#murder implication tw

[bellamychevasym]

Bird. Curious sort of description. Even as aasimar her dark wings had been leathery, but she supposed he meant more metaphorically. A wounded bird, wings clipped to prevent her from flying. Cruel. Such cruelity seemed to follow through each of his words, not only insisting upon her greatest loss but of her sire's 'bad decision' of choosing her. The first could wound. The second was simply amusing.

The small shift to her expression as she heard it showed so, her pink lips rising on one side, only to fall back down. Not to mention the lack of reaction from her wolves that proceeded her own steps, each simply taking their place on the inner side of the door, one with is dark silken fur as stoic as Bella, while the other with it's coarse and mottled brown fur seemed to match Derya's energy, tense and ready.

"I think the wind might be catching your scent," Bella asserted as she stopped just behind them, her long black gown quite modest, covering her throat and the full length of her arms, over even her hands, and down legs so it dragged on the ground, even as it seemed to cling to her, though as she had walked into the light through the door it appeared to shift like she was covered with crawling spiders. In truth it had been embroidered with moon silk so that it reflected only when starlight touched it, the subtle movements of her person appearing like the embroidered spiders crawled across her. "Because I smell of success and irises," the woman responded, gaze unshifting in a way that no doubt seemed familiar.

Valentin's influence had swayed her in her infancy as a vampire, but even as a High Priestess before her express had been stoic unless emotion took hold of her. It was perhaps a look he had seen well before his arrival to the St John's estate in Destarin. When travelling through Withermore, within the forests. Certainly his own eyes seemed similar to a monster within the forest, one that devoured and her influence had never had much charge over. It left her curious, face shifting momentarily and one of her feet stepping forward between her wolves so she might get a better look at him.

Bella would never have begrudged any beast within the woods the chance to dine on any monster that had been in her company. Vampires were a kindness compared to the royals of Withermore.

"None of us fetch, however," she continued with soft brush of her long dark hair away from her shoulder, the backs of her fingers spreading the strands to waft her scent over him. She did smell of lilacs, and of grapefruit and cedar and...aldehyde. A synthetic. Valentin had made the scent she wore and Bella imagined if someone were close to Valentin they'd know he had.

"And to burn this place to the ground would take hours, by then the sun would have risen, and you would be dead with us," Bella countered, her eyes still curious observing him, trying to place a face she had never seen but eyes that had penetrated in the woods. If only she could feel his mind, but that was an ability lost when she was turned.

Her other foot joining the first, though none had stepped over the boundary of the building - none were so stupid. "That's if you don't get hungry."

Bella couldn't tell when he'd fed but she knew there would be someone around the estate that Valentin was using to either dine on himself or for experiments that she could slaughter to bring in out in him, to taunt his hunger until he conceded. Valentin could not go one day without a meal, she wondered how long the stranger in front of her might go, especially if he was so desperate for entrance.

"So, perhaps, to avoid a wasted evening, you might suggest a more convincing reason I should allow you entrance to the home of my paramour and myself." It was not on her to decide who could and could not see Valentin but she doubted her sire would allow entrance to someone Bella had deemed she did not want access to her, especially in light of all the deaths in Destarin as of late. "Surely you came for a purpose."

Love Nest, Funeral Pyre

(Starter with @bellamychevasym) Doran liked doors. They made people feel safe. As if wood and locks were anything more than hopeful gestures. He tapped once. Then twice. Then again, harder, because rhythm mattered and he was feeling theatrical. The wind howled behind him, and he imagined it as applause.

The door opened a crack.

“Miss Fishbait,” he crooned, lips stretching into something not quite a smile. “Still playing clerk to our favorite philosopher-leech.”

Derya. Still sharp. Still precise. Still giving him that disapproving schoolmistress look that made him want to track mud through her entire sterile little world.

“You’re not coming in,” she said.

No ‘hello’? No ‘you haven’t aged a day’? Rude.

He glanced at the threshold. Ancient rules, older than either of them. Even the curse hadn’t stripped those away. 

“No,” he said, with mock sorrow. “No, I’m not. But I will say it’s deeply offensive that after everything, you still remember the rules. Wound me, darling.”

“You don’t get to call me that.”

“And yet…”

“Valentin’s not here.”

He nearly laughed. She lied like someone who hated having to. Voice too clipped. Spine too stiff. Fingers twitching like she wanted to jab a needle through his eye socket and twist. Doran loved that she hated him. He loved that she didn’t pretend otherwise.

“Oh, that’s interesting,” he pouted, tongue clicking. “Because you only lie like that when you’re about to tranquilize something.”

Derya’s fingers were already twitching toward whatever cocktail she kept tucked in her belt.

“Oh, I know,” he cooed. “You’re terrifying. That’s why I like you.”

And he did. He really did. If he hadn’t been cursed to rot everything he touched, maybe he’d have tried turning her once. Just to see if she’d bite back.

His hand dipped into his coat. She tensed. Good.

“Relax,” Doran murmured, retrieving a dented silver flask, ancient and well-loved. “Not that kind of surprise.”

He uncorked it with his teeth. The whiskey reeked of old gods and older promises. He poured a line of it across the threshold, slow and deliberate, letting it soak the wood.

“Let me in,” he said mildly, watching the amber vanish into scent. “Or I turn this charming little love nest into a bonfire.”

From his inner pocket, Doran withdrew a single match. Running it across the doorframe with a hiss, a flame bloomed to life.

“If I can’t walk in,” he added, the light dancing in his too-wide eyes, “you’re coming out.”

He didn’t bluff. Not these days. He hadn’t lied since he lost the ability to taste regret.

Behind Derya, he heard the softest of sounds. The brush of footfall.

Not Valentin. Too light.

He didn’t need to look. But he did anyway.

And there she was.

Her.

Bellamy.

All softness and secrets and something new clinging to her like perfume. She hadn’t spoken, but she didn’t need to. The wolves came first—two of them, hulking and silver-eyed, flanking her with the unthinking grace of things born to protect. Doran’s gaze flicked to them, then back to her.

“Oh,” he said, grinning slow and wide. “Well, well. What do we have here?”

His gaze dragged over Bellamy. Head to toe, toe to heart.

“You must be her. The bird. Smells like Valentin’s blood and bad decisions. Gods, he went soft, didn’t he?”

He almost sounded amused. Almost. But beneath it was something hollow. He used to know what Valentin’s blood smelled like. He used to hear his voice in the dark. Now he only got echoes.

“And you brought puppies,” he added, smile curving into something wicked. “Adorable. Tell me. Do they fetch, or just maul?”

He turned the match slowly in his fingers. The flame danced.

“Be a dear,” he said, eyes still on the girl, “and fetch your alchemist. Or let me in and I’ll find him myself.”

[miraclecherryblossomsblog]

Yandere Jin woo brainrot

TW: yandere themes, bit solo leveling spoilers, kidnapping, jerking off mention, possessiveness, muder implication, manipulation mention yall let me know for anything i missed

Ok wanna join on the yandere potential jin woo has cuz ya'll so right and should say it full with ur chest-

I get it. Making jin woo possessive is hot and yeah! He would definitely he would be a possessive type and I can see him not even flickering a finger when it comes to kidnapping his darling. Probably the easiest kidnapping ngl feel darling would take a sole minute to realize the oh-so-late the situation they're in

or mabey there isn't a need to kidnap them cuz my guy got thousands of eyes around, its impossible to miss darling by a beat and besides feel like he's the type of yandere that doesn't affect darling's life that much other than him being a maniac simp (killing for beloved way i mean)

I can see both scenarios but....

What I don't see is for him being aggressive to darling...even when confronting them I feel like he wouldn't be angry....like if darling's crying or confused on what's happening Jin woo would certainly comfort and coo at them, I can definitely see him being outright screaming ur heart out to anyone else

Ya'll remember that jin woo became who he was for the sake of protecting his family right? That including their happiness as well. Yeah he wanna keep them forever and ever and only make darling look no one else but him-

but seeing darling sad and loosing that shine in their eyes they once had after taking them by force.....i can see that affecting him because even so the system forced him to become a lethal weapon doesn't mean that he becomes immune to sadness or hurt (ya'll remember how he cried as his dad vanished like????? OUCH???? TF??????)

Feel like he would manipulate darling into making them believe that their asshole coworker's probably just on vacation or maybe he quitted and got another job.....yeah that gotta be

pretty sure he gotta have a photo book(?) of u somewhere, most of the pics are u doing normal stuff or u just asleep drooling on a table or something lol.

Would he be like bit of a pervert too? I can defenitely see him having higher horny level, specialy after getting with his darling WITH CONSENT CUZ CONSENT'S HOT U GUYS JIN WOO STILL A GENTELMAN (even tho i can def see him jerking off with his nose on one of ur clothing pieces ANDAOOP-)

lmao like those moments where the character goes "let's fuck" with the most serious face and the other's like "HUH???like right NOW???????" JDUISFPIUAOEUGRBEPIGBARBGPB

He loves darling so much, he wants to see them smile, tease them until their face runs hot, maybe annoy them a bit and see their cute lips turn into a pout have fun and enjoy their lives together as they grow old.....

yandere shadow monarch's scary as fuck to anyone human or not, but to his family and to you he is nothing but their jin woo who worked hard af to get the power to protect those he loves

[madmanwonder]

type prompt

Jin was walking back home, when he opened he find Xiaoyu preparing food for him and holding a bloodied knife.

Jin: Xiaoyu…

Xiaoyu: Yes Jin?

Jin: Whose blood is that on the knife?

Xiaoyu: It chicken blood.

Jin: Chicken blood.

Xiaoyu: Yep. Chicken blood and not some random floozies blood.

Jin:

[veronicalodgeswitch]

private | hiram & veronica

Daddy. He broke Archer's arm. His pathetic excuse for a father broke his arm. Not recently - a couple years ago, but still. He's a violent threat who contributes nothing to society and I want him eliminated. If that's not possible, then at least, I want him blackmailed and scared shitless into never daring to make any contact with Archer again. Tell me we can make this happen, and then tell me what you need from me if anything. @mayorlodge

[isegmenti]

Oops! Looks like Bambino broke his newest toy.

He doesn't seem at all upset though.

Now he's gotta clean up the mess he made.

[kigendragon]

The In Between

Part ||

She couldn't wait around. There was no telling what Chaos was up to, what Gaudium as a whole was up to in Wonderland. And with the portal open on Earth, well, that was a whole new hellish situation. She paced the cell, before looking at the officer guarding her cell.

He was oddly still, and after a moment, it was clear he had fallen asleep.

Each guard held the key to the cell they guarded. It was meant to make sure that one person couldn't be taken out, and then there would be access to all cells. However, she hoped she could maybe sneak the key off of him.

She stood at the thick bars, checking what kind of view the other guards possibly had.

After observing them all for a minute or so, she established that if her movements were small enough, she stood a chance of getting the key through the bar.

Unfortunately, the Major General who was typically assigned to deal with the people who wound up here had decided to pay a visit, her only signal of his arrival being the sound of a gun being fired echoing down the hall and through each cell, and the pain that seemed to surge throughout her hand as she screamed out, pulling her hand back through the bars and holding it close to her.

The guard ordered to watch her cell was reprimanded by a Colonel that accompanied the Major General, who retrieved the key, and opened the cell, grabbing her and having his subordinates restrain her before he grabbed her arm and began walking.

"You're quite the problem child, Duchess," he stated, remaining nonchalant, uncaring to the damage he had just done to her hand.

"Good," she replied, her tone laced with a venom that the man hadn't expected.

His grip tightened, sure to bruise her arm if he kept that up. She winced slightly, her hand still bleeding.

She glanced back, trying to see her hands, but the cuffs made this impossible.

"Calm down, I'm sure you've already been informed that we can't kill you. You'll get better treatment than the others here," the Major General stated, only earning a scoff in response. "Keep that up and we're still gonna have to be rough with you."

"Shooting me in the hand isn't fucking rough?"

"You know good and well that that is nothing for us in here. So just cooperate," he demanded, before reaching their destination, which appeared to be some semblance of a prison's medical 'ward'.

The man there turned, and seemed to immediately understand his task, getting her to an examination table, getting the Major General to remove her injured hand from the restraints. The Major General took no chances though, making sure her other arm was secured, and that she couldn't make any sudden movements with her legs and the arm on the injured side.

Lisa still struggled, she always would, but she didn't have much mobility in her right hand to try and escape, especially with the pain radiating as the medic worked. Eventually, after what felt like entirely too long, it was deemed that she would be alright, but she would lose some function of that hand. Even if it fully healed, it was likely that that hand wouldn't function as normal anymore.

It was then that she was restrained again to the Major General's liking, and she was removed from the medic's care, down a separate hall.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Somewhere where you won't be the one asking the questions," he replied.

Sure enough, she was brought into a small room, without much lighting, and one other officer.

Eventually she was sat down, questioned about whether or not she gave information to anyone in Wonderland, whether or not she had intentionally opened the portal, the reason for its creation, and even if she had any plans to get rid of her father.

She tried to be defiant, not answering their questions. This resulted in consequences, something she expected, but it wasn't like anyone could truly be prepared for. She had training to resist whatever they might do, she had acted as a spy for C2 after all, and got training similar to the men in front of her for this situation exactly, but it didn't make things easy, or bearable.

⋆｡ ☁︎☾｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☀︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ

Lisa was brought into a small room, her hands bound, and her ankles as well. It was then that her wrists were bound above her head in the room, her movement restricted to turning in place, although there wasn't much to observe.

The room was bare, and freezing cold, enough to make even those used to the cold shiver, and teeth chatter.

"Is this your plan? Just hanging me here?" Lisa asked, although eventually this would be fairly effective for discomfort if they left her there long enough...

But instead, the Major General laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, no, of course not, Your Highness," he stated, using the title mockingly. "No, my intentions aren't to simply let you hang there like some butcher's meat in this cold, but I suppose what I intend is worse for you."

With that, he left the room, and Lisa found herself trying to observe what little surroundings there were.

So far, it was just her, the bar she was restrained to above her head, as well as others at different levels in the room, and the cameras in the corners, one corner having a speaker rather than a camera.

"Get comfy, Duchess, and let me know when you want to be more cooperative," a voice stated over the speaker, and she frowned.

Something wasn't right... It couldn't be just this-

Darkness. The entire room was plunged into pitch black. Even if she could've moved her hands, she wouldn't be able to see them to do anything... She tried to remain calm, knowing if she panicked now that it would be far worse later...

⋆｡ ☁︎☾｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☀︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ

"Let me out of here!!"

The lights were blinding as they came on, the lack of light making what little was present seem like too much, and leaving her hardly able to see. "There was something here... I heard it," she muttered, finding herself trying to look around for what little she could see.

"I bet you did," The Major General mocked, getting her down, letting her fall to the ground as her weight was suddenly on her legs once more for what had felt like an eternity, but was really only a few days.

