#i would do nearly anything to be able to run my fingers through his hair

[atlabeth]

take my breath away

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: you help spencer train for his fitness exam. he kind of just wants to kiss you.

a/n: some fluff (and something short) after i broke my own heart (and my brain) in my last hotch fic! i’m truly in my criminal minds era. enjoy

wc: 1.3k

warning(s): reader is a runner so im sorry to my unathletic friends. but this is all fluff

“Spence,” you said, unable to bite back your smile, “how are you this bad at running?” 

“I’m—” he held up a finger as he caught his breath and shook his head. “I’m not bad at running. My form… is perfect.” 

“We barely made it a mile in,” you said, and you chuckled as he keeled over, his hands on his knees. “It can’t be that perfect.” 

“It is,” he insisted, on the edge of wheezing. “I’m just unathletic.” 

“You never did sports as a kid?” 

“I graduated high school at twelve,” Spencer breathed. “I was too busy studying. Reading. Doing anything other than sports.” He looked at you and shook his head. “And I’m not crazy like you.” 

Your smile only grew. “You should put your hands over your head. It helps get more air in.” 

“That’s actually a rumor.” He shook his head again. “When you raise your arms, muscles that contribute… to the bucket handle movement of your ribs—” He heaved a sigh, his brows furrowing, and again, you held back a smile. You were sure this was one of his only weaknesses. “—they’re not able to function properly.” 

“Alright, genius,” you said, mockingly but with love. “Recover however you like. You clearly need it.” 

Spencer pouted as he straightened up, his whole face contorted in discomfort. When your boyfriend asked you to help him train for his upcoming fitness test, you didn’t think much of it—you got a full ride through college because of track, and you keep healthy with morning runs, so you were happy to help. 

You’d thought about straight up offering a myriad of times—mostly after bearing witness to his attempts at running in the field. One time, the two of you were paired up to do some interviews, and it ended in a chase. By the time Spencer caught up, nearly dying on the sidewalk, you already had the unsub subdued and cuffed. 

(It took him a while to live that down with Morgan.)

Spencer was gifted at other things, sure—not just everyone is a classified genius with an eidetic memory, and he’s the youngest recruit in history—and you loved him more than anything. But you couldn’t not make fun of him, just a little bit. 

His face was still red, his glasses fogging up a bit from the humidity, and his hair was a mess, so you moved closer in order to brush the stray strands out of his face. 

“Running isn’t my thing,” he said. “Well— fitness isn’t my thing. I’ve got everything else covered.” 

“Oh yeah?” You started smoothing back the strands of his hair, and you offered a crooked smile. “Then why are we out here trying to improve your mile time?” 

“Because it would be nice if Gideon doesn’t have to get all my fitness stuff waived again, and if I want that, I need the help.” His eyes didn’t leave yours, and once you finished, your hands lingered on his cheeks. You nudged his glasses back up to their spot. “And I think I’d run a marathon and die trying if it meant I got to spend more time with you.” 

Your eyebrows rose. “If you want to run a marathon, I could probably get you there. It would take a lot of time together, though.” 

“Please, no,” Spencer breathed. “Just the time together part.” 

You grinned, and you patted him on the cheek before you pulled away. “Running is good for the soul. Why do you think I’m so happy all the time?” 

“Well, this morning you said you were happy because of me,” he said. “Yesterday, it was because we had our first case-free weekend in two months. The other day—” 

“That coffee I had?” you interrupted. 

He nodded. “How’d you know?” 

“Because you made it for me,” you said, “and I love it when you do that.” 

Spencer shrugged. “You do it all the time for me. It’s only fair.” 

“But that’s proof,” you said. “Running does make you happy.” 

“Running does release endorphins, but anyone who likes it is crazy,” he repeated. 

“That doesn’t sound scientifically backed.” 

“The way I feel right now beats science,” Spencer huffed. “And you’re not happy all the time. You frowned 23 times while writing up your last report.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “You were watching me? And counting?” 

He shrugged. “You’re nice to watch.” 

“Very smooth, Dr. Reid,” you said cloyingly. “But flattery won’t get you out of this.” 

“I’m not trying to get out of anything!” he defended. You stared at him, and he held up his hands. “Okay— only halfway. But you are nice to watch. That’s why I’m still here.”

“If you’re watching me while we run, that might be why you’re doing so badly,” you said, amused. 

“No—I think it’s the only thing keeping me going.”

“You don’t really look like you’re still going,” you said wryly. “You should be good at this. You’ve got long legs.” 

Spencer shook his head as he screwed his eyes shut. He let out one last breathy sigh, and you hoped he’d finally recovered. “Also largely a rumor. It’s more about leg strength compared to bodyweight—long legs help with lengthy strides, but you need to generate enough torque to move faster than with shorter legs.” 

You smiled. “You’ve still got facts? Even while you’re dying?” 

“Mostly because Elle’s said it before too. She says I look like a baby giraffe learning how to walk when I run.” Spencer shook his head again. “I think the only thing my height is good for is getting things off of shelves.” 

For once, you tried to reign in your joking. “Is there anything I can do to help? I don’t want this whole thing to be miserable for you. Running should be fun.” 

“We can stop doing this?” he suggested. “I can let go of what’s left of my pride, get all my fitness stuff waived again, and go back to figuring out cases in an air conditioned conference room?” 

You smiled, and you moved closer. “How about this?” 

Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but you pulled him in for a kiss by the front of his shirt, effectively cutting him off. He hesitated for less than a split second, but his hands fell to your waist as he brought you in closer. 

When you let go and moved away, he still had them there, and he was smiling like an idiot. 

“Does that help?” you asked innocently, tilting your head. 

“Yeah,” Spencer said, nodding rapidly. “Uh— yeah. I actually think I could go for another mile now.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh as you ruffled his hair, messing up your earlier work. “I’d love to test that, pretty boy, but I don’t think you can make it another mile.” 

Spencer shook his head. “If you keep kissing me like that, I think I can make it through that marathon you mentioned.”  

“Sure I don’t take your breath away too badly?” you teased. 

“I have some facts for that, but I don’t think they apply.” His lips curved up, and the redness from exertion mixed with his steadily rising blush. “Because you, uh— you did take my breath away the first time I saw you.” 

“I should start calling you loverboy with material like that,” you mused. “Morgan’s annoyed that I took pretty boy from him.” 

Spencer grimaced. “Just thinking of Morgan seeing me like this makes me want to get back at it. I can’t deal with any more of his teasing.” 

“But my teasing’s okay?” 

He frowned. “Of course. It— it’s kind of why I fell for you.” 

“Ah,” you nodded. “That’s why you’re still at this. You don’t like things being handed to you.” 

His cheeks darkened again, and you laughed as you leaned in to peck him on the lips one more time. 

“Alright, loverboy,” you said. “Ready to get back at it?” 

“No,” he said affirmatively. “But I don’t really have a choice, do I?” 

“Not if you want to pass,” you said wryly, and you gestured back at the trail with your head. “But you know what they say—one step at a time.” 

Spencer grumbled, and he shook his arms out again. “Fine. As long as those steps are with you.” 

You smiled. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” 

[buckyalpine]

I'm here for some angst and fluff rn. Bucky being sad no one trusts him after his metal arm is taken off during a fight.

-

Bucky stared at the dark grey metal that fell to the floor with a clank, his vibranium arm no longer attached to his body with just a few pushes to his joint. The fight ended, leaving the soldier lost as he picked his arm off the floor, fingers trembling around the cold material. It felt dead in his hand, the emotional weight of it far heavier than anything else he'd ever carried.

"Did you know they could do that?" Sam asked, eyeing Bucky carefully while he locked his arm in place, readjusting it with a swing. The gold plates shifted to recalibrate, his fingers flexing while trying to silence his thoughts that begin to run a million miles a minute.

"No"

Bucky trudged down the hall, his heart sinking when he could hear the soft humming from inside his apartment, his sweet girl already waiting for him to come home. He usually felt the weight of the world life off his shoulders when you were around.

Not today.

Not when he knew what he really was.

What he had been all along.

He let out a strained breath before rummaging for his keys and opening the door, the smell of tea, sugar and vanilla wafting through the kitchen and living room. He thought about escaping as soon as he toed his boots off, locking himself in the shower and calling it an early night, of course you'd understand but his body won over what his mind was screaming.

Your face lit up as soon as you heard the door creak open, setting down the book you were reading, excited to see Bucky after he'd been gone for days for a mission. Your happiness was short lived as he padded into the living room, the strained smile on his face doing nothing to mask the pain he was feeling. You could see the turmoil in his eyes, waves of emotion crashing over him before he could surface.

"What's wrong, bub" You coo softly, opening your arms for him. Bucky kept his jacket on, avoiding melting into your hold even though he craved it more than ever.

"Do people still think I'm dangerous?" He asks quietly, shifting away from you when he feels you pressed against his arm. Something so soft and sweet as you definitely didn't have any business being near something so terrible, disgusting, murderous-

"What? No baby, why would you say that?" Your heart breaks at the tears that begin to well in his eyes, his nose and cheeks reddening as he suppresses all the emotions that desperately want to bubble over.

"I-I had no idea others would be able to remove it" He whispers, chewing his lip till he nearly draws blood, avoiding your gaze to stare at the floor instead. The fluffy rug turns blurry as tears begin to escape, his throat growing unbearably tight. "M'still a monster" His voice cracks before the first cry slips out.

Your pull him into your chest as sobs begin to wrack his body, letting him lay on you while you wrap him safely in your arms. The feeling of your affection is too much for Bucky, he doesn't deserve it but he needs it; he feels selfish as he allows you to hold him, hiding his face into the crook of your neck.

"What happened, sweet boy" You coo against his hair, running your fingers through his soft locks. He continued to sniffle between whimpers, trying to calm down, fresh waves of emotion holding him down, his metal arm gripping onto the sofa cushions.

His arm was dangerous.

He was dangerous.

"During a fight" Bucky let out a shuddered breath before continuing, shame seeping through his veins. What would you think of him if you knew the people who had healed him still didn't trust him, "We were trying to calm things down. I didn't mean to do anything-I didn't-I was holding back, we wanted to talk things over, she-"

He bit his lip again as it trembled, still feelings the spots that were pushed, sending his arm to the floor, "I didn't even know what was happening. She hit my shoulder in a few spots and my arm fell right off"

You stopped your ministrations, your heart breaking into two hearing the pain in his voice. Bucky sounded so small, like an admonished child scared to tell the truth. He curled himself up further, still flexing his fingers, almost fearful his arm would fall off again without warning. You moved your arms to hug him tighter, wishing you could take away at least half the pain his was feeling.

"I didn't know they could do that" He said with defeat, still softly sniffling while you kissed the top of his head.

"You're not a monster baby" You knew how much work Bucky had put in, how much he struggled to get a hold of his mind again, how long it took for him to learn to trust others, to trust himself.

"Then why" You knew he was desperate hearing the plead in his voice. Why. Why did others still have control over his own body. Why were others still able to do things to him without his knowledge.

Why?

"I wish they'd told you why, baby boy" You brought your hand to gently tip his chin up, making him look at you, "Perhaps they have their reasons. Regardless, your heart is pure, Bucky" Your hands moved under his jacket and tshirt, stroking his bare skin, the feel of your pure hands already soothing his aching heart.

"They don't trust me" He sighed, sitting up again as his mind swirled. You didn't let him spiral for long, straddling his lap while his arms moved on their own to wrap around your waist.

"They do, bub" you shook your head, cupping his cheeks so he'd look at you. "They took you in and healed you because you were worth healing. You deserved it. I need you to remember my sweet Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes is a good man. The opposite of dangerous, a soft, sweet boy"

"Do-do you trust me" His voice was small again, looking at you through his lashes, nervously fidgeting with the hem of the Henley you'd stolen.

"I trust you with my life, Bucky" You took his metal hand, brushing your lips against the gold ridges before kissing each of his cool finger tips. "Every single part of you. Your mind. Your body. All of it"

The mental exhaustion of the day began to take it's toll as his eyes grew heavy, cuddling into you while you rocked him in a comfortable silence. You smiled at the soft snores you heard moments later as Bucky fell asleep in your arms.

"Let's get you to bed, baby" you whispered, gently waking him and taking a quick warm shower before jumping into bed. He was right back in your arms as soon as you pulled the sheets back, the grating voices not so loud any more.

Regardless of what the world though, had you.

A pure sweet angel.

She trusted him.

That had to mean something.

It would be a long road of healing but at least his had his angel to guide him.

[satorusugurugurl]

Self-Love Quickie!

Summary: When you finally have time alone for the first time in a week, you can find some stress relief. But maybe you should have checked the apartment first. 😗

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x AFAB!R x Ryomen Sukuna

Warning: Masturbation, oral sex, p in v, smut!

A/N: Just a late night honey drabble ft. Dr. Gojo and Fire Fighter!Sukuna!

The second you get home from work, noticing your roommates keys aren’t there you’re rushing to the couch. You push your skirt up, running for the couch with excitement. Finally you were alone!

Your roommates keep getting sent home early, and every fucking time you go to grab your toys they barge in, or annoucce that they're home! Making it nearly impossible to get off. It didn't help that your room was smacked down between them and you weren't exactly the quiet in bed. So the fact that both of them weren't home was an opportunity you couldn't miss! The second you lie down on the couch you're sliding your hand into your panties rubbing circles around your clit.

Which wouldn’t be a problem thanks to your smutty audiobook.

You were soaking wet, fingers rubbing faster as you cried out, throwing your head back against the throw pillows. “Fuuuck~ oh my fucking god!” Your walls fluttered, toes curling as you whined into the empty apartment. “Oooh my fuck~ fuck oooh fuck.” A week without masturbating had been literal torture, and you needed to cum to be around fucking Sukuna and Gojo. The stupid sexy assholes had been coming home early every night this week. Gojo said the clinic kept sending him home because he’d been working overtime at the urgent care. And Sukuna had been out on leave from the fire department because of a sprained ankle.

Images of red and blue eyes crossed your mind as you thought back to the sounds of them jerking off through the thin walls of your apartment. God, they were so hot that it was stupid. Fucking assholes and their stupid good looks! Ugh! The least they could do was go out for the night and let you have time to take care of yourself!

“Oooh fuck.” Your eyes shut tight as you imagined the duo kissing your neck, rubbing your wet folds, making you cum. “Oooh my goood~ oh my god~ oh my fuckin’ god!” You threw your head back bucking your hips against your hand as you felt yourself getting closer and closer towards your orgasm. “K-Kuna~ ooooh fuck~ Toru~ Nnngh!” Your eyes rolled back as you rubbed your clit as fast as your hand would allow, until you arched you back off the couch. “I-I’m cumming! Cumming!! Oooh fuck me!!”

Your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks; the pure intensity of it had you screaming as your pussy throbbed and clenched as you rode the waves. It felt so good; your slick coated your fingers as your legs twitched and shook, as your body went lax against the sofa. God, you needed that so bad to be able to find—a spoon fell, hitting the surface of a table, interrupting your post-orgasmic bliss.

With wide eyes, you slowly sat up, looking at the dining room table across from you where Satoru and Sukuna sat. Satoru’s mouth was agape, cheeks flushed, eyes focused on the hand that was still inside of your panties. While the pink-haired man leaned back in his chair, smirking, his erection visible in his pants. The three of you sat silently as you babbled and tried to think of anything! Literally fucking anything to say in a situation like this!

Not only had you rubbed one out in front of your roommates, but you had also moaned out their names while you fantasized about them doing sexy things to you. This was it, your thirteenth reason. Standing up on shaky legs, you stumbled to the side, pulling your slick fingers out of your panties.

“I-I’m going to go barricade myself in my room! Bye, have a good night!”

“Get that fine ass back over here!” Sukuna barked out with a starved chuckle. “You can't just say my name so prettily like that and leave!

“Sukuna’s righhht~ you should listen to the firefighter and come over here so Dr. Gojo can fully examine you~”

“I would rather eat my shoe.”

Sukuna patted his lap. “Come on~ don't make me get up, Satoru said I need to stay off my foot.” You have watched as Satoru grabbed his chair dragging it to sit across from Sukuna. “Give us a hand~ after all these boners are your fault.”

“Like I said, I’d rather eat my shoe.” Your words held no heat as you stepped towards them. “You pervs.”

A shoe wasn't what you had in your mouth thirty minutes later. Sukuna pierced monster cock, however, as Satoru fucked into you from behind. Your legs were shaking as you struggled to remain straddled in his hips as he bucked into you from his chair. The head of his cock jammed into your cervix as Sukuna forced your head down further on his cock.

Both of your roommates were grunting and growling. Sukuna’s head was tilted slightly back, eyes narrowed down at you as you gagged around him. While Satoru’s head was hanging low, cerulean eyes watched his cock disappear inside of your tight cunt.

All three of you were ducked out of your mind, you especially. Satoru’s cock was hitting your cervix in a painfully pleasurable way, making your eyes roll back as your soul threatened to escape. If it wasn't for the cold chill of Sukuna’s Jacob’s Ladder against your tongue, you were sure you’d be as present as you were.

“Fuuuck yes kitten~ suck my cock~ suuuck it.” The tip of Sukuna’s cock hit the back of your throat causing tears to stream down your cheeks. “What do good fucking girl you are, sucking my cock~ like a good little fucking slut.”

“Sweetheart~” Satoru’s wishing tone had you moaning around the thick cock fucking your throat. “Oh my god, you feel so good sucking me in like that; god, your pussy is so good!”

Their praises made you feel so good, pushing you closer towards release as their movements got sloppier, balls clenching, paces breaking as they lost themselves in the pleasure. Hearing them lose it made your entire body shake as you moaned, crying louder, eyes rolling back into your head as you screamed around Sukuna as your pussy clamped down around Satoru. Both men grunted fucking into you faster and harder before Sukuna’s cock slid down your throat as ropes of cum filled your mouth. Watching both his roommates cum, hard Satoru pulling out of your smooth wet walls, jerking himself off until he came all over your back, with a shuddering cry.

The sound of heavy breathing and gasps filled the apartment as Sukuna gently eased you off his softening cock. “Let me see.” He ordered, watching you open your mouth as you stuck out your tongue, showing him you swallowed every drop of cum he had to offer. “Mhmm such a good kitten~”

“Mhmm~ the best.” As Satoru left for the kitchen, you were gently moved to rest on Sukuna’s lap. You laid there on Sukuna, humming happily as Gojo returned, wiping your back off with a warm rag. “I’ve never been so happy that I locked my keys in my car!”

“Mhmm~” Sukuna pressed his lips against your temple. “I’m glad someone was too horny. She couldn’t wait to get in her room to rub her pretty cunt.”

“Oh my god, please, let’s never discuss that again.”

You eyed both your roommates, who blinked at each other before smirking wide. “Not a chance.” And knowing both of them, they would never let you live it down. But you wouldn't be too upset if it ended up like this whenever it got brought up.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

[raitonsfw]

𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 (𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐) | 𝚔𝚊𝚖𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚘 ꨄ

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: When you come home with tears running down your face, Choso immediately fills an entire wine glass for you. You had gotten your period that day, on Valentine’s Day of all days, and there was no way he was going to want to do anything with you. But it was quite the opposite actually; the man was practically begging for you to engulf him as soon as you mentioned your predicament.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, needy!choso, period sex, blood play/kink, begging, pleading, whimpering (oh my!), riding, sexual intercourse, creampie, hair pulling, grinding, breast play, reader rides choso with a wine glass in their hand, spilling of wine, pet names (baby), choso the blood manipulator alright (ideas for this man practically write themselves) 

a/n: happy valentine's day! wrote this on my period last month and am currently going through the motions again so lucky me! (tmi sowwy) enjoy and here's your 3rd valentine from me! 💌 wc: 2.7k. v-day m.list | m.list

now playing: the red means i love you by madds buckley

divider credit: @hitobaby & @firefly-graphics

“Y/N? Open up, please.” You heard Choso’s quiet rasp through the door and you felt even more tears slip from the corners of your eyes, threatening to ruin your makeup even more. The mascara had poured down your face and you tried your best to wipe it all off, but it had stained a bit and you didn’t care anymore; you just needed it off.

“No.” You managed out as normally as you possibly could but he could hear the broken huffs that came from you. He was confused to say the least, the glass of red liquid in his hand chilling his fingers as he waited for you to tell him what was wrong. You couldn’t offer him an answer though as you panicked throughout the confines of the bathroom, scrubbing off the cursed makeup your period ruined.

It wasn’t the best day be bleeding from your fucking cunt.

You had run past Choso the second you got home, much to his discontent as he welcomed you home with a small murmur before fading away as you disappeared into the bathroom. He had set up a wonderful Valentine’s night in for the both of you, the most expensive wine sitting in the middle of the dining table as you arrived and he took the opportunity to pour more wine into yours without a second thought; hell you might need the whole bottle. 

“I have a glass of wine for you.” He tried to convince you with that, but you didn’t budge from your spot in front of the mirror. You glanced towards the box of tampons that sat against the back of the shelf near the tub, frowning at it. You wished you could flush them down the toilet, but all that would offer you would be cotton waste and a clog with nearly a million girls threatening you from the shadows because those things were fucking expensive.

“Choso, I’m fine.” 

“Please open the door. I want to help you.” He started to knock on it, sending you into a frenzy as you hurried wiping your makeup off. You threw the makeup wipe in the trash; and what stared back at you was a mess and all you wanted to do was hide beneath the sheets and isolated from society for the five wretched days. You were able to get the mascara off, but some of it still smudged underneath your lashes as a reminder that the promised look for the date went awry because of your sobbing. Which brought you to another revelation, your boyfriend.

Choso wasn’t going to want to have sex with you tonight, not when you were bleeding rivers. You had gone over his reaction in your head a thousand times and every single one didn’t end up with a good outcome; especially since it was such a precious day to him, it felt like your worst nightmare had come true.

“Y/N.” 

You sighed heavily, unlocking the door with a quiet tilt and Choso immediately opened it when he heard the click of the lock. You didn’t get to look at him properly as you ran past him, but he had cleaned up considerably nice today; his blood mark cut neatly against the bridge of his nose and his hair, albeit still incredibly messy, sat up like pins in the ponytails he spored them into. The dark circles around his eyes were still prominent in the luminescent light of the bathroom and you felt for him, he must’ve waited for you for a while. 

Then again, he always looked tired to you. 

