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#still do not know how i want to render. why is life so hard
bunniberry · 4 months
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why is the quality so BAD!! ESPECIALLY THE FIRST ONE!!!
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bunnihearted · 4 months
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🐰🩹🧸🏨
#i hate being in pain like this#bc it completely takes over my life. like im incapable of thinking of anything else#im incapable of relaxing or enjoying anything. i cant do important things. cant do anything else but sit still nd be in pain#it just renders me completely useless and makes me stop functioning properly#im just a hopeless mess made of anxiety nd sadness. idk why but i just hyperfixate on it and i cant 'let go' or relax or not think abt it#idk how other ppl do it.... i wish i wasnt like this bc it's awful. it's like the only thing that exist nd ever will exist is this pain 4evr#im dramatic i know but ​it genuinely feels like my entire life is over and i'll ever know is pain nd nothing will ever get better again#im so caught up in it i cant see anything else but my pain. i cant think of the future bc do i have one?? i dont know#im just not feeling good at all. and everything feels bleak and depressing and i dont want it :((#i cant have any fun or nice moments at all and im just tired of life#i feel so fkn stressed abt all the things i need to do nd all my responsibilities and idk how i'll do them when im in this pain#i just hope it can calm down soon i just want it to be a little bit easier just a little bit#getting thru each day now is so fkn hard i barely sleep but when i do i wish i never wake up#i hate everything and it feels like my future is fucked#which makes me wanna die!! but it also makes me sad bc there is actually sm i want to live for#i dont want it all to be ruined bc i want to try to live!!!! :(#and yess im know im being dramatic but i cant help it. im weak nd im terrible at dealing w pain nd issues#im not a strong person who can withstand everything nd finds ways to live either way. maybe it's bc my will to live isnt that strong#idk. i just hate this i want it to be over. it's taking over my life nd idk how to still function like this
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hairmetal666 · 1 year
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Eddie's at a party, lunch box in tow, and he's making a fucking killing.
He sets up shop in the crowded kitchen, but that doesn't stop him from spotting King Steve in the living room. Harrington's face is still fucked up from the fight with Hargrove, and he's tipping a cup almost vertically into his mouth. He's not too surprised when--the next time he spots the jock--he has a can of beer in each fist.
More customers flood up to him, and he can't help but be a little grateful for the distraction. Harrington is one unrequited crush he just can't kick.
Lunch box cleaned out, Eddie heads outside for a smoke. He's fishing his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket when he hears a snuffling sort of shuffle that sends his heart racing.
He edges forward, just enough to make out the heap of a person half-heartedly sitting up against the house. A person in fitted blue jeans, tight polo, and Member's Only jacket; swoop of chestnut hair catching in the flash of fire from Eddie's Zippo.
"Harrington?"
The guy startles, stability wavering, eyes blinking too much. "Munson?"
"You alright, man?" He asks, though he can already tell that Steve is most definitely not.
Steve shrugs. "Why do you care?" It's not mean, sounds genuinely curious.
Eddie gets it. He has no reason on earth to show concern about King Steve. In answer, he taps his boot against Steve's sneaker, giving him a small smile. "Not sure. But I'm here, so..."
"Just needed some air. Clear my head."
"How much have you had to drink?" Eddie asks.
"One or two,"
"Dozen?"
Steve laughs. "You're funny. Has anyone ever told you that?"
"I've heard," Eddie says, can't help but laugh a little too. "Wanna talk about what's going on?"
Eddie thinks that'll be a "no," but then: "Nancy dumped me."
"Yeah, big news."
"Ugh, people are talking about it?" Steve whines. It's really cute and Eddie hates himself for noticing. Hates himself more when Steve loses his balance, tips onto Eddie's shoulder, and Eddie doesn't tip him back.
Eddie can tell that Steve isn't fully with him anymore. He's a little afraid to leave the guy alone, so Eddie talks about the latest Hellfire campaign. Sober Steve Harrington probably has no idea what dnd is, but the drunk version is kind of a rapt audience.
He's just explaining about owlbears when Steve's voice, soft and sad, says "I just want someone to love me, you know?"
The admission renders Eddie speechless for a second, his chest fucking aching for the jock. He says "Oh, Stevie," knows he sounds too sad, is sure of it when Steve's nose wrinkles (it's cute; it's so fucking cute. Eddie hates himself for noticing).
Before he can backtrack, Steve slumps over, body going limp as he passes out. "Jesus H Christ," Eddie barks.
With a heavy sigh, and way too much fondness, Eddie stands. "Let's get you home, sweetheart."
He gathers Harrington up in his arms--dude is heavy--and carries him around to his van.
---
Steve wakes up, head throbbing and tongue fuzzy, with no idea how he got home and into bed. Can't really recall anything after he stumbled outside, aside from talking to Eddie Munson. But maybe that was a dream? Either way, he's home, not really any worse for wear. It's enough to let him forget all about it; what's one drunken party in a life full of them?
