The real priv acc

Mark loves you, he always shows it, even if he's in another galaxy saving the planet. Mark is an emotional person, something everyone in the universe knows, something you know too. Mark often can't control his feelings, especially when it comes to you. Mark gets jealous easily, even if he won't admit it, even if he doesn't want to be.

At first, he would stay quiet, thinking about you and the other person. You both seem very happy, something that bothers him.

He knows he has no right to say anything to you; in the end, he's not very present, but that doesn't stop him from being bothered that his beloved partner is happier with someone else.

Once you're alone, he tries to bring up the subject.

— Did you have fun? — His tone is dull; in reality, his intention is not to be friendly, he just wants to know if you have a better time without him.

The walk home was silent, but the tension was there.

You thought he'd had a tough mission, so you didn't think much of it.

Mark was nervous. Yes, he's the best hero in the world, but maybe not the best boyfriend.

A lot was going through Mark's head, ideas he didn't even know existed.

When he got home, he decided to confront you.

— Do you think this is funny? — You looked at him, confused. —Do you think I didn't notice? —

The silence was there, but it was fragile.

— I don't know what you're talking about. — You raised an eyebrow.

Mark chuckled.

— Do you want to get rid of me? — His eyes were starting to well up with tears.

— Mark, I- — He raised his hand, interrupting you.

— You and he were really animated. I haven't seen you like this in a long time. — He clenched his jaw.

— Mark, you're tired. — You sighed.

— You're right. I'm tired of you not treating me like your boyfriend. —

— Excuse me? — You laughed indignantly.

— I love you, but it seems like you only want me as decoration. —

You didn't know what to say.

— You know what? Let's talk when you've calmed down. — You went to your room.

When Mark is jealous, he's very unpredictable, but when he wants something, he gets it.

He'd probably watch you from afar, something you wouldn't even notice.

He'd investigate the other person; he's afraid they might be dangerous.

When he thinks things have calmed down, he'll come to see you, wanting to fix things.

— Hey, I just wanted to... — He trailed off.

— Mark — you said, looking at him with tired eyes.

— Forgive me, — he said, taking your hands. — I've been stressed, and the other day... — He started kissing your knuckles.

— I know, Mark, but sometimes you cross the line. — You placed one of your hands on his cheek, and he stayed there, as if it were second nature.

— I'm sorry... — He started to cry.

Mark is very jealous.

Mark is very emotionalHe tried to set boundaries, he tried to believe that you wouldn't cheat on him with someone else

Coincidentally, the other guy no longer appears in your life. Obviously, Mark has nothing to do with that.

In the end, he just wants to be with you, even if the universe tries to keep you apart.

You'd met him at university years ago and had been taken with his intelligence and blunt way of viewing the world. At that time in your life, you weren't sure of anything. You couldn't help but be drawn to someone so absolutely certain of everything.

It was a cult of personality, yet you were the only member. You longed for Light, craved his confidence, which then turned into just basking in his mere presence. You wanted him bad, but the timing just never seemed right between the two of you. He got a girlfriend, and you became swept up in your studies.

Now when he says these words telling you that you're special, you want to believe him. You want him to give you what you yearn for. You want for them to be real so badly, but you still can't fully give in to that hope. Why did he need you so much now when he let you slip away from him for years?

He called you a few months ago, asking to go to lunch. There'd been no reason to decline, so you met up with him the next week to 'catch up.' When you arrived at the small restaurant and took your seat across from him, he smiled at you like you'd just come from your shared lecture all those years ago. You fell into a conversation as if you were still best friends.

After that initial meeting, more followed. You kept seeing him even when he mentioned that he and Misa still lived together. In your head you reasoned that you and him were just friends. It was fine to hang out with your friend. But then your dates started to include lingering looks and fleeting touches. Then soft confessions and stolen kisses. You were no longer Light's friend, but you shamefully continued to come to him time after time.

I loved him first you told yourself.

You found out he was Kira when he confessed several weeks ago out of necessity. Too many people in your circles had died. You couldn't lie for him if you didn't know you should be. He didn't want you mentioning off-handedly that these deaths started happening not too long after your reconnection. Or that they only seemed to occur within days of you complaining about the victim bothering you.

At first, it scared you, finding out that Light had such power. But it also made sense. If anyone you knew could wield the force of death, it would be him.

As with everything else he did, you accepted it. Unlike your compliance with his infidelity, this wasn't your fault though. What was the other option? You didn't believe you meant more to Light than his crusade. Even though he killed for you, he was Kira before your lover. You would die before he lost his war. 

He would take a life for your presumed benefit, but you didn't credit that fact to you being special. Your love didn't blind you to his arrogance. More than you, he loved to show off, craved the satisfaction that came with having ultimate power over someone. Or in his case, everyone.

That's why when he proclaimed you his goddess last week at one of your rendezvous, you were still hesitant to accept the words. 