Choso held out your glass of wine to you, but then faltered a bit as he took a good look at you. Your eyes were rimmed red with blemished tears as you stared back at him, flicking back and forth from the red liquid in the glass and his puzzled face. Instead he sat the wine glass on the accented table next to the bathroom with a tiny exhale and came up behind you with strong arms. He folded them underneath yours, his fingers dancing over the crevices of your tummy and he pulled you close to him. Resting his chin against your shoulder, he rocked you softly with him to the sway of the music that played out in the living room. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” Choso whispered into your ear, pressing feathered kisses behind it and you shuddered at the action. “Do I have to kill someone for you?” 

“No, it’s nothing like that.” You gave him a tired laugh, placing your hands on his where they intertwined. His hair tickled the back of your neck as he started to kiss down it towards your shoulder and you tried to pull away. “Choso…”

“Yeah?” He hummed out, a bit muffled by your shoulder and his violet eyes glanced towards the mirror, towards yours and you suddenly felt so exposed as they filled with adoration. You couldn’t see his mouth, your shoulder covered it but you knew he was ready to plant kisses down your back and your waist if you let him– anywhere he could reach within a few minutes he would be worshipping. 

“You were looking forward to a night in, right?” You asked him, one of your hands coming up to pick at his hair sticking up from their confines in the hair tie. 

“Is that not happening now?” Choso straightened up a bit, his mouth pouting into a confused frown. He narrowed his eyes a bit, trying to figure out exactly what happened to you. Out of everything he thought of, he speculated you had a rough day at work and needed some love; which was easily done as he’d be right in between your thighs with his tongue lapping up your cunt, two calloused fingers stuffed within in no time.

“It might need to be changed a bit…” 

“Why’s that?” Now he was worried, his arms squeezing you closer to him, a whine etching his words as he rested his chin against your shoulder again. Choso didn’t know much about human emotions, especially women’s and he’d have to ask Yuji later what it meant when one tries to postpone a date night. He’d probably say that means they don’t like you, but that couldn’t be possible; he knew you liked him, otherwise you would’ve left him already. You wouldn’t have tolerated six months with him if you didn’t in some form or another ‘like’ him.

“I got my period earlier today.”

There was a pause and you felt as though you could hear a pin drop but then there was a bit of shuffling behind you and you observed Choso’s eyes to try and gauge his reaction. You swore you saw them darken, the vibrance of them tinting and he squinted at you slightly before resuming his kisses down your shoulder and you felt his hands trail up towards your chest. Your breasts were sore, swollen and when he lifted them up slightly with his palms, you let out a relieved sigh. They wandered over your peaked nipple, his fingers slicing over it and you felt the heat rush through your cheeks as he tweaked it slightly through your clothing. 

“Choso?” You watched him through the mirror and you saw the blush that had crept up on his face, you knew that flushed look– and the hardened outline of his cock pressing into your backside very well. 

“Fuck baby, that made me hard…” Choso muttered admittedly into your shirt with another whine, purposefully hiding his face so you wouldn’t tease his blush. The slightest thing would turn him on so you weren’t that surprised, though you didn’t quite expect it to be because of the crimson between your legs.

What were you so worried about? It’s Choso, the boy who would become flustered if you so much as kissed his hand while in public, who would nearly fall to his knees when you showed off the lingerie you bought whilst out shopping, who would pant at the sight of your arousal leaking out of you like a faucet; your hormones did you so dirty, letting you believe he wouldn’t get off on a little blood. 

After all, he was a blood manipulator and this was his speciality. 

“That made you hard?” You backed your hips into him slightly, earning a choked gasp from him. “You don’t mind me being on my period? If it bothers you, we can use a cond-”

“No, no condom. Don’t want that, want to feel you.” Choso blurted out and you knew you had him pegged, completely cornering him by the thought of pleasure. You bent over slightly and watched him through the mirror as his entire face turned red, his crotch pressing directly against yours now. 

“What about the blood?” You asked, genuinely concerned that he lost his mind as he started to not so subtly grind against your cunt with a roll of his hips. Choso knocked you slightly over against the edge of the sink, his hands grasping for your hips now, one trailing up your back to bend you further and the other steadying you so he could bury deeper into the warmth. His hand found your hair and you were sure he was going to yank it, but instead he tangled it into the strands and rubbed circles into your scalp like the good boy that he was.

“That’s exactly why I don’t want to use one.” The heat of your cunt made him dizzy and he couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking good it would feel to plunge into you, the blood making it so overbearingly wet that he might bust as soon as he’s bottomed out. God, he was this pussy drunk already? He had his chin tilted up now, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head and you watched with tenacious eyes. He wasn’t even buried in you yet and his tongue was nearly lolling out of his mouth at the thought of you squeezing around him senselessly with an extra lubrication drooling around his cock.

“I want to drink my wine though...” You whined out, perhaps a bit more innocently than you intended.

A short groan came out of him and that’s when his hand gripped at the tendrils of your hair, yanking it upwards with a harsh pull. His arm flexed as he pulled you up towards him, quieting huffs and pants escaping him as he continued grinding against you. Sometimes when he got like this, all hot and bothered and nearly on the verge of devouring you whole, he didn’t know his own strength and you yelped in pain, moresos shock. His lips hovered over the shell of your ear, his hips ceasing their movements and his chest rose and fell against your back.

“Drink it while you ride me then.” He whined into your ear in rushed syllables, his fingers digging into the crevices of your thighs. They crawled towards the front of your mound, dipping lowly into the soft covered flesh there, if only he could fucking reach his hand down your panties… but you hesitantly stopped him before his hands got dirty. “I need you now, right now. Please, Y/N?”

How could you possibly say no to his pleas? 

And there you were five minutes later, with your wine glass balancing delicately on the tips of your fingers as you sunk down onto him as he babbled out begs and whimpers. Your pussy fluttered against the intrusion of his cock and you let out a delicious moan, your head tipping back as he thrusted up inside you greedily. Choso nearly knocked you off of him, your wine almost spilling from the confines of the glass and you glared at him as you ceased his movements. “Cho– you almost made me spill my wine!” 

He faux pouted before continuing to bounce you harshly on his cock, his fingers digging into your flesh and you could barely hold the glass still against your lips; it drenched your breasts and his chest, staining you both a beautiful red. As Choso noticed the deep color, he instantly glanced down at where you two were connected, the blood slicking up his cock so nicely and at the base it glistened with it. He couldn’t fucking see straight at this point, your pussy clenched around him like a vice as he refused to let ride him fully; he was just so desperate. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry– c-can’t stop.” One of his arms came to wrap around you as he sat up on his elbow, his tongue lapping over the stickiness of your chest and he moaned out as he tasted the tartness of it against your skin. His palm laid flat against the middle of your back as he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, teasing lightly. As you looked down at him, you almost came from the sight. Choso’s eyes were closed and you could feel the incessant groans and grunts coming from his mouth, the vibrations surrounding your breast and his eyebrows were furrowed in pleasure with every harsh roll of your hips. 

Deep pleasure shot through your body, every single one of your nerves nearly setting on fire and clutched the wine glass in your hand but you knew you were going to eventually drop it if he kept fucking you like this. You couldn’t bring it to your lips, your mouth had fallen open in small pants and moans and you felt Choso take the glass from you. He quickly set it down on the end table, temporarily popping off of your nipple to do so and you used that to your advantage to pin him down onto the bed again. 

“Baby, baby, please.” He whimpered as you dragged yourself up his cock and slammed back down on it, his hands flying towards the pillow and clutching it. He buried his face into the crook of his arm, trying desperately to muffle the moans that poured out of him as his hips barely kept up with yours. “Please, fuck me, I’m so close–”

With every thrust a drowning squelch filled the room, nothing but your arousal mixing with your blood and his precum, submerged in the intoxicating feeling of what it was like fuck up into the wettest mixture ever; Choso felt the blood dripping down his thighs and the dip of his balls and it spurred him on even more, his orgasm flooding through him and threatening to spill out into you. 

“Baby, can I cum in you–? Can I, please? Fuck, I need to...” Choso whined, frenzied purple eyes peeking out from underneath his arm and you nodded quickly, your own orgasm piling up your spine and you felt him shudder beneath you. You watched in awe as his eyes squeezed shut and his face contorted as his hands found your hips again trying to still you against him. His mouth had dropped open in a pitchy moan and you swore you’ve never been more in love, but here you were watching your man fall apart within minutes because of how good your pussy felt whilst on your period and it made you numb with devotion.

Your orgasm met his a few seconds after, squeezing him tightly in place and you breathed through the ecstasy. Your hands were glued to his chest, convulsing through the pleasure that spread throughout your body and you felt his hands come to grasp at yours in a heated motion. Coming down from your high, you regrettably rolled your hips off of him, a heady groan coming from Choso and you noticed how fucking soaked his dick was with your fluids, your face reddening at the sight. 

You gasped as you also noticed the wine and blood stains splattered against the white sheets you two laid on. “Oh God, Choso…”

“We can get new sheets. Come here.” He breathed out, sitting up fully and leaning towards you needily. His hands pulled you back onto his lap and you squeaked, his dick resting against your thigh and you let him kiss you eagerly. He tasted of fruit, the wine that he laved at earlier, and pure adoration that spilled out of every nook of his curse. 

Yeah, you were an idiot to not believe Choso wouldn’t go nuts over this. He wasn’t going to let something so dreadfully normal, not to mention erotic, ruin his Valentine’s and especially not yours. 

You pulled a whine from him as you bit his bottom lip, earning the promised words you were especially dying to hear. “Round two, baby?”

taglist: @izakyun | @classyempathmongercloud | @rubyparsonx

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[sahisan]

silence.

tomioka giyuu x gn!reader.

⭒ summary: everyone knows that giyuu isn't much of a talker, so this depicts the silent moments with him that you both have come enjoy.

⭑ cw: sfw. mentions of giyuu's past (final selection w sabito). a bit of angst. reader is bad at comforting. giyuu loves you sm. like loves.

⭒ wc: 2.8k.

⭑ a/n: this took me too long wth, almost a month i fear lol. this was written during my demon slayer hyperfixation comeback (it's gone now) so uh. also acheron fic coming soon (i hope soon)! pls like and reblog !!

it wasn't exactly silence after giyuu finished speaking. there were sounds of birds chirping, wind occasionally blowing, resulting in sounds of swaying leaves on the trees being more audible. some even fell because of the invisible force of the air, ending up meeting the gravel ground near the engawa.

having told a good share of his past to you—precisely about sabito and the final selection, which were the main reason he wasn't exactly thrilled about taking part in the hashira training—giyuu decided to stop himself from telling you any more, choosing to leave other topics for later.

but will you still have this 'later' now that he's shared even a small bit of himself?

to you, the silence was awkward. not having the faintest idea of what to say in reply to that wasn't exactly what you would want to experience, yet here you were. it felt useless even trying to think of something, to try and make something up in your mind, even taking a bit more time than you usually do when thinking of a response, bur nothing could've prepared you to thinking of what to reply to this.

it made your stomach churn with how you realised you couldn't seem to know what to do, what to say, how to comfort him; the closest to you person finally started to open uo, little by little, bit by bit and you instead feel like an immobile log, only being able to sit there and listen, not being able to muster up a word of comfort.

and you know, you know that it's because you've never heard the said words of colsolation in your life; thus, you didn't know how to comfort giyuu.

another gust of wind blew through the air, nearly ruffling your and his hair, and for a moment you think of giyuu with his hair no longer in a low ponytail, but instead it being messy and disarranged and you think of running your fingers through it. you hope you'll have such opportunity, even if only once.

another fallen onto your lap leaf helped you out of your thoughts; it would be even more awkward if you hadn't managed to say something at all, daydreaming and continuing on staying silent. you take the leaf between your fingers before it manages to fly away and take a look at it; elm.

"i'm... sorry," you finally spoke, voice quiet as to not disturb anything around. you felt so meek just hearing your own voice. "i don't really know what to say. but i'm sorry for what happened with sabito."

you took a pause; you were never one to have a good way with words, and it made everything even worse in this situation.

"just know that... i'm here for you whenever you want to talk to me about anything. i'll listen."

giyuu's head was in the same position as yours—lowered to look down at his lap. he couldn't say the atmosphere was tense, no, not at all. he knew this was a lot to digest in such a small period of time, no matter how long you've been silent, and he could see your hesitation in choosing the right words; you surely didn't voice your inability to properly comfort him, but didn't blame you for your lack in knowledge about it. he could guess why.

"it's alright," he said just as quietly, silently exhaling a small breath. it felt as if it was easier to breathe now that he had shared this bit of his past to you. "it was about time i told you anyways. i'm already glad you listened. don't bother with words."

you still felt that just listening wasn't enough.

"have you eaten yet?" giyuu broke another silence after a few more minutes of listening to the wind's unregulated breathing, wishing to change the topic to not overexert you mentally any further—what he's told you was enough and it wasn't like he wanted you to dwell on that story. he simply wanted you to know.

"forgot to."

giyuu knew quite well as of now that you tended to, much to his dismay, forget to have some of the meals throughout the day, and it didn't make it better when you could even skip lunch because of training or meetings or anything at all. once, he even told you that he was going to forbid you to enter the training grounds unless you've had at least two meals throughout the day. it's safe to say he physically couldn't do so, so for that period of time you and your exercises were safe.

giyuu didn't need to hear more from you. standing up from his sitting position on the engawa, he then offered you a hand to help you up. and with the gesture, you both knew that there was no need for more words.

the silence in the small soba restaurant never bothered you; it's a place where people came to eat, not to talk, after all. you two were the only people inside for now, but the sounds of utensils clanking and the smell of more food being cooked in the kitchen were very much present, and still, besides that, it was silent.

and still, your mind never seemed to get over how giyuu just brushed your inability to utter something reassuring off. maybe he didn't even want and didn't need the comfort you failed to provide; maybe he expected something like that from you, judging from your earlier reaction to his words just as he'd started talking. yes, he must've known you were bad at feelings, especially other people's, but was he used to it? he undeniably looked like he was, and that was just sad.

chopsticks carefully picking up the soba and guiding them into your mouth, noticing giyuu doing the same near you, your mind picked up the thought that, probably, saying something regarding what he told you about would be inappropriate, but you couldn't shake off the feeling of needing to get something out; something that could just show him that you understand him that much, at least.

"sabito would most definitely be out to get you for the mindset you have now."

out of the corner of your eye you notice that giyuu's hand, previously holding his chopsticks with a bit of noodles picked up, stops. it's not at all an abrupt stop, more like when coming to a thought one's mind has been chasing for a while already. you stop, too, having finished chewing.

and when the silence between you two starts feeling a little too long and a little too tense, and you start thinking that you may have said a very wrong and inappropriate thing, giyuu speaks up in a such relaxed and unimpressed manner that you involuntarily start questioning your choice of words. you'd expected him to get mad or upset, but not—

"you for yours, too."

oh.

"...touchè."

well.

the nights are—mostly—always silent.

the nights spent with giyuu are silent in their own, unmistakable way.

you two seem to create another form of serenity together—everything becomes as still as possible, wind appearing barely once for a few moments to ruffle the trees' leaves and then disappear without a trace.

your head is gently laid on giyuu's lap and gaze fixed on the night sky above with the stars filling the inky abyss, each sparkling more than the previous, as if trying to catch your attention, your eyes move from one to another, wanting to get a look at them all, wanting to engrave the look of them in your mind and keep it here; but there was just so much — you aren't sure if there even exists a number as big as the number of stars up there.

("do you think we get a star out there after death?"

"...maybe."

"would you try to look for mine when i die?"

"..."

"...sorry."

"...i would.")

with giyuu still looking somewhere in front of him—you can't quite decipher where, maybe he's just spaced out—your hand somewhere a bit lower your chest and his hand laying loosely over yours, you close your eyes and slowly inhale the night air; it smells of pine and momentarily happiness.

a few moments later giyuu's head tangibly shifts, and, having little self-restraint when it comes to curiosity, you open your eyes again—maybe he'd be looking at something different now?

and as your eyelids open, you find him to be staring at no one other than you.

eyes usually cold as a snowstorm and endless as the abyss above you both have now descended to endearment and devotion as they look into yours. they twitch slightly lower and to the side, watching your lips for a few seconds, before coming back upwards to your eyes.

he's so enchanting—close to being as enchanting as the stars he's now blocking your view of. maybe he even looks like one in your mind, or maybe it's just his endless eyes, the colors of which blend into the matching endless night sky. you notice yourself not minding the blocked view if the one doing it is giyuu.

with the main sight now being his eyes instead of the gleaming celestial bodies—you can't exactly complain—you feel like staring into them an eternity more, and then another and another until you've memorized each and every pattern in them. and you're sure that if eyes could talk, both your and his would scream affection.

"you're blocking the view," you say, having no more stars to see right in front of you, them being replaced with giyuu's face.

"you seem to be enjoying it all the same," giyuu declares, unimpressed, despite his eyes narrowing the slightest bit in amusement. you're pretty sure his mouth's corners nearly curve upwards. you would've loved to witness him smile, especially at the moment.

you hum quietly, eyes wandering over his face—how can one attract so much? and it's not just about his beauty; he's everything you've ever needed and didn't know you ever needed in your life. "i never said i wasn't enjoying it."

giyuu, too, can't seem to be able to tear his eyes away from you—starting from your eyes as well, they descend lower to your lips (he's a very patient man), neck—and he regrets both of you being too shy and humble to try and leave hickeys on each other, he would enjoy that sight very much—then your uniform which just suits you so much, and, in the end, your hand, one of which is held by his—when did he go from it simply lying on top of yours to holding it?—and he involuntarily laces your fingers together slowly, eyes following each and every movement. your hands are almost just as his—arms a bit scarred underneath the clothes, skin on the palms calloused from holding your katanas, along with healed nicks and occasional cuts.

humming as well in acknowledgement of your words, his gaze follows the trail back to your face and settle back on your eyes. he has to remind himself to not look into them too long, fearing he'd get too lost in their infinite beauty.

"we could stay like this forever," giyuu suddenly speaks up, and with the quietness of the words said they don't seem to disturb the silence at all.

"we could."

you get what he's trying to say. there was never enough time for both of you since the moment you've joined the demon slayers, and then the hashiras, signing yourself a death warrant when doing so; it's pointless to deny the truth and the inevitable, and you both long learned to embrace it.

but all the sadness and inevitableness can be forgot at times like these, right? even just for the night or for a few hours before the two of you go back to your routine duties.

"but what would you do then?" you continue, being tempted into asking the question with the smallest teasing lilt in your voice, as if prompting him to speak about his feelings about you.

feelings are hard, especially for someone like him—especially for someone with the past and job he has—but slowly, bit-by-bit, step-by-step, you try to get him to understand them, even if you're lost in your own and sometimes can't find a way out of your own feelings. you guess it comes with the job.

guyuu stops to think for, maybe, a bit more than a minute or two, and lets the silence embrace both of you again. again, it's never tense with him (you don't really want to remember the time he told you about sabito, though it still lingers in the back of your mind and comes up in the most unpleasant times), as you two gratefully grab onto the every little bit of serenity and peace you have.

while he thinks, your gaze, once again, roams over his face, with the twinkling stars now serving as a simple background for what—who—you're seeing, being a pleasant compliment to the sight in front of you. moonlight obligingly illuminates a great half of his face, letting you see most details on it, and who would you be if you missed on this opportunity?

nearly just as he's about to start talking, his lips opening and, dear gods above, he can sense your eyes shifting to his moving lips. it's always with you that he feels like a teenager—not really lovey-dovey, but it's a fact that he lets himself be more open to feelings with you.

"i would..." giyuu starts, taking a small break before continuing—to gather his thoughts, knowing you're watching him as intently as you can, and it's not in the least bit uncomfortable as it would be if it wasn't you.

"i would look at you," he says. "for the rest of eternity. i wouldn't want to do anything else besides it."

as he finishes speaking, you slowly but surely feel the tips of your ears becoming a shade of red; thankfully, it's not your face. yet.

"is that so?" you manage to whisper out, taking slow and barely audible breaths to try and calm your fast beating heart. he probably can hear it with how your back lays on his lap, but that doesn't really matter. "wouldn't you get bored?"

"never."

you're sure your face gets a small tint of red.

you, involuntarily, hold your breath after his words, eyes widening a tad bit, and it's only a few seconds later that you quietly exhale the air you didn't know you have been holding in.

the words he says are so simple—but he does have a way with them, and that's what makes you love him more and more with each syllable leaving his lips.

there's moonlight illuminating his—and your—face, and you seem to notice it just now. it shines onto a great half of his face, letting you see even more details on his skin, and if it was illegal to stare for so long, you'd be long behind bars, living your worst ever imaginable life without having something as precious and pretty as giyuu to look at.

his eyes shift. you get the hint just as his gaze moves onto your lips—you've been looking at them so attentively, it'd be a shame if you didn't notice that.

having taken a, supposedly, not so fitting of a position to kiss, you have to sit up using your hands and place them on the grass beneath you to hold yourself up, and your face moves just enough for him to understand. you don't make any rash movements; you're careful but your intentions are evident.

giyuu's face shifts closer, too. it moves forward until he feels like both your and his lips are soon to meet together. one look into each other's eyes is all it takes for his appearance to soften and lean towards you.

your lips touch in a kiss and you feel like you could die right now and there because of how soft it feels, coming from him, usually so sharp and harsh; it feels like your lips are melting together but you don't have it in you to mind—it's been far too long since you two have had any time to yourselves and your small affections and you don't know when you'll have another night like this.

his eyes settle closed the same time as yours do, and as much as you like looking at him, it just helps the atmosphere around you even more. giyuu's lips slowly, gently move against yours and you just happen to think of how tender they are, and that warms your chest more than anything.

it's silent and wordless with giyuu, and you just happen to love it.

[racinggirl]

promise

Lando Norris Fic - requested

My inbox for requests

a/n: Oh my godness I'm back y'all! It's been so long! It's the first request of hopefully many to come. So far my inbox is empty again, so don't hold back to send in some requests, one, or more. You can even send some anonymously! I hope you will like this story, and keep reading to find some little extra's I added, because I loved making AU's as well. Let me know your thoughts, tips, tops, anything really. It keeps me motivated to write more, so any form of feedback is very welcomed! Now, sit back, relax, and enjoy this fic 🧡

‘’Promise.’’ You linked your pinkie finger with the 5-year-old curly haired boy, giggling as the both of you were running around the playground, hiding from his mother.