"C'mon, we're gonna try this again," he stated, grabbing her arm roughly, her skin cold at the touch as he began dragging her to the interrogation room again, and, when it was evident she still wouldn't answer them, they turned to other means, depriving her of sleep, overloading her senses to keep her awake for however long they wished to do so, among other methods of... interrogation.

⋆｡ ☁︎☾｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☀︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ

This pattern of events continued for nearly three months, before she finally got her chance to escape, all thanks to another prisoner acting out. As her guard had gotten up, the key to the cell clattered to the ground, he and everyone else too focused on the prisoner to notice her frantically unlocking her cell, and standing at the other hallway.

Everything they had done seemed to bubble up inside her as she stared down the hall, and towards the exit.

It's been right there... It's been so close this whole time...

Her palms erupted with flames, the heat radiating from the small amount of fire she had just created.

The fire began to catch their attention, the other prisoner barely managing to get away due to this.

"Don't do anything rash here, you don't stand a chance, just stand down," One guard stated, but she merely shook her head, her expression dripping with anger, and disgust for the men in front of her.

"No... I don't think you understand the position you've landed yourselves in," she stated angrily, her heart pounding as she raised her hands slowly. "Drop your keys, and kick them to me. Now."

"You have no position of power here, get down on your knees, now, Your Highness!"

"Your Highness, get down, or you'll be forcing our hand!"

"You don't get it... You really aren't going to let me or anyone else through?"

"We've been given orders not to-"

"Then burn."

Fire engulfed the small hallway, prisoners reeling back from the bars of the cells, various yells to be freed and out of shock erupted as she stumbled down the hall way, the guards rushing out with various levels of burns across their bodies, along with one who remained behind, groaning on the cold floor of the hall.

She grabbed the still burning hot keys, ignoring the searing feeling at her fingertips. She went around to each cell, releasing the other prisoners, and apologizing softly to them for whatever they had been through.

She then began to exit the prison herself, wincing and squinting at the bright light of the sun she was met with as they escaped the secret entrance to the prison.

She turned to the group of rejoicing prisoners. "Get out of here. Now. Get out of Russia. As far as you can go. Europe is most likely your best bet. Somewhere the Tzar and his men won't look for you. And don't use normal means to get back in touch with your families, they could track you that way. Get protection for yourselves if you can," she told them sternly, most of them running off in a group, one of them pausing briefly.

"What about you?"

"I have things I have to handle. But don't worry, I'll be leaving very soon," she responded, the other prisoner running, while she went towards the palace itself.

Despite her disorientation, she was able to sneak in, making herself a bag of things she wanted to bring with her.

She then grabbed a few bottles of her father's alcohol, dousing some areas upstairs in the alcohol, and then setting fire to the trail she had made.

Then, Lisa moved downstairs as many of the palace staff were evacuating, and she did the same to the downstairs areas of the palace. When she was satisfied with the destruction of the palace, knowing that it would be irreversible, she exited the same way the palace workers evacuated, her hands remaining engulfed in flames.

"Get out of my way."

Her voice was cold and had a harshness that was unrecognizable to her usual tone of speaking.

"Lisa, Your Highness, I thought-"

"I... Said.... Move, Mila."

Her chest heaved with heavy, angered breaths, and fortunately they all moved, even the few guards present not daring to interfere, allowing her to pass by, and head towards the portal she had opened over three months prior...

[beyuji]

✏️ (i forget if i sent you one from joomi yet or not)

< now playing: no body, no crime (feat. haim) by taylor swift > cw: blood, murder mention, violence, corpse mention.

there's an eerie sense of calmness to her.

part of yuji blames the water, the waves around them soothing despite the creaking of the boat, the sound of joomi's sniffling. if only it were raining, it'd make a bit of a beautiful atmosphere.

not counting the corpse laying in the cockpit. or the blood smears smattered around them. yuji's ignoring it. she's good at that.

the boat comes to a stop, and yuji sets about turning it off, so they're sitting stagnant and silent in the water. land and hours out in the distance, but far enough away for privacy. that's all they need really.

"joomi," she calls out quietly, stepping from the steering wheel and peering towards where joomi is sitting. he looks better, less hysteric. more numb, than anything else. it's a nice change, a welcome one. it's easier to get the harder part of this all done and over with. "can you help me lift it?" she steps by the corpse and kneels down. it doesn't look like much of a person anymore.

an accident, joomi had proclaimed. i didn't mean to, it was an accident.

and yuji believes him. is determined to believe him. it doesn't matter if it's true or false, she has reason enough to believe. his wallowing is enough, the obvious guilt and shock of killing someone answer enough for her.

"we just need to lift the body into the water and we can get out of here." she coaxes, going to try a first attempt at doing herself. it's hard, the body twice her weight, the added dead weight being more of a struggle than she anticipated.

it's a couple minutes of coaxing, but finally they're both angling the body up and over the edge, the drop of it hitting the water feeling both relieving and despairing at the same time. no turning back.

[blackkatdraws2]

YITUR. KALLITU.

[ORV] (TW: Implications of SA, Non-consenting Pregnancy, Abuse)

"I was scared. What if I gave birth to a monster? What if my child ate me? One day, suddenly tearing out of my belly and killing me." "I was alone for countless nights, ran away and avoided monsters while feeling worried. What should I do about this child? Should I kill it, let it live, or…" - Chapter 251: Episode 47 – Demon King Selection (5)

BAH, BLASTED LINEART. HOW COME YOU LOOK BETTER, HUH?!

[Yapping Time:]

THIS WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS.

(TW: SA/Rape (analogy), Non-consenting Pregnancy, (Child) Abuse)

Hiiii it's time for me to make a serious character essay again about a silly corporate shit man that canonically birthed a child and became a mum, hellooo /silly

Chapter 1: Episode 1 – Starting the Paid Service (1)

Chapter 2: Episode 1 – Starting the Paid Service (2)

Chapter 6: Episode 2 – Protagonist (1)

Chapter 21: Episode 5 – Shadow Keeper (3)

Han Myungoh is introduced to us as a shit corporate finance department head that's self-absorbed, cowardly, and misogynistic (as he harasses Yoo Sangah because she rejected him.)

Chapter 4: Starting the Paid Service (4)

Although, he does show basic human sympathy and regards when he tries to stop Kim Namwoon from killing a weak grandmother inside the train, showing that his morals are somewhat still aligned with good despite eventually backing away and watching the murder happen alongside everyone else. Not that it makes him any less unlikable.

Chapter 7: Episode 2 – Protagonist (2)

Chapter 9: Episode 2 – Protagonist (4)

He's then shown to continuously do and say things that hinder or annoy the progress of Kim Dokja and the others in the following chapters after this. It's easy to understand why he's plain annoying.

Chapter 21: Episode 5 – Shadow Keeper (3)

Chapter 22: Episode 5 – Shadow Keeper (4)

Then when the Dark Keeper turns Han Myungoh into a "Yitur", he gets to experience one of the biggest fear/struggles of womanhood. Rape (analogy) and non-consenting pregnancy.

Chapter 206: Episode 39 – Unidentified Wall (3)

This even gets confirmed in chapter 206 when Kim Dokja thinks about how "Asmodeus’ curse consumed probability to realize the ‘most terrible thing’ that the target thought of," meaning that pregnancy was the thing that Han Myungoh feared the most after the incident with the Dark Keeper.

Now, not only was he thrust into a situation where his body was doing something he never thought was even possible, he foolishly finishes off the demon and was now being hunted down by the Demon King, Asmodeus.

Chapter 204: Episode 39 – Unidentified Wall (1)

Skipping ahead, Han Myungoh disappears for a bit and is eventually reintroduced back into the story when Kim Dokja finds him in hell, now turned into a demon due to Asmodeus' influence on him. Han Myungoh now turned into a subordinate of the Demon King, all for the sake of his daughter.

Han Dareum is the daughter Han Myungoh birthed after being impregnated by the Dark Keeper's eggs and cursed by Asmodeus. He didn't mean or want to be in this situation, but unless he wanted his daughter to die, he had to be.

For the sake of his daughter, he chooses to serve under the very same man who stole and took control over the body of his daughter in order to use her as his Incarnation Body. (Basically child abuse, even if Han Dareum was unconscious most of the time. And this is the only thing keeping Han Myungoh working under Asmodeus.)

Chapter 251: Episode 47 – Demon King Selection (5)

"Come to think of it, Han Myungoh had really experienced many things. In a sense, he might've had a harder time than me."

Kim Dokja even says this himself. Because, unlike Kim Dokja, Han Myungoh was just a completely normal middle-aged person. Gave birth, survived and raised a child all on his own, no help from the 4th-wall, no reliable people by his side, and has a Demon King actively AFTER HIM. Crazy Work.

He's not a main character by any chance, but Han Myungoh's efforts and experiences are worthy of recognition, and Kim Dokja does just that. It's insane.

Chapter 259: Episode 49 – The Best at Something (1)

Now it's said that he also has postpartum depression. (This was probably for shits and giggles on the author's part though,) and he's on a damn apocalypse, which means he's always on a high stress situation.

This scenario is completely assumption on my part, but how terrifying must it have been to have your child in your arms and feel the urge to throw it on the ground or the wall? PPD is dangerous, he must've felt the urge to do it, at least once.

Han Dareum was probably lucky she grew up faster than human children, I think Han Myungoh would've actually done it considering the, quite frankly, absurd situation and stress he's constantly put under, and shortly after childbirth too. (Unless the dude had crazy will power or they both died, which did almost happen, and it's the reason Han Myungoh gave up his daughter to Asmodeus, it was to save her.)

To top it all off, he refused to leave Han Dareum when she was taken away by Asmodeus, and his entire arc throughout the Whole Novel was literally him trying his darndest to get her back, whether it's doing dirty work for other people or being an underling of Kim Dokja's.

W parent. Han Myungoh.

_____

Of course, this doesn't mention all the things that happened to him or the things I like about him because I want to save some for later posts.

[gazstations]

TW: Sexual implications

"Like this?"

"Yes. Make it more natural."

"Ah think ah 'ave a cramp."

"Suck it up."

That was usually how your times with Johnny went. He was your test dummy for scenes. You always had an idea of how you wanted characters to be positioned, but you needed the visual aid. Just to be sure. Why was it harder to write a character standing or moving than it was a fighting scene? You could never figure that out.

"Can ah put you in the positions now, doe?"

You looked up at Johnny's boyish grin and raised an eyebrow. He was never shy about his sexual libido, but you were already exhausted from a moment you had with Simon and Kyle last night. You were pretty sure Johnny was still petty as Price had him go run some errands with him.

You didn't miss the way they never returned with groceries or anything, though. But you never brought it up. Ignorance was bliss, and curiosity always killed the cat. So you avoided it.

"Behave, MacTavish," you chided.

"Dinnae want tae."

You sighed.

"Your boner is ruining my thinking."

Johnny smiled wickedly. "Tha's the plan."

You really put yourself in this position. You were the one who sought him out to be your model. You could've picked Kyle, but he was also on a weird horny streak as of late. The two men were amped up for whatever reason.

John and Simon seemed to disappear more. Most often into Price's workshop, especially in the evening. You had been pondering for days on what was so important back there.

But every time you thought about checking it out, Simon always somehow appeared and herded you somewhere else.

"What's in the workshop?" You asked bluntly, changing the subject.

Johnny was silent for a long moment.

"You guys have dead bodies back there or something?"

It was a joke. That's all it was. You were a writer. A small, off-limits workshop really screamed murder scene or sex dungeon. And you knew if it was the latter than they would be inviting you in. They loved playing with you.

You didn't realize how ironic that comment was.

The color drained from Johnny's face.

And you thought that was interesting.

SERIES MASTERLIST || NEXT

[slutoru1207]

Sinister!Mark x reader

TW: Non-consensual behavior (forced kiss, possessive behavior) Psychological manipulation (Sinister Mark’s obsession and controlling tendencies) Cannibalism mentions (if referenced) Violence & murder implications (his goal to kill this universe’s Mark) Stalking/obsession themes (his fixation on the reader) Unhinged behavior (his unstable and psychopathic nature)

The air felt thin. It wasn’t just fear squeezing the breath from your lungs—it was him.

You had barely processed what had happened before you were here, in a place too beautiful to belong to him. A meadow stretched out before you, vibrant and untouched, the kind of place that should’ve been peaceful. But peace didn’t exist when Sinister Mark was near.

His hands rested on your shoulders, a twisted gentleness in his grip. He had flown you here in a blur, no warning, no struggle—just an undeniable force sweeping you away before you could even scream. Now, you were standing in the soft grass, the scent of flowers clashing violently with the coppery tang of him.

Blood. Dried and fresh, clinging to his suit, his skin. He reeked of it.

And yet, his golden eyes were soft as he looked at you, lips twitching into a sick sort of smile. “God, you’re real,” he murmured, almost like he was in awe.

You swallowed hard, willing your voice to be stronger than your shaking body. “Mark—”

His grip tightened instantly, fingers digging into your skin just enough to make you wince. “No,” he snapped, voice sharp before melting into something dangerously sweet. “Not him. Not anymore. That’s not me. Not since I lost you.”

Your heart hammered in your chest. You didn’t dare move.

His eyes flickered, pupils blown wide with something unreadable—something wrong. “You don’t understand what it’s like,” he whispered, leaning in close, his breath warm against your cheek. “Losing you? It broke something in me. I tried to fix it. I tried to fill the hole you left, but nothing worked.” He laughed, soft and breathy, like he was telling some kind of joke only he could hear. “Not even them.”

Them. You didn’t want to ask. You didn’t need to.

His fingers traced along your jaw, slow and possessive. “But now… now I have you again.” His lips curled into a grin that sent ice through your veins. “And I’m never losing you this time.”

Your breath hitched. “Mark, you don’t have to do this—”

“I do,” he interrupted, eyes burning with something wild. “You don’t get it. He took you from me. He gets to have you, to touch you, to love you—” His jaw clenched, fury flashing across his face before twisting into something worse. “And that’s not fair.”

You knew who he meant. Your Mark. The one he was hunting.

Sinister Mark tilted his head, watching the realization sink into you like it delighted him. “Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed, voice syrupy and condescending. “Don’t look so scared. I’m not gonna hurt you.” His smile widened, teeth flashing like a predator playing with its food. “Him, though?*” He exhaled sharply, eyes darkening. “I’m going to rip him apart. I’m going to take everything from him. Just like he did to me.”

Your stomach dropped.

His hands slid down to your arms, firm, controlling. “And then?” He hummed, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, sighing like he had missed the taste of your skin. “Then, we can finally be together again. Just like we were meant to be.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears.

Sinister Mark leaned back slightly, just enough to look you in the eyes, his own glowing with raw, unhinged devotion. “Aren’t you happy?”

It wasn’t a question. It was a demand.

His hands tightened on your arms, his grip firm but deceptively gentle, like he was holding onto something fragile—something he refused to lose again. His golden eyes burned into yours, searching, desperate yet dark with something twisted.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” he murmured, voice low, almost reverent. “How many times I’ve dreamed of you, of us.”