He lives with Misa. His speeches about having no love for her ring hollow when half of your bed remains empty each night. Why can't he just commit to you instead of trying to fill your head with ideas of divinity?

Tonight, you meet him in a hotel room. One he booked just for the two of you. It was a nice space. Not some cheap place rife with other affairs and unfaithful couplings. The elevator ride to your floor is smooth and quiet. 

He's already inside when you arrive.

You see him sitting on the edge of the bed as you push the door open and enter silently. All the linens were still tucked in place. His eyes lift to meet yours.

"There you are," he says. 

His voice comes out softer than usual. Not with affection necessarily. It almost sounds weary.

You pad over the smooth hotel carpet with caution. Light was never weary. Never showed vulnerability. No one was ever allowed to see weakness from him.

"Are you alright?" you ask, tone matching his in its lack of intensity.

Stopping between his legs, you bring your hand up to cup his cheek. Your thumb swipes back and forth across his smooth skin. His rich brown eyes linger on your features, a whirlpool of emotions storming within them.

"Yeah," he answers in contrast to what you see.

Curling his fingers around the dips in your waist, he sits you on his thigh and pulls you close on his lap. He noses the curve of your neck, kissing the flesh tenderly and breathing in the smell of you.

"I want to try something tonight. Will you let me?" he murmurs.

"What is it?" you ask, your own fingers stroking through his sandy locks.

The question puts a smile on his face and draws a quiet laugh from his lips. "Don't you trust me?"

You mirror the expression with your own mouth. 

Do you trust him? It’s a loaded question. One you would think deeply about if it were asked in another context. But here, you do what any person desperately seeking the approval of their lover would.

"Yeah."

"Exactly. So say yes, and let me show you," he says.

Staring into his eyes for a few seconds more, you contemplate the request. You had no clue what he was going to do. Why couldn't he just say it? What was there to hide? Maybe it's more of an embarrassment thing. You still don't know even after thinking it over, but you decide to agree anyway. After all, you said you trusted him.

"Ok," you whisper with a small bob of your head.

Upon seeing your little nod, his smile morphs into a grin.

"Good girl," he says and pecks the corner of your mouth.

He moves you off his lap and onto the bed before getting up. Walking to the chair by the window, he picks up a couple bags. They look like nice ones from luxurious stores, names of brands you'd never even heard of displayed across the sleek laminate exteriors. He sets them down at your feet.

"If I'm going to have you by my side as I rule, I want us to be united. I want you presented as if you were made in my image," he says, voice dropping and the words oozing out a bit cooler.

Your eyes watch him as he speaks. So wide and innocent. The ache for his affection visible within them even if you don't want it to be.

He drags two of his slender fingers down your cheek again. When they reach your jawline, he maneuvers your face around. His hand tilts it to different angles as if studying you.

"You're going to be perfect," he says quietly.

Bending down, he fishes the items from the bag and lays them out next to you on the bed. First a black dress made of sheer chiffon with velvet roses laying over obsidian satin. It's the prettiest thing that would ever be on your body in your life.

Next comes a matching pair of glossy pumps. He drops them next to the dress on the mattress before pulling you to your feet. He positions you in front of him looking down his gifts and rests his chin on your shoulder. You can feel his eyes on your face, scrutinizing each detail for a reaction.

"Are those for me?" you ask.

"Of course they are. Who else would they be for?" he responds as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

You shrug, your own pupils scanning the items up and down. "They're nice," you continue slowly. This wasn't at all bad, and the pieces were beautiful. They just weren't what you had imagined.

"I want you looking your best when you're by my side," he whispers.

His hands drift down to your hips, and he turns you around. He brushes his nose against yours, coasting his lips by so that they just barely touch your own.

"Let me show you how good it'll feel. Be my little doll for the night," he whispers, his breath tickling your face.

It feels so good being this close. You nod and tilt your head to connect your mouths. He kisses back, palm sliding up to cup the back of your neck.

You get a few more soft smooches before he pulls back.

"Let's get you dressed up then."

He begins to remove the clothes you wore here. Your top is the first thing to hit the floor. It crumples in on itself next to your ankles. You're left bare, little chills erupting over your skin as the cool air hits you. He spins you around slowly and unclasps your bra, letting your breasts fall free.

His hands weave under your arms to come around and cup the mounds. They press into the flesh, absorbing their warmth and savoring the feeling of you. His precious reprieve. His sweetest escape.

Your nipples pebble from the cold and the heat of his hands hitting you all at once. Sighing, you tilt your head back and allow the tension in your shoulders to melt away for now. The same slender fingers that whip a pen around with ease tweak and pinch at the hardened buds until you're whimpering.

After he's satisfied his interest, he lets them go and then removes your bottoms. The button comes undone and the zipper follows. He slides the garment down your legs. To aid him, you step out of it and kick the bundle of cloth aside to sit with your shirt. The move earns you a light pinch to your hip.

