaned back, his glowing eyes never leaving yours as he reached for his zipper. The sound of it being pulled down was almost deafening in the silence that followed. He didn’t bother fully undressing, only tugging his jeans down just enough to free his cock—no, cocks. He had two of them, thick and throbbing with need.

Your mouth watered at the sight of him, and your cunt clenched on nothing as you imagined the sensation of him fucking you open on those thick, pulsating cocks. The mere thought made you shiver. You spread your legs wider, a silent plea, an open invitation that had him settling between them eagerly.

“This messy cunt belongs to me,” Leviathan rasped, his voice low and gravelly, as he rubbed both of his cocks against the slick folds of your cunt. The friction sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making you gasp as he gathered the wetness on the heads of his cocks, teasing your entrance with slow, deliberate movements. “You belong to me. I need you to remember that because I will kill anyone you so much as look at for too long. I don’t even want you leaving my room at all.”

You mewled softly at his words, the sound escaping your lips involuntarily, and you knew in that moment that there was no going back. You couldn’t deny it anymore—couldn’t even pretend to care how twisted your love had become, how unhealthy it likely was. All that mattered was that he was finally yours, and you would do anything to keep him that way.

“Do you understand?” Leviathan’s tone was harsh as he gripped both of his cocks firmly, positioning them at your entrance. He pushed forward slowly, just the tips breaching your slick, swollen folds. The stretch was intense, borderline painful, but the pleasure that accompanied it was undeniable. A high-pitched moan tore from your throat as your eyes became teary at the sensation.

“Levi!” you whined, desperation lacing your voice as you attempted to roll your hips down, to pull more of him inside. But his tail coiled around your waist, holding you firmly in place.

“I asked you a question. Do you understand?” Leviathan remained still, his gaze dark with lust, waiting for your answer. When you didn’t respond quickly enough, his hand moved to your breast, fingers tugging one of your nipples harshly. The sting made you gasp, a mixture of pain and pleasure that sent a jolt straight to your core. “Or are you so cock-drunk already that you can’t even answer me?”

“I—I understand,” you panted, finally finding your voice. You reached up, your hand tangling in his hair as you yanked him down, bringing his face closer to yours. “But that also means you belong to me. I will kill you and myself if you ever try to leave me.”

“Fuck,” he cursed, and you felt his cocks twitch at your words. His lips crashed into yours in a sloppy, heated kiss, all teeth and tongue, as if he was trying to devour you whole. The kiss broke only when he pulled back to latch onto the side of your neck that was still unmarked, his teeth grazing your skin before sinking in, marking you with more bruises that would be visible for days. And then, with a snap of his hips, he thrust both cocks fully inside you.

The stretch was overwhelming, the sensation of being so utterly full making you sob with pleasure. He didn’t give you time to adjust, his pace punishing as he pounded into you, each thrust harder and faster than the last. It was as if he were releasing all the pent-up anger from the week you had avoided him, taking out his frustration on your body. But you welcomed it, craved it even. You’d always loved the bite of pain with your pleasure, always been a bit of a masochist for it.

Moans mixed with cries of pleasure, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. It was loud, lewd, and unmistakable, and you knew anyone within earshot would know exactly what was happening. But the thought only fueled your desire for him, making you arch against him, desperate to take him even deeper.

You felt another orgasm building, coiling tight in your core as one of Leviathan’s cocks hit your sweet spot with each thrust, while the blunt tip of the other bumped against your cervix, making you see stars. The sensations were overwhelming, your mind going hazy as you babbled incoherently, slurred pleas and moans spilling from your lips.

Leviathan’s eyes were glued to your face, watching every expression, every reaction. The sight of you—completely fucked out, cock-drunk and lost in pleasure—sent a surge of smug satisfaction through him. He moaned loudly, the sound almost desperate as he lifted your legs, pressing your knees against your chest, and somehow, impossibly, drove even deeper inside you.

You wailed as another orgasm tore through you, your cunt clenching and throbbing around him, the pleasure almost too intense to bear. He whined at the sensation, his own pace faltering as he neared his release. With a final, forceful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you and came, his hot seed flooding your cunt. The feeling of him filling you, marking you from the inside out, made you moan weakly.

He panted heavily as he finally stopped cumming, his breath ragged as he slowly pulled out, even as you whimpered from the overstimulation. Cum leaked from your thoroughly used cunt, trailing down to your ass as he admired the state he’d left you in.

For a moment, he just looked at you—as if memorizing every mark, every bruise, every inch of you that he’d claimed. Then, with surprising gentleness and a now adorable flush on his face, he picked you up, holding you close to his chest. He carried you to his tub and he climbed in, laying down with you on top of him, his arms wrapped securely around you as he pulled a soft sheet over both of you.

You snuggled closer against his chest, your eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion washed over you. The romance between you two was never going to be pure, never going to be simple. It was twisted, dark, and even dangerous—but it was real. You belonged to each other, and that was enough.

You would do anything to keep him because Leviathan was finally yours. And really, this was the best outcome you could have hoped for. Now, you didn’t have to go through with your darker plans of somehow knocking him out and trapping him somewhere. You only hoped he took you seriously about never leaving, because you truly would kill him if he tried. He belonged to you, after all.

[nagisachanlol]

When all you fanfic writers grow older than your fictional crush I hope you guys continue writing for them as "Milf/Dilf reader x char". I swear I'll be your no.1 fan then because my biggest fear is growing older than my fictional crushes and then not being able to simp for them on the same level as now because the fanfics with the readers being in their 20s would start feeling too young for me. Lol or maybe I'm just too emotional

[dollwrites]

I have a request!!! Can you maybe do a dark fic of Yandere Belphie (OM) where the MC reader (fem preferably) somehow accidentally goes into Belphie’s room/cage without being able to get back out? The longing of Belphie as he watches her come and go…but now? She can finally be his.