‘’Come on, I’m nearly 25 already! I can easily go on vacation on my own!’’ You had always wanted to go on a road trip, preferably with a partner on your side, but that hadn’t been the case yet. So, you decided to go alone, because why not? You were old enough to look out for yourself, even though your parents weren’t too keen on the idea of their daughter traveling around Europe on her own.

‘’The world has changed, Y/N, it’s not safe to go on your own.’’

‘’But-…’’

‘’No, you’re not going on your own, end of story.’’

You groaned at your parents’ reaction and went to your room, frustrated, upset, but somehow you got their point. They weren’t wrong, the world had changed, and wasn’t that innocent anymore. Wherever you were watching the news, reports about murder, drunken drivers, kidnappers, it was all out there.

‘There’re more crazy people out in the world than there are behind bars’ was something your father would say, and he wasn’t wrong.

However, you wished you would have been able to do what that curly haired boy did. Sometimes you were jealous of him, jealous of how he travelled all around the world, going from one country to another, flying from Finland to Australia to Bali and back to his new home, Monaco.

Him and you met when you were karting in Bristol, the both of you loving the sport more than ever. However, karting wasn’t a girl’s sport, at least not to the world at that age. That’s why you moved on from it, where he pursued his dream career, you were only there to cheer from the side lines.

You hated learning, studying, it’s something you never were good at, or at least, not in school. Whenever you saw the data on the karting track, you’d spent hours trying to understand every piece of data that was coming through.

You begged your parents to let you go to engineering school, university. They didn’t want you to, it wasn’t a ‘girl’s thing’ to do, but after you refused to do anything else, they eventually agreed on letting you go to engineering school.

4 years later, and you had your engineering degree. You couldn’t be happier, because right now it meant you might do something you’d actually enjoy. Even if it wasn’t a ‘girl’s thing’ to do, you loved it.

‘’Hey’’ you smiled as you brought the phone close to your ear, lying in bed as you checked the time.

‘’Hey, did you see?’’

‘’Oh yeah, I did.’’ You laughed, looking up at the ceiling. ‘’You were flying! Pole position baby!’’ You giggled, smiling even harder when you heard him on the other side, repeating the final three words of your sentence.

‘’You still have to come for a race someday, you know?’’ His deep voice was ringing through your ears, and it immediately made your chest feel warm, it always did, he always did.

‘’Mhm.. I know, and I will, when my parents finally let me.’’ You sighed, playing with the ropes of your hoodie.

‘’You’re almost 25, when will they ever let you do your own things?’’

‘’I don’t know,’’ you sighed heavily, ‘’when I’m 40?’’

The sound of his laugh made you sit up straight, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink as you heard his laughter.

‘’Nah, I’ll have you kidnapped by then.’’ He smiled, causing you to giggle next. ‘’They’ll destroy you when you do that.’’

‘’Good thing I have my bodyguards, then.’’ And that made your heart feel a thousand times warmer. He was never one to brag about his success, never. He always was very modest, very gentle, and never liked it whenever people talked about the amount of money he had, or how famous he was. That’s why you clicked so good. You knew each other from when you were 3 years old, and he knew you liked him as a friend, and not because he was a driver.

‘’I asked them if I could go on a road trip, alone.’’ You quietly said, hearing how he fumbled around on the other side of the line. A soft ‘hold on, I’m busy’ made you smile, knowing he told whoever was there to wait, because he was talking to you.

‘’And let me guess, they wouldn’t let you go alone because the world is dangerous.’’

‘’Yep, exactly.’’ You sighed but sat up straight when you heard him gasp.

‘’Lando, what did you do?’’

‘’Nothing.’’

‘’What are you thinking?’’

Silence…

‘’Lando?’’

‘’Come with me.’’ You could hear his grin through the phone, and he could hear your brains working overtime because he immediately started to explain himself. ‘’You won’t be alone, you’ll be with me, my team, my crew.’’ He said. ‘’You can travel the world with me, I might even be able to work around some things here to have you here for some sort of internship, so you won’t have any expenses, and you’ll be able to come to the races with me. Your parents know me, I’m not a stranger.’’

You wanted to say yes, you wanted to give in because honestly, it was a great idea.

‘’But, and these aren’t my worlds, but you’re famous, Lando, and you-…’’

‘’I’m still the same Lando from 20 years ago.’’

‘’I know, I know that, but my parents don’t, you know how they are…’’

You hated the fact you just basically told him you couldn’t go with him because he was famous, and you hated that word as much as he did. Your parents were always so fond of him, they loved him, but they also always made sure to tell you that he had a lot of money, was very well known around the world and that most famous people weren’t the same people they were before they had the money. They’d say that the fame got to their heads, but it wasn’t the same with Lando. He had always been that giggly, funny, sweet, and caring boy, but simply because he wasn’t around during Christmas dinners, or the traditional ‘start of spring’ picnic, they assumed he felt too good for those kinds of things. You explained to them that he was just busy, that because of his job, the start of spring was in the middle of the start of the season, and that he simply couldn’t make it. But they were your parents, stubborn as always.

‘’Y/N?’’

‘’Hmm, sorry, what?’’ You said, hearing him chuckle on the other side of the phone.

‘’Let me talk to them, okay? Let me try to convince them, because honestly, you wouldn’t be the only one to benefit from that decision.’’ He whispered, causing your cheeks to heat up again.

‘’Okay.’’

‘’Lando?’’ Your parents were surprised to see him at your front step. He promised you he’d come to talk to your parents, and he always keeps his promises.

‘’Y/F/N, Y/M/N, it’s been a while, it’s good to see you again.’’ He was always very polite. Calling your parents by their first name was something you always did; you did the same with Adam and Cisca.

It was a good conversation, you occasionally tried to mix yourself into it. A reassuring smile from the curly haired boy made you confident enough to speak up to your parents, and this time, with success, because only a few weeks after your conversation you were packing your clothes.

One year. For one year you’d join Lando with his journey around the world. You had no idea how he did it, and especially this fast, but he had managed to give you an internship position at McLaren, meaning you could come along to the races, the dream scenario for every Lando-girl out there.

‘’You’re the best, you know?’’ You laughed, placing your phone on the bed as you zipped up your suitcases. Instead of living here in London with your parents for a year, you and him both decided it would be the best if you would live in his apartment near Woking. It was still close to home, and to the factory.

He was the best one could imagine, and you knew he was, because he was always there, and he always kept his promises.

You put your phone away and collected the things you had to before ordering a taxi to head straight to the airport. You had been living in his apartment for almost 2 weeks now, and things were good, they were great. He occasionally came to Woking for work, but also to spend time with you. You were best friends ever since, and nothing could ever change that.

The moment you arrived on the airport you felt it again. Those feelings you have been trying to ignore the moment they appeared again, the moment your brain wandered off and thought of him. He always made you feel that way, but you ignored it, always. It might sound cliché, and you hated thinking about it because in every romance book it got romanticized. Having feelings for your best friend never worked out great, except in those books.

But reality is, you’re not living in a book, you’re living in the real world, and it was dangerous. Feelings weren’t mutual all the time, and you didn’t want to find out if it was the case this time because you didn’t want to get your heart broken, so being friends made you be close, feel good without the heartbreak ending it.

It went quick, you got in the jet and 1 hour and a few minutes later you were already back on the ground. He was right, it was faster. Of course he was right, he always was, and that made you fall for him even more, how silly it may sound.

He had texted you, saying he was waiting in his car because of the fans wandering at the airport. Someone spotted his car on the way here, and the FBI agents they are, they immediately put one and one together. He was picking up someone, or his girlfriend, something most fans would say.

‘’Hey.’’ You smiled as you embraced him in a tight hug, he smelled good, he always did. A mix of Dior Sauvage and his own scent made you inhale his scent deeply. It felt like home. You explained him that mixing 3 very expensive perfumes wasn’t making him smell 3 times better, he used to mix most of his perfumes until you made that comment. He asked which one you liked the most, and ever since you mentioned Sauvage all he wore was that. But you never noticed the reason was because you mentioned it, you always thought he simply liked that fragrance the most.

‘’Hey, how was the flight?’’ He opened your car door after helping you put the suitcase in his trunk, the real gentleman he was, and hopped in the driver’s seat.

‘’Amazing, the most relaxing flight I’ve ever had.’’ You sighed, putting on your seatbelt before looking over at him, how he started the car and drove out of the parking garage.

You talked more, about the flight, about how things were at the apartment, his apartment here in Monaco, you even talked about your plans these next upcoming days.

‘’We’ll go to London tomorrow.’’ He whispered. The both of you were laying on his couch in his apartment here in Monaco. Instead of watching TV, you had moved the couch so you both could see the harbour, and the sun setting in the ocean.

The couple of weeks you had been here were the best you ever experienced. You did many things, from shopping to karting in Italy, a day at the beach in France, simracing and even streaming. You made chat very clear you were best friends and nothing more, but when people in chat started to ask about his feelings, and about yours, he told you, quietly, to not answer and ignore them, whatever that might have meant.

‘’Really?’’ Your smile grew wider when he mentioned that. It would be your birthday in 2 days, and you always spent your birthday at home, with your family and friends. Last year he couldn’t make it, as the season started the day your birthday was, but this year he made his way around it. Your birthday was on Tuesday, so Wednesday you’d both fly with his jet to Bahrein for the first race of the year.

‘’Mhm, I wouldn’t want to break your birthday tradition.’’ He smiled, his lips placing a tender kiss on your temple. You were lying when you said your feelings towards him hadn’t grown these couple of weeks with him in Monaco. Everything he did gave you tinglings in your stomach and you couldn’t help ignoring them anymore. You surrendered to the fact you had a crush on him, you liked your best friend, and it was the best feeling ever.

‘’Happy Birthday!’’ Your parents were waiting in the living room when you entered the house. They decorated the entire room with balloons, garlands, and pictures from your first till your 24th birthday.

‘’Smile!’’ They held the camera out in front of you, and you immediately felt an arm wrapped around your shoulder. This caused your smile to grow even wider.

‘’Happy Birthday, beautiful.’’ He whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple as his scent immediately went through your nose.

‘’Thank you…’’ You whispered, looking into his bright eyes and immediately looking down after, trying to hide the fact you were blushing because of his actions.

Later that evening, after you spent time with your family and friends, you and Lando went back to his apartment. You got many gifts, and you couldn’t be happier about this day.

‘’How was your day?’’ You felt the vibrations of his deep voice going through your entire body, leaning against him as you were seated on the couch of his apartment.

‘’Amazing.’’ You smiled. ‘’Couldn’t be better.’’

‘’Oh, but I think it can.’’ He reached for something in his bag, and once he got the box, he handed it to you. ‘’Happy Birthday, beautiful.’’ He whispered again, watching how you opened the box slowly.

You pulled the black coloured leash that was hanging from the side of the box and gently placed it on the table in front of you. You lifted the lid and grabbed the small bag inside of the box.

‘’Lando.’’ You gasped, touching the velvet bag and opening it slowly. Tears were burning in your eyes at this point, because you realised he made all this effort to get the perfect gift for you. And he succeeded because it was more than perfect.

‘’This is way too crazy.’’ You whispered, feeling how he moved your hair to the side, helping you clipping the silver Swarovski necklace around your neck.

‘’Look inside.’’ He said, tucking some hair away from your face with his fingers, causing your nervousness to grow even more.

You opened the necklace and smiled when you saw the picture inside. It immediately gave you flashbacks, because even though you were only 4 and 5 years old, it was the brightest memory you had from the two of you.

FLASHBACK

‘’Dating is stupid! Kissing is stupid!’’ You laughed when you were seated on the swing, holding tightly when Lando pushed you carefully.

‘’I know! My mommy and daddy kiss when daddy comes home from work and it’s so weird!’’ He laughed, making sure you wouldn’t fall from the swing.

‘’Lando! Y/N! Come on, it’s time to go home!’’ You heard Cisca calling for the both of you, and you jumped off the swing immediately.

‘’Come on, run!’’ He held your hand and while the both of you laughed, you ran to the playground, hiding from Lando’s mom. ‘’Shhh..’’

You stayed there for almost 5 minutes, which seemed like an eternity when you’re just 4 years old. ‘’I have an idea.’’ The curly haired boy smiled and held your hand tightly.

‘’Okay, tell me!’’ You giggled.

‘’When we’re both 25 and we’re still single, I’ll ask you to marry me.’’ He smiled, causing you to giggle and laugh, him doing the same. ‘’Okay!’’

‘’Lando! Y/N, come on we have to go, it’s getting dark!’’ You ran away again, running around the playground as you linked your pinkie finger with him. ‘’Promise’’.

END OF FLASHBACK

After he clipped the necklace around your neck, he took a hold of your hand and grabbed the second box in his bag. He kneeled in front of you, a smile on his lips as he opened the box with one hand.

‘’Marry me.’’ He whispered. ‘’Not now, don’t worry. But one day. You know I am a man of my word, and I still remember that day so well.’’ He smiled, looking at your necklace and then back into your eyes. He always maintained eye contact with you, and it made you feel safe and secure, because you know you can trust those eyes.

‘’I’ve been counting the days till your birthday, knowing that the day you turned 25, I was able to ask this question. I’m lying when I say I was hoping you wouldn’t find someone to be by your side, because, and maybe I’m being selfish, but I want to be that man. It’s too fast to immediately ask you to marry me, because I can’t force you to say yes, but God… Y/N. See this as a promise ring. See this as a promise ring that we’ll be together, that I’ll be the man in your life that makes you the happiest you’ll ever be.’’

Tears were streaming down your face as you listened to every word he said. Every word chosen so carefully yet so chaotically, because this is the moment you knew you weren’t the only one feeling this intense love for him. He felt it for you, too.

You answered him by cupping his cheeks with your hands and doing the one thing you have been dreaming of doing for almost 22 years. You kissed him, his lips moving on yours almost instantly caused you to smile against his lips, him following your movements. This kiss was something else, something that made all the butterflies in your stomach explode with fireworks, like they were all holding a fairy light and lighting them all at the same time.

‘’I love you, Lando, I always have, and I’m so glad I can finally say it out loud now.’’ You giggled, feeling his hand reaching for yours and the ring slipped around your finger so effortlessly.

‘’I love you too, and I promise I’ll get you a proper engagement ring.’’ He whispered before pressing his lips on yours again, firmly, full of love.

2 years later

[jgracie]

HII for your 600 followers event could you do a Percy Jackson x daughter of Hermes fic?? Thank you so much!! And congratulations!!

💬 hi anon thank u sooo much!!! 🤍 i always get excited whenever someone reqs a child of hermes cz my sister is one LOL

SECRETLY ADMIRING — PERCY JACKSON + DAUGHTER OF HERMES ˚⟡˖ ࣪ in which percy can't be mad at you for stealing from him, not when you look that cute

percy's blue hoodie was gone again. the boy huffed and ran his fingers through his hair, choosing to take a break from turning the entire poseidon cabin upside down and sitting on his bed. he didn't understand how it'd always disappear after he'd only worn it once, then mysteriously appear again once it needed washing

when he first noticed the pattern, percy thought it was just some weird coincidence. however, it kept happening so now percy was convinced he'd angered some god or goddess of clothing and they were punishing him by making sure he'd rarely ever get to wear his favourite hoodie

unfortunately for them, percy was awfully stubborn. getting up, he decided to go visit cabin 11 and ask you for help in finding it. being hermes' daughter, you probably knew everything about thievery and would be able to find it with ease

"hey percy," travis said as he ushered the boy in. your cabin was a mess, as it usually was, with kids running around everywhere and poor connor stoll running after them to make sure they didn't blow anything up. while you often complained about the noise, opting to sleep at percy's during the majority of nights, percy loved how homey it felt compared to his barren cabin

with his hands on his hips, percy said, "hey travis, is y/n here?" to which travis immediately smirked. he was your number one tease and the main reason the two of you ended up together in the first place, so he couldn't help it

"she is," he began, "but she's sleeping. how she's doing that with all the noise around here, i have no clue. anyway, you know where her bunk is, don't you?" percy nodded, of course he knew where your bunk is, how could he not? thanking travis, he headed further into your cabin, nearly tripping over toys, clothes and many other random bits and bobs that were lying around

the mystery of where percy's hoodie had gone was solved before he could even get the chance to wake you up. cuddling a pillow and lightly snoring was you, his beloved girlfriend, wearing a pair of shorts and his blue hoodie. as soon as percy laid his eyes on you, any annoyance he had towards the hoodie thief had quickly gone - he couldn't be mad when you looked that adorable in his clothes

"how long have you been standing there?" you asked, startling percy. your brows furrowed as you took in all the chaos around you. how had you fallen asleep in these conditions?

sitting on the edge of your bed, percy took your hand and began to fidget with your fingers, "not long," he said, "came here to ask you if you could help me look for my hoodie, but i've already found it," he smiled and gestured to your blue hoodie clad body

you felt your face heat up and looked down shyly. you were planning to return the hoodie, of course, you just didn't expect to be caught red handed with it before you did, "sorry, perce, i just really like it. smells like you 'n all. i was gonna give it back, promise!"

"when it needed washing?" percy deadpanned. you giggled, nodding your head. you were definitely a little attached to percy's blue hoodie

now firmly gripping your hand, with equally firm eye contact, percy said, "it's okay, you can wear my clothes anytime. they're cuter on you anyways"

[mellifiedprincess]

anotha one😝 this fic is pure crack honestly, it’s not my best work and i was sleep deprived and wrote this in like 20 minutes, soooo keep that in mind. i also imagined the reader being super short in this, because i may have a wee bit of a size kink (don’t tell anyone🤭) but like how cute would ethan look with a partner that’s like 4’11 compared to his 6’1 ass. AGHHH I CANT

Ethan Landry x Reader

Nap time

Everyone who knew you, knew that there was only one thing in this world that could rival your love for Ethan. And that was napping. You couldn’t help that you were a sleepy girl. You were lucky enough too, that you could nap anywhere. Whether it be your head resting on a hard countertop, the lap of one of your friends, you were even found asleep on the stairs in your parents home once.

Unfortunately though, as of lately, you haven’t been able to sleep that well. And you knew exactly what the cause of this was from, well more of WHO the cause of this was from. Ethan fucking Landry. The boy with the loveliest doe eyes, the boy with the sweetest smile, the boy that stole your heart all those months ago and has told you he was never giving it back.

But he didn’t just steal your heart, no, he stole your ability of napping anywhere your little heart desired.

You couldn’t nap without him anymore.

Of course it wasn’t all his fault, you were the one to snuggle up to him, thinking you were only going to ‘rest’ your eyes for a few seconds. Those few seconds turned into two hours. You couldn’t help it. He was just so warm and smelled so good. It certainly didn’t help that he was running his fingers through your hair while softly humming in your ear. Anyone would have fallen under his spell and drifted off in minutes, if they had been in the position you were in. At least that’s what yoy keep telling yourself.

You had also, by now, convinced yourself he did all of it on purpose.

Which is why you’ve been glaring at him for the past seven minutes. You were sleepy, and all you wanted was to lay your sweet little head down and take a nap. But when your head hits the soft pillow on Ethan’s bed, you find yourself not able to fall asleep. You knew in your head all you needed to do was ask Ethan to come lay down with you, and he would. He would do absolutely anything you asked of him. But you were furious with him. Furious that his conspiracy against you has worked.

“Baby, we’ve talked about how you have to tell me when I’ve upset you, otherwise I won’t know how to fix it.” He wasn’t even looking at you, he had his back towards you while he worked at his desk. “I can quite literally feel the heat from your eyes, angel.” “Well my eyes would be closed and I would be fast asleep, taking my much needed nap if you wouldn’t have ruined them for me.” You grumble out, arms crossed, brows furrowed, adorable pout present.

He drops his pencil at that, confusion wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what Ethan felt. “How did I ruin your nap?” His voice raises an octave higher out of disbelief, and he finally turns to look at you. “I’ve been quiet this whole time and you have quite literally fallen asleep at frat parties before, where it was much more chaotic. I had to nearly tackle someone to stop them from sitting on you.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what you did!” You yell as you jump up, standing on Ethan’s bed and pointing an accusing finger at him. His brown eyes widen, not sure if you’re just having one of your ‘moments’ as he likes to call them, or if you’ve actually lost your mind. “I don’t though, that’s why I asked you to tell me.” At his remark, you ball your fists up, throwing them down at your side, all while making the cutest grumbling sound.

Ethan stands from his chair, coming to stand in front of you at his bed. Since you’re standing on his bed, you’re looking down at him. His hands grab yours, unballing your “threatening” fists, and he’s pleading with his eyes. “Tell me what I did so I can make up for it.” After a few seconds you throw your head back with a loud groan, before dramatically falling forward to be caught by Ethan, wrapping your arms and legs around him completely. “I can’t nap without you.” You all but cry out, still holding a menacing stare as your forehead touches his.

He laughs. He laughs right in your face. “Stop laughing at me!” You push his face away from yours, squirming in his arms trying but failing to get away from him. “Awe, I’m sorry baby. What can I do to help?” To anyone else, he would sound patronizing, but you knew he genuinely was sorry and wanted to make you feel better.

“Don’t you need to finish your homework?” Your eyes glance over at the anatomy worksheet, and then back to Ethan. “Yeah, well I think my baby needs me more. So, I’m not worried about that right now.” You grin at his words, placing a sweet kiss to his lips, before pulling away pretending to look deep in thought. He already knows what you need, he also knows you’re just too scared to ask. All because you got in your own head about how dependent you’ve become of him. He loved it. He loved that you needed him just for the smallest of things like taking a nap.

“Do you want me to lay down with you while you nap? I’ll even hold your hand the entire time, if you want.” You giggle at that, already feeling much more relaxed. “What if I want to wrap myself around you like a koala? Would you let me do that?”

“You’re already the size of one, so why not?”

“Ethan!”

You’re pouting again, and he could only smile because you were just too fucking cute. “Okay! Okay! I’m done.” He pushes a few strands of hair out of your face, and grabs your chin, placing a few kisses to your pouted lips.

“Can we lay down now? You’ve been standing here holding me for like 10 minutes now, your arms have to hurt by now.”

“Baby.” He says with disbelief. “I’ve held you for way longer than 10 minutes, while we were doing something a lot more physically demanding.” Your cheeks immediately flush red at his words. Hiding your face in his neck. “Don’t get all shy on me now. You were just yelling at me 10 minutes ago about ruining your naps.” He couldn’t help but tease you, it was just too easy.