"Dolls don't move," he whispers and nips at the skin of your neck, teasing a potential love bite, "They don't do anything on their own. You leave everything up to me."

The words send a chill down your spine. "Sorry, Light," you say softly.

"They don't talk either," he says and kisses up your neck, "They stay quiet and still. Just a good girl for me to play with."

You sink back into him upon hearing that because it's exactly what you want. All you desire is to be good for him. To be the thing he wants to play with. The one he uses to feel safe when everything else is one minute away from spiraling out of control. 

He strips you of your own socks and shoes. You're only left in the dainty panties you arrived in, but he ends up taking those too. He drags them off your legs - you stand completely motionless this time, letting him lift each limb to free you of the underwear. After he shoves them in his pocket, it's time to dress you in your new attire.

He picks up the elegant black dress and steps you into it before shimmying the cloth up your body. Slipping each of your arms into the sleeves, he then zips up the back. The fabric clings to your curves, highlighting your figure in a flattering shape. He rakes his fingers up the dark material, feeling it move with his digits.

Next, he sits on the bed. Even now, Light wouldn't crouch or get on his knees for you. He perches on the edge of the mattress and pulls you onto his lap again. Taking one of your legs behind the knee, he bends it up so your foot rests on his thigh. He grabs one of the heels nearby and unfastens the buckle. Sliding your foot into the sole, he clasps in place again and then repeats the process with your other.

Finally, he stands you up and walks you over to the mirror. The feeling of his eyes moving over your body in the new dress and shoes is palpable. His hands stretch across your belly while he holds you there for his appraisal.

Looking at your own appearance, the image standing before your eyes pleases you. The dress fits perfectly, and the shoes gleam beneath them just right. You look like his. Feel like it too with the way his arms cage you against him.

"You look beautiful. Don't you think?" he says.

You wonder if this is a trick or if you're supposed to know how to answer without moving or speaking. But before you can dwell too much on this, he cups your jaw and squishes your cheeks. His hand propels your head up and down in a little nod.

"That's my girl," he praises, smile absolutely sinister across his face.

Even though you didn't do anything to earn that praise, it makes you swoon all the same. His. Maybe it wasn't just a feeling, maybe it was closer to being real. As long as you showed him that you could be good, that you could listen, he would see that you're the better fit for him.

He pulls a chair up in front of the reflective pane and sits down, perching you on his thigh once more. The side table sitting next to the mirror held another bag like the one your outfit came from. This one was much smaller but still chic looking.

Light reaches for it and fetches a few small items from within. On your lap he places a compact of powders, a tube of lip gloss, some mascara, and a few brushes.

"I want those to stay right where I put them. Knock them off, and I won't give you anything else," he warns.

You don't say or do anything, not even a nod. This pleases him, and he pecks your cheek.

Never did you think you'd see the day where Light did your make up. But here you sit in his lap, obediently calm as he brushed dark powder across your lids and coated your lashes in mascara. You open when he says open, close when he directs as much. You hold your position like a statue as he glosses over your lips and swipes away any excess with his thumb.

Watching you sit there without a move or a word has his cock stiffening up beneath you. You're following everything he says down to the letter, treating him with the respect he deserves. He can't get enough. If he wanted your head to be empty, it would be. You'd sit on his lap or at his feet or wherever he fucking asked because the only thing you need is him, and that's so clear now.

When he's all done, he guides your face back in the direction of your reflection. Your eyes meet the pair looking back at you and then cast on the other version of him. He's staring right back.

"I knew you'd be perfect," he says.

You can feel his semi beneath your thighs. Knowing he's feeling worked up has your body responding in kind. You're still bare down there since he didn't bother replacing your panties. You can feel your folds becoming a little damp, but you still don't move, not a single squirm or whine.

He keeps you there, staring at you, taking in what he had made with your body. His hands roam over your curves, digging into your plush flesh.

"Your hair is pretty enough. I won't have to do anything with it tonight," he praises.

He then boosts you to your feet. His body doesn't follow right away. He takes a moment to stay behind in the chair, admiring your ass and leaning forward to hold your hips between his palms.

"Just look at you," he says.

Now he stands. He walks around you, leaving you in front of the mirror by yourself. He goes back to the bed and sits at the end.

"Come over here," he commands.

You suppose since it's an order that it's ok to move. Your first step is hesitant as you find your footing in the tall heels. It only takes you a couple seconds to get used to them though. You manage to walk the rest of the way with ease.

His cock hardens further as he watches you obey without question. You come to him like a well-trained pet. Exactly what he wants.

When you come to a stop in front of him, he pauses and takes a moment to think. He wanted you now. The urge to undo all his work, nearly insatiable. He tries to pace himself though.

"Do you feel pretty?" he asks you.

You hesitate, but he gives you a nod to speak. "Yeah," you answer.