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, yandere!belphie, noncon, begging, fingering, very brief degradation, touch starved belphie, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

“Don’t leave me,” it was a pathetic and whiny moan against the shell of your ear. one you might have even thought was precious had he not been pressing all of his body weight against you. his fists wrapped tightly around your wrists, pinning the backs of your hands to the floor as he littered your sensitive neck with hungry, open mouthed kisses. “Stay with me. Play with me.”

you could feel the graze of his teeth, and the roughness of his horns as they rub against you, his tongue swirling circles, leaving trails of warm saliva over skin that he swells by suckling hard. “B—Belph…!” you gasp, tilting your head back to try and look towards the gated exit. it must’ve been charmed by magic you didn’t understand, because once you’d managed to get inside, you couldn’t get back out. your DDD lay just on the other side, though, and you could see Lucifer’s stoic expression every time the phone lit up with another call. “I-I need to…” your arms could fit through the bars, if he wasn’t pinning them down. your hands make fists, and then uncurl, as if you were trying to grab for it, and bite your lip as you stare at the screen. you could imagine Lucifer was robocalling you, unable to find you in the manor.

“Don’t worry, he won’t even think to look here.” Belphegor elicits a breathy moan, pressing his body to yours. his eyes flickered up to the DDD, too, and he allows a lazy smirk to stretch his lips as he presses them in a seal against your collarbone. he shifts his grip, taking your weak wrists together in one palm to push them above your head. this new position freed one hand that he then slipped under the waistband of your jeans, regardless of your gurgled protest. he didn’t even have to unbutton them, digging underneath the fabric of them and your panties to cup your warm sex. you whimper, pushing your back off the floor at the sensation— it’s greedy and uncouth, the tips of his digits hooking underneath your netherlips to anchor his hand there. your thighs clamp together, legs trying to rub and kick between your bodies, but his hand was already between your hips, and there was no pushing him out now. “You’re such a good girl, my brother wouldn’t suspect you’d break his rules, come exploring the attic even though he told you not to. You’re safely here with me, and I don’t have to let you go.” he whispers each syllable, signing his name over your chest with his tongue as if to claim you as his.

“I’ve been waiting… watching for so long… I’ve needed this. I’ve needed you.”

“W—wait,” you breathe out, bucking your hips, squeezing your fists and pushing against his strength. it was no use, you were much, much weaker than him, but you tried to show as much resistance as you could muster, “d-don’t touch… Belphie, Lucifer will eventually find me! I don’t want you to get in more trouble…” you were panting, now, be it from fear or the pleasurable strokes as he rubs his finger pads between your folds, feeling all of your slick, vulnerable sex. you didn’t want to show that it felt good, being played with against your will, but you couldn’t help it if he felt the heat from your blushing cheeks, or the way your cunt trembled under his fingertips. “J—just help me reach my DDD, yeah..??” you bite down, harshly on your lip when he lets out a bestial snort, using his horns and hooking them through your top and bra. with a shake of his head, like a mad bull, he’s shredded your clothes, and nuzzles his face into your breasts, smothering himself with them. your eyelids flutter when he nips at one, delicate bud; it hardens between his teeth, a pleased growl rumbling in the back of his throat. “L—Lucifer might reward you for h-helping, I could even… maybe I can ask him to let y-you out—!” you try to add, but his middle finger slips into your clenching hole, and it spasms in protest as he sets a brutal pace. “B-Belphegor..!! D—don’t..!!”

“You’re so stupid, it’s kinda cute, even.” Belphegor teases, his gaze burning into yours as he rolls your nipple between his teeth, before clamping his mouth down around it, sucking. he makes a loud, smacking sound as drool leaks out of the corners of his mouth, as if he were feeding from you as desperately as a starved animal. he moans, his ring finger joining the middle one to stretch you open further. they pump, knuckle deep, inside of you, and you can feel every subtle curl as he searches for a sweet spot. you mewl his name, pathetic tears in the corners of your eyes. he was rough, but you didn’t think that he was trying to hurt you.

he was just so damn desperate— and you could see a wildfire of hunger burning in his eyes. he couldn’t be gentle, even if he wanted to.

prying his mouth from your nipple with a dizzying pop, he breathes, ragged, glaring up at you with his dark tresses hanging in his eyes. “You’re here with me, now. I don’t care about getting out, not anymore. Not now that I’ve snagged a pretty, little plaything to keep me happy.” his fingers thrust in, deep and fast, until you’re squealing and writhing around on the floor, and he nuzzles against your breast, smearing saliva between his cheek and your mound, before dragging his teeth and tongue over your areola with his fist clenching your wrists tighter. he moans, closing his eyes, when his fingers batter a bundle of spongy nerves that send you into a yelping, kicking fit, coming unraveled beneath him. “And you like it, too, don’t you?” when you shake your head, trying to bite down on your lip so you don’t make any more flustered sounds, his pace only picked up, coaxing your body to answer for you. clenches, spasms, and soaking through your jeans, your eyelids fluttered and your head fell back. you could still watch Lucifer lighting up your DDD, no doubt urgently looking for you. “It’s okay, you can lie to me and tell me you hate it, if that’s what you want.” Belphegor presses all of his weight on you, dragging his open mouth against your cheek as he breathes heavily against it. there’s a sizable, firm lump that grinds against your trembling thigh when he rests his body on yours, and you hate how wet it makes you to feel the shape of his cock prodding, searching for your hyper-sensitive cunt. “As long as you never leave me, you can act as bratty as you want to. Our little game,” he coos, nibbling on your jaw, before inching up to smother your mouth with his own, “just remember, the more you resist, the rougher I’ll have to get, baby.”

[exchangestudentnova]

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