Your breath hitched as his hand lifted, fingers tracing over your lips with a kind of careful obsession, like he was memorizing them. “And now you’re here,” he whispered. “Mine again.”

Before you could even think, before you could pull away or say something wrong, his lips crashed against yours.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was desperate. A claim, a possession, a forceful reminder that you belonged to him—at least, in his mind. His fingers curled into your hair, holding you close as he deepened the kiss, drinking in the moment like he’d been starving for it. And maybe he had been. Maybe in his fractured, broken mind, this was the only thing that had ever truly mattered.

Your hands trembled against his chest, the warmth of his body contrasting the ice-cold fear crawling up your spine. His heartbeat was steady—too steady, too controlled for someone as unhinged as him.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath heavy but content. A slow, wicked smile curled on his lips as he exhaled like he had just found peace for the first time in years.

“There,” he murmured, brushing his thumb against your cheek with eerie tenderness. “Now the universe feels right again.”

part 2

[thewomanwholaughed]

The words didn't go over her head, but she opted to not remark on them. A grin spreading across her face. "Well Batsy that's quite simple!"

"When you are exhausted. Broken. All the light and hope snuffed out of you. Then I will kill you. And then myself!"

She's laughing.

"HAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

But it stops as abruptly as her laughter started. Eyes serious, lips in a neutral position.

"It's what you deserve... You killed my daughter! You ruined my life! IF YOU HADN'T STOPPED THAT DEAL! THE FALCONES WOULDN'T HAVE KILLED MY LITTLE GIRL! WE WOULD'VE TAKEN THE MONEY AND LEFT GOTHAM." Her expression grows empty, void of emotion. She's hollow...

"We would've gone to Metropolis. I could've afforded a better place for us. Send her to a better school. I'd pick up a new job, and save everything else for her future."

There's a twisted and sadistic grin that follows. She was furious, and it showed. "BUT NO! You had to show up and beat up the mobsters doing a deal in a little diner! And even got the owner, the cook, and the waitress involved. We were only paid to let it happen, to serve them food and drinks while they discussed. NOTHING MORE!"

"But they thought we snitched! And so they killed my little girl..."

"THIS WILL END WHEN YOU KNOW WHAT I WENT THROUGH BATMAN! THAT'S WHEN OUR SONG AND DANCE ENDS!"

With a snarl, she finishes her story, then flops down onto her back, arms raised into the air.

"Just cuff me already... We're not done yet, Batsy. You're still giving it your all to stop me."

"But I have time. I'm patient... I'll wait for you to give up."

As usual, the only one of them who manages to find any humor in this situation is the Joker. All that work, all that fighting... and it was just a test. The answer to the question of 'does Batman still take her seriously' and he gave her a resounding 'yes' as his response. All this... just to satisfy a curiosity on the Joker's end. She laughs, while Batman grimaces.

He pulls the bullet out of the armor and throws it onto the ground, marching towards the Joker and pulling out a pair of handcuffs. His expression the whole time static and stern.

"You're going back to Arkham, Joker."

As he cuffs her, how tired he is hits Batman again. Over twenty years of fighting crime: close to thirty at this point. More than half of his life... and what does he have to show for it? A few small victories here and there, the occasional fire put out, but that's all there is in final analysis.

He's not getting any younger, and neither is Joker. How long will they keep on doing this? How many more times can they fight the same fights? Something has to change. Something has to give, before they end up killing one another.

"When does this end, Joker? When will you have enough and be done with this little game of yours?"

Hers, because this has never been a game for Batman. Not when he knows her capacity for death.

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Gyutaro NSFW Profile

Yandere! Gyutaro x fem! reader

Tw: non-con, dub-con, stalking, kidnapping, Gyutaro threatens a couple to let him watch them have sex, exhibitionism, masturbation, period sex, spitting, minor implications of somnophilia, mentions of physical violence, threats, murder, Gyutaro is a freak and likes to hold your hand during sex, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 13K

HABITS:

Generally speaking, Gyutaro has never really touched himself. Perhaps when he was younger, still a human and going through puberty, but for the vast, vast majority of Gyutaro’s life, his demon biology has rendered every sexual urge he feels dulled to the point of disappearing.

That said, he’s still able to grow jealous at hearing when human partners are intimate with one another, their moans and cries grating on his ears and making him scowl, anger simmering in his veins because why can’t he have that?

Sure, he could find some random human woman and take what he wants from her, but there’s something about the way humans clutch onto one another, moaning out praises and begging for more that enticing Gyutaro, making him feel shy and bashful and pissed because he knows that will never be him. He’ll never have a woman gasping his name in anything other than fear, and although he’s accepted it, he’s wildly jealous.

However, because his actual sexual urges themselves are diminished, Gyutaro more often finds himself jealous than horny – a stark difference between the two. And consequently, he has minimal experience with masturbation, and he frankly doesn’t care. His logistical situation with Daki makes finding the time to touch himself in his own private space extremely difficult. Plus, there’s something awfully pitiful about wrapping his fingers around his cock with the knowledge that they’ll only ever be his fingers, no one else’s – something that makes him warble and scratch himself bloody, effectively killing any libido he’d managed to feel.

But with all of that said, things begin changing once his infatuation with you develops. He’s not immediately wishing to fuck you, but as Gyutaro becomes more comfortable with the idea of intimacy with you, lewd thoughts start tainting the edges of his mind, turning the relatively innocent fantasy of cuddling with you into grinding against your ass, grasping your thigh and lifting it up just barely so that he can slot himself inside, breathing hard into your ear and growling, the sound throaty and heady and so very needy.

And really, is that so unnatural?

Sure, his libido isn’t the strongest, but imagining the woman he thinks he’s in love with to be naked and laid out underneath him isn’t out of the ordinary, right?

He’s sure all men think about the depraved thoughts that start worming their way into his imagination – they’re mostly questions, really, tying into his obsessiveness and desperation to learn as much about you as he possibly can.  

He’s idly wondering how you sound when you moan – is it airy, high-pitched, low, gasping?

How do you look when you come? Does your face scrunch up, does your mouth drop open, do you close your eyes, does your back arch, do you curl your toes, do you reach out and grasp at anything you can find?

What’s your favorite position? He’d be willing to try all of them if you’d like, if you’re unsure – Gyutaro secretly thinks his own favorite will be having you on top, your pretty tits mere inches from his lips and giving him a perfect view of both your own face and your cunt sucking him in again and again and again, the sight making him dizzy with pleasure and forcing him to grasp your hips and fuck up into you, just to hear you gasp and moan and scream his name.

Have you ever squirted? He hopes no man has ever touched you at all, much less made you squirt, but Gyutaro swears he’ll get you to do it – he wants to feel your release all over his face, coating his fingers, tongue, chin, and cock, smeared across every inch of his skin and worn proudly.

Do you like to be praised or degraded, and do you like your lovers vocal? Gyutaro sure hopes so, because he knows he won’t be able to shut up when he’s buried balls deep inside you, your wet, warm, tight walls clenching down on him and forcing curse after groans out of him, practically milking him for both his cum and his moans. He wouldn’t mind praising or degrading you – what naturally slips out of his mouth when he’s fucking his fist is a healthy mix of both, imagining you in front of him and calling you my perfect slut or something of the sort.

Do you groom yourself, keeping everything perfectly smooth and shaved, or do you let nature takes its course? He hopes it’s the latter – he wants to relish in your scent, to bury his face between your legs and inhale deeply, getting a nose full of you, something made much easier when your hair and pheromones are tickling his cheeks.

(While he prefers you to not shave, Gyutaro himself will try to clean himself up routinely – starting way before he steals you away, just so that he can learn how to do it, to make sure he knows how to so that he doesn’t embarrass himself the first time you see him naked. The thought already embarrasses him enough – to have his body open to your scrutiny, to feel you looking at him, and he really doesn’t need the extra stress. Luckily for him, his quick regeneration means no accidental knicks with the razor knife last long – unfortunately, it also means that any cut hair regrows almost instantaneously, much to his displeasure. He’s hopeful you won’t be too disgusted by his pubes the first time you see him – though the dark hairs do a good job of framing the very, very long cock hanging between his legs.)

Quite honestly, he stalks you with such intensity and consistency that he’ll know the answer to many of these questions before long – he's memorized how you look when you come, your face ingrained into his brain and flashing behind his eyelids when he’s orgasming himself. But it’s different to be thinking about something like that – something so naughty. Gyutaro spends his time idly wondering these questions, a pale pink blooming on his cheeks because it’s just so dirty and you’re so very sweet, and thinking of you in such a lewd light almost makes him feel guilty.

Almost, because then he sees you, hiding from the shadows and getting the smallest whiff of your scent every few seconds, and then suddenly all guilt is gone because fuck, he needs you.

However, Gyutaro is still oddly shy about certain things with you. As such, when he first begins fantasizing about fucking you, there’s that small, annoyingly human part of him that worries if you’ll find him revolting once he’s fully nude in front of you, vulnerable to your facial expressions and any words of negative reaction.

He’s terrified, really, that you’ll find him unattractive or too repulsive to sleep with. He wants you to want him, to need him as he needs you, and if you were to call him ugly, a monster, anything of the sort? Well, it would take the demon a long, long time to recover from such a blow to his heart, old wounds tearing open fresh to endure another bout of pain.

And so, in a panicked and a frantic attempt to avoid any negative criticism from you once your intimate relationship begins, Gyutaro decides that he needs to learn more about actual sex, not just the crude, vulgar words he hears from the human men around him. If he wants to have any hope at making you actually enjoy sex with him (something he desperately, desperately wants), Gyutaro feels that he needs to see the real thing, to observe carefully and take notes.

Luckily, it’s not particularly hard to find a coupling around the Entertainment District, sneaking across roofs and peeking into windows until he hears moans and slapping sounds and sees writhing bodies and smells the musty, acrid odor of sex. And once he does, Gyutaro is quick to step down into the room, his presence casting a shadow against the moonlight and candle light of the room, the couple immediately stopping and staring at him in fear.

Before either person has a chance to scream, Gyutaro’s rushing forward, a hand covering each mouth and a sneer on his face as he tells the man that he’s so lucky, having a pretty woman to fuck every night… show me.

The man’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head underneath Gyutaro’s hand, causing the demon’s sneer to fall into a scowl. He needs to see this couple make love – he needs tips and advice, to see how it really goes. Plus, the woman’s body is somewhat similar to yours – perhaps you have similar spots that feel particularly good, and Gyutaro will take any and every scrap of information and ideas he can in order to make eventual sex with you good.

Anything to get you moaning his name and pulling at his hair and begging him for more.

Let me watch you fuck her, or I’ll kill you both. What’s your choice, huh? Gyutaro holds eye contact with the man, watching him debate, feeling the woman trembling and crying under his other hand.

His eye twitches – damn this man for loving the woman, because his slight hesitation in answering means he doesn’t want Gyutaro to see her nude, vulnerable, exposed, and it’s making Gyutaro imagine someone propositioning him this about you. Violent images of how he’d slaughter and kill whoever was threatening to see you moaning and gasping and naked flash through his mind, making him grit his teeth and press against their mouths harder.

At that, the man frantically nods yes, and Gyutaro snickers. Eh, you bastard, letting me watch you touch your woman? Pathetic, man, pathetic.

He takes his hands off their mouths, bracing himself for any screams, but when none come he smiles – a mean, twisted smile. I want to see everything, you know? Start over, act like I’m not here. I’m just watching, so give me a good show but be natural! I’ll kill you if you’re not natural.

Gyutaro scratches at his chest as he settles back against a wall on the side of the room, watching as the couple shakily sits up. The woman is still crying, but the man cups her cheek in his palm, swallowing hard, before slotting his lips against hers. The woman immediately begins kissing him back, the motions slow and hesitant.

Gyutaro growls, his voice forceful as he tells them to kiss harder, I’ll cut off your lips if you don’t.

That gets the two of them moving faster, the audible wet noises as her tongue slips into his mouth making Gyutaro lick his lips. It’s all too easy to imagine you in the woman’s place and him in the man’s, his hand sitting at your breast just as the man’s is, idly squeezing and playing with her nipple. They spend a few more moments kissing, before the man carefully pushes the woman back, laying her down with her legs spread over, her hands held over her head.

They’re still kissing, and Gyutaro’s hand snakes down to cup at his bulge, the idea of wet noises and hovering over you making his breath short. He’s watching them seemingly without blinking, reaching down past the top hem of his pants and firmly clutching at this balls, squeezing harshly and making him hiss through his teeth as the man shimmeys down, kissing and licking at the woman’s breasts.

She keens, biting her lip and trying to not look at Gyutaro, the man using his thumb and index finger to roll her nipple, pinching and tugging while flicking his tongue over its twin. Gyutaro pulls his hands out of his pants briefly to spit into his palm, hand slithering back into his pants and gripping the base of his cock in a death grip.

He’s painfully hard at this point – the man’s head is suddenly between the woman’s thighs, and Gyutaro’s moving forward before he can even think about, still gripping himself under his pants as he nears the bed, wanting an up-close view of the man’s actions. They both tense at this, but Gyutaro scoffs.

Keep going, yeah? Just needed a better view.

The man swallows but obeys, tongue flicking out to lick a long stripe from her folds up and over her clit, making her sigh. Soon his tongue is flicking out and licking at the small bud, fingers pulling up to expose the area and make access easier. Gyutaro mentally notes that away – he knows women like when men play with their clit, and perhaps you’d be impressed by his knowledge of this, or the way he’ll pull your lips up, just so he can fully see that pretty, throbbing pearl on you.

The man’s free hand moves up to run a few fingers through her folds, his fingers suddenly soaking wet and glistening in the moonlight. Gyutaro licks his lips – god, he wants to taste you so bad, his tastebuds tingling and his mouth literally salivating at the thought of tasting your lips, what’s between your legs, even your tears. Gyutaro’s hand slowly moves up, hand slicked with spit lessening the friction and making him lowly groan. The man slips a finger inside her, the woman’s small moan making the man’s brows twitch together.

Gyutaro’s careful to watch the man’s pacing – his tongue is licking steady, consistent circles over her clit, while his fingers are thrusting slowly, carefully, adding a second finger after a few moments. Would you like the same pacing? Gyutaro’s not sure, but the hand not diligently pumping at his cock beneath his pants mimics the same finger motion as the man, his tongue slipping out to mimic licking small circles. He matches the man’s pace, wide yellow eyes slowly starting to go half-lidded from the pleasure of his fingers wrapped around his girth.

Tell me what feels best, woman.

He’ll snarl, keeping an eye on the way the man tenses up but doesn’t stop his actions. The woman’s flushed, her eyes darting to him before quickly looking away.

When – ah, when he curls his fingers up, fuck, and little circles on – oh! She cuts herself off with a moan, and Gyutaro (irritated that she didn’t finish but too focused on her instructions) repeats the words over and over in his head, modifying the hand motion he’s practicing to closely resemble her descriptions.