"Yeah? Can you see your place at my side?" he asks, eyes raking over every detail of your form.

"Yeah."

"That's where you belong, hm?"

"Yeah," you say. It almost comes out a whisper.

He chuckles lowly before waving at you. "Come here."

You take the few remaining steps and close the distance between you two. His arms wrap around your waist and twirl you so you fall back on the bed. He climbs on top, grinding his growing bulge against your hip.

"That is where you belong. And that's where I'll keep you for the rest of our days," he mutters.

He leans down and engulfs your mouth in a flurry of kisses. His hands float across the dress, groping and squeezing your body. He doesn't silence the little whimpers and squeaks that come from you right now. Instead, his mouth drifts to your neck, making good on those love bites he teased earlier.

"You won't have to worry about anything, pet. No thoughts in that little head except being good for me," he mutters.

When he pulls back, his eyes are blown with lust. They focus on you with intensity so passionate it's almost frightening. He grabs your chin and holds you in place as he seemingly inspects your appearance once more.

"Fuck, how could anyone not want to worship you when you look like this?" he mumbles.

He rises back onto his knees, pushing down his fly and pulling his cock out. His fingers rise to fiddle with his shirt's buttons before he shrugs it off too. He doesn't bother with his pants beyond pushing them down enough so they're not in the way. Once his cock is available, he strokes it a few times and lets it fill out all the way.

The sight is enough to have more slick collecting between your thighs, which is fortunate since Light isn't the most patient. On his best days, he was needy for you. On his worst, he was inconsiderate. Right now seems to be a mix of both.

Reaching out, he grabs your thighs and yanks you down the bed to him. Your dress bunches at your hips as it catches between your back and the sheets. It works out since he pushes it up the rest of the way.

Seeing you in the outfit he chose, the shoes he bought, with nothing underneath strokes his ego in a way he can't explain. You being exposed now, no barriers keeping you from him just makes it worse. It brings to mind visions of a future where he could have you whenever he wanted. You'd exist for him, easily accessible, his for the taking. And he'd take advantage of it every moment he could.

He slots his cock at your entrance, rocking forward at first and gathering some of your wetness on it. After seeing the glisten of you on his tip, he rotates himself so he's at the right spot to push in. Your tight hole accepts his shaft inch by inch, clamping around him from the first seconds.

You whine as he splits you open, now squirming beneath his body, unable to stay still.

"Feels too good? My little dolly can't hold herself together anymore?" he taunts breathily.

You shake your head in response, and he laughs. It only encourages him to shove more in.

He has you completely full moments later, hips flush against your center as deep as he can go. You don't get any time to adjust with Light. He wants to fuck now, so that's what you're doing. Along with no talking or moving, you're pretty sure dolls don't get a say on this matter either.

More needy sounds pour from your lips, but he still doesn't get on you for it. It drives his confidence through the roof seeing that someone as well-behaved as you couldn't manage anymore when he slid inside.

His hips push and pull, slamming in and out of your cunt with a steady rhythm. He lifts your legs to sit over his shoulders. The heels he bought and paid for and had fantasized about you in for weeks bobble by his head. He grits his teeth as the pure satisfaction from the thought flows through him.

"Everyone will worship you, and you'll worship me like the good girl you are," he moans more to himself than you as his hips speed up a bit.

You get so tight for him when he talks that he can't stop. Words just keep leaking out in an endless stream.

"Gonna fuck you like this everyday. Put you in new pretty outfits and then bend you over in 'em. Make sure you remember you're mine. Every inch of you, all for me," he grunts.

His thrusts get harder. You feel little tears pricking at your eyes from all the stimulation, but you can't cry. You can't ruin your makeup. Not when he'd been so careful with how he applied it. You sniffle and wipe at your waterline, but lucky for you, he doesn't seem to notice what you're trying to avoid.

"No one else can have you. No one else gets to know how good you feel or how obedient you are. You're the one for me, the one I'll keep," he mutters. The pleasure rushing throughout his body and fogging up his head makes half of it incoherent, but you eat it up anyways.

"Light!" you finally cry out and arch your back when his cock rams against the sweetest spot inside you, "I'm all yours. Swear. Don't want anybody else. Just you. Forever and ever and ever..."

You trail off as he fucks all the thoughts right out of your pretty little head. His body comes down on yours again, bending you in half and sliding against you as he works himself all the way inside over and over. You claw at the thin hotel bedding for some form of relief, but there's no escaping him.

Release builds in your tummy, your toes curl and your breaths become ragged. You know better than to finish without asking though.

"Can I cum, Light? Please, need it so so so bad," you beg, eyes still almost teary.

He looks down. A wave of lust crashes into him as he sees how your lip quivers and water rests at the edges of your eyes, waiting to spill.

"You have been so good for me," he says, wanting a bit more pleading out of you before he gives his permission.