“Ethan, stop it.” You mumble out. He laughs again, but finally moves to sit you back down on his bed. You climb to the top, and wait for Ethan to join you. He goes to slip under the blanket with you, but you stop him. “No! You have to take your clothes off!” He holds his hands out in front of him, in a defensive manner. “Someone’s not so shy now. You need me to tire you out or something?”

You roll your eyes at your dumb boyfriend, and watch as he removes his tshirt and jeans. “I meant so I could sleep on you more comfortably, you perv!” “You’re calling me a perv, after asking me to strip and defile you?”

You open and close your mouth “I didn’t ask-“ You stop, exhaling sharply through your nose. “Please, E, just get in the damn bed.” “I’m coming, jeez!” Finally, he lays down beside you, and before you could move, he turns and wraps his arms around your body, an innocent grin on his pretty lips. And you can already feel your eyes grow heavy, as his fingers begin to trail up and down your spine and he presses soft kisses to your temple.

“Get some rest, sweet girl, because I will be defiling you when you wake up.” His tone is light and playful.

“Ethannn, can you stop being such a horny teenage boy for two seconds?” Your tone is annoyed. “Yeah, as long as you’re around, that’s not happening.”

“You’re such a whore.” Ethan laughs at your remark, squeezing you even closer, if possible, to his body. He’s finally quiet after that, besides the soft humming coming from his lips.

And he would never admit this to you, but he was having trouble sleeping without you by his side too. He loved the weight of you on his chest, the way your hair smelled. He especially loved when you would take his hand in yours, all while still sleeping, and hold it to your chest. You would hold it so tight sometimes he would lose feeling in his fingers.

He didn’t care though. Because he loved you and all of those things produced a warm, comfortable feeling he never received as a child.

So, he would lay there for hours, and watch the rise and fall of your chest, and listen to the soft snores leave your mouth. All without a single complaint.

[cambion-companion]

could I request for you to write an scenario in which Raphael does not die to Tav nor their party, but in an other similarly humiliating circumstances, and Tav when learning about this desperately goes to save Raphael from his father by bargaining with Mephistopheles? (hilariously in a very sad way, I assume this, is the only moment that Mephistopheles would ever "value" Raphael's life, but then again that is devils for you) and Raphael's confusion at the whole thing, someone taking a terrible bargain to save him, just… because they… like him…??? (bonus points, if Tav still has a crown to willingly give Raphael XD)

It's beat up Raphael hours huh? (also Korilla will be fine)

Hi there love. This turned from a drabble into a oneshot haha

Have fun running to Cania to pick up your wayfaring devil!

Raphael x reader (gn)

Korilla had come to you.

Broker and bruised, battered and bloody. Her long curly hair matted with mud and dried viscous.

“Help him.”  Her first words, rasped from a throat raw from screams.

“Korilla!”  You caught her weight as her knees buckled, lowering her gently to the ground.  The Dwarven woman wasn’t your friend by any means, but she had been your ally.  “Who needs my help?”  You couldn’t fathom who she might be referring to.

Surely it wasn’t Raphael. It couldn’t possibly be the enigmatic, self-assured cambion.

Korilla’s answering rasp dispelled any doubt. “My master.”

A fog of shock settled over your mind, your hands loosening around Korilla’s shaking form.  She whispered the truth into your ear, her bruised lips trailing her blood onto your clammy skin. With fading voice Korilla told of the attack, Raphael’s demise and his imminent doom.

“Portal. Diabolist.  Cania.”  Korilla’s breaths grew short as she fought valiantly once more against the oncoming black.

“Hold on, Korilla.  You’re going to be okay.”

“Save him.” She said again, her eyes slowly glossing over as the life left her broken body.

You cursed.  The warlock’s last actions had been to find you in a desperate hope you’d help Raphael before he was consumed by his father.  His father who just so happened to be an archdevil. Mephistopheles.

“Little shit could’ve mentioned that.”  You grimaced, lowering Korilla’s body to rest upon the cold earth.

You stood, pinching the bridge of your nose as your thoughts whirled and clashed. Not only had the attackers killed Raphael, but they had also looted his house, stealing the Orphic hammer and the only hope you’d had of defeating the Elder Brain.

“Damn it.”  You returned to your companions with the news. “Looks like we’re taking a rescue party to hell.”

“Who’s the damsel in distress?”  Astarion asked, tilting his head as his red eyes flickered over your blood-flecked form.

“Raphael.”

The plan was to use as much stealth as possible. The vaults of Mephisto had been broken into not long ago, according to Raphael, so it was possible.  A direct confrontation with the archdevil himself was out of the question.  

The diabolist in Baldur’s Gate took some convincing, but in the end you were able to push enough gold across the counter to seal the deal.  

“Very well.  Though I warn you, you’ll not return alive or with your souls intact.”

“Yes, yes.”  You waved the woman off, her visage reminding you of Korilla. “Believe me, I’ve heard it all before.”  Your eyes scanned the musky shop. Do you have anything that will locate a specific fiend?”

With a Locate Creature spell scroll ready in your bag you watched as the diabolist created for you a portal. Ice crystals immediately crusted on the edge of the black abyss, the wind coming from the portal nearly freezing your shoes to the floor.

“Quickly, and remember the disguises!”  She ushered you and your party through, the frigid darkness enveloping you with a grim finality.

Through cold halls you’d snuck, invisible fingers cold as death scraping along your back and through your hair as you passed beneath torches of blue flame.

Time lost all meaning here.  Your eyes began to play tricks on you. The only thing keeping your mind focused was the spell lighting the edge of your vision with a warm glow, growing brighter as you hurried to where Raphael was being held.

An age, or an hour had passed.

The wrought iron door, so cold to the touch it burned, swung noiselessly inward, admitting you to an octagonal shaped room. On the far wall you saw him, his form dark, chained by one wrist to the wall.

“Raphael.”  You hissed, unexplainable relief flooding your frozen veins when his head moved in response.  

Your companions waited by the open doorway, keeping watch from the shadows.  You snuck as quickly as you could to where Raphael was restrained. His glowing eyes looking down upon you with consternation before recognition slowly dawned across his sharp features.

You held up a hand, silencing him as he opened his mouth. Movement could be heard from outside the prison room. You were running out of time.

“Can you get us out of here if I free you?”  You hissed, still keenly aware of the nature of the devil.

Raphael nodded, his tail moving to and fro in agitation.  Something about his vitality seemed to be missing, you had never imagined seeing him in such a state.  It was unsettling.

The matter of removing the singular shackle proved to be more challenging than you’d thought.  Astarion’s lockpicking skills proved futile.

“It’s a magical seal.”  Raphael breathed, his voice low yet sharp with anger born of desperation. “Now’s not the time to play the fool.”

You gave him a severe look which he matched right back at you, his eyes sparking flame.

You raised a hand to the ice-covered metal, about to dispel the magic surrounding the lock. “You owe me a favor.  A big one.  I don’t know yet what I will ask of you, but you will deliver. Understood?”

Raphael’s gaze scorched you for a moment, it was clear he was furious with his current predicament. But he had no choice, and both of you knew it.

He nodded curtly.

You cast your spell.

Raphael’s wrist broke free with the sharp sound of metal splintering. His hand closed tight around your arm, the dungeons of Mephisto melted away as you and your companions were yanked unceremoniously back to the material plane.

At least, your companions were.  Deposited non-gently upon the hard ground of your camp.

Raphael kept hold of you.  Taking you back to the foyer of his house. The house which still lay in semi ruin from its previous sacking.

He was angry.  Each step he took crackled fire and promise of swift vengeance.

“Raphael…”  You said hesitantly, following him down into the dining hall.  “Raphael, Korilla-”

“Is dead.”  Under the glow of firelight, you could properly see the state he was in. You winced when he turned to face you. “I know. Though not as dead as those who dared pillage my home, the fools.”

“Do you know who?”  You remained wary as you watched him conjure an armchair and sink down into it.

Raphael ignored your question, he issued orders in the abrasive Infernal tongue, seemingly into thin air.  His fingers clicked and a spark of flame licked around them.  Unseen servants began bustling around, clearing the debris and wreckage.  Setting the House of Hope back in order.

Raphael leveled his gaze upon you.  His expression was not unkind, it was calculating.  He had underestimated you and overestimated himself.  Not a mistake he’d make again.

“Why?”  No flowery words, no ado.

“I still need the hammer.”  You had the response prepared, having known the question was coming.

“You could have hunted down the thieves without my help.”  Raphael narrowed his hellfire eyes. “Why come to my aid?”

“Korilla asked me to.  It was her dying wish.”  You fidgeted under his piercing presence. “Besides, you’re a useful ally.  I still need your help to save the world.”

Raphael arched a brow, unconvinced. “Half-truths are still considered lies, dear.  But there are matters I must attend to.”  He stood, restless.  

“Will your father come for you again once he realizes you’re gone.”  The question came before you could stop yourself.

“Concerned for me?”  Raphael appraised you, a knowing tilt to his head. “No.  He will not.”

You didn’t argue, Raphael was clearly on edge, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

You rubbed circles against your aching temple. “Well, seems we have some thieves to track down.  A hammer to retrieve.”

Raphael looked as though he was biting back a sharp retort.  He chewed on his words, looking you over. “Yes.”  He growled, infernal fire flickering off his form. “You may watch as I peel their souls from the writhing mortal flesh.”

In an unexpected move, Raphael strode to you and took your hand, placing a kiss to your knuckles. His breath hot on your still chilled skin. “You may even assist me, if you so desire.”  He straightened.

That was as close to a “thank you” as you were going to get.

You set your jaw grimly. “When do we start?”

[3vergr3en]

Euijoo Boyfriend Headcanons 🍊

Pairing: college!bf!Euijoo x fem!reader

A/N: can't forget abt my bby juju 🤧 if you guys cant tell, heres my new monthly obsession 🤧🥳 HES SO EFFIN CUTE I WANNA JUMP ONTO ONCOMING TRAFFIC.

Additional Info: It does get mature towards the end, but majority of it is cutesy fluff <33

He's so gentle with you :((

He likes to gently run his fingers through your hair, but he loves watching you relax in his hands.

It gives him a sense of joy that he's able to make you feel safe and comfortable around him (😞💕)

He loves to be the big spoon, wanting to hold you in his arms after a stressful day it always eases his mind.

But every once in a blue moon, this boy wouldn't mind being cradled by you.

extra bonus points if you whisper how much you love him into his ear whilst caressing him.

An absolute sweetheart wherever he is.

He'd always be the first one to offer paying for anything. whether its lunch, coffee, dinner, or late night snacks, just as long as you go with him, that's all he cares about :)

"juju,, you paid for lunch last time!"

"I knoww.. but I don't care about money. I care about whether you're here with me :)"

Prefers to kiss in isolated areas or at home and not in public.

But if you guys are in public, he wouldn't mind a peck on the cheek or on the back of his palm.

You remember how embarrassed he got when you kissed him on the lips on your guys's first date.

His whole face turned red as he whined quietly, hiding his smile with his hands.

"y/n! we're in public,, at least give me a warning next time.."

"oh? theres a next time?"

"Y/n!"

He was the first one to make a move-- but that doesn't mean he did it smoothly.

When he did, it was at your college's cafe.

Euijoo and Nicholas worked part time as baristas there.

Nicho, for a while, had noticed his boy stealing glances at you, as well as the pink tint that would creep up on the latter's face.

"Dude, just go up to her and ask for her number already!" Nicho urges, jabbing his friend in the stomach with his elbow.

"Wh- are you crazy? No! What if she doesn't find me cute?"

"Do you want me to find out?"

"What? No!"

Let's just say Nicho somehow had Euijoo muster up enough courage to write his number on your coffee cup when you came to order your usual.

But as he went to hand you your drink, it nearly slips out of his hand, almost spilling all over you.

He was a little awkward when you guys first started kissing and it was obvious.

But you found it adorable, loving to teach him how to properly kiss.

You always assumed he would be the shy one both in public and indoors, but boy were you wrong.

He loves to lead your make-out sessions.

Now he kisses you with such ease that perhaps he's gotten a little too good at kissing; to now where you're struggling to keep up.

He always loves to first peck the corners of your lips, murmuring how soft your lips look.

And when he goes to kiss you, he's a little passionate with it.

With one hand on your waist and the other on the side of your neck, your guys's heads would sway slightly forwards and backwards, really getting into the kiss.

Pulling away to catch your breaths is one of the most favored parts for euijoo as he gets to see how dazed you get from just one make-out sesh.

"Woah," He chuckles, his loving smile now seeming to look a little smuggish, "Don't lose yourself there, love." He combs back a few strands of hair behind your ear.

In awe of how swollen and pretty your lips look.

But marvels of how beautiful you look in front of him.

"You look so beautiful, y/n.."

[junicult]

!! what it’d be like sleeping w the bachelors

contains ; nsfw! suggestive content. fem!farmer. desc of sex. oral (m & f!receiving). fingering. creampie(s). one brief mention of spitting. brief mentions of a breeding kink. praise. lots of kissing. not proofread!

harvey.

- fuck.

- i said this once, and i’ll say it again:

- he is a doctor. he knows. what. he’s. DOING!!!!!

- the most passionate. he’s extremely focused on how you’re feeling, if you’re happy, or comfortable.

- he’s obsessed with going down on you. it’s honestly his favorite part.

- sometimes you don’t even have sex, he just goes down on you and calls it a night.

- what? you feel dirty, and gross from working on the farm all day? that’s fine, he’ll respect your wishes. but in no way would that be an issue for him.

- if anything, it makes him happier because all that tells him is you’re working hard and healthy.

- and he just wants you to be healthy.

- which is why he likes to have sex every night! it’s good for your mind, body, and soul. doctors orders!

- it’s like a part of your nightly routine. an unspoken rule you’re never opposed to unless it’s really late or you’re exhausted.

- shower sex!! i said it.

- your skin all soapy and clean, wet hair clinging to your cheeks while he fucks u against the wall. lol.

- i feel like he doesn’t really curse. it’s not that he’s against it, he just doesn’t have those words in his daily vocabulary.

- but during sex…that’s a whole new thing.

- “fuck…fuck y’feel so good.” “oh my—shit, sweetheart. just like that.”

- he’s whimpering in your ear, breath heavy on your skin.

- he bites his lower lip to keep from being too loud.

- he insists on wearing a condom. practicing safe sex is extremely important to him!

- even if you’re on birth control. and especially if you’re not ready for children yet.

- but if you are…

- phew. that’s a different story for another day.

- he’s a missionary guy. or cowgirl, but mostly missionary.

- he just likes seeing you moaning underneath him, how easily he can kiss you, and look at you.

- his aftercare is the sweetest. loves giving you massages or rubs your feet after a long day.

- makes u pee after lol.

- kisses you endlessly. his lips have touched every inch of your body.

- definitely likes to cuddle somehow. doesn’t matter, as long as he’s nearly engulfing you.

sam.

- THIS. MAN.

- he’s so cute, are u kidding?

- first and foremost: he fucking loves kissing you. constantly.

- no matter what you’re doing, how your day started, what your mood is like, whatever: he’s coming up to kiss you on the lips.

- so sex w him will always begin in a heavy makeout session.

- not only is it fun, but he’s incredibly good at it.

- hand cupping your cheek, other around your waist. his lips move so softly and sensually, making you feel like glass under his fingertips.

- loves having you on his lap, feeling you up while distracting you.

- loves the feeling of you running your fingers through his hair, your nails digging into his scalp.

- he’s a sweetheart. all about your pleasure, and what you feeling like doing.

- “are you tired? want me to run a bath, baby?” he asks, tilting his head to the side and rubbing his thumb against your cheek.

- ngl, he kinda loves when you’re a little exhausted. he loves being able to pamper you.

- like, you immediately walk through the door sighing and throwing yourself onto the couch. he’s already giving you a kiss, and putting on his sweetest eyes to ask if you’re alright.

- he’s also a missionary fan. it’s sweet, it’s romantic. he likes looking at you during it.

- bbiiiiigggg fan of talking—although he isn’t really aware of it.

- “just like—oh my god, you’re gonna kill me.” “ngh, fuck baby…feels s’good.” “i’m gonna cum, cum with me please, pretty please?”

- he’s just talking, honestly. literally not a single cell in his brain is registering the pure porn spilling from his lips but you adore all of it.

- thank god (yoba) u live on a farm, cus he is one loud mf.

- actually whimpers when he comes. like he’s shaking, eyebrows pinching, MOANING.

- i forgot to mention but this mf LOVES hickeys. give him tons of hickeys and he’s all yours.

shane.

- a slut🤷‍♀️

- he’s had experience. like plenty of it, and despite those years of his life being behind him, he still knows what he’s doing.

- cups ur jaw while kissing you.

- may or may not spit in ur mouth once or twice. idk.

- doggystyle!!!!!!!!!!! lol

- something about the way your ass looks with your hair balled into his fist makes him literally such a mf slut.

- tugging you back so he can groan in your ear.

- “feels so fucking good. gonna cum f’me? yeah? g’na do that?”

- literally has you panting, with tears welling in your eyes.

- probably changes positions like five times per round. he just can’t decide which one you look better in.

- big fan of counter sex, or couch sex.

- looovvesss cowgirl.

- hands around your waist or your thighs, using minimal strength to help you bounce on his cock.

- he can’t stop watching the soft bounce of your tits, and the way your head hangs while you’re moaning.

- will absolutely bully into you if he thinks you’re going too slow, or if you get tired.

- cums inside of u (shocking).

- or on your back, depending on which position or if you want him to.

- tips his head back, his eyebrows pinching and he lets out a low groan while he finishes.

- takes him a solid like 3 mins to catch his breath.

- his aftercare consists of feeling you up, kissing you softly. he’ll almost always offer you a glass of water, but will absolutely pass out afterwards.

- he has enough stamina to give you multiple rounds, but once he’s finished he’s knocked out LMFAOO

sebastian.

- not super experienced.

- he’s not a virgin, but with how little he’s had sex, he’s still new to a lot of things.

- he’s a big fan of being guided. like, tell him what you want, what you like, and he’s on it🫡

- LOVES eating you out, especially when he’s doing it right and he gets to see your reactions.

- but he also loves when you go down on him.

- he becomes this little shell of himself, his face beat red and his hands trying to cover his flushed face. he’s gnawing on his lower lip, trying his best not to moan and whine but ofc it’s not working.

- once he’s too distracted to care what he looks like, his hands are immediately grabbing onto the sheets and pillows, literally anything nearby.

- the first time you ever gave him head…he came in 10 seconds.

- was so fucking embarrassed. literally still cringes when he thinks abt it.

- despite you reassuring him that it didn’t bother you at all, and you’re actually really flattered by it.

- but yeah, anyways,

- when it comes to fucking, he likes when you’re on top.

- so any form of cowgirl, he’s your guy.

- he’s not so much vocal as he is with just panting.

- like, he’s not going to talk to you, save for the occasional, “you feel so good,” but he’s absolutely not dead silent.

- mf is a whimperer. he gets so easily flustered, of course he’s hiding his face from your devious grin.

- he likes fingering you.

- he’s got long, thin, pale fingers that he doesn’t rly know what to do with, so when you help him out he’s all kinds of excited.

- will never forget when he made you cum on his fingers for the first time. literally gives him such an ego boost, especially when you praise him.

- now he makes fingering a never-forget step while having sex with you.

- aftercare is usually just cuddling after he forces u to pee cus u know ya’ll are strictly using the pull out method lmfao.

alex.

- he’s the kind of bf that smacks ur ass when ur walking past him.

- probably pretends to hit on you when he runs into u in public.

- like, “whoa, you’re cute. we should hangout sometime,” while ur literally getting groceries for the two of u to eat.

- i digress.

- he’s so mf affectionate. his hands are never leaving your waist if he’s anywhere near you.

- especially when you come in after finishing up work, and you feel all gross but he’s swooning from the sight of u.

- “hi, baby. how was work?”

- running his hands up your shirt and pressing kisses all along the side of your neck.

- aka (he’s horny).

- he’s gentle with you, especially if you’re tired and had a bad day. he’s just pressing his soft lips on your skin while you recap what made you so upset, nodding and humming along.

- “anything i can do to make you feel better?” and he doesn’t ask with ulterior motives, he does want you to feel better, but he’ll never say no if you want to have sex.

- if you’re exhausted, or tired but you still wanna do something—well he’s fingering u.

- will probably eat u out, but he’s making u cum on his fingers mostly.

- coaxes you through it.

- “mm, yeah i know, baby. just let it out.”

- haha.

- wall sex enthusiast.

- or even the mating press.

- just so he can show off his strength, his arms hooked underneath your legs while he fucks you sobbing.

- STAMINA!!!!!!!!!!

- this man can go for rounds after rounds after ROUNDSSS on end.

- you’re panting, catching your breath once he starts kissing you slowly again, and you’re back to whining.

- “c’mon sweetheart. i know you can do it. you can give me one more, right? just one?”

- such a little bastard i fear.

- his aftercare is just extensive amounts of praise, and kissing, and holding you. he’s asking if you need anything.

- falls asleep while keeping you caged against him.

elliot.

- vocal vocal vocal vocal vocal.

- sex with him is nothing but romantic.

- i’m talking holding hands, cupping your cheek, kissing your lips so passionately while he’s so extremely gentle.

- he’ll never be rough with you, i’m sorry. he’s just not that kind of guy.

- master at praise.

- “so beautiful, so fucking gorgeous i love you so much.” “feels so good my love, ‘m so close,”

- imagine him putting his hair into like a little bun and loose strands are just falling out, framing his face while he makes love to u.

- cus y’all know he’s not fucking u😭

- once again, we have a pussy eating connoisseur.

- tug on his hair while he’s going down on u. do it.

- his arms wrapped around your hips holding your legs still, face delved between your thighs for however long you need him to be / how long he wants to be.

- i’m here to tell you that if elliot’s had a bad day, he’s eating you out to make him feel better.

- doesn’t care what you were doing, if you haven’t showered yet, he literally doesn’t care.

- …missionary enthusiast too.

- i’m sorry but they all are 😓

- he’ll literally never degrade you. even if you want him to, i promise you he’ll try, but he just can’t.

- a firm believer that you should come at least two or three times before he does.

- loves to see you blissed out underneath him before he even thinks about cumming.

- his aftercare is so perfect. he’s getting you water, rubbing your sore muscles, running a bath if you need it.

- without a doubt cuddling. ofc.