His fist moves a bit faster, creating a deft thump motion each time his fingers bump into his navel. The sound of the man fingering the woman is so, so very lewd, too – it’s wet, a squelching noise that makes Gyutaro drool, the idea that you’d be that wet making his throat dry, his hips bucking forward against his fist involuntarily.

Fuck her, now, ngh…

The man gulps, wiping the woman’s slick off of his lips and chin, and Gyutaro feels a particularly large glob of precum dribble from his tip, the extra lubrication making his pleasure just that much sharper.

Start over her.

He instructs as the man moves to hover over her, nodding at the demon’s words and slotting himself between her legs. Gyutaro watches intently as the man grips the base of his cock, aligning his tip with your hole, pushing forward and letting his eyes roll to the back of his head. Gyutaro sucks in a sharp breath – would you feel that good inside? He's sure you would; you’re so pretty and sexy, of course you have the best cunt. He bets it’s incredibly warm, wet enough to leave his cock, navel, and upper thighs coated in no time, and god you’d be so fucking tight, gripping him hard enough to make pulling out of you nearly impossible-

The woman lets out a wanton moan as the man starts moving, the pace immediately fast and bruising. The sound of his balls clapping against her ass fills the room, and Gyutaro pants, his fist moving faster and faster, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. He transitions from moving his arm to thrusting his stationary fist, matching the man’s pacing and imagining it’s you getting fucked, that your cries are the ones ringing in his ears and it’s your pretty tits that are bouncing and jiggling with the force of the thrusts.

From behind – shit, from behind! He instructs, his voice strained with his impending orgasm.

The man listens, pulling out and carefully slipping her over, slipping back inside and listening to the way the woman cries out. Gyutaro’s eyes focus on her breasts as they sway and jiggle – you have a very similar size, and just the thought of him fucking you hard enough to get your tits moving makes his eyes flutter closed for a moment, eyebrows drawing tightly together at the thought.

This sight is even more erotic than the last position – it’s all too easy to imagine it’s him pulling at your hips, smacking his own against your ass again and again, making you feel him so deep, deep enough to get you chanting his name like a fucking prayer. Gyutaro moves forward and uses his free hand to grab the man’s, forcing his fingers into her hair and pushing her face down against the mattress, the new position making the man groan and the woman shudder.

Gyutaro curses, letting go and putting all his effort into fucking his fist to the same tempo, trying to match the man’s perfectly. He wants to fuck you like this, he decides – leaning over you like some sort of animal, mounting you, fucking you in the most raw, animalistic way.

You’d look so damn pretty, and he’s sure your pussy would make wet noises like hers is, your slick dripping down your thighs and your pleas to give you more more more please Gyutaro, need your cum!

Gyutaro gasps hard as cum sprays all along the inside of his pants, his fist slowing to a stop as he rides out his high, eyes half lidded and all sorts of groans and sharp exhales filling the room.

The couple stares, bewildered, unsure of what to do – he’s still fucking her but more gently, and Gyutaro smirks at them, still dazed from the pleasure and the idea of doing this to you. Licking his lips, he climbs onto the windowsill, glancing over his shoulder at them.

I’m coming back tomorrow night. He stares at the woman, a wide smile splitting across his features. You’re gonna show me how to suck cock right, yeah? Gotta make sure I can guide her when she-

He stops, swallowing, his cheeks still blushed from his orgasm and from the vulgar idea of you taking him down his throat.

Don’t you tell anyone about this, eh? I’ll find you, and I’ll kill you.

And with that, he’s gone, disappeared from the windowsill and leaving the man and woman to embrace each other, shaking in fear. Meanwhile, Gyutaro’s running from roof to roof, adrenaline filling his veins because he has to see you now – he’s too pent up, and he needs to see you in person. As expected, you’re asleep by the time he reaches your home, sitting on your window edge, licking his lips and breathing hard.

You’re so fucking pretty – he crawls closer, acutely aware to be quiet and not wake you. You’d fallen asleep on your futon, the blanket still neatly folded in the corner, and Gyutaro swallows before grabbing the cloth, pulling it over you and up to your chin, his hands trembling.

He sighs, his fingers itching to reach out and touch you, to bend you into the positions he’d seen the couples trying, but he refrains. He doesn’t want to wake you, doesn’t want you to be aware of his presence quite yet. He has to be patient, good – he’ll allow himself one pleasure, however, as he dips a finger inside his pants, scooping up some of his still warm cum and gently, gingerly smearing it across your lips, practically moaning at the sight of white against your skin.

You’re just so, so perfect – it almost makes him sick, but as he returns to the couple the next night, demanding the woman get on her knees, Gyutaro can’t help but shiver.

It may take him a while to actually touch you, but god, he’ll be ready.

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your stomach

In general, one of the things that Gyutaro finds he adores about you as his obsession festers is how opposite the two of you are. Regardless of your weight, you are physically different from him – and Gyutaro notices this early on.

That is, his body is essentially just bone – skin stretched to cover his skeleton, while you have lovely warm, squishy skin covering your curves and pretty body. You’re so fucking soft – nothing on you can possibly be as hard as he is, and from the moment he first holds your waist with a slightly shaking hand he can’t help but notice this difference every time he looks at you.

He grows to love feeling the areas on you that hold the most squishiness, and his favorite place of all is your stomach. There’s something so relaxing about how warm the area is, your skin practically his personal hand warmer as he slides his hands into your kimono, his palms pressed snugly against your tummy.

They don’t move much; stationary, just simply feeling, the intention not inherently sexual. However, as you bring back small traces of his long-buried humanity, you also bring back traces of his libido, something that’s been noticeably gone throughout the duration of his time as a demon.

And so, as urges to kiss and touch you slowly begin seeping into his mind, Gyutaro slowly becomes fixated on the fact that you’re so fucking soft, the perfect thing for him to squeeze and lick and fuck until you’re crying and begging for more more more –

His sex drive isn’t monumental, but Gyutaro would be blatantly lying if he said he hasn’t fantasized about how soft you’d feel underneath him before, your pretty body on display for his greedy eyes.

He’s seen many humans naked, but the first time he sees you without any clothing on, his hands are immediately reaching out – and, surprisingly, heading directly for your stomach. His breaths come out harsher as he stares down at your exposed belly, the skin even softer somehow than when it touches it under your clothes.

As he starts regularly fucking you, get ready for his hands to always be gravitating towards your stomach, his fingers pressing into the soft fat while you writhe and squirm in his lap as he forces you up and down his cock, his eyes rolling back into his head while he practically drools.

He loses his composure during sex, and it’ll be more than apparent in the way he grasps onto your tummy like it’s his life line, as if you’re the only thing tethering him to Earth while his orgasm crashes over him.

And god, when he’s got you laying in front of him, your pretty legs parted to expose the soft, warm pussy he claims as his, Gyutaro uses your stomach as almost a pillow – he’s watching his fingers appearing and disappearing out of your cunt, your juices smeared across his pale skin as he rests his forehead on the softness of your lower belly.

His eyes are wide and unblinking, his lips parted in awe as he watches the way you just take them, your velvety walls clenching down repeatedly, hard enough to make his mouth water. He’s always leaving small kisses against your stomach after sex, an oddly sweet gesture that makes every bruise he leaves on your body from the rough fucking feeling slightly better.

It’s strange, his fascination, and at first you have the terrible, horrible fear that his obsession stems from wanting to grow his family with a child. It’s a terrifying thought, one you try to put out of your head, but eventually (after he forces you to tell him, his eyes turning dark and threatening as he demands you to tell me, don’t keep any secrets from me, ever) the fear is lost, as Gyutaro regretfully informs you that demons are infertile.

You’re relieved, but the question only seems to further ignite his obsession with your stomach – you’ll catch him speaking to it when you’re asleep, odd little confessions of if only I could… when you wake up.

Essentially, Gyutaro is obsessed with your tummy because it’s soft and squishy and fuck you’re so very pretty. 

His fingers 

Generally speaking, Gyutaro isn’t particularly fond of any specific body part of his own.

He’s proud of his ability to fight and destroy, but especially in the context of physical attractiveness, Gyutaro firmly believes what he’s always been told. He knows he’s unappealing; how could anyone ever like a monster with such a grotesque body and face?

It’s a cycle of self-deprecation that he’s found comfort in for most of his life, but once you appear, suddenly he’s wildly disappointed that he isn’t more handsome. He wishes he had a fuller figure, muscle spanning his chest and back, just like all those slayers he sees.

He wishes he had softer hair, a more symmetrical smile, less facial blemishes, everything.

He hates that he’s limited to human beauty ideals, but he can’t help it – how can he, when you’re around him looking so cute and adorable? You’re not perfect either (though he loves your imperfections perhaps more than anything else), but he wants to be perfect for you.

And so, while Gyutaro silently wallows in his self-misery, he slowly discovers that despite his lack of sexual experience and general understanding of human female anatomy, you seem to really, really like his fingers.

His nails were, initially, something you’d quickly stammered out a w-wait! to when he’d tried to shove a finger inside, and while he hadn’t appreciated your interruption, when you mentioned he could stab you and make you bleed with how sharp they were, he reluctantly digressed.

It’s not hard to bite off the excess sharpness of the nail, grinding them down to a roundness against the flesh of his finger, perfectly safe.

The first time he’d fingered you, Gyutaro was shocked at how impossibly warm, wet and tight you were inside. It was like touching velvet – so soft, your walls sucking him in and seeming to almost invite him inside, as if you wanted him there, like you didn’t want him to leave.

He’s staring transfixed at the way you take them, your pussy squelching as he slowly thrusts them in and out, your little squeals making his cheeks flush a very light pink. He loves the way you gasp when he curls them just so, brushing against the spongey spot he’s memorized as your favorite.

He loves to abuse the area; watching as your eyes squeeze closed, your fingers grasping onto his shoulders, your thighs tensing and clenching, your little cries of his name and yes – yes please ‘Taro, fuck please!

He loves how quickly he can get you falling apart with his fingers, how you’re reduced to nothing but a moaning, whimpering mess once he gets you below him. It boosts his confidence, and occasionally between thrusts inside, he’ll pull his fingers out and suck on them, his own little groan slipping out as he savors your taste, all musky and heavy.

And of course, once he discovers your clit, it’s over for you – he’s never leaving the small button alone, the bundle of nerves positively sore by the time he’s done with you. He’s rubbing small circles against it, drawing figure eights, writing the kanji for his name with the tip of his finger, anything he can to get your back arching up, your toes curling and your lips parting into that pretty ‘o’ he loves so much.

He’s constantly bewildered by just how much pleasure he can deliver you with only his hands, and so as he squeezes and gropes at your ass, breasts, stomach, anything and everything, just know that he’s feeling nearly as good as you are.

After all, those bandages as pants may be loose, but you can still see a very clear outline of just how excited he is – and just how much he’s enjoyed the way you’ve made a mess of his fingers, if the wet stain around said outline is any indicator. He just really, really likes using his fingers on you, so just let him, yeah?

DRIVE:

Gyutaro’s never been that horny. Having been turned into a demon while young, he’s never really experienced the human emotion of lust, his sexual urges having faded out from his teenage years to nearly nothing. He’s too consumed by other emotions – anger, jealousy, pity – to really focus on something so arbitrary, something so human.

And so, as a result of this repressed sexual drive Gyutaro doesn’t immediately begin lusting after you once his obsession with you begins to form. He isn’t desperate to fuck you the moment he realizes he feels some twisted form of love, nor does he want to touch you in any way that’s inherently sexual.

Instead, his urges to be with you and feel your skin are much, much more innocent in nature – of course, he’s still a man-eating monster, but he wants to touch your cheek just because it looks soft.

He wants to run his hands along your sides because you’re so small compared to his looming figure, and he wants to make sure that you’re real.

He wants to know how it feels to have you in his arms, because he’s seen human couples doing that and it’s a show of intimacy and connection between two people, and that’s what he wants to have with you.

As time passes, his urges towards you slowly begin moving towards the area of lusting, however. Soon he’s wanting to kiss you; his lips are always chapped, of course, and he’s sure his breath smells atrocious, but your lips look so soft and warm, like they’d be perfect to press against his own.

He imagines pressing you against his body as you kiss him, your hands resting against his chest as you sigh into his mouth, the human form of affection seeming so intimate and lovely and necessary.

It’s some long lost repressed human part of him driving these desires, but Gyutaro can’t find it in himself to care – especially not after the first time he sees you nude. He’s seen dozens of humans naked before; he lives in the Entertainment District after all, and when he’s devouring someone, he’s not particularly respectful with keeping them covered up.

However, there’s something different about you – maybe it’s because he feels so attached to you, or maybe it’s because he suddenly can’t stop thinking about how it would feel to embrace your naked body with his own, free of any fabric separating the both of you while he indulges in your warmth, softness, the plush skin of your body.

He’s not sure, but regardless, after that moment suddenly all those sexual feelings leftover from his time as a human come rushing back to him – he’s hard without even realizing it, his eyes bulging out of their sockets as he simply stares, his expression going dumb.

You’re uncomfortable with it, he can tell by the way you avoid his gaze, but he can’t find it in himself to care – you’re so beautiful, perfect for him in every possible way. And so, after that night, Gyutaro finds himself inching closer and closer towards the final level of intimacy, pushing the boundaries just a bit more each night until he’s eventually got you perched in his lap, his hands placed on your hips.

You’re both naked, your breasts placed tantalizingly close, close enough to be able to reach out and wrap his lips around your nipple, to suck and watch you keen, to maybe even sigh out his name…

He’s rendered mute by your pussy the first time he fucks you, truly too pussydrunk to really even think, as embarrassing as it is. The big, strong Gyutaro falls so easily to your body – one clench and he’s shuddering, every nerve in his body on fire as he tries not to come quite yet – only lasting thirty seconds is wildly embarrassing, and while you’d never poke fun at him for fear of dying, Gyutaro grits his teeth and tries to hold on to his dignity.

And so, sex with you becomes a regular craving for the demon. His urges aren’t too unbearable, and he only ever acts on it a few nights a week, but be prepared because Gyutaro will fuck you, and you will like it – he'll make sure you come, and doesn’t that mean you’re enjoying yourself?

But until he gather up enough courage to actually fuck you, Gyutaro takes baby steps. He can’t do too much all at once – he gets too overwhelmed, too shy and embarrassed because you’re looking at him, your pretty eyes and face and voice giving him attention. It makes his lips go numb, anxiously scratching at his arms and struggling to meet your gaze because god he wants to touch you and hear you moan his name, but how does one go about that, exactly?

Sure, he knows the basics of sex and has watched couples initiate it, but it’s different with you. It’s different because Gyutaro isn’t stupid – he knows you’re afraid of him, that he’s too grotesque and ugly for you to ever really want to be intimate with, and these thoughts make it hard for him to just take what he wants from you.

And so, he starts small – he'll touch you a little more, fingertips pressing hard into your sides when he ghosts his hands there, trying to be gentle but struggling to regulate his strength because you’re so close to him.