"Mhm! Please. I'll keep being good. Just gotta cum cause you make me feel so good," you whine.

He grins and ruts forward particularly hard. "Go ahead then."

And you do. You cum so hard you feel like your body is gonna twist into knots. You squirm and mewl, noises coming out unfiltered and unrestrained. Your vision goes spotty, and all that's left is him. Him pummeling into you, panting above you, not stopping as you crest over the peak.

He grips onto you harder and keeps fucking you through it. His bangs fall across his eyes from all the movement. You're so warm and tight and wet as you release all over him that it only takes a few more strokes before he shoots his load inside you.

A needy moan seeps from his lips as he works it into you. He thrusts it deep inside, he didn't want any of it spilling out and making a mess on your new dress. At least not the first time the two of you did this.

After he finally pulls out, he lets your legs drop onto the bed. They bounce against the mattress that's too springy. Your chest puffs up and down from the exertion you just went through. After taking a few minutes to come down, you yawn and stretch, limbs sprawling outward to reach for him.

But you don't find him. You turn to see why that is and find his back facing you. He sits at the edge of the mattress hunched over - one of his hands clicks through his phone while the other runs through his sweaty hair. You're about to ask what's the matter, but he turns to you and answers that question himself.

"I have to go. There's a problem back at the apartment. Misa needs my help," he says and rises to his feet.

He straightens out his clothes and tries to make his hair look more presentable. You watch in disbelief. He wasn't even going to stay the night?

"But Light..." you say softly and sit up.

As if he can read your thoughts, he reaches out to pet your head.

"I'll see you again soon. It won't be like this for too much longer," he says. You can see the hesitation in his eyes before he makes his next move. He leans down and kisses your forehead. "Keep being good for me. My little doll."

Those are the last words he says before he leaves you there alone.

➼ “Blessing” [Baizhu x reader]

— You’d fallen hook, line, and sinker for Baizhu, but you were more than okay with it.

➼ “Close To Me” [Yandere Alhaitham x reader]

— You finally give into Alhaitham and fall right into his arms.

➼ “Wished For You” [Male Character x Reader]

— You saw the love he gave to another, and could only wish he would have done the same to you when you were together.

➼ “One Day” [Zhongli x reader] - (pt. 2) (alt. ending)

— You loved Zhongli, but he could never be yours.

➼ “Are You Mine Yet?” [Zhongli x reader] - (pt. 1) (alt. ending)

— You’re plagued by Hanahaki Disease because of your unrequited feelings for Zhongli, but there might still be a chance for you.

➼ “A Chance” [Alhaitham x reader] - (pt. 1) (pt.2)

— Alternative Ending: You move to Sumeru, leaving Zhongli and romance behind. Will it be that easy for you though?

➼ “You Might Be Sleeping” [Xiao x reader, Zhongli x reader]

— Xiao can’t be yours, not when your side is already occupied by another.

Honkai: Star Rail:

➼ “I want you” [Blade x reader]

— Your soul yearns for Blade, but does he feel the same?

➼ “Through Heaven and Hell” [Nanook x reader]

— Nanook being fond of you (headcanons)

➼ “Hurry Up Now, Darling” [Dan Heng x reader]

— Dan Heng’s been waiting for you for so long.

➼ “Why?” [Jing Yuan x reader]

— You realize Jing Yuan never loved you, but it’s too late.

➼ “Fade Into Me” [Lan x reader]

— Lan lets you braid their hair.

➼ “Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You, Baby” [Welt Yang x reader]

— Welt remembers his life with you.

Unwind Dystology:

➼ “A Sickly Sweet Home” [Connor Lassiter x reader]

— Connor only wishes to settle down after everything that went down, only this time, its with you.

➼ “The Trials of Time” [Roland Taggart x reader]

— You let Roland in during your time as an AWOL, but it only hurt you more than it helped.

➼ “Hopelessly In Love” [Connor Lassiter x reader]

— You don’t think Connor loves you, especially now that Risa showed up.

➼ “Soul Attraction” [Connor Lassiter x reader]

— You’re meant to be enemies, but Connor can’t help but feel something more than that, something he shouldn’t.

Jujutsu Kaisen:

➼ “Fool’s Gold” [Megumi Fushiguro x reader]

— You’ve lost Megumi, but now he’s lost you forever.

➼ “Second Best” [Yuji Itadori x reader]

— You were never Yuji’s first choice.

➼ “Worthless” [Sukuna x reader]

— You’re worthless in Sukuna’s eyes.

➼ “Long To Be Close To You” [Gojo Satoru x reader]

— You never really got to confess Gojo, but next time you see him, it isn’t right.

➼ “Idiot” [Gojo Satoru x female! reader]

— Gojo likes his women older, but you don’t like them younger. His next course of action is trying to woo his way out of the friendzone.