[klausysworld]

you can write a raunchy one-shot for yandere klaus, where he was quiet at home thinking about his love, and out of nowhere he got a text from her telling him she knows about his obsession with her and asking him to come to her house to talk, and Klaus runs over to y/n's, only to find her on his bed in her lingerie and asking him to fuck her like a wild animal.

Not so secret obsession

Klaus was sat in his art room, looking over his paintings and pencil studies of his muse.

She truly was sculpted by goddesses. He imagined her to be one of Aphrodite’s descendents.

He took a sip of his bourbon as he leant back in his chair, he craved her attention so unbelievably much. He would do absolutely anything for this girl, whether it were mass murder or suicide, if she asked it of him then how could he deny her?

His fingertips fiddled with the lace material of her panties, they were plum purple in colour and soft to touch. They one of his favourites of her things. He can still remember when he saw her buy them, when she went into the dressing room to try them on. He was nearly caught that day but it was worth his rime and near exposure when he was able to obtain said panties mere seconds after she had worn them.

Just as he went to unzip his trousers, his phone pinged from a very familiar number.

One he had memorised in the first 5 seconds of seeing.

Y/n.

He opening it immediately, putting his drink and the underwear aside and sitting up straighter in his seat.

I know your little secret

He read. His eyes narrowed at the screen and waited for the three dots at the bottom to form a message

How you watch me when you think I don’t know.

He swallowed thickly but didn’t reply, he took a nervous gulp of his drink and watched his phone intently

I’m not upset about it, maybe you could come over and we can talk about everything?

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t suspicious of her words. Perhaps this was another plot to try and fail to kill him.

But at the same time, she was inviting him over to her house, it would be incredibly stupid on his behalf if he passed up such an opportunity.

I’ll be there in 5.

He sent before flashing to his room.

He fixed his hair and made sure he smelt strongly of his cologne, his shirt was a tad too tight but he wanted it that way. In under 30 seconds he had sorted himself out and gotten into his car where he practically inhaled a dozen mints in the fear she would be able to taste the blood on his tongue from earlier that day.

Just as he pulled up, he received another message

Just come straight in

And he didn’t hesitate.

He sped straight up the stairs to where he could hear her heartbeat, her bedroom.

A wetted his lips as he turned the handle and opened the only thing now between them.

The open door revealed a sight that would surely never leave his mind.

Seeing her in only a black lingerie set with stockings pulled right the way up her thighs. Her legs spread, one hand on cupping her breast through the lace while the other had dipped just below the panties.

He slowly, cautiously made his way over to her. His eyes locked on hers as she moaned softly, her hips thrusting upward with her hand as she pulled her fingers away from her slippery cunt and to her mouth, sucking them clean.

“My love…” he breathed, his hand slowly moving to squeeze one of her breasts when he realised she wouldn’t push him away.

“I want you Klaus” she whispered “I want you to show what an all powerful hybrid can do” she purred, her hand lifting his shirt to trail across his abs.

“That’s a dangerous thing to ask for” he uttered, there was no fucking way this was actually happening. Klaus was 90% sure he was in his own head.

But when her mouth wrapped around his fingers and she brought them to her bare pussy, it had never felt more real.

His throat felt dry as he rubbed her precious little clit. He tore the scrap of fabric from her quickly to give him a better view while his other hand kneaded at her breast.

Her loud moan had his head turning to her, her teeth were biting at her bottom lip as she watched his hand between her legs. He moved his finger faster circular motions, she let out a hot breath and leant further forward on her elbows.

He brought his fingers away from her, his pride growing when she whined and reached for his hand

“Don’t stop” she whispered but he ignored her and licked his fingers hungrily.

The hand from her breasts moved to her neck, pulling her up onto her knees so her face was right in his chest before he forced her head back and pushed his lips to hers with need. Her little gasp into his mouth was enough for his tongue to get inside hers. His arm circled her and pushed her straight against him. His hand grabbed at her ass harshly, her tongue fought against his, her lack of submission was an issue for him. So his hand pulled at her hair hard, he relished in her pain filled whimper and took the opportunity to claim his dominance over her mouth.

Her hands pushed at his chest making the kiss break much to his dismay. Her eyes looked up to his as his hand trailed up and down her stocking clad legs.

“Do you like them?” She asked, a teasing edge to her tone. “You add them to your collection” she whispered lowly making his eyes darken.

“How long have you known?” His voice was gravelly, and it made her walls flutter.

“Just a couple weeks…you really do love me” she murmured, her hand on his bare chest after she managed to get his shirt over his head. “I saw you…when I was touching myself, you really do enjoy it don’t you?” She whispered, his breathing grew heavier as her hand rubbed him through his trousers. “I got to see this once” she told him, her fingers unzipping his pants and popping the button “Just couldn’t help yourself could you?” She whispered, she palmed him through his boxers with doe eyes staring up at him. “Normally you don’t wear these…or is that just for when you come to see me? Want to be ready to feel yourself up while you watch my fingers touch myself”

He hissed as the cool air surrounded his hardened dick as she peeled his boxers down his legs.

“You are something else” he muttered down at her, his eyes eagerly watching as she lusted over his size. His hand got ahold of her jaw firmly and pulled her further down so her lips ghosted his tip. “Don’t be a tease” he warned, his hand tightening around her face, his fingers squeezing her cheeks.

“Is this one your fantasies?” she whispers, her eyes dark as she gazed up at him. The low rumble he emitted only turned her on more. “Do you think about this before you go to sleep? Do you dream about my lips on your cock” she purred

“In my dreams yours much more compliant, docile.” he growls before grabbing his dick and pushing it into her mouth, a sigh leaving his lips when she immediately began to suck. His hand moved round to the back of her head, bunching up her hair in his grip and pushing her head back and forth at a slow rhythm. “That’s a good girl” he breathed, his other hand stroked the base of his cock tenderly. “Something tells be you’ll be in this position much more than I originally thought hm?” She hummed in response making his hips jerk and her to choke on his head

“Look at you,” he whispered “drooling all over me” he chuckled quietly, the hand on his dick moved to grab hers and brought it to his balls where her salvia had dripped to, making her fondle them in her hand. She moaned around him and bobbed her head a little faster. He pulled her head back for her mouth to concentrate on his tip, her tongue swirling round it as she whimpered, her eyes on his making him groan.

He pulled her by her hair and off of his cock, he stroked himself a few more times to even out his breathing. He could feel her head tugging against his hand to have him back in her mouth but he kept her still in both interest and amusement. He wanted her to submit to him.

“Don’t you want to cum in my mouth” she teased but the underlying need was there in her tone. He tilted his head and smirked at her

“Why would I do that when I have your whole body to fill up” he hummed and her face flushed red. His eyes earned a certain twinkle to them as he stroked her chin, seeing her mouth open and close trying to find words to respond but he shushed her before she could.

He bent down and pressed his lips to hers, softer this time to begin with but he couldn’t control himself long enough for the kiss to be sweet, instead he only became hungrier especially now his dick was throbbing now he had felt her pretty lips around it.

His hands pushed her down onto the mattress and his body crawled on top of hers but before he could get his hand to her leg, she had rolled them over so she was above him. Her hands pinning his above his head and her mouth moving to his neck forcing an involuntary moan from him as her bare pussy rubbed against his cock.

His hips bucked up, his tip hitting against her clit making her moan out and pull away from the kiss. Which gave him the opportunity to push her back under him. He held her, face down on her stomach, her hands trying to push herself up but the pressure on her back was too much

“For someone who wanted me to show you the hybrid…to be animalistic…you sure are disobedient” he muttered while his fingers unclipped her bra and pulled her arms out of the straps so he could toss it away.

He moved to sit at the backs of her thighs, his hand still pushing her down as he stroked his dick to the sight of her bare ass. She could hear his heavy breaths as he rubbed himself, it took everything she had to lift her hips against his hold, pressing her behind to his front. His hand met here arse in a harsh slap before her legs were pushed apart, she let out a squeak as his cock slipped through her folds to her entrance.

“Raise your ass again and I’ll bury myself inside it” he whispered lowly and she moaned loudly in response

“I assure you, I would have no complaints” she practically purred, his pupils dilated further as the image of her stuffed with his cock in her ass and fingers in her cunt.

His hand pressed down on the back of her neck as his other continued to rub himself slowly as he directed her tip toward the source of her wetness. His hips rocked allowing her lips to soak him before pushing inside her with a groan. So many restless nights spent contemplating this moment, he expected to be waiting months if not over a year and now here hear was with her begging to be fucked.

His grip on her neck got firmer as his eyes struggled to remain open and her needy little cunt swallowed him in. He could hear her whore like moans clearly despite her face smushed against her bed.

His other veined hand squeezed her plump ass tenderly as his hips rolled beautifully. Her teeth cling to her bottom lip as she felt him slowly slide in and out of her, her soft walls so tight around him that she could feel every pulsing vein on his dick. Her mind felt hazy, her hands holding onto her sheets as though it were impossible to let go as he stretched her to her capacity.

Both hands moved in opposite directions to slip along her back, he got ahold of the areas between her neck and shoulders and squeeze lightly. Once happy with his grip, he smirked to himself and brought his hips back far so that only his tip wait at her entrance before shoving himself right inside. He relished in the loud gasp followed by a mix of pain and pleasure filled moan she released, her body tensing and relaxing around him.

Her eyes grew wider as he continued with the same technique, sheaving himself back in her each time and leaving her breathless. “Much better sweetheart” he murmured as she lay completely at his mercy. She whimpered beneath him as his pace grew faster and he rubbed the side of her neck with his thumb “good girl” he whispered to her and grunting when she tightened around him in response.

His thrusts quickened and he groaned loudly, his head fell forward and his lips remained parted as his body mindlessly fucked into her roughly. His eyes shone a rich gold as his lids opened lazily. He could feel her skin bruising underneath his hands from how hard he was gripping her, he could hear the bed creaking and the harsh slap of his balls against her sopping cunt.

Her cries were one of the most pleasant sounds he had ever heard as they rang throughout the room without a pause in breath. Her little pussy squeezed him deliciously, her grip on him so tight that her hips moved back and forth with his. He chuckled to himself before holding her still, smacking her arse harshly earning a exasperated whine from her swollen lips as he carried on roughly pounding into her.

His hand slipped down her thigh, pulling her lace stocking higher up and groaning as her hips lifted and she pushed herself up onto her knees though her face was still helplessly panting against the sheets. Her back arched perfectly to have his cock ram right into her cervix. Her mouth fell open at the sensation that covered his sensitive tip and his hips began to snap to hers supernaturally fast.

He could so clearly hear how soaked she was as he slid back and forth, could hear her clit pulse and the desire to choke her so hard she couldn’t stop herself from letting go around him was too high not to.

His large veined hand slid up to the back of her neck, smoothing round the skin to get a grip around her throat so that a silent scream scratched at her vocal cords. He pulled her back to her chest, her ear just above his lips as he breathed hot and heavy breaths against her skin.

No noise was able to leave her as she closed around his dick, a flow of her pleasure gushing down him as her eyes rolled back and he entirely cut of her air flow.

“Oh you liked that didn’t you sweetheart?” He laughed through breaths as he continued to harshly fuck into her. And when his hand dropped down between her legs to toy with her red puffy clit, she could’ve cum right away. He let go of her neck, allowing a shouted version of “oh my fucking god” to fill the room as her head threw back against his shoulder.

He turned his head to see her mouth hung open and panting ragged breaths. It felt as though his cock were swelling all that much more when he shoved his mouth onto hers, both moaning into each other as he licked the inside of her cheek. He just knew if he spat in her mouth she would whimper like a good slut and swallow.

She struggled to comprehend the intensity of the pleasure that coursed through her every atom. Her mouth was barely able to move against his eager lips as her moans and whines were muffled and absorbed.

He pulled away to look down, his eyes soaking up the sight of her bounding tits and his hips rutting somehow faster. Both hands moved to lift her legs from the backs of her knees, holding them up against her sides as she screamed out as she pressed a hand to her abdomen where the outline of his cock rammed in and out of.

“I’m gonna fuck you so many ways” he drawled as he felt her squeeze him impossibly tight “bend you over every possible surface and when we run out I’ll just fuck you in the air” he whispered into her ear, feeling her tremble and shake in his hands.

She choked on her own breathing as his fingertips dig into her thighs as he stuttered in his brutal pace. He let out a long groan as his hips froze in place and thick ropes of cum flooded her. He held her in place as she let out a series of cries and her hands grabbed ahold of his wrists for support as she felt herself fill beyond capacity.

Her lips parted and her eyes widened as his hand dropped one of her legs and rubbed her belly as he pumped her so full of his cum that she had swelled with it. He mumbled incoherently as he kissed the base of her neck and pulled himself out of her. He helped lay her down, his hand moving to cup her cunt in an attempt to keep his load inside her.

Her head hit the pillow behind her with a soft moan as her hand moved to her stomach “gonna have my babies” he murmured while kissing her shoulder and then along her arm. “so many babies” he repeated as he moved back to her neck and nipped along the skin.

“Oh god” she whispered and he hummed

“Never ever letting you go now sweetheart. You’re all mine” he purred before burying his teeth into her neck, imprinting his mark on her forever.

(I quite like this one im ngl)

[sapphicmsmarvel]

cassian x reader: dating a high maintenance girlie

Hello, if this seems extra its cause it is but this is quite literally my high maintenance routine. This is just one of my favorite parts of life and I love the idea of these big burly men doing skincare with their girls. 

i’m a high maintenance girly bc i like to be. pls this isn’t a pick me bullshit type thing. Im a girls girl yall. 

-This man doesn’t know shit about self care. 

-He knows the basics but like, nothing that would genuinely make him feel comfy in his own skin even more than he already is. 

-He uses 3-in-1. Technically 4-in-1 because face wash is separate formula than body wash but you digress. 

-Y'all know that stereotype of a guy glowing up after getting a girlfriend? You guys were the blueprint for that. 

-You taught him his hair type (2A), his skin type (dry), his preferred scent profile for himself (spicy, woody, aromatic). What his favorite types of care products are, he loves leave-in conditioner, cream cleansers. He’s not a fan of super heavy moisturizers because he’ll get overstimulated.

-These are just things this man has never thought about. 

-When you two leave the house for a Court Duty, you end up doing Cassian's hair. He wants to look nice, for lots of reasons, but especially because he wants to be let back into Summer. He wants to be able to take you on Summer Court dates! 

-He lives for that sliver of time you’re able to squeeze in before going somewhere. You doing his hair, him staring at you in the mirror if you’re behind him. If you’re in front of him, his large hands on your plush hips as you bite your lip in concentration trying to make his wild hair look nice. The feeling of your fingers through his scalp and how even when there’s a knot, you never tug or pull hard enough that it hurts him. You’re gentle and sweet with him even when he thinks he doesn’t deserve it (spoiler: he always deserves it) 

-He loves how high maintenance you are, it helps him remember to take care of himself. 

-You do a little self care sunday reset type of thing. It helps you get ready for the week. 

-He finds these routines utterly fascinating. 

-He begs to watch you do them, not even in the dirty way but it's just so interesting to watch. You also banned him from getting frisky when you do the routines. This was your time, he was welcome to watch but he would step out if you asked because you needed to be alone. 

-Some days, your routines are a bit more intense, such as the monthly waxing for your legs and armpits. Coochie too. 

-He flinches every single time he watches you wax some part of you, especially the coochie. He kind of has an attachment to that part. 

-You do the whole shabang sometimes. Wax legs, armpits, etc. Exfoliating shampoo, regular shampoo, conditioning mask, conditioner. Then the body stuff, exfoliating, shaving any parts you didn’t want to wax, double cleansing your body with antibacterial then the fun scented stuff. Then when you’re out of the bath, face extractions, face wash, whatever else you want to add. And then body creams. Then you’re done. 

-He’s just amazed every single time. 

-He also loves that you make a little thing out of it. You make it fun for you. There's a whole closet filled with different scents, treatments, formulas, etc. 

-You always smell good. There are deodorants shoved in every single bag you own, every room for that matter. Massive perfume, bodycare, candle, anything that makes a room or you smell good, you have it. 

-Even going to bed, you put perfume on.

-He loves that you say “I only wear it for myself Cass, it’s just a bonus that you love it.” Because he knows it’s true. 

-Sometimes he goes in just to sniff around. The fool just stands there and sniffs stuff. You had no idea why he decided to sit in the closet and sniff things in the dark. However, you did know that when you opened the door to see a nearly 7 foot tall clown smelling your beloved collection, you screamed bloody murder. 

So loud Azriel came running with his knives. Cassian just looked at you like “what’s your deal bro?” 

You were trained by two of the most powerful warriors, yet your first reaction was to scream. 

“Why didn’t you try to fight me?” Cassian asked, “I’ve seen you kick someone down for less.” 

“I am in my bathrobe Cassian! You want me swinging my legs around with my flaps out?” 

Azriel chose to leave the room after that. 

-You also always have perfectly manicured nails. And somehow someway you taught your tricks to the Valkyries so now they are able to have beautiful nails while still disemboweling enemies. 

-Great, now he and Az have four she-devils with perfectly manicured nails and glossy hair that can slay their enemies with one swipe. The four of you were feral together. He wouldn’t be surprised if he walked into the camps one day to see some guys dead because they were sexist. 

-You also got him and Az roped into these skincare nights. 

-He loves sitting there with a face mask on and you using one of your crystal rollers rolling it onto his skin. Bougie bitch eats it up. 

-One of your favorite things to do is wear a sheet mask and hide in a closet.  Scares him every single time. 

-Your stuff is everywhere, you’d be damned if you were uncomfy in your own home. After talking to Cassian and Azriel to make sure you weren’t being a shitty roommate, you kind of went crazy. 

-Lip balms in every room, hand creams, candles. Hair ties and claw clips. Fuzzy blankets stashed in every trunk you could find. 

-Rhys made fun of it, but ate his words pretty quickly when Feyre saw the beauty of having lip balms and hair ties/claw clips stashed everywhere. (and he later found the joys of said products and gave you a gift basket as an apology….you didn’t even remember that he judged you because you simply didn’t care).

-Also, the guys live in fucking luxury. The home always smells good, they never have to worry about chapped lips or dry skin. Or pesky hair in the way. Anywhere they want is a blanket or cute pillow to prop their heads up. 

-they were living like animals until you showed up.

-Cassian having a mate is the best thing to ever happen to Az. 

-Feyre, Nesta, Elain, Emerie, Gwyn, Morrigan and even Amren shop your stash of body care if they wanna smell a certain way for a certain fun time (wink). 

-Even Nuala and Cerridwen will approach and ask you. Obviously you say yes. You own so much you’ll never get through everything in time. 

-Plus you’re a Girls Girl. You’re gonna be there for your girls in your life.

-Speaking of the ladies in your life. 

-When you and Cassian have twin baby girls, you were ecstatic. Either way you were going to be happy but you always wanted a girl and now you have two!

-Teaching them how to take care of their skin and hair has been the best for you and Cassian. He loves watching his girls play with their hair. He loves having his hair braided by them. 

-Family self care nights become a Thing (that sometimes an Uncle or Aunt will join).

-He loves you because you taught him how to actually care for himself and his mental health. You showed him how he needs to stop and appreciate the smaller things. That not everything has to be a chore. 

-He loves you more than anything, maintenance and all.

[munson-blurbs]

Hi darling sister wife! I have a request for a bookworm!reader who always has her nose in a book and has a huge crush on Eddie, but thinks he doesn’t even know she’s alive. And maybe they run into each other somewhere in town and he’s like “oh hey y/n!” and she’s dumbfounded lol

Love youuuuu - @corroded-hellfire

Anything for you, bb 💚

Warnings: none, all fluff <3

WC: 3.8 k

--

There’s a lump in your throat as you approach the wooden door marked “DETENTION” in scolding letters. You’ve never been in trouble before, always keeping your head down and doing the right thing. 

But that was before you’d started reading The Handmaid’s Tale. You’d picked up the novel in the school library that morning, curious to see what all of the fuss was about. It was so gripping, so eerie, so chilling, that you didn’t want to put it down. And so you didn’t—you read it in the halls when walking between classes, during lunch as your friends talked about their prom dresses, even faking cramps during PE so you could sit on the bleachers and continue devouring Margaret Atwood’s words. None of that posed any issues. 

You were nearly finished with the entire book by the time last period rolled around. Mrs. Click was droning on and on about the Enlightenment and its influence on European culture. It wasn’t anything the textbook didn’t already explain. How bad would it be to quickly read the final chapter in an incredible book while she yammered about a continent you didn’t even live on?

As you soon discovered, it would be pretty bad. Mrs. Click marched over to you as you tried to hunch down inconspicuously. She plucked the book from your hands and frowned. “Tell me, Ms. Y/L/N,” she’d snapped, never breaking eye contact with you, “what makes you so special that you can select your own reading material during my class?”

You could only shake your head, heat rising in your cheeks. “‘M sorry, Mrs. Click,” you mumble. Other students snicker around you, and you hear someone whisper, “what a nerd.”

“Well,” your teacher starts, placing The Handmaid’s Tale on her already-cluttered desk, “maybe you can come up with a better answer after detention this afternoon.” You nodded dumbly, too humiliated to protest the punishment. 

The worst part? She never even gave you back the book. 

Fingers trembling, you push the door open and take a seat all the way in the back. You’re the only one there; maybe you can avoid any further embarrassment if it stays that way. You take out your math textbook and start on the first problem, barely able to concentrate. Detention. It shouldn’t be such a big deal, but you hate getting in trouble. Hate having people mad at you, even if that person is your uppity history teacher. It’s why you’re such a goody two-shoes, a people pleaser; you just want everything to be peaceful. 

“Honey, I’m home!” a familiar voice calls out. Your head snaps up to see Eddie Munson burst through the doorway. There’s a loose cigarette tucked behind his ear, almost completely covered by his mess of curly hair. His grin widens as he spots you. “Hey, Y/N! What brings you to my home away from home?”

Your mouth goes dry. Eddie Munson knows who you are? The handsome, charismatic, sometimes scary-seeming metalhead knows your name? You clear your throat when you realize he’s staring at you expectantly, waiting for a response. “Oh, um, nothing. Jus’ something stupid,” you manage, picking at your fingernails anxiously. 

“Yeah, well, I’m the king of doing stupid things, so, lay it on me.” He sits on top of the desk in front of you, leaning his forearms on his thighs. 

The blush creeps back up through your body. “I got busted in Click’s class for reading.”