He’ll let his fingers brush over your hair, never enough for you to feel but just enough for the texture to become familiar, always bringing his fingers up to his nose and smelling them afterwards, something between a growl and a moan slipping from his lips at the scent.

He’ll reach out and lightly, oh so lightly press his thumb against your cheek, marveling at how soft your skin is and how warm it is, mumbling something under his breath about how you’re too pretty, how it makes him sick that you’re too damn pretty.

His breathing will be a little unsteady when his does this, those yellow eyes of his glancing between your own and your lips, contemplating in a way that he thinks is much more subtle than it actually is.

He wants all sorts of human intimacy with you, and the next thing that he wants to tackle is kissing you. The idea is strange to him - why do humans press their mouths together? It must feel good, but why? He’s curious, but touching you has such an effect on him, so surely tasting you would suck the air right out of his lungs, leaving his knees feeling weak and making pink bloom across his cheeks.

He doesn’t ask you for permission, instead one day coming to sit beside you against the wall of the lair, that familiar concentrated look in his eye. He’ll ask you some question whose answer he doesn’t care about – just to see your lips moving, watching with sharp eyes how your tongue contorts and moves inside your mouth, sometimes flicking out to lick at your lips, the sight almost making him whimper.

Soon, he can’t just watch – he’s rushing forward without any warning, pressing against you with a level of force that makes you yelp. His lips are dry and cracked (despite him having licked them excessively in preparation for this moment, wishing to make them as soft and pleasant as possible), and they’re not moving – he’s staying perfectly still, eyes wide open and staring at you.

It scares you, because while you know what he’s doing, the experience is anything but pleasant. He stays like that for a few moments, before slowly, very slowly moving, his lips clumsy and unsure as they work at you. It feels like he’s trying to eat you – his tongue and teeth stay firmly inside his mouth, but his lips keep trying to fit more and more of you into his mouth at once, saliva smearing across bits of your cheek and chin.

You’re still completely frozen, unsure of what to do, and Gyutaro pulls back, scowling. It had felt good – in a strange way, a way that made something in his stomach feel tight and warm, but he’s sure it would feel much better if you were participating too, if you’d actually kiss him back. Don’t just sit there, he’ll warble to you, not willing to actually ask you to kiss him back, his pride barring him from practically begging for what he wants.

(Though as your sexual relationship progresses, this pride slowly withers away and dies – to the point where he’ll get on his knees and beg for you to open your pretty mouth and suck him off, because even though he could force you easily, it always feels better when you consent, when you at pretend to actually want him.)

This time, as he leans in, your lips move too, trying to match his awkward kisses. Gyutaro groans at that, leaning further against you, the weight causing you to fall backwards, lying flat on your back. You’d pulled away from the kiss during the fall, and as Gyutaro stares down at you hungrily, he swallows, sucking through his teeth harshly and trying to get every drop of your saliva down his throat. You must really, really want him, huh?

The sight simultaneously flusters and flatters him, and before you can say a word he’s scrambling over you, pressing his lips against yours harshly, with vigor, his tongue slipping out and practically forcing its way down your throat. You just taste so fucking good – it's addictive, and the knowledge that you’d laid down for him, wanting him to hover over you and mimic sex making his head swim. He’s breathing hard through his nose, almost wheezing, and you quickly shut your eyes, not wanting to look at his still wide-open ones.

He kisses you for a long, long time – easily thirty minutes, not tiring of the feeling, his tongue still actively rubbing against yours, tracing every tooth and managing to dip into every crevice in your mouth, each new area making him groan and get just a hair more desperate.

When he eventually pulls away, he licks your lips and smiles shakily, a hand coming down to pet at your hair. Next time, will you take you shirt off? It probably grosses you out, huh, that request?

And when you nod with wide eyes, too scared to say no, Gyutaro will exhale slowly, nodding and muttering a series of slurred good’s and your name under his breath, before stalking off out of the lair. Once out of your sight he’s stopping, a hand coming up to scratch at the area right over his heart, his face morphing into something between despair and prevenance.

You’re just so damn pretty – he can’t handle the sight of you, and the image of you laid out before him, looking up at him with those eyes makes every muscle in his body tense, that familiar warm feeling in his groin growing tighter and tighter, and as a hand snakes down to palm at the now very noticeable and wet bulge in his pants, Gyutaro decides that he needs to speed this process up.

He doesn’t know how much longer he can take holding himself back – not if touching you and tasting you and making you gasp feel this good.

(Later that night, as he hovers over your sleeping form and tugs near painfully on his cock, Gyutaro decides that the next step can happen right then and there – you’d look so good with his cum smeared all across your face, wouldn’t you?)

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Praise

While Gyutaro has a difficult time believing your compliments initially, with time he grows much more willing (and desperate) to indulge in your sweet words.

Your kind praises of his caring actions – no matter how forced the words are – have him melting inside, his heart pounding in his chest while he struggles to hold your gaze. He reverts to a bit of a teenage boy in moments where you compliment him – and during sex?

Well, Gyutaro nearly passes out the first time you compliment his body. It takes so much courage for him to show you himself nude, if only because he’s so scared of the way you’ll react. What if you think he’s ugly, or weird, or repulsive? What if you wince at the sight of him, or cower when he tries to touch you or make you touch him?

He’s so scared, so when you run your hands along his arms and tell him he’s handsome, he’s staring at you with wide eyes. He’s simultaneously hateful and in love with the vulnerability you make him feel, so please, please compliment him during sex.

He needs the validation that you like him, that he’s making you feel good, and while he’ll never actually say it aloud, your words turn him on more than you know. Just hearing his name roll off your tongue has his eyes rolling backwards, his fingers twitching with the urge to touch you, to feel your soft skin. He loves when you tell him sweet things about his body; tell him he’s attractive, that you love how strong he is, that you love how muscular his arms are.

Tell him his eyes are pretty, that you love tunneling your fingers through his hair while he fucks you with his tongue, that you love the way his fingers stretch you out and get you seeing stars.

Compliment the things that he does in bed; tell him that you love how he growls and bites at your neck with those sharp teeth of his, that you love when he manhandles you and grunts into your ear as he rolls his hips into yours.

And of course, tell him how he makes you feel – he’ll groan your name and his hips will stutter if you say his cock feels so – so good Gyutaro, mm please! Need more, need more of you –

Tell him that he feels so good inside of you, that he’s going to make you come because it’s all too much, and you’ll see him physically freeze up, his eyes wide and a bit of drool slipping from the corner of his mouth because god, are you talking about him?

Moan his name and make a show of writhing around underneath him, arching your back and gasping out that he’s so big! T’s too much Gyu, gonna make me come!

Tell him anything and everything that comes to your mind, the more depraved the better. He likes to hear you become reduced to incoherent whimpers because of him, and with each praise that slips past your lips, Gyutaro feels his confidence slowly rise until he’s fucking into you with reckless abandon.

He’ll be bearing his teeth and whispering the filthiest things into your ear, the confidence boosting his system like nothing else. He’s calling you his, possessive petnames right and left as he practically abuses your cunt with his cock, pounding into you with such fervor that it’s almost like he’s trying to mold your pussy into the shape of his cock.

He’s demanding you tell him how he feels; growls of tell me what you want me to do to you filling the space between you, the panting breaths and moans rushing into the empty air. He’s telling you to take it, f-fuck, so damn tight, do I make you this tight, huh?

He wants you to mindlessly agree, to clutch onto his body and squeeze around him, milking him for absolutely everything he can give to you until you’re spasming around his cock, coming all over him and whimpering underneath him, your pretty eyes staring up at him with tears beading in your lashes from the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving to you.

And if you were to worship any part of his body?

He’s not sure what you’re doing at first – why are you sinking to your knees and moving so slowly in front of him? You’re taking your time with his cock, letting your eyes gaze over every single inch of him, the attention making his neck flush and embarrassing him. And yet, he doesn’t stop you – because when you whisper out that he’s so pretty, I love your cock Gyutaro, he nearly malfunctions, his nails digging into his palms as his hips involuntarily jerk, his cock bobbing slightly with the motion.

He wants you to kiss every inch of him, to suckle on his tip and let your tongue dip into his hypersensitive slit, the sensation making him gasp sharply and his eyes close tightly.

He wants you to gently fondle his balls, to whisper against his skin in between licks against his shaft that you wanna taste you, can I please taste you Gyu? Wanna make you come, you look so pretty when you do…

He’ll let you do anything you damn well please when you’ve got him like this – his eyes are watching your every move, his breath hitched, his heart fluttering in his chest as his orgasm comes much too soon, the emotional weight of your words and adoring actions making him desperate to give you the cum you claim you need.

He just really, really likes when you give him positive attention in the bedroom, so please narrate everything you’re feeling. He wants to know every possible detail, and he’ll strive to keep touching and pleasing you until you’re screaming his name and a jumbled, slurred series of yes and please and I love you. 

Breast Fixation

Gyutaro, to put it lightly, develops a sort of fascination with your chest. He has no sexual experience with women, and consequently has neither felt nor seen a living, naked woman’s breasts before.

Of course, he’s been curious; victims he’s in the middle of devouring who’s clothing has slipped down in the process of his meal, where their tits are hanging out of the fabric, looking soft and supple and perfect to touch. He’ll reach out and halfheartedly squeeze, but the dead flesh isn’t the same as a living, breathing woman’s – besides, his hunger is too strong for him to really process how soft, pliable, and squishy it is.

And so, once he has you, someone to fantasize about and imagine naked (frequently), Gyutaro is suddenly very interested in seeing what you look like shirtless. He’s always paid close attention to the way your chest looks in your kimonos; the fabric tightening through there, as if your breasts were practically begging to be freed, exposed to the world and awaiting eyes like his.

He’s always noticed the way your top exposes the line of your cleavage when you bend down to pick something up, your tits pressed together by your arms while he gets a front row seat that leaves his pants feeling tight and his throat dry.

Before he steals you away, frequent nights are spent with the image of you straddling his lap playing through his mind. He’ll imagine the way you’d shimmy out of your top, exposing your breasts to his greedy eyes, the soft flesh sitting only a few tantalizing inches away from his face.

He’d focus in on your nipples, imagining the way they’d slowly pebble from the cold air, growing tight and taut while he’s left to drool, his fingers begging to reach out and pinch, twist, and pull. He’ll imagine the way you’d look down at him with a soft smile, cupping his cheeks and asking in that soft, breathy whisper of yours if he’d touch them please Gyutaro, I want you to play with me…

He wouldn’t need to be told twice, his hands immediately reaching up to cautiously grope and squeeze.

He’s nervous at first, his touches hesitant, but as he wraps a hand around your left breast and squeezes lightly, the sigh you make in response has him gulping and squeezing harder, his other hand following suit until he’s massaging and groping at your tits like they’re his personal stress balls.

He’s painfully hard below you, his cock desperate for stimulation, but as you push his head closer to your breasts he nearly loses his mind; he’s quick to envelope a nipple into his mouth, closing his eyes while he sucks and licks at the bud as you hum and praise him, little whispers of mmm, just like that baby going straight to his cock.

He twitches with every little keen you make, and this fantasy carries over into his sex life with you. Very, very early on you’ll notice that he’s always staring at your tits whenever you’re intimate with him.

When he’s bathing you, he’s staring and gulping, not doing well to hide the way he’s very clearly ogling.

When you’re changing, he’s quickly glancing away after you catch him stealing looks at you, his cheeks pink as he holds his hands over the tent slowly forming in his pants.

And once you start fucking?

Well, you’ve noticed his fascination, and you’ll capitalize on it. Grab his cock and trace your nipples with the tip, and just watch the way he shivers, his eyes unable to look away while he whispers a gravelly fuck under his voice.

Play with your tits as you wait for him to undress, pouting up at him and begging him to hurry up, to come fuck you please, you’re too horny to wait.

Push your breasts together and ask him to fuck them, telling him it’ll feel so good, and how you want him to leave his cum all over the soft skin.

Purposefully bounce more than you actually need when he fucks you while you’re on your back, so that the fat jiggles even more and watch the way his eyes widen, his pupils dilating as he fucks into you with new fervor.

Grope and squeeze at them as he hovers over you in missionary, and you’ll feel the way his thrusts grow faster, harder, more desperate, his eyes trained on the way you work at the soft, supple flesh.

The root of his love for your breasts really comes from just how soft they are; he’s not used to anything as welcoming or comforting as your chest, and when you let him rest his head there, fall asleep behind you with a hand cupping one, letting him idly suckle at a nipple as you card your fingers through his hair, how can Gyutaro not grow to love them?

And love them he will – the copious amounts of love marks, bruises and hickeys littering the sensitive skin will make his obsession more than obvious, as will the way he essentially creams his pants the first time his fingers brush against them.

The large stain against the fabric and the slack-jawed, red-faced expression he gives you will have you more than aware that just a simple flash of your tits will leave Gyutaro puddy in your hands, willing to do anything for you.

Hand Holding

It’s not really a kink, but as your sexual relationship with Gyutaro progresses, you’ll find that more often than not he manages to snake his hand into yours. When he’s fucking you in missionary, hips smacking against you fast and hard, he’s holding your hands above your head, gritting his teeth and whining in your ear because you’re too – too fucking tight, shit, ‘m gonna come, you want that? You want my cum in you?

He’ll start off with his hand wrapped around your wrist, but as the sex continues and he gets closer to his orgasm, he’ll switch to interlacing his fingers with yours, pressing your hand hard against the mattress, the tendons in his hands and forearms flexing as his abs and balls clench up, warm cum flooding your cunt and leaving him gasping your name.

When he’s got you bent over, pretty ass on display as he stuffs you full with his cock, he’ll lean over you, a large hand covering one of yours, dwarfing yours and overwhelming you even more, his body literally covering every inch of yours.

Even when perched on top of him, grinding against him and biting your lip because it feel so very good, he’ll alternate between cupping the globes of your ass and catching your hand, clutching it in his hand as he tries to keep his grounding and not come too quickly.

Frankly, it’s almost unconscious – he doesn’t actively realize it’s happening until you point it out to him, in which case he’ll grow defensive, telling you that you’re wrong and mistaken, embarrassed to admit that he naturally does something so human, so weak and gentle.

But really, it’s just another way to extend the intimacy with you – you’re so pretty and sweet and so very lovely, and though he’s kidnapped you and forced you into some twisted form of a relationship with him, there’s something about the moments where he’s inside of you that leaves him feeling fuzzy, warm, wanted. And perhaps it’s the centuries of neglect and self-hatred that lead him to desperately chase that feeling of security and acceptance, or perhaps it’s just natural instinct left over from his human days.

Regardless, Gyutaro will almost exclusively only ever orgasm if your hand is somehow touching his – he needs that intimacy to let himself finish, emptying himself inside of you while clutching onto you, keeping you there and steady and still, stopping you from squirming away or escaping when he’s trying to give you his cum, gifting you with the most intimate, personal thing he could. And when he’s coming, he’s squeezing at your hand, hard.