Record of Ragnarok:

➼ “Undeserving” [Poseidon x God! reader]

— You meet Poseidon, soon falling in love. Unluckily for you, he already has someone he adores.

Demon Slayer:

➼ “Another Lifetime” [Akaza x reader]

— You and Akaza are in love, but you can’t be together, not when the universe itself is against you.

Obey Me:

➼ “Reciprocate” [Lucifer x reader]

— Does Lucifer love you? That’s a question even Lucifer can’t answer.

Death Note:

➼ “Losing Dogs” [Light Yagami x reader]

— Laying eyes on Light was the worst decision you’d ever make.

Hunter x Hunter:

➼ “Back To Friends” [Kurapika Kurta x reader]

— Kurapika let you in once, now he expected you to leave.

Any Characters:

➼ “Please Please” [Male Character x reader]

— You love him so dearly, yet he thinks of you as nothing.

➼ “Hope To Be Yours” [Male Character x reader]

— He picks someone else over you, but you’re used to it.

➼ “Love Me” [Yandere Female Character x reader]

— She loved you first, so why were you with someone else?

➼ “Web of Lies” [Female Character x reader]

— You and her play a game of manipulation, but who’s really in charge?

➼ “Maybe” [Male Character x reader]

— You knew, no matter what, he would never choose you or love you.

➼ “Want Me Too” [Female Character x female! reader]

— You wished you were him.

➼ “Call Me Back” [Male Character x reader]

— It hurt to be something, but it was worse to be nothing. You choose the former.

Beings:

➼ “God’s Gift” [Yandere Archangel x Demon! reader]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Gap

❥Uh, he gets more jealous than you’d think. Like…his whole thing is he wants to be special to you…in his own strange way. Doesn’t like the thought of someone taking his place as a jokester to you. Also why he brings you things he’d think you like from time to time, just to make sure you still have that special place in your heart for him <3

❥Hates hate hates when you call him bad or not good. He’s good! He swears! Remember how he’s helped you before! Gets all frowny when you call him not good and then call someone else good. He’s good too! Guess he has to prove it, AGAIN. It’s honestly kind of endearing how he has no clue how he actually kind of does like you? But not exactly in a romantic way? It’s honestly hard to label his feelings towards you, so why should I?

❥I’d say he’s the second most jealous in this list of characters, watching on angrily as you praise someone that isn’t him. Be prepared for magazines and books galore when he’s in this mood, trying to prove his worth to you. Kind of strange for someone to try so hard when they claim to not like you…

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Silvair

❥Definitely the chillest one here. Doesn’t really get jealous at all :/ If anything, he finds it entertaining when you’re affectionate with others. Gives him more insight to his lab rats. Yes, he sees everyone as a lab rat. Idk, I can’t really see him get jealous.

❥Maybe…MAYBE if someone else tries doing research on you, or if Ms. Nurse treats you instead he’ll feel a bit off. Like…you’re his test subject, he knows you from the inside out…literally and not in the fun sense. Why would you go to someone who doesn’t know as much about you and how this world affects you? It’s very hard to spot his jealousy, doesn’t even notice it/recognize it himself. He just doesn’t want anyone to mess up his data…that’s all…totally.

❥In conclusion, not really jealous. Doesn’t feel like he needs to be. You’re ‘friends’, doctor and patient, mad scientist and lab rat not many others threaten that balance between you. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Chopped

❥Honestly…Mr. Chopped I’m kinda mixed on how he’d be. Like on one hand, I could totally see him getting jealous if you call others cute or pay too much attention to them. On the other…he could probably care less. He loves himself, you love him, why does he need to get jealous? It’s clear how much you like him with the way you pamper him. I mean we get so many examples where you’re affectionate to Mr. Crawling in front of Mr. Chopped and he doesn’t really bat an eye. 

❥Now, I can see if he gets a bit insecure he might get more jealous. Whether it be because Mr. Crawling pats your head or tucks you into bed, Mr. Chopped feels a bit sad. He’d like to tuck you in, you look so comfy. Might be just a bit pouty, eyeing you like a dissatisfied cat. Easily rectified with head pats or even cuddles. Gets side tracked from his jealousy as soon as you give him a sliver of attention honestly.

❥Mr. Chopped is fifty fifty when it comes to jealousy, but it’s never too bad. He’s pretty comfortable with what you both have and doesn’t really feel threatened by others. After all, you did call him cute.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Hugeface

❥I wouldn’t say he gets jealous? More possessive than anything. Like that scene when Mr. Machete stumbles into his little makeshift dollhouse that he made for you and gets all angry that he’s there. It’s more of a ‘you’re not supposed to be here, this is our playtime’ more than actual jealousy. Throws a little fit whenever someone messes up your playtime. Very accusatory lmao.