Eddie furrows his brows in confusion. “Reading what?” he questions. “Like, a nudie magazine or somethin’? That happened to me once, and Click was pissed. Never did get that magazine back either. What a shame.” He tuts gently at the memory. 

“God, no!” You shake your head. “It was a book I was reading for fun. And not that kind of fun,” you add pointedly. “It was, um, The Handmaid’s Tale? The novel by Margaret Atwood?” It comes out as a question, and you could smack yourself for your timid disposition. “It’s about a group of women—the handmaids—who are essentially forced to be these birthing machines for their owners. Their entire worth is based on making healthy babies. And if they try to escape, the men of Gilead will hurt them.” Shut up, you scold yourself silently. He didn’t ask you for a damn book report. 

But Eddie looks intrigued. “Well, that’s no Playboy, but it sounds really good. I’ll have to read it when you’re done.”

“That might not be for awhile,” you reply somberly. “Much like your Playboy, my book has been confiscated, unlikely to ever be returned.”

Eddie smacks his palms on his knees, startling you, but he pays this no mind. “I’ll be right back,” he says. “If Higgins comes in, tell him I had to take a leak.” And with that, he’s out the door. 

What is going on? You thrum your fingers against the desk, considering your circumstances. You’re in detention with Eddie Munson, having a conversation about The Handmaid’s Tale. Never in your wildest dreams did you think this would happen. 

Eddie returns triumphantly. “Ta-da!” he exclaims, holding up the novel in his left hand. He places it on your desk and smiles. “Now you can finish it.”

“My hero,” you put your hand over your heart and grin back at him. Butterflies flutter in your stomach. “Like the Robin Hood of books.”

“Robin Hood, huh?” he smirks, sliding into the chair next to yours, “I’ll take it. Better nickname than ‘The Freak,’ anyway.”

You frown, averting your gaze as you say softly, “I never called you that. And I never thought you were a freak, either.”

“‘Course not,” Eddie chuckles, nudging you with his shoulder. “‘Cause you’re a freak, too.” He laughs harder when you scoff. “C’mon, Y/N. Who else gets detention for reading?”

“Fair enough,” you concede. “Why are you here?”

“Besides this basically being my permanent residency? Um, I got caught cutting class? Or smoking in the bathroom? Or maybe it was because I flipped off Jason Carver in the cafeteria? I can’t remember what this one was, honestly. They all just kinda…blur together.” He waves his hand nonchalantly. 

“One more question,” you start. “How do you, um, how do you know my name?” You took all honors and Advanced Placement classes, and Eddie…well, he certainly did not. 

He gives you an astonished look. “You really don’t remember?” He continues when you shake your head bashfully. “You interviewed Corroded Coffin for the school newspaper last year! I invited you to come to the Hideout and see us in action, but you never showed.”

“Oh, yeah.” It comes back to you now. You’d been all dressed and ready to go, but your mom went ballistic at the thought of you in a dive bar. “I tried, but my parents are really strict.”

“So then don’t tell them!” Eddie says simply. “Just say you’re going to the library or something.”

“At 10 pm?” you raise your eyebrows. “If this is your idea of being clever, it’s no wonder you keep failing senior year!”

His jaw drops at your teasing. “And here I thought you were nice. Y’know what?” He scrunches up his face and eyes your desk. “I’m takin’ my book back!” And with that, he swipes it and clutches it to his chest. 

“Eddie!” you shriek, giggling as you grab at the paperback, only to have him jerk away in response. “Stop!”

“Hmm…nope!” Eddie shakes his head, unruly curls brushing his cheeks. “This is a lot more fun for me.” He stands up and holds the book above his head. 

You jump up a few times to try and snatch it back, to no avail. As a last resort, you jut out your lower lip in a pout. “Please?”

He uses his free hand to tap his finger on his chin. “What’s the magic phrase?” 

“What?”

“Fine, I’ll help you out,” he sighs, feigning exasperation. “It’s ‘Eddie Munson is the smartest, most handsome man in the world.’”

You begrudgingly repeat the sentence, grumbling it under your breath. But Eddie still doesn’t hand over the book. “I said it!” you groan. “You gotta give it back!”

“Oh, did I forget to mention part two?” There’s a mischievous glint in his deep brown eyes. “Now you have to say, ‘And because I heartlessly ditched his concert last year, I will make it up to him by letting him take me out tonight.”

“Me?” You can’t hide the shock in your voice. “Are you joking?” Why would Eddie Munson want to take a shy little bookworm out? He probably had outgoing, boisterous girls fawning all over him at his shows. Girls who didn’t care whether or not they got mommy and daddy’s permission to go to a bar. 

“‘M dead serious, sweetheart.” Eddie gives you a soft smile. “Don’t say anything, because it’ll totally ruin my reputation as Hawkins’ evil cult leader, but I also love to read.” He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a tattered copy of The Hobbit. “This one is my absolute favorite. I re-read it, like, once a month.”

“I should’ve known you were a nerd,” you muse, looking up at him through your lashes innocently. “Honestly, the whole Dungeons & Dragons thing should’ve given it away.”

Eddie gently bops you on the head with his book. “So, whaddya say to that date?” He’s trying to sound confident, but you catch him nervously playing with the rings that adorn his fingers. 

“I’d love to,” you answer honestly, heart fluttering as he takes your hand in his. 

“Great! Let’s go!” He tugs you out of your seat, but you shift your weight so you sink back down. He looks at you, puzzled. 

“We can’t just leave!” you gesture to the detention room. “I don’t wanna get in more trouble.” The last thing you need is another round of Click-induced humiliation. 

“Why not?” Eddie asks. “No one comes in here. I usually just use this time to work on my lyrics, even though I’m supposed to think about what I’ve done.” He lowers his voice an octave and wiggles his fingers at the last part, making you giggle. 

“You’re a bad influence, Eddie Munson,” you say, but you oblige. You tip-toe behind him, keeping a watchful eye out for straggling teachers or—God forbid—Principal Higgins. Eddie doesn’t let go of your hand until you reach his van, opening the passenger side door with a quick bow. 

“Ladies first,” he grins, shuffling to the driver’s side and starting the car. It backfires at first, startling you, but he gets the engine to turn over on the second try. “Sorry, my Jaguar is in the shop.”

“Of course,” you reply in a posh accent. “They just don’t make cars the way they used to.” You lean over to turn the radio dial, spinning past Eddie’s favorite station and straight for your own. Stevie Nicks’s voice wafts from the speakers as a Fleetwood Mac song plays. 

“You’re really lucky you’re cute,” he tells you, flashing his signature smirk, “or I’d be totally pissed that you changed Ozzy for this.” If he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t think that you could do anything to anger him. You watch as his strong hand grips the gearshift, throwing the van in reverse. He reaches behind your seat as he backs up, tongue poking out in concentration. 

You can’t stop the smile that blossoms on your face at the compliment. Eddie Munson thinks I’m cute. The thought buzzes through your body like a hyperactive bumblebee. You try to push it away, mumbling, “Where are we going?”

“D’you trust me?” He threads his fingers through yours, and you feel yourself heat up despite the coolness of his metal rings. 

“Not in the slightest,” you tease him again, offering your sweetest smile. “After all, the last time you did something nice for me, it ended with you holding my book hostage. Which you still have, by the way.” 

Eddie squeezes your hand affectionately. “Fair enough.” But he doesn’t give you any further information, just sings along with the radio despite his initial protests. It’s melodic and relaxing, and you find yourself staring at the way his soft lips move as he recites the lyrics and uses his forefinger to keep the tempo against the steering wheel. “Okay, y’caught me.” He breathes out a small laugh. “I kinda like their stuff. I mean, I wouldn’t spend money for their concerts, but I don’t mind it if there’s nothing else on. Or if a pretty girl wants to listen to them.” This time, he notices the way you hide behind your hair at his words. “C’mon now; don’t get all shy just because someone called you ‘pretty.’”

But he’s not someone; he’s Eddie. He’s the guy you’ve had a crush on for far too long, and he stole your book back from Mrs. Click, asked you on a date, snuck you out of detention, held your hand, and complimented you repeatedly—all within the span of thirty minutes. 

“I was really upset earlier about getting detention,” you confess, steering the conversation away from your timidness and relentless crush on Eddie. “But you cheered me up and, um, that meant a lot to me.”

“Glad I could be of service,” he says, tipping an invisible hat. “But take it from me—detention isn’t the end of the world. Especially since you rarely ever get it.”

“Never,” you correct him. 

“Huh?”

“I’ve never gotten detention. Until today.” You feel childish admitting it. Senior year of high school and this is the only time you broke the rules—and in such a geeky way, too. 

“Well, it was an honor to witness you pop your detention cherry.” The phrasing makes you burst out with laughter, and you clap your free hand over your mouth. “Don’t do that,” he says softly, letting go of the hand he’s holding to nudge the one that’s pressed to your lips. “You have a nice laugh.” He pulls into a parking lot, finding the nearest spot before killing the engine. 

“No way,” you whisper, gazing at the building. You’d figured he would take you out for pizza or s movie, but this is even better. “Eddie, did you bring me to a bookstore?” 

He nods proudly. “This one has a little café inside, if you want a coffee or something.” He takes your hand again as you both stride towards the shop. “Pick out a book—it’s on me. Paperback, hardcover—whatever you want.”

“Hardcover? You really know how to spoil a girl, Munson.” Your tone is joking, but there’s truth to it. You normally only splurge for hardcover books when you have a gift card. You peruse the aisles, trying to quickly scan the spines for something that catches your eye. It wouldn’t be out of character for you to spend hours searching for the perfect book, but you didn’t want to drag Eddie along on a boring date. 

“Let me grab us something to drink,” Eddie says as you start towards the ‘thrillers’ section. “How do you take your coffee?” You give him your order and promise to meet him by the café in a few minutes. “No rush,” he assures you, and he kisses your cheek quickly before ducking away and heading for the barista. 

There’s a whole display dedicated to Stephen King, and you check out the offerings before settling on Firestarter. You’ve been meaning to read it, and now is the perfect chance to snatch it up. Before you go to the café, you wander over to the fantasy section. If Eddie likes Lord of the Rings, you’re sure to find another book he’ll enjoy here. Anne Rice’s Interview with a Vampire stands out; it’s dark and gothic and seems perfect for him. Pulling off the shelf, you make a stop at the cash register before joining him at the café. At a quick glance, you can see he’s chatting with the barista, so you sneakily pay for your gift to him, promising the cashier that you’ll be back to pay for Firestarter. He doesn’t seem too worried, and you flounce over to your date with a wide smile. 

Eddie’s sitting at a table for two. There’s a steaming cup of coffee in front of each place setting, with a slice of chocolate cake and two plastic forks in the center. “Figured we could use something sweet,” he says nonchalantly, as though he didn’t just have a small panic attack trying to decide between flavors. His brows furrow when he notices the bag in your hand. “Hey, I said I was treating you to a book!” he whines. 

“Don’t worry, I have my choice right here,” you tell him, flashing the paperback. “This is from me to you.” 

He takes the bag curiously, sticking his hand in without looking. The tip of his tongue brushes against his upper lip, much like it did in the van, as he dramatically rifles through, conveniently ignoring the fact that there’s only one item in there. After a solid ten seconds of that, he fishes out the book. 

“Have you read it? Like, do you already own it? Because I can return it right there,” you blabber, motioning to where the bored cashier is twiddling his thumbs, “if you don’t want it. And you can pick out something else.”

“Hey, hey,” Eddie says softly, cupping your chin with his left hand. “I love it, okay? I haven’t read it yet, but I want to.” He plops down on the chair as you slide into yours, relieved. “In fact, maybe I’ll read it right now.” He opens to the first page, and you giggle as his eyes scan the words. “Oh, I’m being rude, aren’t I?” He fakes innocence, making you laugh harder. “My apologies. I’ll read aloud so you can listen.” He starts speaking in his deep, dramatic Dungeon Master voice. Although he’s trying to be silly, there’s something comforting about having him read to you. You almost don’t want him to stop, sipping from your mug and drinking in the sound of him. 

He slams the book shut and gently places it back in the bag. “So, besides read and piss off Click, what do you like to do for fun?” he asks, digging his fork into the cake slice and taking a bite. “Holy shit, this is delicious.”

You take another swallow of coffee. There’s still a hint of bitterness to it, just the way you like it. “I write for the school newspaper. Mostly just reporting on school events, student council budget reports…” 

“And entertainment?” Eddie finishes. 

“Huh?”

“Writing the entertainment section? Isn’t that why you interviewed us last year?” he adds, pushing the cake towards you as an invitation. You oblige, answering his question before eating. 

“Oh,” you mumble, keeping your gaze trained on the confection. “I don’t normally do that, but I asked Nancy if I could cover it that week.”

“Oh?” He’s intrigued, and you’re grateful for the mouthful of cake when he follows up with, “And why is that?”

You chew carefully, probably more times than necessary while you consider your response. Fuck it; we’re already on a date. “Kinda had a crush on their lead guitarist-slash-vocalist,” you say shyly, “and I always wanted to talk to him but couldn’t work up the courage to do it, like, normally.”

Eddie crosses his arms and leans back, smiling proudly. “So you hid behind the guise of your work to flirt with me?” He lets out a soft whistle. “And here I thought you had journalistic integrity.” He puts his hand over yours once again, rubbing his thumb over it rhythmically. “S’okay, because I totally have a crush on this reporter.”

“Fred Benson?” you joke. 

Pouting, Eddie pulls the slice of cake directly in front of him. “Y’know what? You’ve lost your dessert privileges for being such a mean date.” To emphasize his point, he takes a giant bite while glaring at you. Chocolate frosting smears on his lips. “Do I have something on my face?” he asks when he catches you staring at his mouth. 

“Actually, yes.” You start to lean over with a paper napkin in hand, but decide against it, bringing your lips to his. He tastes like sugar from the cake, burnt caramel from the coffee, and clove from his cigarettes, and your stomach flip-flops when he brings his hand to your cheek and deepens the kiss. “Mmm, my favorite,” you manage when you break away. 

“What? Me or the chocolate?” Eddie asks, eyes blown wide just from a simple kiss. 

You smile, biting your lower lip. “Right now? The cake, because you still haven’t given me back the book you stole in detention.”

He throws his head back and sighs. “But if I don’t hold your book hostage, how can I secure that second date?”

You brush a lock of hair out of his face. “What if I told you that you already have?” He looks genuinely astonished, so you elaborate. “Eddie, this is the best date I’ve ever had. I can’t think of the last time I was this happy.”

The handsome metalhead reaches into his worn backpack and takes out the book. “You probably already figured this out, but flattery works with me, so…” 

You grab it victoriously. “Thank you,” you chirp, stowing it away before he can take it back. Eddie grins at you, just enjoying being in your company. 

“I kinda have a little confession of my own,” he says quietly. You pinch your eyebrows together in confusion. “I, um, I didn’t have detention today.” 

“Then why—” 

“Saw you sitting there alone, and I wanted to talk to you. I keep lookin’ for you in the cafeteria so I can ask you to eat with us, but I never see you.” 

You clear your throat. “Yeah, I-I like to eat in the library. It’s quieter there.” And you don’t have to deal with Jason Carver and his posse picking on you, but you withhold that information. 

Eddie looks at you inquisitively. “I thought you couldn’t eat in the library.” He raises his brows. “You little rebel. Sneaking food in the library, reading for fun during class…” He trails off and chuckles. “You’re always welcome at our table. I’d really like it if you sat with us, actually.” 

“Okay,” you agree easily. “I’d really like that, too.” You kiss him again and again, stopping only to indulge in coffee or cake. 

Maybe getting detention isn’t so bad, after all. 

--

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Gyutaro General Profile

Yandere! Gyutaro x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, violence, mentions of non-con, mentions of masturbation, nonconsensual touching, semi graphic descriptions of violence, murder, mentions of catcalling and objectification (not by our lovely disturbed Gyutaro), poor nutrition, descriptions of Gyutaro consuming human flesh, lack of vitamin D in the underground lair, Gyutaro is cripplingly insecure and it shows, threats of violence against you, yelling, deragatory language, Stockholm Syndrome, mentions of reader being non-traditionally pretty, 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: 11K

DARLING PROFILE:

Motherly 

The feelings he holds for his darling are, of course, not platonic, but there’s a part of him that craves to be cared for.

Daki cares for him, true, but he needs more – a sort of love that will leave his cold, empty heart racing, a love that will make his pessimistic views of himself and the world just a bit softer, someone to hold and warm his bed and tell him that he’s enough.

It’s sad, really; he’s so painfully insecure, so full of self-hatred and loathing that the moment his darling shows even an ounce of kindness or care for him, he’s done for.

He’s latching onto them, desperate for any ounce of love or attention they can give him, greedily taking and taking and taking, needing to feel cared for and wanted in a way he’s only ever dreamed of.

His darling is addicting, the feelings they give him becoming something he needs in order to simply just function, and a darling who can help foster these feelings and continually care for him would be very, very attractive to him.

He needs a darling who pities him, really, though he doesn’t want this to be obvious – they need to feel for him, to want to help him and stop all these horrible self deprecating comments, to help give him even just the slightest bit of confidence.

And just these efforts alone will have him gulping, his claws sinking into their sides in an effort to keep them by his side, safe and secure and trapped, so that they can never leave him.

Patient

He’s emotionally stunted.

 Having been turned to a demon from a difficult, horrible human life, he’s never had any experience with romance or how to properly woo someone. He’s rough around the edges and short tempered, easy to set off in a fit of anger with very little reason.

 He’s genuinely quite difficult to be around, and the constant negativity he spews about his life, humanity, and himself can be hard to tolerate.

As a result, he has to have a darling who is patient; they need to be able to handle all of the foul words and complaining he sends at them, just nodding along and comforting him, letting him clutch onto them and curl around their body, nearly suffocating them as he pours his heart out, relishing in the feeling of someone being there for him.

They need to be able to sooth him when his emotions get out of hand, running their fingers through his spindly hair and slowly rubbing his back, whispering his name and telling them that it’s okay, I’m here now, let’s try to get some sleep.

He needs a steady figure in his life, someone he can fall back on, someone to depend on and keep by his side as his rock.

He's too reclusive and standoffish to have had anyone prior to his darling, and the moment that his obsession forms, he’s latching onto them and never, ever letting go, akin to a parasite.

They become his sounding board, and while he does come as close to love as his twisted heart can get, at the end of the day they’re a possession of his, and they must be able to handle him.

Things will ugly very quickly if they can’t; a fate both he and his darling want to avoid.

Submissive 

Gyutaro likes the idea of a darling who will revere him. He doesn’t want someone who is feisty or stubborn; he likes the idea of a darling who is submissive and nurturing, kind and patient and utterly willing to do everything he wants.

He has such trouble being vulnerable, and a darling who challenges him in any way will immediately force him to backtrack any sort of progress he makes in this field, his shell closing in on himself and cutting him off from any further emotional contact with his darling.

He’s sensitive, and he needs someone who will simply nod and allow him to hold them, even if his hands are deathly cold and he’s so awkward about physical affection that it hurts.

He needs someone who will smile when he asks them to, the apples of their cheeks plumping up and their pretty teeth on display, the smile – even forced – making his heart ache in a way he simultaneously adores and makes him nauseas.

He needs someone who will let him rant and rave into their ear, his grip on them slowly tightening as he details all of the horrible injustices in the world, complaining about humans and how vile they are.

(He’ll always begrudgingly bury his face against his darling’s back or stomach when he does this, his voice small and weak as he says but not you, you’re different, you’re the only good one of those miserable, filthy beings…)

He just needs someone who will support him, even if that obedience comes from a place of fear and self preservation.

It doesn’t matter, because all that matters to Gyutaro is that they’re with him, warm and alive and pliant in his arms, listening to him and touching him and running their fingers through his hair.

He just needs someone to love, and is that really so much for a creature like him to ask for?

Not traditionally pretty 

While this isn’t a requirement, Gyutaro finds that a darling who isn’t the classical beauty everyone idolized when he was a human is preferable.

He certainly doesn’t find his darling ugly - absolutely not, but the idea of having a darling who has an insecurity regarding their looks is very, very attractive to him.

He doesn’t want his darling to be perfect in others’ eyes – no, they can only be perfect in his eyes, because he’s the only one who seems them for who they truly are.

He’s the only one who understands that they’re more than just their beauty, that they’re sweet and smart and gorgeous and intriguing and so, so very warm.

It makes him feel like he and his darling are connected if they don’t fall under the mainstream category of beauty, like they share something secret and primal, like they understand the suffering and horrors he’s experienced.

It convinces him further that he and his darling are bonded, that it’s some sort of twisted fate that they end up together – the monster and his love, the freak and the only one who could ever love him. It’s oddly poetic in his eyes, and so while this isn’t an absolute necessity, it definitely encourages his attraction towards his darling.

They just grow more beautiful to him day by day, their imperfections becoming the things he loves most about them, and while it sounds almost sweet and innocent, it really, really isn’t.

He’s hyper fixating, and while he doesn’t mean to be rude or prey on his darling’s insecurities, he’ll often comment on these perceived imperfections, telling them that they’re different, unique, weird, but in what he hopes is a comforting, awe-filled tone.

(It’s not, and it will take his darling quite some time to figure out that he’s being honest – he really, truly loves these features. It’s not a lie, even if he sounds like he’s belittling you – truly.)

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Stalker

Gyutaro is, tragically, not the most confidant creature on Earth. He’s internalized every bit of negative treatment he’s experienced, fully believing himself to be repulsive, disgusting, a freak.

And this doesn’t exactly instill confidence in his ability to interact with you – he’s convinced he’ll somehow royally fuck up if he approaches you, whether that be by scaring you, accidentally hurting you, or making you hate him.

He’s sure you’ll find him ugly and strange, that you’ll stare at him in horror and try to run away from him, only to leave him with a broken heart and anger simmering through his veins because how dare you reject him?

 He’s convinced things will go awry if he tries to interact with you in any normal, healthy manner and so he falls back on a less consensual, less perilous position – that is, there are many, many benefits to stalking you.

He can observe you much better this way, watching you at your most vulnerable, when you think you’re alone, when you’re comfortable and at ease and utterly unaware of the violent monster sitting on your windowsill as you sleep, or the shadow in the corner of your bedroom as you dress to get ready for the day.

(You’ll sometimes hear this ragged sort of gasp, so quiet you’ll think you’ve made it up, but it’s real, his cheeks on fire and his hands shaking because god, even just the sight of your bare shoulder is enough to bring him to his knees.)