The pleasure is just so overwhelming, and he needs something to grasp onto, something to keep him grounded and keep him from rutting into you and humping you into overstimulation, his cries and warbled moans sounding pitiful. He doesn’t mean to crush your hand, but sometimes he’ll hold so tightly that you wind up with big finger-shaped bruises across your palms and the back of your hands, the sight making Gyutaro ashamed because he hadn’t meant to hurt you, but also pleased because now he’s marked you.

There’ll be a constant reminder of him every time you look down at your hands, every time you do basic tasks or touch things. It's a thought that makes him weirdly smug, and so while Gyutaro will often try to deny your accusations of him always holding your hand during sex, but he knows it’s true.

(But really, you should be grateful it’s just your hand – at least it’s not your throat, where he’s much likelier to lose control.)

But even outside of when he orgasms, Gyutaro really, really likes to hold your hands. His favorite time to consciously do it is when he’s got you perched in his lap, his chin resting on your shoulder while you lean back against his chest.

He’ll want you fully nude so that he’s free to explore and roam your body with his hands, occasionally pinching at your stomach or groping at your breast. He wants you sat on his cock, the hard length nestled inside of you while you both simply bask in each other’s presence, him turning to bury his nose against your neck and deeply inhaling, his cock twitching inside of you.

Gyutaro grows a penchant for cockwarming with you as time goes by, because while he doesn’t always want to fuck you (though it’s not too terribly difficult to persuade him – just say please and he’s putty in your hands, so frantic to get his cock out that he’s ripping at the bandages of his pants) there’s something about the intimacy of being inside you but just cuddling you or holding you that satisfies his clinginess.

Plus, this way he can indulge in the feeling of your cunt in a non-sexual way – you’re just so warm and inviting, taking his breath away every time without fail, the sensation so lovely and foreign to him that he wants to spend every possible moment inside of you, even if he’s not fucking you stupid. And the whole time he's lodged inside you like this, his fingers are wrapped around yours, marveling at the size different and tracing the lines and patterns on your hand.

They’re just so much softer and better than his – so innocent and not capable of so much death and destruction as his. You’re just so cute, in a way that makes him crazy, and he’d be stupid to not take advantage of having someone like you to touch and taste and share his best.

And Gyutaro is many things, but stupid is not one of them.

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Cock Worship

Although Gyutaro isn’t an inherently selfish lover, he can’t deny that having you fawn over him gets him hot under the collar, his pants growing uncomfortably tight and his mouth feeling dry. There’s just something about the idea of you worshipping him that gets him equal parts mortified and horribly aroused.

To have all of your attention on him in a non-sexual context steals his breath away, making him struggle to seem interesting and cool and attractive, even if he knows he isn’t. And so, in a sexual context this is only amplified – he wants you to like him, to find his body and him generally attractive, and to have you blatantly doing that during sex would make his head spin, embarrassment eating him alive even as he enjoys every second of it.

And to have you worship any part of his body is wonderful, but to have you worship between his legs?

Well, his cock’s not especially pretty, and he knows it – it’s long, long enough that it’s right on the border between hurting and pleasurable when he sinks inside all the way to the hilt. It’s sensitive, always leaking precum so it’s sticky and wet and glistening, with a set of heavy, swollen balls sprinkled with black hairs hung right below.

It’s intimidating and will leave you a bit nervous of how he’ll possibly fit inside of you, but Gyutaro’s eyes roll to the back of his head when he sees and feels your fingers wrap around him, pumping and flicking your wrist at the tip, the sensation of you jerking him off making his hips buck up into the air.

Having you give him long, slow, lazy pumps of your fist while you list off all the reasons you love his cock in between sloppy, wet kisses would have Gyutaro coming in mere minutes, the attention and praise going directly between his legs.

When you’re on your knees in front of him, make him shudder and flush by gripping him, making a show of licking from the base to the tip, suckling on the swollen, red tip and flicking your tongue against his slit, dipping in slightly and feeling the way he throbs in your mouth.

Move down to fondle and suck at his balls – if you’re able to fit a whole one in your mouth, you’ll hear a strangled s-stop, stop stop stop ‘m gonna come too fast, the pleasure literally too much for him to handle.

Give him the erotic sight of you tracing the outline of your lips with his tip, smearing precum all over them so that they’re glistening with a clear, off-white sheen. Rub the outside of your cheek against his length while you stare up at him, licking your lips and smiling, and you’ll literally see his face turning red, his sharp teeth biting at his lip and drawing blood because fuck, you’re so sexy and provocative and having you say that you love his cock is making his heart flutter.

And when he’s inside you, thrusting in and out and making you clench and tighten up, purposefully flex the muscles, making everything tighter and more intense, telling him that he deserves the tightest you can offer, and feel the way he immediately busts inside of you, the groan that forces its way past his lips sounding pained and desperate and pathetic.

 Which brings us to another major facet of his enjoyment of cock worship – please worship his cum. It’s a bit runny and thin, shooting out of him in long spurts, always wickedly warm and getting absolutely everywhere. Let him come inside you – whine out a  please give it to me Gyutaro, need you to come for me, please please want your cum!

He’s stuffing you full every time he fucks you, those yellow eyes of his eagerly watching it ooze out of you after he’s pulled out. When you’re sucking and licking at him, let him push your head as far down as you can go, sending rope after rope down your throat, his nails digging into your scalp as he gives a few sad last spurts, only a drop or so managing to hit your tongue.

Let him pull out of your mouth and give himself a few good tugs, cum splattering all over your face while he groans your name and a slurred take it. Lick it off your lips and look up at him with cum all over your cheeks and chin, and you’ll see the way he snarls and throws you onto the makeshift bed he shares with you, immediately ripping your thighs apart and diving into you like a man starved, the wet noises of his tongue diving between your folds absolutely depraved.  

You’re just so, so very wonderful when you’re worshipping him, so please do – one the bright side, it’s the absolute fastest way to get him to come, just as long as you sound like you really mean it.

Spitting

This kink is one that takes both you and Gyutaro by surprise. It happens very suddenly, and it takes a moment for both of you to process exactly what’s happened, Gyutaro’s spit sitting against your tongue and tasting like him.

It’s a manifestation of his possessiveness over you – you’re his. His little human, his lovely woman, his pretty cunt to touch and fuck and bury himself inside of for hours on end. And so, when he’s got you folded into a mating press, strong arms keeping your thighs pinned to your chest with absolutely no wiggle room, your face all screwed up in pleasure and your occasional gasps of his name, how can Gyutaro not want to mark you as his?

You’ll find that he often uses those possessive nicknames for you in the bedroom too, always going on and on about how you’re his girl, his cunt, his love.

And really, spitting in your mouth and on you is just a natural progression of this sentiment. He starts off with spitting onto your breasts – a glob of saliva landing on a sensitive nipple, making everything slick as he pinches and toys with the area, hearing you keen above him.

Then it’ll transition to him spitting onto your collarbone, rubbing the wetness over the bone, leaning down to suck dark hickeys against your skin, getting the area even more sticky with his saliva.

He’ll move on to spitting directly onto your cunt after that, spreading your pretty folds and letting the spit land right over your quivering hole, loving the way you jerk slightly at the weird sensation. It makes it easier when he fingers you, just that extra layer of wetness making his fingers glide in and out of you, pulling moans and whines from your lips.

He’ll spit at your asshole when he’s got you bent over, thumb rubbing against the hole and only slightly dipping in, enjoying the way you yelp and get all tense.

It’s only after he’s grown comfortable with spitting all over your body that he finally ends up seeing your open mouth under him as he fucks you with fast, harsh thrusts, hovering above you and staring down at you without blinking. He’ll spit directly onto your tongue, staring with panting breaths, before telling you in that familiar strained voice to swallow, his eyes watching the way your throat bobs as you do what he says.

It’s hot, really – the kind of thing that makes his cock twitch and bob, the idea that you have his saliva inside of you making something in his gut sit pleasantly.

And if you were to spit in his mouth, Gyutaro would actually fucking whimper. He wants you to be possessive over him, to want him all to yourself, to think of him as yours – and if you were to be riding him, hips clapping against his as you milk him for everything he’s worth, Gyutaro would gladly open his mouth wide, waiting with baited breath and shut eyes to feel your warm spit against his tongue. He’ll swallow for you, even opening his mouth again in case you’re feeling generous and want to give him more.

He just thinks it’s hot, and he’d be more than willing to bring spitting into your non-sexual lives too – it’s just so intimate and meaningful, don’t you agree?

BIGGEST FANTASY:

As a general rule, Gyutaro is a massive fan of touching you.

There’s quite literally nothing about your body or yourself that could ever turn him off; he thinks every inch of you is exquisite, no matter what your personal qualms may be. And because he thinks of you as something so wonderful and sweet and his, he finds everything that your body does equally as arousing as your pretty face.

 And so, while he’s never given it much thought, the moment he smells blood in the air around you, he’s immediately fighting off both his appetite and the intense fear coursing through him because why the fuck are you bleeding?

He’s not sure what’s going on initially, until he follows the blood source and finds it to be between your trembling legs. You’re scared, understandably, at why he’s so suddenly yanking your legs apart, eyes boring right into your crotch, but when he starts ripping at the cloth covering you, there’s not much you can do.

And so, once you explain what’s going on after his frantic why are you bleeding is asked in a panicked voice, suddenly Gyutaro is stiffening up, his thoughts running wild. He’d always been just slightly curious – you smell so sweet, and while there’s no part of him that desires to eat you, there’s something about the way your blood smells, the way you smell…

He quickly learns that having sex with you while you’re on your period is his absolute favorite. You’re so sensitive and pliable, your face screwing up at even the slightest presses of his fingers against your clit, your pussy always wet with blood, easy to slip his fingers in and out of.

He loves it, and the way your smell grows even more pronounced during this time has his head spinning, and fuck the taste –

He thinks he’s lost his mind the first time his lips touch your pussy with a smear of your blood across it, the sweet and metallic taste making his hips involuntarily jerk, his orgasm dangerously close already.

He’s always, always willing to pleasure you while you’re menstruating, to the point where he’s actively offering once he smells that familiar tinge of metal in the air, practically begging you with those half lidded eyes to let me make you feel good, yeah? I’ll be gentle, or at least I’ll try.

He’s careful with his motions at first, though it doesn’t last long – his fingers press into your thighs, nails dangerously close to piercing the skin, while his tongue laps at your cunt like a man starved.

Besides, aren’t orgasms healthy for women, especially during this time of the month? He’s heard so from the other Oirans (in hushed, embarrassed whispers), and what kind of a lover would he be if he didn’t attempt to take care of your every need? 

You winced, the cramps in your lower stomach making shifting your sitting position difficult. Your period had arrived very suddenly – it was just starting, and a quick swipe of your fingers below your panties had you sighing in frustration. The dank light of the lair was bright enough to show the red stain of your fingers as you retracted your hand, and with a dejected sloop of your shoulders you leaned back against the dirt wall. Eyes closed, you let your arms wrap around your stomach, resigned to the knowledge that you’ll bleed out through your clothes and onto the dirt ground below before you’d ever ask Gyutaro for sanitary supplies. 

Not that he’d say no – although, maybe that scared you more. 

Daki scrunched up her nose as she registered the smell, sending you a look. “What’s that stench?”

You bit your lip, quickly apologizing. “I’m sorry, it should be over in…” 

Unsure of how much Daki knew of menstruation, you left the question unanswered, instead wincing as another cramp rolled through. She grunted, her brow twitching as she crossed her arms. “Aren’t you going to answer me?”

You glanced at her, begging with your eyes for her to leave it alone, and despite her scowl, she merely sighed and pivoted on her heel, jumping up to race out of the lair and into the night air far above. You sighed as well, closing your eyes and relaxing as much as you could. 

Your relaxation was cut short, however, as a loud bang and a voice wailed out, “Why is there blood? What’s going on?”

Gyutaro had arrived, and as you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of him rushing forward, grabbing a knee in each hand and spreading your legs with a surprising amount of force. 

“From here…” He muttered, head leaning down as his gaze focused on your clothed pussy, the kimono and underwear you’d been dressed in earlier that day already seeped through with blood. The red stained the fabric, sending Gyutaro into a further state of panic. 

Nails dug into his neck and chest as he stared wildly at you, leaning deeply into your personal space as he growled, “What happened?”

You shrank back, stuttering out, “I – I’m menstruating.”

Gyutaro blinked, his breath heavy with the panic still running through him. “What?”

“I’m menstruating. I’m okay, I’m – I’m not injured.” Your voice was weak, but Gyutaro didn’t seem to notice. 

“What is menstruation?” He asked, the scratching sound of his fingers against his neck still prominent in your ears. “Well?”

“It’s um, a sign that I’m fertile…” You whispered, fear squeezing at your heart. 

Gyutaro stared at you for a moment, before glancing down between your legs. “Are you in pain? Does it hurt?”

You shook your head, hoping he’d believe the lie. 

A moment passed, before he visibly gulped. He slowly lied down on his stomach, his hands frozen for a second before suddenly ripping at your clothing. The area surrounding your pussy was ripped off, exposing yourself to the cold air as you gasped and shivered. The sudden motions were over before you can blink, Gyutaro’s eyes trained on your bloodstained folds. 

He looked like a child in a candy store; dilated pupils, his breathing heavy, lips parted enough to allow drool to pool at the edges. You closed your eyes, willing yourself to not flinch when he was this close to you, especially as you saw his razor sharp teeth. 

You yelped when a finger reached out to very lightly brush over your pussy, his skin just barely grazing your own. You bit your lip. 

He repeated his ministration, adding a bit more pressure. A moan slipped past your lips as his finger passed over your clit, and immediately you clamped a hand over your mouth, eyes wide as his gaze snaped back up to you. His face was bright red, you realized, the blush heavy over his cheeks as licked at his lips. With his gaze still locked on yours, he pressed back on that same spot, your clit oversensitive and making you lowly groan, your thighs involuntarily jerking as he began rubbing up and down the area. 

“G-gyutaro…” You whined out, tucking your lower lip under your teeth as you lightly squirmed. He watched with rapt attention. You seemed to be enjoying yourself – do you like being touched while you’re ‘menstruating’? As long as you weren’t injured with all this blood – this blood, that was such an intoxicating, delicious scent, the best thing he’s ever smelled. 

With a small, wobbly smile up at you, Gyutaro suddenly dove in, lips pressing against your folds as you gasped and jerked your hips, sending him in even deeper so that his nose brushed against your clit. You gasped his name, encouraging him to dart his tongue out, your blood immediately registered on his taste buds. His eyes blew wide, his hips jerking forward against the ground, the sudden wave of arousal because of your scent making his knees feel weak. He moaned around your skin, his tongue eagerly licking and getting to work against your sensitive skin. 

Groans and whimpers vibrated against you, his sounds rivaling your own as you moaned and reached a hand down to run through his hair. Gyutaro’s grip on your thighs tightened at the feeling, and when you tugged a bit at the roots, the growl that left his lips had your pussy clenching around nothing. 