❥Does not like when you try to escape. Was he not providing enough for you? Were you unhappy? You’re not allowed to leave! You’re his cute human! He can’t just find another one y’know. Mr. Hugeface may be lenient if he sees you happier, you need enrichment after all. Feels extra happy if you come back on your own violation. 

❥The most childish out of all the characters on this list. Isn’t afraid to throw tantrums, will also punish you by putting you in a solid concrete cube if he’s really upset. Yeah…not the most healthy of relationships to have…BUT! I do think you could convince him to be a bit better…? Maybe? Only if you put enough work in communicating with him though. Maybe punish him in your own way like leaving for longer if he threatens to trap you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Scarletella

❥Uhhhhhhhhhhh. Top of the list when it comes to jealousy. Watches your every move with curiosity and spite. Why are you doing that to Mr. Crawling? Do it to him instead. Why do you look so happy braiding Mr. Chopped’s hair? Style his hair instead. Why are you looking so fondly amused at Mr. Gap? Don’t you find him amusing? You do like him, right? He likes you. He likes you a lot, and he thought he was enough…was he not?

❥Will stare through your skull. It is so intimidating. His smile? Strained, it makes your skin crawl. You have to make sure he doesn’t hurt your friends, he’s so close to snapping, but he knows that would upset you and that’s not his goal. So instead he stands ominously in the background, body staticing in and out while his hand clenches the handle of his umbrella. 

❥Not that easily mended. Likes to monopolize all your time and affection. Needs constant reassurance as well, he’s quite needy. If you like constant validation and no social life go for it, just don’t get too upset if he threatens your other monster friends…he can’t stand that you could like someone that wasn’t him.

Still, he can’t help but get a bit whiny when you return after a long day outside. On the days when you ask him to stay home, he becomes lonely and restless, waiting impatiently for you. He often lies on your bed with his head nestled on your pillow, inhaling your scent to soothe himself until he hears your footsteps approaching the front door.

The moment you step inside and praise him for being well-behaved, he lights up completely. Mr. Crawling has a serious praise kink, and it’s evident. Mr. Crawling is practically addicted to your praise; it’s like his own personal drug. The second you open your mouth and let a sweet, honeyed word slip out, he’s already trembling with delight. He reacts instantly, a visible shiver of pleasure rolling through his body, mouth going wide as he drinks in every syllable. It’s not just about the words themselves but the way you say them—soft and genuine, like you really mean it. It makes him feel so loved, so needed.

He can’t hide how badly he wants it, how desperate he is for your approval. Even the smallest bit of praise, like a simple "Good boy," can have him biting his lip, his breath hitching as if you’ve touched him in the most intimate way. The effect is almost comical; his face flushes, and he looks like he’s on cloud nine, squirming slightly like he can’t quite contain himself. He craves it so deeply that he actively seeks it out, doing whatever he can to earn your compliments. Of course he deserves a treat for his good behavior.

The treat he prefers most is one he chose himself. Nothing satisfies him more than when you settle into his lap and cockwarm him, taking him by surprise as you sink down onto his length. The sudden feeling of you enveloping him never fails to draw out a choked gasp, his hips twitching up instinctively as he tries to control himself. He loves this position more than anything—the closeness, the intimacy of it. He holds you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded, his arms wrapped tightly around you, clinging as if you might slip away if he lets go. He’s reluctant to release you unless you explicitly ask him to; he’d keep you there forever if he could.

He savors the way your body fits perfectly against his, the softness of your skin against his cooler touch. He buries his face into your neck, breathing in your scent, his lips grazing your pulse as he shudders at the feeling of your warmth surrounding his cock.

He tries so hard to stay still, knowing you need this quiet moment of comfort, but it’s almost impossible for him. His hips shift ever so slightly, his cock throbbing inside you, and he can’t help the tiny, desperate movements he makes, even if they’re unintentional.

He can’t keep his hands to himself either. His fingers are restless, wandering across your body like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you. He takes moments to worship you, pressing his lips to your collarbone, your shoulders, any spot he can reach. His kisses are soft but hungry, lips parting as he drags his tongue over your skin, tasting the salt of your sweat. He lets out a needy, broken moan as his hands cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples, feeling them harden under his touch. He’s inexperienced, a little clumsy with his movements, but the eagerness behind it is undeniable. He’s trying so hard to make you feel good, his breath coming out in hot, ragged pants as he watches your reactions intently.

It’s not always sexual, at least not in the way he intends. Sometimes he just wants to feel you, to savor the heat of your body pressed against his, to revel in the way your warmth spreads through him. He loves the sensation of your skin against his own, the soft give of your flesh under his fingertips. But he can’t help himself; even when he’s just trying to hold you, he ends up teasing you without realizing it. His hips roll up slightly, and he groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your chest. He’s so sensitive, so easily overwhelmed by the feeling of you wrapped around him, that every little movement you make drives him wild.