He’s watching through Daki as he resides inside of her, taking in the way your lips move when you speak, your tongue darting out to lick at the dry skin, your employer feeling the way her brother’s emotions spike upwards the longer you talk.

He watches the way your fingers skillfully move as you fold and sort the laundry piles of Daki’s clothing, your eyes glimmering in the light of the ornate House room, your lashes looking perfectly curled, the urge to count each individual hair making him urge Daki to slowly creep closer, dangerously close to bridging the too-big gap between your bodies.

He takes in the sound of your voice; sweet, like honey, something that makes him close his eyes and bite his lip, his brows drawing inward, the idea of you saying his name making him have to grasp onto the nearest object to keep his composure.

He’s hanging on to every word you say – your replies to Daki’s commands, your words of appreciation when she treats you like a slave, how relentlessly kind to her you are. It’s odd, and frankly he doesn’t understand it – why would you be so sweet to someone treating you so poorly?

It almost makes him mad, as he lays dormant, wishing he could escape his sister’s body and carry you to another room, to wipe the somewhat sad look in your eyes away, to maybe even hold you like he’s seen humans do, pressing you against his bony chest and feeling your warmth and seeing your pretty eyes look up at him and maybe even kissing you –

He’ll always stop himself with a miserable wail when these thoughts get too out of control, confusion coursing through him because what is he thinking? You’re a lowly human, weak and disgusting and obsessed with trivial, horrible things like beauty and greed – you aren’t worth his time or energy, even if your skin looks smooth to the touch, even if your body looks warm and soft underneath the layers of your clothing, even if he swears that you sometimes even seem to see him through Daki, as if you can sense his presence.

The denial slowly begins ebbing out of his system, however, as time goes on – and instead, he replaces it with an increased sense of desperation for you.

He starts spending more time outside of Daki’s body than inside, wishing to be independent so that he doesn’t have to merely observe and hope that Daki will be in the same room as you.

Now, he can freely follow you; tracing your every move to different rooms in the house, around the district. He can see who you interact with, learn what makes you smile and laugh, what makes you cry, and see how you grow uncomfortable when strange men leer at you and ask to see what you’re hiding beneath your kimono.

(Rarely does Gyutaro kill non-slayer humans with purpose aside from eating or petty revenge for reacting badly to his appearance, but that night those men died in the most excruciating way he could think of, their voices ringing in his head. C’mon pretty girl, a good bitch like you is only good for one thing. Aw look, she’s scared. That just makes me even more excited, little girl. The rest of the night he spent on your windowsill, yellow eyes fixed on your peacefully sleeping form, trying to engrave the sound of the men’s screams into his mind.)

He likes being your shadow; of course, he fantasizes about the day he’ll get to interact with you himself, but for now this is enough. He's terrified you’d reject him if he were to try to speak with you like a human, and if he tried to confess his feelings for you and you were to reject him?

Well, Gyutaro isn’t afraid of many things, but he’d rather insult Muzan than see the disgust and hate in your eyes directed at him.

So, he satiates himself with simply watching you, always keeping a healthy distance between you, one that makes him equal parts relieved and frustrated.

It’s easy to pretend like he's in your life this way; he’ll imagine you saying his name, imagine holding you while you sleep, brushing away stray strands of hair from your face while you smile at him. He runs his fingers over your pillow when you’re not in your room, brings your toothbrush to his lips as he slowly, deliberately licks across the tied bristles, eyes rolling back because is this what you taste like?

It’s easier to pretend like you actually know of his presence this way, like you’re happy that he’s watching out for you, like you want him to stare at you, like you want him to just be there, to be by your side.

He won’t be content forever to simply follow you, but before he steals you away to Daki’s lair, it’s enough. Just barely, but it takes Gyutaro so long to gather the courage to actually interact with you that this is the only way to save himself from potential embarrassment and rejection.

After all, he feels like he’s getting to know the real you this way – too bad you know nothing of the looming, violent presence sticking onto you like fucking glue. 

Clingy

Gyutaro has a difficult time expressing his feelings. With his limited romantic experience, he’s very much not adept at human emotional communication. He struggles to properly display how he feels for you, especially towards the beginnings of his obsession.

At first, he’s incredibly resistant to the idea of growing attached to you. You’re just a human, and a weak one at that – you’ve been blessed with a pretty face (gorgeous even, he might say, though the barrage of scratching at his eyes that follows that statement deters it), you’re kind, you’re everything he claims to hate.

And yet, he can’t stop thinking about you – it’s infuriating, and at first he finds himself idly wondering if he should just kill you to get all these confusing, uncomfortable feelings to go away.

He doesn’t like how he’s not in control when he thinks of you, his heart racing and his palms growing sweaty, this weird, foreign sense of urgency fluttering in his stomach because he just needs to see you, to let his eyes settle onto your figure, to hear your voice or watch as you bite your lip in concentration or peacefully sleep.

He wants to kill you, but the more he thinks about it, the less sure of that he becomes – there’s this sour taste in his mouth when he imagines your dead body, and it makes him scratch at his neck to imagine you not being alive and therefore not watchable.

So, begrudgingly, he decides he shouldn’t harm you – not out of cause for your safety, but rather out of selfishness. This is, of course, just what he tells himself – in reality, it’s very much because he can’t stomach the thought of you getting hurt.

He doesn’t want a single scratch to mar your pretty skin or a single hair on your head to be touched – you’re perfect, and you’re his little bit of perfection, one that he’s never had before. He’s never had someone make his heart race like this, nor has he ever had someone be so unintentionally kind to him.

Originally, you’d caught his attention because you’d seen a shadow of him in Daki’s room in the house, and as her servant, you’d quickly closed the door and begged her forgiveness for interrupting, only to offhandedly compliment the colors of his hair as you attended to her.

Gyutaro, having been resting within her, had heard your compliment, and immediately was bristling, his heart fighting between extreme anger that you could be making fun of him, and a smaller, pathetically hopeful piece of him that was wondering if you’d meant it, if he’d really just received the first compliment of his life.

And from then on, he’s lost – his obsession festers quickly and strongly, his dependence on you growing with every minute of every day as he relives your compliment over and over, slowly finding everything you do endearing and interesting and – dare he say it – cute. And so, simply put, any time that Gyutaro is not sealed away inside of Daki, he’s diligently by your side, stuck to you like glue.

Once he develops feelings for you, he becomes much more independent than his previous self – rarely does he reside within Daki anymore, unless he needs to rest. He doesn’t like being trapped and separated from you, because while he still retains a level of consciousness of what’s going on around him when he’s sealed away, residing within her limits his ability to communicate with you.

And god, does he love to do that – once he’s stolen you away, he’s always, always talking to you, his gravelly voice ringing in your ears even when you try to sleep. He’s always asking your opinion on things, questions that seem pointless about your favorite foods, colors, activities, even personal questions about himself.

(What is your favorite thing about me? And don’t lie, I can sense when you lie; your lip trembles slightly, and I’ll sense your heart beating faster. It might be hard to answer, I’m so ugly…)

And of course, when he’s got you trapped in his thin, inhumanely strong arms while you both reside in Daki’s nest as the sun beats on the ground above, he’s reaching deeper, the questions becoming more personal.

Hey, what’s your biggest fear? What makes you the happiest? How does it feel to be so misfortunate as to have me as your lover?

He’s not always looking for answers – though most of the time he is – but rather he just likes the way you look at him while he asks. Your eyes are wide, your rapt attention given to him, and the way you hang onto his every word has him feeling important, understood, even if your answers aren’t what he wants to hear.

He’s never punished you for a wrong answer to these questions, though it’s easy to read his disappointment. Mostly, he absolutely hates it when your compliments fall flat, or if you aren’t as kind and loving as you normally are to him.

If you don’t give as heartfelt of a compliment to his appearance as you did yesterday – instead of praising his collarbone as being defined and curved like a bird’s song sounds, you’re telling him his eyes are pretty – he’ll pout, like some child, though the repercussions and feeling of terror you’ll experience are anything but childish.

He’s frowning, a scowl pulling at his features because he wants more. Tell him how his eyes make you feel – do you get nervous butterflies in your stomach from them? Do you lose yourself in the amber depths, getting lost in the way he gazes at you with such ardent adoration and lust?

Gyutaro is needy, really, and you’ll very quickly learn this. It takes a while for him to allow himself to touch you (he’s nervous at first, though he’d never ever admit it – he’s killed and injured too many, never having known how to be gentle and loving, and the thought of accidentally hurting you has him scratching at his face and chest, agony blooming in his heart), but once he crosses that mental barrier, he’s suddenly never taking his hands off of you.

The touches are small at first – a hand at your cheek while his thumb traces your cheekbone, the sharp nail unbearably close to your eye as you stay as still as you possibly can. He’ll run his fingers over your hair, the texture growing familiar as that strange, dazed look overtakes his features.

He’ll try to have you in his arms as often as he possibly can, whether that’s leaning over your body while you stand before him, or forcing you to sit in his lap as he runs a finger up and down your spine, marveling at how soft and warm and pliant you feel in his grasp.

(You’ll be able to tell he’s in awe, too, because there’s always something hard pressing against your lower back and the breaths he wheezes into your ear are strained and uneven and gaspy.)

He grows a penchant for simply watching you, his eyes fixed on your form as you bite your lip and shiver, the freezing temperatures of Daki’s lair making your skin burst into goosebumps.

He’ll occasionally bring back human items; you’ve woken up to a ratty woolen blanket covering your form before, a thin pillow under your head while Gyutaro’s face peers at you from a mere foot away, his own body lying down beside yours. You’re sure he was watching you sleep – as he often does – but you can’t deny the warmth the blanket offers you, and you’ll even whisper with a soft voice, thank you, Gyutaro.

(You hadn’t been aware previously to him that demons could blush, but the soft pink that envelopes his cheeks is difficult to ignore, as is the way he warbles and rolls over to face away from you, curling in on himself and violently scratching at his chest, the embarrassment and influx of something warm and sweet and good in his heart making it hard to look at you.)

Generally, Gyutaro’s main goal is to always be around you, whether that’s being in the same room, you in his arms, or simply just staring from aware.

He’s needy, absolutely desperate for you to acknowledge him and validate every insecurity still left over from his time as a human, and while he doesn’t believe you most of the time, it’s still euphoric to hear. So please, please tell him you love the way he holds you so delicately and carefully. (Don’t mention the way his protruding bones dig into your skin, causing your discomfort and making it hard to spend the hours laying with him that he wants.)

Tell him that you enjoy the way he says your name, that it sounds sweet and romantic and loving. (The odd lilt that sounds just a bit too much like a moan isn’t important, of course, nor is the way you sometimes see his eyes roll back just slightly, as if the mere thought of you is enough to get his knees weak and blood rushing south. It is, but again, it’s not important.)

Tell him that you wish he’d be with you forever, that you’ll never leave his side. (And when you’re forced to drink Muzan’s blood – and Gyutaro’s, too, because he wants to feel more connected to you - and you become a demon, don’t be surprised when he says with a gleeful smile that now we can truly be together, stuck with me for all eternity, clutching onto you with all the force and strength he’s been yearning to for months.)

He just loves you, or as much as a demon can, so just take it, yeah?

Protective

Once his feelings for you begin to form, the residual urge to protect Ume that resided within his human self comes into play.

Of course, he still protects and prioritizes Daki’s safety, but you’re equally as important to him, just in a different way. With Daki, it’s about survival – he cannot live without her, and she cannot live without him. They’re siblings, bonded by something deep and intangible, something that can never be broken.

But you?

Oh, it’s different with you – you’re something he wants to protect, his own sweet, naïve little human that he gets to keep as his own for all eternity. He wants to keep you pristine and healthy and detached from the vile, horrible human world, because he wants to feel like your protector, to feel like you need him, like you wouldn’t be alive today without him stopping all sorts of threats.

(He’s the only real threat facing you, of course, but it’s not like that – of course not, because he loves you, and why would he ever hurt you? He’s already decided not to eat you, so why do you still seem so uncomfortable around him, always flinching away from him or breathing hard when he comes near you?)

Despite his mantra of balancing the inequalities of misfortune he’s had to endure, he sees you as his sole light. You’re the only thing he’s been given by the heavens, and how could he squander the only good thing he’s ever had?

The prospect of you dying or becoming horribly injured makes his eye twitch and his fingers grasp onto his scythes so tightly that his knuckles turn white, his bloodlust palpable in the air. And so, Gyutaro takes your safety very, very seriously.

He himself only eats human flesh, but he knows (begrudgingly), that you won’t partake in this particular diet, so he scrounges up stolen food from the various shops in the district. He’s not quite sure what all you like, and he’d never gotten the opportunity to try most foods when he was a human, so he relies solely on smell to guide his food picking.

 Everything he brings back is either extremely healthy (earthy materials with a residue of dirt on them, likely pulled directly from the ground out of someone’s home garden), or extremely unhealthy (boxes of pickled candies with minimal nutritional value).

He doesn’t remember what humans need in order to survive, so while the constant supply of food is good, the food itself is not.

And yet, there’s something oddly endearing about the way he watches while biting his lip (his sharp teeth drawing blood along with the nails that scratch at his biceps), eyes trained on you as you chew and swallow, watching every movement like a hawk. He’s so focused, the nervous question of do you like it rolling off his tongue before he can help himself, shame eating away at him because he sounds so damn pathetic. He’ll watch you eat, making sure you don’t choke, with his fingers shaking slightly as he holds himself back from reaching out to touch you, to make sure you’re real.

He’s always asking you if you’re feeling good, hoping that you don’t fall ill, because he remembers nothing of human medicine and he can’t exactly take you to a doctor with his condition.

And while his protectiveness in terms of your needs as his captee are admirable for a man-eating monster, the level at which he obsesses over your safety in other ways is less than ideal.

He’s so, so scared of you harming yourself that he does nearly everything for you. He’ll call you weak as he helps you bathe, his hands running over your naked skin with strokes that are much slower than they need to be, but he doesn’t mean what he says.

(You’re not even sure he's aware of what he’s saying – the way his eyes bulge out of his head every time he sees your bare ass tells you as much, as does the way his breathing gradually picks up as he bathes you, uneven breaths turning into labored pants until it reaches a fever pitch and oh – was that a moan of your name?)

He’ll tell you that you’re pathetic for needing his help walking around the lair, though you very much never asked for his assistance; nonetheless, his arms wrap under your armpits regardless, helping ease some of your weight off of your knees, the lack of exercise you receive from staying underground all day long making your muscles tired and weakened.

He’s condescending, really, though it’s painfully obvious he doesn’t mean to be. There’s malice in his eyes when he tells you these things, though you’ve learned he always has malice in his eyes, so is it really aimed towards you?

If he really hated humans and the blessed as much as he claims, would his grip on your delicate skin be as gentle as it is? You don’t think so, and while it hurts to be called weak and incapable every day, his insistence on helping you with the most trivial of tasks tells you that he cares about you more than he’s willing to admit.

And – heaven forbid – if you were to ever be in danger from another man?

Well, Gyutaro’s never enjoyed a kill so much, even against pesky Hashira. Because when he eventually tears out the man’s eyeballs, his teeth bared as he growls and groans at the fresh corpse, obliterating the body in a more graphic and violent way than usual, Gyutaro can’t help but feel smug because he saved you, he made sure this vile excuse for a life never laid a hand upon you.

And if it’s another demon that’s threatening you? Gyutaro’s an Upper Rank for a reason, and while this battle is significantly more terrifying for you to watch, he's torturing the demon as slowly and painfully as he possibly can with two main goals in mind.

Firstly, he’s making a point to the other creature, showing him that only he can lay eyes upon you, and only he can have and hold you.

And the other reason? Well, he can’t deny the way his heart races when you praise him for his power, telling him he’s so strong, I – I feel safe with you, Gyutaro…

He feels needed when he protects you, and so your best course of action is really to just let him baby you. Daki and you both might hate it, but Gyutaro needs to take care of you – he needs to hear you praise him and thank him for his hard work, and with every compliment that slips from your lips he only grows more and more obsessed. 

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Quite honestly, the likelihood of anyone else giving you the attention or time of day that Gyutaro is afraid of is extremely low.

The only people you’ll really ever see are himself and Daki; your lone companions for the rest of your life. Being kept hostage in Daki’s underground lair makes it very, very difficult for you to receive visitors, and unless you’re able to crawl at a steep upwards incline for miles through tunnels, you have very little hope of ever escaping. Consequently, the chances of you ever interacting with someone that could spark jealousy within Gyutaro while you’re under his thumb is very low.

But that’s the key part – while you’re under his thumb. He doesn’t act on his obsession very quickly, instead preferring to simply stalk you for months on end, watching and observing and letting his feelings fester, growing stronger and stronger until they eventually bubble over and he can’t not be with you at all hours of the day.

But that period of a few months between his feelings for you forming and when he eventually steals you away are wrought with jealousy and frustration on his end. He’s constantly, constantly paranoid that another man will come and sweep you off your feet, that you’ll fall head over heels for some lowly human man, that your heart will be stolen and possessed by some weak, pitiful human that doesn’t even deserve you.

(Not that he feels he deserves you either, but it’s different for Gyutaro – at least he can protect you, at least he can keep you safe. What can this man do? What could he possibly offer you, aside from perhaps a more pleasant face?)

He’s monumentally terrified of you ever finding someone else to love, the prospect of you leaving him behind, your feelings (whatever they may be) for him withering away into nothing while another man holds your attention and love being more painful to him than anything else he could ever imagine.

He doesn’t want to lose the feelings you give him, so he resigns himself to knowing he has to do something to stop all these men from potentially stealing you from him. He doesn’t like how weak this all makes him feel, the paranoia churning in his gut and forcing him to act in ways he'd never expected to, ways that disgust him, ways that embarrass him when Daki asks why the hell he seems to be going so far for some stupid human woman.

He’s never even totally sure himself, only guided by the knowledge that he has to keep you his, that he can never go back to his life before you wandered into it. All he knows is that when he hears your voice (so pretty and sweet, something he could listen to for hours if you’d let him) accompanied by a more masculine, male one, he’s seeing fucking red.

He’s never felt this angry before; Hashira have come and gone, made his sister cry and landed a few good hits on him, but he’s genuinely enraged in that moment, honestly livid at what’s happening right before him.

The idea that you could be talking to another man haunts him from that night forward, the jealousy brewing in his gut difficult to identify but horrible to harbor. Gyutaro gets jealous extremely easy during this time period between the formation of his feelings and eventually kidnapping you; he’s so terrified of another man grabbing your attention, and can he honestly be blamed?

He’s a monster, and his self esteem is so low that he’s sure every other living being on the planet is more attractive than him – so why would you ever choose him?

Gyutaro gets very, very angry when jealous.

He’s naturally quick to kill, but in the context of him being fearful of your attention wavering from him, he’s even more trigger happy. He’ll kill without a second thought, slashing at the heads of any man he thinks has even the merest idea of potentially pursuing you.

So when he’s coming back from a kill one night, with blood already staining his fingers and his stomach full, the last thing he expects to hear is your voice. He’d hated having to leave you alone; normally, he’s following you like a shadow, never more than a few feet behind you, following your every move and staying with you for hours on end.

You’ve never really noticed, as his skills of deception and hiding are high, and being this far away from you for a few hours has taken its toll on him. He’s exhausted, and every muscle in his body is taut and alert – ready to see you, to smell your now familiar scent and gaze at your beauty in whatever working kimono you were wearing this evening.

However, your voice brings him out of that reverie – you’re laughing. And so is the man you’re with. Immediately, Gyutaro’s face twists into an ugly scowl, his claws scratching at his cheeks and chest as he begins muttering under his breath, trying to pinpoint where the sound of your voices is coming from. He growls as he finally decides on the direction, before sprinting off, already arming himself with his sickles.

His shoulders are more hunched than usual when he lands on the balcony of the room you’re currently in, the man in question sitting across from you over a small table. Gyutaro’s eye twitches, his gaze raking over the man in question. He’s tall, he can tell; a brunette with soft hazel eyes, his physique decent underneath the black robes he wears. Immediately Gyutaro finds himself hating him even more – he looks rich, happy, handsome.

For a moment Gyutaro is frozen, simply watching the scene play out with wide, panicked eyes, his pulse racing dangerously, before the man’s reaching hand caressing yours over the table snaps him out of his daze. He growls lowly, charging into the room as quickly as he can and snatching the man into his arms, thrusting him outside and disappearing before you have a chance to register what just happened, everything happening in the blink of an eye.

As he runs through the crowded, loud backstreets of the Entertainment District out to somewhere more private where he can probably dispose of this scum, he hopes that he was fast enough that you didn’t catch a glimpse of him. He’d heard your confused calls of what he assumed to be the man’s name, but that only made him angrier, his steps faster and faster as he neared the woods.

Soon he’s surrounded by trees, their shade darkening his body, only allowing his eyes to illuminate. Gyutaro throws the man to the ground, the dirt of the forest surely staining his robes an ugly brown color. The man hacks as he touched the ground, the force knocking the air out of his lungs, but Gyutaro doesn’t wait.

No, instead he throws the man against a nearby tree with a scythe, the sound of cracking making a wide, gleeful smile cross his features. The man’s back is broken, surely, but it’s not enough.

You think you’re special, don’t you?

He warbles, eyes narrowing while the smile stays spread across his lips. The anger in his veins is so potent that it forces him to take staggering steps, his mind too hyper focused on killing this man to walk properly.

You think you can have any woman you want, don’t you?

The man gasps something, though his body isn’t moving from where the scythe has him pinned against the bark.

Gyutaro spits at him, a glob of saliva landing on the man’s cheek.

I may be the repulsive one, but you’re pretty pathetic too, huh? Letting someone as ugly as me kill and devour you…

Gyutaro cuts himself off with a giggle, his fingers once again coming up to scratch at his face and neck.

Then I’ll make you suffer… you’ll watch as I feast on your flesh.

And with that he charges forward, his fingers wrapping around the man’s forearm and pulling, hard, the resounding sound of tearing flesh making him grin. As he brings the severed arm up to his mouth, blood streaming down his arm, Gyutaro can only shake, the thought of eating the man that dared touch you and steal your attention making a strange sort of euphoria dance through his veins. Not a piece of the man is left by the time Gyutaro is done an hour later, his stomach sated as he scowls down at the bloodstains left by the stranger.