“Gyu-“ You started, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensitivity of his tongue on you. It was too much – the pleasure too acute, but as a hand left the plush of your thighs and instead snaked down to press against your clit, you gasped. 

A strangled moan slipped past your lips as Gyutaro worked his finger in circles against your bundle of nerves, his tongue still licking and slurping against your folds. The combination of the stimulation had your head spinning, the sensation nearly too much, and as you whined out his name and dug your fingers even more harshly against his scalp, Gyutaro couldn’t help but moan in response. 

You tasted so fucking good – the best blood he’s ever feasted on. Sweet, yet savory, a taste entirely your own. His cock was achingly hard in his pants, pressing against the bandaged cloth as he ground his hips against the dirt floor of the lair, the pressure not nearly enough to relieve the terrible ache. He wanted more more more – more of you, more of your perfect little pussy, more of the sounds slipping past your lips, more of the taste of your blood. 

Soon you were shaking, thighs trembling as your orgasm crashed through you, your head throwing back as you cried out, slick and blood mixed together on Gyutaro’s tongue, chin and fingers. His thumb never stopped its motions, continuing the bliss as you slowly came down from your high, your clit nearly rubbed raw as the overstimulation began hitting you. 

Squirming, you tried to push his head away from your cunt, but Gyutaro’s growl had you stopping quickly. 

Pulling back slightly (only enough to speak), Gyutaro warned in a low voice out of breath, “Don’t move, stay still or I’ll make you come so much you cry.”

You only gulped and nodded, the feeling of his nails pressing into your thigh making you shiver, your hips jerking at the overwhelming sensation of Gyutaro’s ministrations. 

“Tastes so good, so so so good –“ Gyutaro moaned, the sound muffled against your skin as he gulped and sucked at your pussy, nearly making out with your delicate folds. You whined, squeezing your eyes shut tightly – it was too much. 

But for Gyutaro, it’d never be enough; after all, how could he let such a delicacy between your legs be taken for granted? Especially when you looked so pretty all panting and bloody once he’d fucked you with his tongue, fingers and cock more times than you could count.

[daistea]

Could you do a suggestive mithrun x tallman reader fic where the reader somehow managed to become friends with mithrun and they ask if they can touch his ears out of curiosity (I just like the idea of elf ears being sensitive)

Ya! This one was fun 💕 thanks for the prompt!

1800 words

Mithrun x Tall-man Reader

no tws except for smoochin and a suggestive tone

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

You had a measure of decorum. Not much, though. A teaspoon, maybe. A teaspoon of decorum. Yet, that still existing decorum nearly stopped you from doing what you currently wanted the most:

To touch an elf’s ear.

Pattadol said no. Fleki laughed at you and said ‘keep dreaming’ as if you’d just hit on her. Lycion became a bit flirty in a way that threatened you. Cithis also said no. Otta… also said no, out of loyalty to her current partner. Otta’s response made you wonder what the implications of ear touching were to elves. Was it intimate? Was it embarrassing for them? Was it considered rude if you didn’t know the person well, like how using a half-foot’s first name was considered rude for strangers? That teaspoon of decorum caused you to hesitate.

Mithrun, though, wouldn’t care. Mithrun hardly cared about anything. And you were friends, sort of. He didn’t outright call you his friend, but that was fine, you could live with that. He put up with you. That was fine. Fine.

You knocked on the door of the little apartment above the noodle shop. Mithrun’s monotone, though muffled, voice told you to come inside. You found Mithrun on the floor, on his knees and hunched over the baseboards. He wielded a toothbrush like a dagger as he scrubbed at the nonexistent dust, and only spared you a glance, but said no greeting.

It wasn’t the first time you’d seen Mithrun clean like that. It was yet another habit Milsiril had instilled in him during rehabilitation, though you had a theory that Milsiril only taught him to clean so ardently because she thought it would come in handy for hiding murder evidence.

Mithrun’s home was simple. It was near empty aside from the most basic furniture. Yourself, Kabru, and several of the Canaries had given him little decorations. The pillows on the couch with the badly embroidered cows on them were from Otta. The simple, thick white curtains were from Pattadol. The painting of Mithrun’s assist dog dressed in royal garb was from Lycion. And most of the utensils in the kitchen were from you, given to him after you saw him attempt to eat spaghetti with a spoon— he knew better, but couldn’t be bothered to buy proper utensils.

As you took a moment to watch Mithrun scrub, your mind began to wander. Was this truly worth it? You’d only recently read about how soft elf ears were, yet you hadn’t been able to get the thought out of your mind. And they were so cute, too, with how they drooped and perked up. You’d even seen Mithrun’s ears droop when he pulled his hair back. It wasn’t as pronounced as other elves’ but no less endearing.

“What do you need?” Mithrun’s voice yanked you from your mind. It was as if he’d grabbed your shirt and pulled you forward, making you stumble for words.

It would be easiest to just blurt it out. He wouldn’t be offended. He might give you the look, but it wouldn’t bother him, surely. Yet, it was as if you’d hit a mental wall. What seemed like such a simple request ended up stuck in your throat, refusing to climb.

Mithrun sat back on his haunches and raised his head to look at you. He rested his forearms on his knees, toothbrush dangling from his fingers. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and there were his ears.

You knew that look. He was expecting something. And he would stare in silence until you blurted it out.

“I want something,” you finally said.

“I already asked what you wanted,” Mithrun reminded, monotone.

“Technically, you asked what I needed, and this isn’t really a need. I mean, it feels like a need, but it’s really not. I can live without it. However, I would like it. It would please me.”

Mithrun didn’t miss a beat, “And you know how much I wish to please you.”

“Okay, smartass, tone it down,” you put up a hand, shooting him a glare, “I’m really nervous, so don’t make this harder for me.”

“I wasn’t kidding.”

“No, you were being sarcastic.”

“I wasn’t being sarcastic.”

“You’re just trying to make me squirm,” you accused, “you’ve become a sadist after regaining your desires, huh? You like watching me struggle?”

Mithrun only slightly raised a brow, “A bit. But use your ears, I wasn’t being sardonic.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you couldn’t help but pause. “...I’m going to think about the implications of that statement at a later date. For now, on the subject of ears, I have a request.”

He finally stood, brushing past you to deposit the cleaning brush into the sink and washing his hands in a water basin. After drying them, he went to pull the rubber band from his hair, but you made a panicked squeak at the sight, which gave him pause.

“Don’t,” you pleaded as he looked at you blankly, “keep your hair up.”

If Mithrun was confused by the request, he gave no hint. He kept his hair up, though, as he strode through the little apartment and sat on the couch, gesturing for you to join him. You’d done this a hundred times before, sitting next to him in comfortable silence as you both focused on your own things— Cithis called it ‘parallel play’ as if you were kids on a playdate. You’d spent hours on this couch, resting an arm over the back of it as you curled your feet up and talked. Mithrun would usually cross his arms and fold one leg over the other, staring at the wall as if he were ignoring you. He wasn’t, he never did— sometimes he did, but you forgave him.

You took a deep breath as you plopped down beside him gracelessly, your nerves taking over your joints and rendering you a clumsy mess. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous, though, it wasn’t as if this was a big request. It would only last a few seconds, and you’d have your curiosity sated. If Mithrun didn’t want you to touch his ears, he would simply tell you, and you’d both move on with your lives.

Yet, Otta’s earlier answer rang in your mind. She wouldn’t let you touch her ears ‘out of loyalty.’ What did that mean?

It was yet another statement that you’d have to consider at a later time. For the moment, you tried your best to get comfortable as the request rose in your chest. It was undeniable.

The words broke through the dam and flooded your mouth. “I would like to touch your ears, please.”

You watched as Mithrun stiffened. His good eye widened for half a second before he schooled his expression. He didn’t look at you, gaze glued to the wall, but the slight raise of his brows betrayed his surprise. Surprise. Why was he surprised? Was ear touching offensive in elven culture? Mithrun didn’t even acknowledge elven culture most of the time.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he looked at you. Your heart clenched and it felt as if someone had punched both your lungs, but you managed a smile. You knew you looked stupid, shoulders slumped and eyes wide and smile shaken. But he didn’t look at you like you were stupid, he looked at you like you’d just spoken gibberish.

“You want to feel my ears?” He asked.

You nodded, “Yeah, I like soft things, and they look pretty soft. I asked the other Canaries first and they all said no.”

Mithrun cracked a little smile. It was barely there, but you could feel the amusement coming off him in waves. “Of course they would all say no. They know better.”

You weren’t sure what that meant, but he’d yet to give you a straight answer. “Whatever. Can I please just feel them, at least a little? Then I’ll never ask you for anything again.” (That was a lie and you both knew it.)

Nonetheless, Mithrun’s gaze flickered around the room. It didn’t look like he was scanning anything in particular, but rather letting the thought absorb. Once he returned to you, he slowly nodded, “I doubt I have any nerve endings left, so it’s fine.”

Nerve endings? It didn’t matter, you were so close to your goal. Some called you single minded, you preferred the description of ‘determined.’

Slowly, you raised a hand. The moment felt monumental. The air was thick with anticipation that set you on edge, raising the little hairs on your arms. You let out an exhale as if to prepare yourself, then gently brushed your fingers on the soft skin of his cut ears.

You traced the jagged tip. Then the lobe. Then the back. Mithrun leaned into your touch and his eyes threatened to flutter shut, but he managed to send you a look, “Don’t look so excited.”

“Yes, sir,” you answered immediately as you tried to school your expression.

He let his guard down, his eyes shutting as he exhaled slowly. There was a hint of gravel in that exhale that sparked a fire in your lower abdomen.

You should probably stop.

“There are definitely nerve endings left,” he murmured.

You gently took his other ear and began rubbing the tip.

Mithrun lowered his head a little, brows furrowing and lips forming a frustrated frown. He leaned in. Only when you looked down did you notice how tightly he gripped his pants. His knuckles were turning white. The sight just made you want to press a little harder…

Wait.

If you’re getting hot, and if Mithrun is breathing that heavily, then—

Otta’s words made sense. Lycion’s flirting made sense. Elf ears are erogenous zones.

You’d asked every Canary if you could basically touch their privates.

More horrifyingly, you’d asked Mithrun if you could touch his—

It felt as if your face was on fire. You tensed, slowly pulling back, but Mithrun’s hands went to your cheeks before you could react. And his lips were on yours. Eager. Hungry. That spark in your abdomen flared and spread and suddenly you were a bonfire. He held your face a bit roughly, and the kiss was desperate. You should probably kiss back, you thought.

You let yourself melt into the feeling, but kept your fingers on his ears, gently massaging the soft skin. He let out a gasp between kisses before diving back in. His chest pressed against yours and you took the hint to lean back on the couch so he could slip between your legs and consume you entirely.

The mortification concerning the fact that you’d unknowingly sexually harassed all your friends was temporarily set aside. At the moment, all you knew was Mithrun, and this new power over him that your curiosity had bestowed upon you.

You will, most likely, use it for evil.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

[sonolynn]

Death's Grasp

request | Omg your prompts!🧎‍♀️Requesting an intense "I'll make death pry me away from you." with aegon x highborn reader?

summary | After a disturbing vision, the court's Seer fears for Aegon's life.

pairing | Aegon x Fem!Seer!Reader

tags | TW!!! Descriptions of blood, murder, and battle. Swearing, OOC Aegon, swearing, implications of sexual themes, mentions of war

w.c | 1.6 k

note(s) | This fic is out of the cannon of either the show and the book for my own sanity. Also, mixing a little bit of Norse mythology into the mix! Also, I took more of a creative liberty with this request so I hope it's okay!

____________________________________________

Aegon was screaming on the battlefield, pointing towards the field and motioning for people to run. He looked frantic. His silver-blonde hair messy with soot and blood. He was panting, almost hyperventilation as the fear and anxiety coursed through his veins like a raging flood as he sent more soldiers to their death. 

You were imobile, cursed to watch as Aegon fought freakishly messy; so different from how he normally fought. You saw it clearly now, you saw his demise before him. You watched as your lover was impaled by a sword. How convenient that it was through his back. 

As if in shock himself, Aegon looked down at the sword as he fell to his knees, holding a cupped hand underneath the blade as the blood pooled from the wound. The man behind Aegon put his foot on the king’s back, grunting as he pulled the sword from your lover's body. Blood spilled from Aegon’s mouth, causing the man to choke violently. 

Aegon looked up, straight into your eyes as he coughed out your name; a final tribute to the women he’d never see again. As he breathed your name one last time, his face fell and he slumped against the ground. 

You felt sick as the next part of your vision flashed before you, a clear vision of Aegon’s head, eyes closed and unevenly severed, held in the hand of the enemy. 

____________________________________________

You awake with a scream, holding your shaky hands over your mouth as the images of Aegon’s death stay fresh in your mind. You had had visions before, all of which had come to pass. But this one was more vivid than the others, more integral than the others.  

You breathed heavily, placing your hands in your hair and taking deep breaths to ground yourself. Your breath slowed, and your hands stopped shaking. But, the anxiety that stemmed from this vision stayed on your mind like that of the smell of a newly lit candle. 

Unable to deal with the beads of anxiety burrowing themselves in your veins, you hurriedly threw the covers off of you and rushed to Aegon. 

____________________________________________

“Aegon the Dragon Cock!” One of Aegon’s imprudent men that surrounded his inner circle shouted. You walked down the steps of the throne room, and looked around,  seeing the men and their drunken display. Aegon laughed at the notion, smiling and pointing to his friend as he bounced happily like a child seeing a new toy. 

“Yes! Yes, that one!” 

“Aegon.” You spoke softly, and the minute your face broke through the laughter of men, Aegon turned, a smile on his face. 

“My love! Don’t you agree! “Aegon the dragon cock! Isn’t it perfect…” His voice trailed off. He watched you closely, noticing your disheveled appearance and bare feet. “My love?” He was quick to dismiss his men, quickly walking down the steps of the throne to stand before you. He placed a free hand on your cheek, cocking his head to the side as he studied your expression. 

“Having fun, your grace?” Aegon rolled his eyes at the question and he gave you a look. 

“You are my betrothed, you needn’t refer to me as such.” His voice was soft, and he smiled gently at you whilst stroking your cheekbone. “What is with the look?” You stayed silent for a moment, not wishing to truly tell him the cause of your displeasure. Aegon had never truly believed in your gift; The gift to see what others didn’t. Only recently, when you had told him he would become the next king of the seven kingdoms did he acknowledge that perhaps you did have a gift. 

“...I’ve missed you.” You replied, the lie hot on your tongue. Aegon smirked at this, turning and placing his cup on a nearby table. 

“We saw each other a mere..two hours ago. Was I that good, my love?” The sight of his teasing smile, and the look on his face made you breakdown. Tears ran down your cheeks, and your hands started to shake again as you were reminded of what your vision had held within itself. 

