(A/N: Warning because my breeding kink went brrrrrrrrrrrr.)
Two things.
First of all, Muzan probably, most likely, very certainly just ate his naysayers.
There was nothing that stopped him given his strength and position, after all.
You were not prepared to be eaten alive, and suddenly, you considered spilling all the beans that Douma had laid out for you.
Second of all, Mrs. Kibutsuji?
Although you had been married to your husband for over a month, you had never been referred to by your husband's surname.
Yet, these simple things, especially when coming from your husband himself, made your heart flutter unexpectedly.
"Whatever your answer is, don't hurt me," you quietly pled to Muzan's original question.
Your husband slowly scanned your face, biting his inner cheek as he did.
You looked so soft, so kissable.
Your puffy lips, your small pout, your breathy voice.
When you also stared at the man with your big doe eyes that shone from the starlight, Muzan had to will every ounce of his body to not immediately rip your robe off and start fucking you like the depraved animal that he truly was.
Stop.
He needed to stop. He needed to control himself.
But stopping was the very last thing that the demon king could do.
How could he "stop" when he must show this misbehaving young lady exactly who was in control, when he clearly needed to discipline his disobedient wife?
With a smirk, your husband leaned into the sensitive area behind your ear, biting down gently with his sharp fangs.
"Hm, how should I drag these answers out of you?" Muzan thought aloud, the purr in his voice sending sharp shivers down your body.
Using his lips, your husband created a trail of feather-like touches that led to the crook of your neck, breath tickling hotly against your sensitive skin a split second before his lips do.
It was a strange sensation, really.
The kisses were as hot as boiling water but somehow so indescribably cool at his sweet admiration.
"Why don't you tell me?" the man then hummed by your collarbone. "Tell me what you're hiding from me."
You unexpectedly stuck out your tongue, the inner brat inside of you revealing itself.
"As if. I won't tell you," you built the courage to taunt only for your husband to shut down that bravery just as quickly.
At your defiance, Muzan's light kisses suddenly turned to rough ones as he relentlessly sucked at your skin, teasingly brushing his canines against your neck, chuckling against you when a pathetic whimper left your lips.
Your hands landed on your husband's shoulders as you tried to push him off, but you immediately abandoned the operation when you were too occupied by the bursts of pleasure both from your husband's actions at your neck and the heat that built at your centers.
When Muzan finally detached from you, a sideways glance at the nearby mirror allowed you to see the large, purple-red markings that he had visibly left.
As your fingers flew up to your neck and gently rubbed the bruised spots, your eyes doubled in size.
Were these...hickies?!
Hickies that were etched right into the most visible area of your body?
Nearly anyone could see the coloring from miles away, and you were not sure if you could casually cover that spot on your neck in public.
"That's my mark on you," Muzan hissed in satisfaction as he admired his artwork in a rare state of adoration. "If I could, I would tattoo my name inside of you, outside of you, fucking everywhere."
At this point, Muzan couldn't help it anymore.
Even if his eyes slipped closed for half a second too long, Muzan couldn't stop imagining you grind your folds along his cock, tits then bouncing when he would slip himself inside your slicked pussy.
"Let them know," he growled. "Let everyone know that you're mine because I'm tired of whoever the fuck is always trying to take you away."
Then, he remembered.
"I'm also tired of you not cooperating, miss." His breath was heavy as his self-control seemed to thin with every passing second. "Explain. First, you talk about human flesh then you don't want to share a room with your husband?"
When you attempted to look away, Muzan lightly held your chin and you could feel the labored rise and fall of his chest that signaled his growing ire.
"Oh. right. Then, what the hell was it about babies? "
Your heart sputtered.
Although you pretended to had never mention anything about babies, he heard you.
Of course, he did.
Your husband possessed superhuman powers, and you were stupid to assume that playing dumb earlier would get you far.
"If you want a baby, just tell me," he chortled.
This time, your heart stopped for the briefest moment as Muzan traced down the side of your body so that he could gently rub the side of your stomach.
"That is, if I haven't gotten you pregnant already."
Pregnant with half-demon half-human babies, you realized as thoughts quickly flashed in your mind.
As strange and perhaps ridiculous it seemed, what if your dream was true?
That your body would deteriorate inside out if carrying Muzan's child?
"You can't get me pregnant," you braved, careful to not anger the short-tempered demon.
Too late.
The moment you finished your sentence, there was already a chamber of hot and molten lava ready to spew from his glowing eyes.
"Yes, I totally can," he retorted.
His gaze was sharp and unforgiving, ready to ruin your entirety because if looks could kill, you'd be dead in two-sevenths of a millisecond.
"As long as you're keeping your mouth shut about whatever you're hiding from me," Muzan continued, placing his warm hands at your hips. "I'll make sure that I'll get you pregnant tonight, that we don't finish until you're stuffed full of my babies."
He pulled his shoulders back to appear slightly larger against your smaller frame. "What, are you challenging me?"
You should say no.
In this situation, agreeing to Muzan's little contest was as good as consenting to a death wish.
He was giving you a choice, so just deny, right? Just—
"I dislike repeating myself," Muzan suddenly warned.
Flinching at the tone of the demon lord's voice, you blurted out, "Yes."
Wait.
You must take it back, say that you changed your mind. Why were you so pathetic?
Squeezing your closed eyes hard, you sought an escape from the situation.
"I..." you started, lips trembling ever so slightly, but your voice trails off.
Your mind was blank.
Because, as risky as it was, you secretly loved the idea of testing and provoking your husband, bringing him on edge so that he would be as desperate for you as you were for him.
When you opened one cautious eye, you knew that demon king who you sat on also made his decision.
Muzan's stare pinned you down like he was a man painfully drying out in the Sahara, and you were the last lick of water.
Tugging at your robe, he smirked, and the small curve of his mouth was a sorry attempt at hiding the devil in his eyes.
"I'll make sure that you're a mommy by the morning."
Rate your week on a scale of 1-10!
I'm at a 7 because of my internship, but it ends soon!
next update: next friday