(He’d paid special attention to truly savor and enjoy the hand that had touched you – licking at the skin, a moan tumbling from his lips because this is the closest he’s ever gotten to touching you himself, and even if it was the disgusting man’s arm, the experience was still intimate, sweet, enough to force him to have to lean against the nearest tree so as not to fall to his knees when they buckle.)

He spits once more at the ground, cursing the human, before sprinting off to the room you’d been in, hoping with everything he has that you’d still be there.

Maybe he could watch you for a while; you always looked prettiest when you were unaware, and maybe you’d even fall asleep so he could come closer, so he could smell you, touch you ever so lightly, listen to the way your heartbeat beats again, and again, and again…

The rage subsides slowly as he places himself outside the window of your home in the House, his harsh breathing slowly returning to normal, until a light pink flush coats his cheek and he coos your name, wishing you’d turn around and smile at him, that you’d cup his face and tell him I love you Gyutaro, no one but you.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Because Gyutaro’s feelings for you take a while to accumulate (mostly through watching you while he’s dormant inside of Daki, or stalking you from the shadows as he grows more and more fascinated with you), he’ll slowly come to the conclusion that you can’t be left alone.

He discovers he fucking hates not having you next to him; you’re the one thing he looks forward to every day.

Seeing your smile ignites this odd sense of happiness inside his chest, a feeling he’s not sure he’s ever experienced before.

His fingers shake when he’s around you; nerves eating him alive, because as desperately as he wants you to give him attention, he’s also terrified you’ll find yourself repulsed by him, that he’ll do something that causes you to hate him or be afraid of him.

He needs your focus on him, but he’s just so, so scared that you’ll reject him – which, in combination with his jealousy, leads Gyutaro to an odd dilemma.

On the one hand, he always, always wants your presence near him – you’re like his drug, the one he’s hopelessly and happily addicted to, and to be without you would mean death to both the small grains of humanity still within him, and any sense of self he possesses.

And on the other hand, he’s terrified that you’ll find someone better than him, that you’ll replace him and leave him in the dust behind you, heartbroken and enraged that you’re gone.

And so, he does the only thing he can think to do – if he’s afraid of losing you and your gorgeous, bright smile aimed at him, then taking you before you can leave is the only solution.

He’s not particularly regretful about stealing you away from your life; you didn’t love the world you were in, he knows that. He knows that despite now being stuck with a grotesque monster, you’re in a better place now.

Because despite his flaws (both internally and externally), the one thing that Gyutaro can do better than any other man on Earth is protect you. He’s strong, capable, destructive, and thoroughly able to take care of you.

Thus, don’t you belong fully under his protection, where the world can get at you (and you can’t get at it)?

Gyutaro believes so, and stealing you away not only keeps other men away from you, but now you’re fully his. Daki’s lair is empty most of the time anyways, and maybe in the dimness you won’t see Gyutaro very clearly.

Maybe then the compliments that come from your lips will feel more real – and maybe then, Gyutaro can will himself to believe that you mean it when you say you don’t think he’s ugly, simply special. 

Of course, Gyutaro is a demon. He’s by no means an ideal captor – he’s only marginally aware of what humans need in order to survive, and despite his intense devotion to you, he’s not fully changing his personality just because of your presence.

He becomes much softer around you; less harsh around the edges, more like a nervous teenage boy because fuck does he want to impress you.

He doesn’t want you to be disappointed in him, so he tries his absolute best to keep you comfortable and happy, though he isn’t always successful. He doesn’t fully understand that insects and scraps of food from various shops in the district aren’t your preferred meal, but don’t mention it to him. He doesn’t realize that the one kimono he’d stolen you away in has grown to be caked in mud and dirt since you’ve been ‘living’ in this lair of his, but you won’t say anything out of fear that the alternative is wearing nothing.

Don’t ever say anything even somewhat negative to him about his actions; he’s extremely sensitive, and one small critique of him in any way has him caving in on himself, scratching at every inch of his skin as warbles away about how you don’t love him, you’re lying to him, how he knew there was no way you could love such a disgusting monster.

 He’ll close himself off, the anger and hurt making his head spin, and after a long few minutes of him wallowing in his self pity, he’s suddenly up, staring at you with wide yellow eyes and a tear or two, his hands shaking as he lunges at you.

However, while he’s somewhat stand-offish at the start of your captivity, he slowly warms up to you.

Mostly, he’s just terrified that you’ll confirm all of the insecurities he possesses; he’d die if you were to call him ugly, his heart cracking into a million little pieces while tears well in his eyes and his lips spread into an ugly sneer, bitterly telling you he knew it, I knew a spoiled whore like you could never love a monster like me.

Of course, you know well enough not to do that (you’ve seen Daki and him smeared with blood too many times to fear how they’d deal with your resistance), but the fear is very present in his heart.

He’s always nervous you’ll turn back on your compliments, that your sweet words and touches are born out of trying to trick him into being falsely secure, then tearing the rug out from under him, leaving him a shell of what’s left of himself.

However, as you don’t morph into the monster he secretly half-hopes you’ll become, Gyutaro slowly grows more trusting of you, more believing of your kind words.

He starts touching you softly – his fingers brushing over your skin, over the fabric of your kimonos. He’ll throw an occasional smile at you under the guise of being teasing, though despite the stinging, rude comment he likely uttered, the quirk of his lips looks strangely genuine.

Eventually, he’ll allow himself to hug you, your softer body against his making his knees feel weak, his heart leaping up to his throat.

And as his physicality grows more lenient with you, as do his words – instead of only teasing, crude remarks made towards you, he slowly begins complimenting you as well. He’s used to hiding behind his mean words as a defense mechanism, but when you’re looking up at him with your watery, scared eyes, how can he call you a pathetic excuse for a human?

You’re beautiful; every imperfection and blemish on your body is gorgeous to him, and how could he ever make you feel terrible about yourself?

And so, instead of telling you that you’re really pretty sad, you know? Laying on the ground scared like a worm, a poor excuse he’ll instead say you have some dirt on your cheek, you’re so messy.

It’s not that much better, but as time passes his words slowly grow less harsh and more appreciative, until he’s pulling you close one night and whispering into your ear that he thinks he loves you, that he needs you, don’t ever leave me alone, I can’t live without you.

Aside from the way he acts around you, your living conditions will be painfully unchanging. You’ve been relocated to Daki’s lair, deep underground. A few lamps were brought in by Gyutaro so that you could see, the warm light making you feel slightly better as the chill of underground seeps into your bones.

He’s collected a number of human items for you in an attempt to get you feeling more at home; a collection of blankets sits at the end of your futon, a makeshift pillow sitting on the other end. A few novels have been delivered to you, and while you’re not a particular fan of any of the genres present, you’ve read them cover to cover more times than you can count during your time with Gyutaro.

He brings you human foods (though they’re marginally considered food), and he’s placed an instrument he stole from the House down there as well, as entertainment for when he can’t be with you.

(When he’d brought the instrument, he’d set it down in front of you and scampered back, his shoulders hunched in slightly, nervously glancing at you as you appraised his gift, his heart racing wildly because do you like it? Are you happy he thought of you and stole this for you? Are you appreciative? Will you give him a kiss as a thank you?)

Daki is hardly ever around, and while her belt can be annoying when it speaks, a quick conversation with Gyutaro about not bothering you had Daki reluctantly relenting to keeping her belt mute, only furthering her irritation with you.

Gyutaro is always in the lair with you unless he’s directly needed by Daki, or to feed. As such, you’d better be prepared to constantly be stared at, watched, poked and prodded, your sleeping body waking up to a different position than the one you fell asleep in, nail marks still imprinted on your skin.

Gyutaro just really, really likes having you in close contact, and while he knows you likely aren’t extremely pleased by your forced relocation, isn’t this better?

Because now you’re safe – with him, where he can keep every man and demon away from you, keeping you selfishly all for him. 

PUNISHMENTS:

As a captor, Gyutaro is a delicate balance of gentleness and abrasiveness.

Of course, he’s a demon. He’s naturally violent, crunching human flesh between his teeth often, and the strength in just his pinky is more than every muscle in your body combined.

And as a demon, his temper is rocky, at best. He’s extremely temperamental, and it takes little to nothing to set off his anger.

When it comes to you, he’s marginally more in control, but for the most part you need to exercise extreme caution once you’re in his captivity.

Gyutaro isn’t the best communicator, which often times lands you in the unfortunate position of having to guess what makes him mad; you’ve built a list as time goes on, mentally noting any time he seems to get agitated, when he starts scratching more at his neck or his voice gets tight and curt. The list is vivid in your mind, something you diligently avoid bringing up in conversation or doing, if only because you’re still terrified that one day it’ll be your blood staining his teeth or splattered across the metal of those scythes he carries.

And the list is long – he’s easy to set off, whether it’s from mentioning the name of another man, or even just slightly flinching when his hands begin travelling all over your body, his breath ragged and deep.

But you’ve found, through experience, that there are three things he tolerates the worst, one of which being any mention of your past life before meeting him and Daki.

It’s not that he’s not interested in knowing about your hobbies and the people you knew (and, frankly, all that stalking makes you having any habits he’s not aware of extremely unlikely), but rather that he gest so, so jealous when you talk about former friends or important people in your life.

It pisses him off to hear you talk so familiarly about anyone that isn’t him, and each jealous thought is immediately followed up by worries about what they do better than him, if they’re more attractive (he’s sure they are), and just how much better than him they must be.

He’ll also get upset if you mention anything about wanting to escape or leave the lair. He takes it as a sign that you’re not happy here, with him, that you don’t think he’s doing a good enough job of taking care of you.

And lastly, while he knows you’re stuck with a demon like him and are understandably terrified, he doesn’t tolerate your nervous twitches and flinches when he comes near you, or your hurtful words insulting him in any way.

He views it as you rejecting him and his presence, and that’s a sure fire way to find letting a deep scowl settle across his features, his fingers tugging at his hair while he runs off to find some human to kill and feast upon to release his anger.

It’s easy to set him off, yes, but while Gyutaro is by no means gentle, he won’t often actually physically harm you.

He might, potentially, begrudgingly, to prove a point, but the worst he’ll do is break an arm or a finger, something to scare you but not actually threaten your life. And even then, this will take a huge amount of anger on his part to actually follow through on. He’s still hesitant to hurt you in any way, too afraid he’ll accidentally lose control of his strength and kill you, and so frankly these situations are often just as painful for him as it is you.

He avoids these physical punishments, though, unless he absolutely has no other choice – but as a general rule, a twisted arm or swollen joint isn’t the repercussions that await you when you anger him.

No, instead Gyutaro does something much worse – his punishments aren’t planned, purely emotional outbursts that end up warping your view of him, damaging your perception of reality until you’re so unsure of how you real feel or what he really is that you’ll blindly cling to him, the Stockholm Syndrome festering and growing until you become just as dependent on him as he is you.

Generally, any negative comments towards him set him off, but any comments specifically referencing his appearance will bring out a very specific type of rage, and this particular brand of anger is very, very scary.

What makes it so dangerous is that Gyutaro is not only pissed, angry, livid, he’s also incredibly hurt. He hates allowing himself to believe your kind compliments and words, but every once in a while he’ll let them settle in, letting hope bloom in his chest that maybe you mean it.

(He’ll delude himself into believing that you really like his eyes, or that you think his facial birthmarks are endearing, that you aren’t just saying that so he won’t kill you. And it makes him feel good, a sense of belonging and bashfulness making him struggle to meet your gaze and instead tug at your kimono and ask you to say it again and again and again, committing the sound of such sweet words coming from your lips to his memory.)

And the main reason for his anger when you lash out and call him hideous is because he should have known.

It’s a slap in the face – how could he have allowed himself to be so foolish and naïve? How could he have allowed himself to get comfortable, to forget his cursed appearance, to forget that he’s a monster in every sense of the word?

He’s frustrated at himself for not seeing this coming; there’s no way you’d ever like someone like him, and it was stupid of him to even entertain the notion that you don’t see him as a grotesque, terrifying predator.

And so, as the words slip past your lips, he’s immediately freezing, his shoulders going slack and his jaw hanging open slightly. Don’t touch me, you monster!

The lair is eerily silent for a few moments, your words processing in his mind as he stares at you, the only sound filling your ears being your own heavy, nervous breaths.

But soon a small, nearly breathless giggle echoes in your ears, the sound making you suck in a sharp breath. The chuckle soon turns into quiet laughter, rising in pitch and volume until Gyutaro is cackling, his voice cracking and hiccupping as his eyes go wide, his hands scratching welts so deeply into his sides that it almost concerns you.

His whole body is shaking, shoulders violently jumping up and down at the force of his maniacal laughter, but eventually it subsides, his hair hanging forward to cover his face.

Do you think that I’m a monster? You think I’m a freak, huh?

His voice is more unsteady than normal, you note with a sense of fear. He tilts his head up slightly, peeking at you from underneath his bangs, his lips pulled into some mixture of a grimace and a grin, the sight making a shiver crawl down your spine. It’s only now that you notice his eyes are red rimmed, his cheeks wet, as if he’d been laughing so hard he was crying – or, perhaps, he really was crying.

Huh? Answer me, dammit!

He’s screaming now, the grimace getting tighter. He takes a step forward, and you shuffle backwards, scooting the backside of your kimono across the dirt as you shuffle back against the wall, trying to get as much space between the two of you as possible.

Answer me, you bitch!

You squeeze your eyes shut and whimper out a n-no, but that only makes him angrier, taking another step forward, the sound of his foot crunching against the dirt making you sob.

You’re a liar! A filthy, disgusting liar!

His words hurt, though you can’t explain why. They make you flinch, your hands balling into fists as you bring your knees up to your chest, trying to become as small as possible as he takes another few steps towards you.

You’re nothing without me! He’s screeching now, his voice unbareably high, raw emotion shining through as the words start tumbling from his lips. You’d be dead without me! Imagine that? Something as beautiful as you needing a monster like me to keep you from getting devoured by some demon or some human. You’re pathetic, are you ashamed of yourself?

You’re crying now, fat, ugly tears streaming down your cheeks, but he’s too blinded by his rage to notice.

Does it make you feel good to think you’re better than me? Does it make you feel important? You’re a liar! How dare you do this? How dare you lie to me and tell me that you love me, when you just think I’m ugly and horrible!

His voice is close now, too close, and as you peel open your watery eyes, you see his own yellow ones mere inches from your face. His teeth are bared, every muscle in his neck and chest flexing as he struggles to stop himself from reaching out and clawing at your face, destroying your face until he can no longer recognize you.

You’re speaking before you can help yourself, fear and panic and a cold, gripping sense of regret climbing into your throat.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I don’t think you’re a monster, I’m just – I’m just scared Gyutaro! I’m scared of how you make me feel! I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me, please…

You cut yourself off with a sob, fingers digging into your palms, and as you close your eyes and wait for something to happen, all you’ll be met with is the sound of a gulp, his breath still huffing against your skin. It’s silent for a few moments, before you brave a peek to look at him.

His eyes are wide, the yellow bright and still tinged with red as he stares at you. His chest is heaving, breaths falling heavily, and he’s biting his lip. Blood wells up against the wound, but he doesn’t seem to notice. No, he’s staring too intensely at you to notice anything.

Scared of how I make you feel? He questions, moving a few centimeters closer to you.

You nod shakily, swallowing down as much fear as you can manage as you whisper out that he makes you feel wanted, in a way I’ve never felt before, and I don’t know how to deal with that. I want to hate you, but I can’t.

He makes a sound then, like a wounded puppy, deep in his throat as his brows quirk up. Something in his stomach twists, a pleasant feeling settling at the base of his ribs.

You can’t hate me? You can’t despise me?

You nod, biting your lip, and Gyutaro stares at you for a few moments, before his arms are suddenly wrapping around your waist, his body closing the distance as he pins you against the wall, his face buried into your neck and his waist worming its way between your thighs.

You love me, you love me.

He’s chanting against your chin, a bit of his saliva getting onto your neck. His grip on you is tight, soffucating even, making it difficult to breath. He doesn’t seem to notice, though, and with a small, unsure swallow, you try your best to rub at any skin of his that’s available, soft petting motions that make another little whimper muffle against you.

You love me you love me you love me you love me –

It’s a mantra, like he’s trying to convince himself, but as he spends a good forty minutes repeating this to himself, keeping you trapped in his arms against the dirt wall, you’ll find yourself wondering if he’s really even lying – do you love him?

You hadn’t been lying when you said you aren’t able to hate him. He’s a monster and has killed countless people, kidnapped you, keeping you locked up and always touching you and forcing you to look at him, but do you love him?

Maybe you do, because as you find yourself relaxing into his arms, finding comfort in the feeling of his hot warm breath against your skin, you almost feel at ease. Maybe it’s survival instincts, maybe it’s something else – it doesn’t matter though, does it?

Because you’re stuck with him, and he’ll never, ever let you go.

OVERALL DANGER:

9/10

Gyutaro is less dangerous to you and more dangerous to those around you.

He’s by all accounts shy in the beginning of his obsession with you – stalking you relentlessly from the shadows, watching and waiting and never leaving your side for even a moment, content to simply see you as you smile and sleep and live your life.

He won’t ever hurt you – at least, not often – and in fact protects you to a fanatical degree, but the same can’t be said for the other people in your life.

He’s very, very willing to eliminate anyone he deems as competition for your attention and love, enjoying devouring them and ending their miserable lives in the most painful, drawn-out way possible. He views himself as your protector, watching from the shadows and acting as your twisted guardian angel, until suddenly it’s not enough – he needs more.

He needs to have you looking at him, acknowledging him, your pretty voice saying his name and your soft hands on his calloused, rough skin.

He needs to have you fall asleep in his arms, your breathing even and steady and so very precarious, your unaware and vulnerable state making him lick his lips and slowly, carefully, timidly press a clumsy kiss against your lips, immediately pulling back with pink tinged cheeks because oh, he wasn’t expecting your lips to be so soft and warm.

If you can look past the kidnapping, murder and invasions of your privacy, Gyutaro is honestly not the worst – he’s temperamental and difficult to handle with all of his triggers, but if you can find yourself balancing and managing to placate him, life with him won’t be too terrible.

He'll care for you as best as he knows how, keep you company whenever he can, drown you in physical affection once he musters up the courage, and over time his harsh comments will eventually morph into honest, genuine compliments about things so specific that you’ll feel seen, understood, perhaps even loved.

 Because while Gyutaro may be rough around the edges and difficult to understand, he really does love you in some twisted, fucked up way – and if you’re to be stuck with him for the rest of your life, isn’t it better that you accept it?

Wouldn’t it just be easier for both of you to let him hold you, to whisper to him that you’re happy with him?

Just accept your fate – you’ll be much, much happier that way. 

[fili-urzudel]

Second - Thorin Oakenshield x Reader

Summary: The reader realizes something about Thorin's priorities.

Part 2 Part 3

Word Count: 0.8 k

Warnings: slight cultural misunderstandings, a little heartache

"Thorin!" You called with a smile, striding towards him at your usual meeting place. It was just a forgotten, low stone wall among an even more forgotten old plot of land. But it had a great view of the sunset, and sitting against it kept the wind out on cold days. It had become one of your favorite places.

He called back to you, a faint grin accompanying it. "You're late."

"Perhaps you're early," you pointed out, jumping up to sit on the wall next to him. 

He gave one short chuckle.

"You seem preoccupied," you commented, trying to keep the comment light.

Thorin sighed through that long, angular nose of his. "I turn one-hundred years of age today," he stated. 

"I know," you said, drawing a small package from your bag. "Congratulations."

He swallowed. "It's been seventy-six years now, since I saw my home. The ravens still have not returned to the mountain."

Your brow furrowed. "Thorin, maybe it's best not to focus too much on that," you consoled. "Focus on living your life well and fully now, instead of just... waiting for that day," you said, instead of a day that may never come in your lifetime.

He didn't respond. "Here," you passed the package to him, pressing it into his palm. 

"What is it?"

You smiled dryly. "Open it and find out."

Thorin studied the round silver object. It looked almost like a ring—that meant something to most men. Or perhaps a bead—which definitely meant something to dwarves—but it was neither, having a narrow incision through it. "What is it?" He asked again.

"It's an ear cuff," you smiled. "I know that most dwarves like jewelry, but a ring or a necklace didn't seem right, and I don't know if you have piercings..." you trailed off. "So I figured an ear cuff could be a good compromise. I tried my best to sort of make it match your beads."

Thorin hoped his face didn't look as warm as it felt. 

To you, it appeared his mind was still far away from you. "Here, I can help you put it on." You turned to straddle the wall, brushing his hair away from his ear. 

Thorin tried his best not to shudder.

"Tell me about something," you requested. 

"Like what?" He tried to keep his voice even as you didn't drop his hair once the cool metal was wrapped into the shell of his ear. You ran your fingers through it instead, gently untangling the knots, your knuckles brushing his shoulder.

"I don't know, something important to you," you suggested, and he swallowed. Would he be able to tell you what hair meant to his people? To him? Would you stop? "Tell me about your creator."

He swallowed. "I suppose... Where to begin? Aule was one of the Valar, and Eru was the only one allowed to create life..."

You listened intently, humming with understanding, until at some point the sun was very nearly set and Thorin's head was in your lap. You didn't know how he had gotten there, only that you had never stopped running your fingers through his hair and he had never told you to. You thought you could stay like that forever.

"Do you remember what Erebor was like?" You asked, filling the silence after he told you about how the dwarves had only narrowly escaped being removed from existence. You felt him tense.

"No," he said, and it sounded as though he had never admitted that to anyone. "I was a child when it happened. I... I see glimpses, but... I don't remember what it was really like, aside from what I've been told."

You brushed another piece of hair out of his eyes after the wind had put it out of place. "And yet you still love it."

Thorin breathed for a moment before answering. "I do."

"You would do anything for a homeland that you hardly even remember?"

Thorin sighed, closing his eyes. "Perhaps it is not the Lonely Mountain that I love. It is my people. They deserve to have their home back. They deserve for revenge to be exacted on Smaug."

"You would do anything for your people," you said, and it was no question.

"Anything."

And me? You couldn't bring yourself to ask. You withdrew your fingers from his hair, balancing on the stones again. "I admire that about you."

Thorin sensed the shift in your tone. His eyes blinked open again, piercing blue staring into your eyes. "Have you ever had something that you would die for?"

"Die for?" You repeated softly, fidgeting with your fingernails. You gazed back at him, unable to look anywhere else. "Worse, I think. Something that I would live for."