Aegon gazed at your melancholic expression made him stop, and he paused. He quickly walked back towards you.

“Darling-” He stopped when you took a step back and held a hand out. Aegon frowned deeply and he gave you a look. “...You’ve had one of those visions, haven’t you?” 

“Yes.” 

“And it has something to do with me, I presume?” You nodded. In frustration Aegon groaned, holding a hand to his forehead as he sighed. “You and those pointless visions-” 

“They are not pointless, Aegon! They hold meaning. The gods gave me this gift-” You stopped, seeing how he was muttering the same words you were. Your face hardened. “You think this to be funny?” 

“No-well, yes a little but my love-” Aegon came to you, taking your hand in his as he sighed. “These-These visions you call them are nothing but superstition!”

“My vision is what told you about your descent to the throne!” 

“A lucky guess!” You scoffed at his words, grabbing a hold of his half buttoned up shirt as you glared. 

“Why do you think my suffering funny, Aegon?!” Aegon’s face softened, and he sighed. He gently grabbed your wrist, giving you a kind look as he brought your hand up to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles, before he breathed out your name slowly. You stopped, hearing him say your name in such a manner reminded you of that awful vision. 

“I do not find your suffering funny. I find your incessant need to base your superstitions off of pure nightmare’s-” He spoke faster as you started to pull away from him. You avoided his gaze, clenching your jaw. You knew the look he was giving you, one of sympathy that you did not wish to see right now. 

“Tell me what you saw, sweet girl.” He came to you again, slipping a hand behind your head and holding it in his grasp as he looked down at you. He desperately tried to meet your eyes, but you were insistent on pulling away from him and his gaze. 

“You’ll think me silly.” 

“Come now, I think you silly no matter what vision you tell me of.” He smiled, though, even as he joked you couldn’t get the image of his death out of your mind. Tears started to fill your gaze, and you pulled away.

 “Sweet girl, stop pulling away from me!” He pleaded, grabbing your arms in a futile attempt to make you stop moving. You pulled your arms up, your fists resting on his chest. He breathed out your name again and that is what did it for you; what made you break.

“I saw your death, Aegon!” You yelled, which indirectly caused the drastic movement of back and forth between the two of you to stop. Aegon stared down at you, his eyes hardening and his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I saw you…not much older than you are now. You were on the battlefield, and..you…” You trailed off, refusing to revisit the gruesome and sickening vision. 

Aegon watched you, he had seen you and your reactions to these visions before but this…this was new. The look of fear that crossed your features and the tears that filled your eyes made his heart break. He could barely handle you when you woke from one of these visions normally, but these looks and the unease that settled on your face caused his mind to go blank. 

“My sweet girl, no-” “Yes Aegon! Do you not get it! You will die and you will die at the hands of your enemies with no one around you and your head will be taken-”

“My head?” 

“-And-And you’ll be scared and I won’t be there-” 

“My love-” 

“You’ll die and you’ll leave me alone, Aegon!” You screamed. At those last words, Aegon suddenly grabbed your face, making you look at him. His own eyes held tears of his own, and he grasped your face with little strength so as to not hurt you. Your eyes widened, and you watched him closely as he maintained a fierce look in his gaze. 

“I will not leave you-” You started to pull away, crying. You always knew Aegon was a fool, but a fool to this extent? You almost wanted to laugh. 

“Not even you can defy death, Aegon!” He looked almost offended at your words. Offended that you think he would just let death take him away from you. His hands grew tighter on your cheeks, locking your eyes again as he leaned forward and pushed his forehead against yours. He took a breath, steadying the anger in his voice before he spoke. 

“I’ll make death pry me away from you.” He spoke softly, his voice slipping with emotion as he leaned forward and kissed you. And you let it happen. 

You enjoyed the kiss, letting nothing but Aegon and his lips consume your thoughts. It was nice, for a while. The notion that a mere mortal could defy the will of the gods. You knew that visions could change, and you sure to gods hoped this one would change. But, for now, you were happy to just bask in his arms and be with him. 

When Aegon pulled away he looked down at you. As you went to speak he shook his head and smirked a bit.

“Don’t speak.” He whispered, and you obeyed. The two of you stood in the middle of the throne room, Aegon’s hands holding your face and grounding you from your anxious thoughts, and you let him. You stayed in his arms, letting him kiss your face and your lips softly until you no longer thought of his death; until you only thought of him.

[shotmrmiller]

Alpha!Ghost x F!Omega Reader

they're still werewolves. they're shifters, yeah? idk forgive me if im inaccurate in literally anything here i just got excited and here we are.

tw: im pretty sure dub-con with the knotting.

Ghost commanded Soap to toss everything you might've owned in that cozy, little flat of yours. He made sure that there was nothing for you to go back to.

You belong to with him.

Once he brought you back, you locked yourself in your room. You ignored everyone and Soap told him that you wouldn't even eat— leaving your food untouched outside your door.

Ghost let you be angry with him, but not eating was unacceptable.

When he went to go see you, he didn't even bother knocking.

"Open this door." When he didn't get a response from you, he slammed his palm against it once.

"Now," he growled.

When you cracked the door open, his nostrils flared, and almost lost control of his human form in his rage. His vision was starting to go fuzzy at the edges, his lip curling to expose his teeth that had begun to lose their blunt shape.

Ghost was murderous. "You left me t'be with another."

He saw your throat bob as you swallowed. "No, Ghost, I didn't. I left because I heard what you told Soap. How I'm just a dalliance, that I- hey!"

Ghost cut you off with his claw-tipped hand, grabbing your jaw firmly, turning your head side to side, inspecting. "You let him scent ya?"

He felt your jaw clenching under his touch and could smell the salty scent of your indignant tears. "I suppressed my scent, not my heats."

The implication of what you just said had him digging his claws into your soft, delicate skin— puncturing it.

With his hand, he forcibly pushed you back into your room as he walked forward, slamming the door closed with his boot.

"Yeah? He help ya, did he?" Ghost squeezed your jaw tighter, making you whimper from the pain. "Did he have ya drenched with slick the way I do, pet? Hm?"

He pulled you close to hiss into your ear. "Did ya beg for his knot the way you did me? Did his cock reach tha’ rough little spot inside of your cunt tha’ has your eyes rolling to the back of your head?"

Ghost flicked the pointed tip of your ear with his warm tongue, knowing exactly what it did to you, he could smell it. "I bet he didn't feel your pussy tighten around him like a vice as you came. I bet he didn't even get ya fucking close to coming."

Another sound slipped past your lips— this time synonymous with the drool-worthy scent in the air. Aroused. Delicious. He had to gulp down an almost mouth full of saliva to continue.

"I know he had no idea how to handle you. He fucked ya, sure, but he doesn't know how you look as you bite your lip when I stretch ya on my cock to the absolute limit. He doesn't know what your face looks like as you're fucked stupid— slobbering onto the nest you made with my shirts while I took ya from behind."

You're a mewling, sloppy mess in his grasp and he hasn't even started. There's a rosy hue adorning your face, pink mouth slightly open, but it's how you look at him that has his massive cock twitching painfully inside of his trousers— almost has him losing control.

They're glassy, hazy with lust. You're looking at him like he's the only thing that matters. 

Your heat's begun.

That pathetic alpha will never know the sounds you made when Ghost held you against the wall and prodded your entrance with his fingers, absolutely drenching his hand, slick dripping down to his wrist.

He'll never know how you choked on your breath when Ghost sank you onto his rigid length until he felt the entrance of your womb. He won't know the wails you let out as Ghost fucked you, won't know the way your nails scored his scarred back when he ground his cock against your cervix, feeling it lightly pinch the tip of his head.

He'll never the way you moaned into his kiss, tasting the inside of your mouth with his tongue, or the way you cried from pleasure when he began to aim for your sweet spot. He’ll never know how tight your pussy walls clamp down on him as you climax, leaving a white frothy cream at his swelling base.

Ghost pushes your head up against the wall because he wants to see your face as he starts to nudge against your abused cunt, and the way your face contorted into a pained ecstasy when he pushed past the resistance with a pop— knotting you as he fills you with his cum. Bonding you.

You've always been his. You knew it too, otherwise, you would've done better at hiding from him.

Ghost leans in to lick your neck, tongue pressing into the firm swell of your gland, sharp canines grazing.

Another time.

He smoothly maneuvers himself so that he's sitting against the wall that's got a crack in it, whoops, without tugging on where you are both connected.

Ghost looks down at you and notices your pupils are blown wide as you gaze up at him, and his chest begins to rumble, infinitely pleased.

Days later, Ghost only sticks his head out of your room which is heady with the smell of heat and arousal, and calls for Soap with a sibilant whistle.

Ghost gives him orders which Soap nods to with a feral grin spread on his face, and leaves. Soon, there will only be one alpha that knows what you look like in your heat at all.

[blarshwritezz]

So it's been not quite a year since I last posted a fic. But, I was struck with a sudden urge to come back, so here I am. Ramble about my absence after the fic. I hope you all enjoy

Yandere OC x Reader

M yan x GN reader

TW - Language, implications of murder, mentions of cheating

You were perfect. Well, not really obviously, but about as close as a person could get. And you had your dear parents to thank for that, of course. They raised you right. Kept you in line, made sure you didn't overindulge, stopped foolish phases from your younger years in their tracks. They even set you up with your current boyfriend, who you'll likely marry someday. He was... He was from a good family. One with decent money, like yours.

And your dear old parents also made sure you knew who to stay away from. The weirdos of the world. There were some real freaks out there, the kind that could cause serious harm. But that didn't mean you feared them. That would be stupid. Weird as they might be, aren't they people too...?

But of course, the worst one... "You know what they say, 476th times a charm!" A bouquet of roses blocked your vision, the soft petals unceremoniously pushed into your face. "Won't you be mine?"

Zeyuna. The biggest freak you've ever met. There were so many strange things about him... No way he was human! And for over a year now, not a day has passed where he hasn't asked you out. How desperate could he be?

"No. For the millionth time, no." You rolled your eyes, pushing away the flowers. "I'm already in a relationship."

"Yeah, and that dickwad doesn't deserve you." And such crude language. Had he no refinement? "How can you stay with that guy when he literally makes out with other bitches in front of you?"

"That's none of your concern! Leave me alone for goodness sake!" You stormed off, ending your daily little interaction the same way you always did. Seriously, what did he know! There were more important things than loyalty! Besides, even though your boyfriend was, well, exactly that, you weren't too fond of him either. It worked out well.

He just wouldn't understand! He's just some... Some hooligan! A hooligan that does anything he wants with no regard for others! Anything! Anything at all...

He watched you leave, his 12 dozen roses dropped to the floor as he sighed. This time too... Apparently his latest invention hadn't worked. He wasn't surprised, he didn't usually dabble in drugs. He was much more in to machinery. But he figured it was a more "intelligent" approach. One you might appreciate. But clearly, the damn thing didn't sway your heart. Or maybe he just didn't have enough...

But what else could he do? He knew he was strange. He always has been. His whole life, a lot of people were scared of him due to his innate strength. It was some weird genetics in his family, he never cared too much to think about it. But you weren't... You even seemed like you were certain you were above him. He loved it... You were so cute like that.

Maybe if he gets rid of that shithead once and for all... It would be so easy...

No no, he shouldn't think like that! He didn't want to prove people right about him. Especially not you... But it would be so good for you! To finally be free from that guy! He didn't know why you would stay with someone like that. Sure he didn't have much money and el fucko did, but what should that matter? He would be super rich someday, he knew it. But what would the point be without you?

You were everything.

He needs you.

Oh, hell. Was murder so bad if the victim was worthless? If it was for good reason? The only problem was getting caught... Something he would work around, surely.

Of course, every day after that, like every day before, he would ask for your heart at least once. He was just so... Ridiculous. Just because he buys you flowers and invents little trinkets just for you, just to make you smile if nothing else, doesn't mean he could win your heart! Not that, not his smile, his confidence, his positivity, his... Oh damn it! It didn't matter what good traits he had! Everyone... No one would approve of you being with him.

But the longer this went on, you began to wonder. Was it worth it to live like this? To let your life be dictated by what other people think? What was the worst that could happen anyway? What, they would look down on you the same way they look down on him? It... Wouldn't be nice. How does he stay so positive through all that? It makes no sense!

But... Your curiosity got the better of you one day. "Zeyuna!" You made a bee line for him. He was sure with that look on your face he was in for a lecture. But he didn't mind. It was always nice to hear your voice, even if you were reprimanding him for doing something stupid. "Zeyuna, you...! You... Are you free on Saturday?"

......... What.

"I want to go to dinner with you. If my many rejections still haven't deterred you, that is. Consider it a date."

Holy. Shit.

What.

He was frozen. What was he supposed to do now? Cry? You, his greatest dream, the one who'd rejected him so many times, actually asked him out? Was this an elaborate prank?! A date?! Had a he died and gone to heaven? Or maybe he was dreaming?

And you looked so cute. He hasn't seen you blushing before. He'd never forget this sight.

"Oh wow... YES!" He finally pulled himself together, picking you up in a tight hug and spinning you around. This couldn't be real! He didn't care how many people stared. You were his now! "I promise, swear on my old man's grave, this will be the greatest date you've ever been on!"

He'd do anything to make it so. And this worked out especially great for him! Gave him the perfect alibi for a certain little robot he's been working on to get rid of a certain piece of trash...

Gonna stop there before I go forever. Maybe not the most intense yandere I've ever written, but I'm sure it's alright.

Anyways, as for my little hiatus and some other ramble stuff... The truth is, I lost motivation. I graduated, and the best motivation I had for writing always seemed to come when I was avoiding work and stuff lol. And then I had nothing to avoid so I kind of rotted a bit. I never have too much motivation, and when I do, it's for really specific things. I have kind of a lot of hobbies. Plus I got a job, two technically but one was like seasonal. Go me making money, yay!

I can't promise I'm back. I'm wishy-washy like that if I'm being honest. But, I made this account to practice my writing and hopefully get feedback on my work since I actually want to become a legitimate author someday. And I figure if I'm going to have to enter the adult world, I might as well try to keep up with that. Maybe getting back into writing here will help my motivation to work on my longer books. I recently came up with a super good idea for a new one, I'm just struggling with starting it.

So anyways... That's about it I think. I've missed this, so hopefully I can stick to it this time. But like I said, no promises. Also, at this point, I'm thinking I probably won't get to my old requests. I feel too ashamed, and I'm sorry for that. And I don't know if I'll be taking any new requests any time soon. Because, you know, motivation is bad.

Also, I hope you all enjoyed this little intro to one of my ocs. He's part of this whole oc web I have going on, and is actually the parent of one of my main ocs. Technically his darling would be another oc of mine, my main ocs mother, but I wanted more people to be able to enjoy it, so I made it for a gn reader. hopefully that doesn't bite me in the butt if I continue writing for him, he'll date anybody if he likes them, male female or otherwise, but not everybody can have babies which ends up a kind of important thing.

Okay I'll stop now lol.