That Wednesday, he opens his locker after the final bell, and a Hershey bar falls out. He picks it up, flipping it over to see a note on the foil wrapping, "thought you might need something sweet to cheer you up." It's not signed, and Steve slips it into his backpack, knowing he's got a silly smile on his handsome face.
The little gifts continue to show up once or twice a week. Candy, plastic vending machine toys, sketches of the school grounds, caricatures of classmates and teachers. Sometimes they even come with a note in handwriting he doesn't recognize.
Along with the little treats, he starts seeing Eddie Munson kind of everywhere. And it's not like Steve hadn't seen him before--guy was hard to miss--but he was never around this often. Wasn't around this often and he and Steve had never shared a smile, a quick bob of the head, a quiet hello.
It isn't long before they're talking. Nothing much, nothing serious. Complaining about teachers, about classmates; sharing weekend plans. Only now Steve can't pretend to not notice the way Eddie dimples up when he smiles, the subtle muscles that bunch under the sleeves of his Hellfire Club shirt, the long litheness of his legs. Steve knows he's attracted to other guys, it's just that he didn't realize he'd be attracted to Eddie.
The gifts keep coming. Once, he opens his locker to find a plastic ring fashioned into a golden crown and a note that says, "made me think of you, Stevie." There's something about the "Stevie" that catches deep in his brain, but he can't make it connect to anything.
A few months later, Steve opens his locker and pulls out a drawing. This one--it's of him. He's gazing out into space in a way that managers to be dreamy and wistful. The Steve in the drawing is lovely, and it makes something clench deep in his gut, that someone sees him like this.
Steve tries to be more aware of the people in his surroundings, to figure out who his admirer is. He's not very good at it, even as more sketches of him--all depicting him as a gorgeous, ethereal thing he definitely isn't--show up in his locker. Especially when, so often these days, the person he sees the most is Eddie.
---
The presents in his locker continue into April, and would probably last until the end of the school year, but Steve's got a migraine starting. He keeps aspirin in his locker, gets a hall pass out of English to get some.
When he reaches his locker, though, someone is already there, with the door open. Someone in ripped black jeans, heavy black boots, a black leather jacket, and patch covered denim vest.
"Munson?" He asks. His heart beats so hard it reverberates in his ears, making it hard to hear.
Eddie jumps back, hands fluttering, face flushing bright red. "Ste--Harrington! I--uh--," he's backing up, his hands held out from his body, like he's pushing Steve away even though they aren't touching.
"Were you--?" Steve tries to ask, but the words won't quite come. There's familiar warmth low in his stomach, a twisting that has nothing to do with his impending migraine.
"I wasn't doing anything, I swear," Eddie says. He's breathing hard, eyes too bright, and Steve thinks he might be about to cry, but then the metalhead is turning away, starting to run.
"Eddie, wait!" Steve calls, chasing after him without much thought. "Please!"
Eddie doesn't stop until after they've crashed out one of the side exits, are alone outside.
"It was you? Leaving the--?"
Eddie nods, presses his hands to his eyes. "Sorry, I'm sorry, Harrington. I just--"
"Don't be sorry," Steve begs. "It's been--I liked it."
"Even now that you know they're coming from the freak?" Eddie spits. He still hides his face behind his hands.
"It's sort of been the best part of my year, if I'm being honest."
Only now does the metalhead remove his hands, blink back at Steve, dark eyes wide with shock. "Really?"
"Yeah. It made me feel-- important, I guess? Like, maybe someone saw me as something more than King Steve."
Eddie smiles now, looks down at the pavement. "I just didn't want you to think that you weren't--" he stops then, presses his mouth tight.
"Didn't want me to think what?"
"That you weren't loved, Stevie."
The statement hangs between them, Eddie's face pinking again, as the words wrap their way around Steve's heart. Loved. That he's loved. It clenches at every part of him, and he surrounds himself with the truth of it, what all those little presents were saying without words.
"Eddie, I--" he's overwhelmed by the gesture, the meaning, the reciprocal buzz in his chest, because Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson, loves him, and this fact is turning Steve's world on it's head in the best way.
"I'm sorry, Steve, really. Please don't hate me, or--or--"
"It means so much to me," Steve says, his voice a little broken. He reaches a hand out, slow, telegraphing the movement. "Can I?" He whispers.
Eddie nods, and Steve strokes the skin of his face with his thumb. "Thank you."
The metalhead nods, leaning into Steve's touch, they shift close, until their foreheads meet, until they share the same air. They stand that way for a while, long enough that they hear the bell ringing, and only then does Steve break their quiet. "Eds?"
"Yeah, Stevie?"
"You wanna hangout some time?"
Eddie laughs. "Yeah. I really, really do, sweetheart."
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depravitycentral · 5 months
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Yandere! Gyutaro NSFW Profile
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Yandere! Gyutaro x fem! reader
Tw: non-con, dub-con, stalking, kidnapping, Gyutaro threatens a couple to let him watch them have sex, exhibitionism, masturbation, period sex, spitting, minor implications of somnophilia, mentions of physical violence, threats, murder, Gyutaro is a freak and likes to hold your hand during sex, fem reader, MDNI
I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!