He’s not practiced or skilled, and it shows in the way he fumbles, his touches uncoordinated but full of raw desire. He pinches your nipples a little too hard, a whimper escaping his lips when he realizes it, but instead of pulling back, he leans in closer, mouthing at the swell of your breast like he’s making up for it. His hands grip your waist, fingers digging into your hips as he struggles to keep himself from thrusting up into you. It’s like he can’t decide if he wants to savor the moment or chase after more, and it leaves him caught in this desperate, needy place that only you can pull him out of.

When it comes to mutual masturbation, it’s a different kind of intimacy, one that he’s hesitant about at first but quickly grows to crave. He hates touching himself when he’s alone, but with you, it’s different. You’re right there with him, your hand entwined with his, guiding him through the motions. He watches you, excited and breathless, his own hand trembling as he mirrors your movements. There’s something incredibly intimate about the way you both touch yourselves together, a shared vulnerability that makes his heart race.

He loves it when you talk to him through it, whispering sweet nothings, telling him how good he looks, how well he’s doing. It makes the experience bearable—no, more than that—it makes it beautiful. He’s not embarrassed when he’s with you: he’s not self-conscious or insecure. He’s just caught up in the moment, in the way your bodies move together, the way your breath hitches and syncs up with his.

When your hand finds his, coaxing him to stroke himself while you do the same, he whimpers softly, his fingers twitching against your palm. It’s overwhelming for him, the sensation of his own touch combined with the sight of you doing the same. He can’t stop himself from moaning, a needy, broken sound that escapes his lips as he watches you, completely captivated by the sight. "Me like you." You might whisper, and it takes everything in him to comply, the combination of your voice and your gaze making his whole body tremble.

You can tell how much he loves it by the way he leans into you, pressing his forehead to your shoulder as he touches himself with your guidance, whimpering in between. He’s panting, mouth open, like he’s too lost in the pleasure to look at anything else. The moment you reach out and wrap your hand around his, helping him stroke himself, he lets out a desperate moan, his entire body shivering as he clutches onto you. He’s a mess, but he’s your mess, completely undone by the shared pleasure and the feeling of your touch.

Mr. Crawling can be so eager when it comes to pleasuring you in return, that it borders on frantic. He doesn’t always take his time—sometimes, when he’s overwhelmed with excitement and craving you desperately, all of his usual patience flies out the window. He’ll drop between your legs, pulling you closer with a roughness that’s uncharacteristic for him, but it’s not out of aggression: it’s pure, unfiltered need. His hands are trembling as they grip your thighs, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. He’s already panting, like he can’t believe you’re letting him do this, and it makes him that much more impatient.

He dives in without hesitation, his mouth pressing against you hungrily, almost clumsily, as if he can’t bear to wait a second longer. His tongue flicks out, sloppy and uncoordinated at first, but it’s the urgency behind it that makes it so intoxicating. He’s lapping at you like a man starved, the sounds he makes—soft whimpers and desperate groans—filling the room. He’s inexperienced, but there’s something endearing about the way he tries so hard, so eager to please you even if he’s not entirely sure what he’s doing. He’s guided more by instinct than skill, following your reactions like they’re the only thing that matters.

He keeps glancing up at you, his face excited and yet almost pleading, as if he’s searching for reassurance that he’s doing it right. When he sees your pleasure written across your face, it only spurs him on. He loses himself in it, licking at you with a feverish intensity that makes it clear just how badly he needs this. He doesn’t bother with precision: he’s messy, licking you with broad, hurried strokes, his lips sucking at your clit with a desperate fervor. He moans into you, the vibrations sending little shocks of pleasure through your body, and you can tell he’s getting off on this as much as you are.

His grip on your thighs is almost bruising, like he’s afraid you might pull away. He’s whimpering into you, his tongue moving erratically, like he’s trying everything at once, too caught up in his own excitement to settle into any kind of rhythm. It’s overwhelming for him—the taste of you, the feel of your skin under his hands, the sounds you make when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. He’s panting between licks, his mouth never straying far from you, desperate to keep going even when he’s gasping for breath.

He’s a little too rough at times, sucking at your clit with a bit too much pressure, but the enthusiasm in his actions makes it hard to fault him for it. He’s learning from your reactions, his own inexperience showing through in the way he fumbles a bit, but it only adds to the intensity of the moment. When you tug on his hair, moaning out his name, he practically whines, grinding his face into you with renewed fervor. He’s almost overwhelmed by his own need, licking and sucking like he can’t get enough, like he’s trying to memorize every part of you with his mouth.

If you try to guide him, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging gently to slow him down, he lets out a frustrated, needy sound, shaking his head as if to tell you he doesn’t want to stop, doesn’t want to pace himself. He’s too lost in the moment, too eager to please, to care about taking his time. He’s devouring you like he’s afraid this is his only chance, like he’s desperate to prove how much he wants you, how much he loves being here, between your legs, giving you everything he can.