WC: 13K
HABITS:
Generally speaking, Gyutaro has never really touched himself. Perhaps when he was younger, still a human and going through puberty, but for the vast, vast majority of Gyutaro’s life, his demon biology has rendered every sexual urge he feels dulled to the point of disappearing.
That said, he’s still able to grow jealous at hearing when human partners are intimate with one another, their moans and cries grating on his ears and making him scowl, anger simmering in his veins because why can’t he have that?
Sure, he could find some random human woman and take what he wants from her, but there’s something about the way humans clutch onto one another, moaning out praises and begging for more that enticing Gyutaro, making him feel shy and bashful and pissed because he knows that will never be him. He’ll never have a woman gasping his name in anything other than fear, and although he’s accepted it, he’s wildly jealous.
However, because his actual sexual urges themselves are diminished, Gyutaro more often finds himself jealous than horny – a stark difference between the two. And consequently, he has minimal experience with masturbation, and he frankly doesn’t care. His logistical situation with Daki makes finding the time to touch himself in his own private space extremely difficult. Plus, there’s something awfully pitiful about wrapping his fingers around his cock with the knowledge that they’ll only ever be his fingers, no one else’s – something that makes him warble and scratch himself bloody, effectively killing any libido he’d managed to feel.
But with all of that said, things begin changing once his infatuation with you develops. He’s not immediately wishing to fuck you, but as Gyutaro becomes more comfortable with the idea of intimacy with you, lewd thoughts start tainting the edges of his mind, turning the relatively innocent fantasy of cuddling with you into grinding against your ass, grasping your thigh and lifting it up just barely so that he can slot himself inside, breathing hard into your ear and growling, the sound throaty and heady and so very needy.
And really, is that so unnatural?
Sure, his libido isn’t the strongest, but imagining the woman he thinks he’s in love with to be naked and laid out underneath him isn’t out of the ordinary, right?
He’s sure all men think about the depraved thoughts that start worming their way into his imagination – they’re mostly questions, really, tying into his obsessiveness and desperation to learn as much about you as he possibly can.  
He’s idly wondering how you sound when you moan – is it airy, high-pitched, low, gasping?
How do you look when you come? Does your face scrunch up, does your mouth drop open, do you close your eyes, does your back arch, do you curl your toes, do you reach out and grasp at anything you can find?
What’s your favorite position? He’d be willing to try all of them if you’d like, if you’re unsure – Gyutaro secretly thinks his own favorite will be having you on top, your pretty tits mere inches from his lips and giving him a perfect view of both your own face and your cunt sucking him in again and again and again, the sight making him dizzy with pleasure and forcing him to grasp your hips and fuck up into you, just to hear you gasp and moan and scream his name.
Have you ever squirted? He hopes no man has ever touched you at all, much less made you squirt, but Gyutaro swears he’ll get you to do it – he wants to feel your release all over his face, coating his fingers, tongue, chin, and cock, smeared across every inch of his skin and worn proudly.
Do you like to be praised or degraded, and do you like your lovers vocal? Gyutaro sure hopes so, because he knows he won’t be able to shut up when he’s buried balls deep inside you, your wet, warm, tight walls clenching down on him and forcing curse after groans out of him, practically milking him for both his cum and his moans. He wouldn’t mind praising or degrading you – what naturally slips out of his mouth when he’s fucking his fist is a healthy mix of both, imagining you in front of him and calling you my perfect slut or something of the sort.
Do you groom yourself, keeping everything perfectly smooth and shaved, or do you let nature takes its course? He hopes it’s the latter – he wants to relish in your scent, to bury his face between your legs and inhale deeply, getting a nose full of you, something made much easier when your hair and pheromones are tickling his cheeks.
(While he prefers you to not shave, Gyutaro himself will try to clean himself up routinely – starting way before he steals you away, just so that he can learn how to do it, to make sure he knows how to so that he doesn’t embarrass himself the first time you see him naked. The thought already embarrasses him enough – to have his body open to your scrutiny, to feel you looking at him, and he really doesn’t need the extra stress. Luckily for him, his quick regeneration means no accidental knicks with the razor knife last long – unfortunately, it also means that any cut hair regrows almost instantaneously, much to his displeasure. He’s hopeful you won’t be too disgusted by his pubes the first time you see him – though the dark hairs do a good job of framing the very, very long cock hanging between his legs.)
Quite honestly, he stalks you with such intensity and consistency that he’ll know the answer to many of these questions before long – he's memorized how you look when you come, your face ingrained into his brain and flashing behind his eyelids when he’s orgasming himself. But it’s different to be thinking about something like that – something so naughty. Gyutaro spends his time idly wondering these questions, a pale pink blooming on his cheeks because it’s just so dirty and you’re so very sweet, and thinking of you in such a lewd light almost makes him feel guilty.
Almost, because then he sees you, hiding from the shadows and getting the smallest whiff of your scent every few seconds, and then suddenly all guilt is gone because fuck, he needs you.
However, Gyutaro is still oddly shy about certain things with you. As such, when he first begins fantasizing about fucking you, there’s that small, annoyingly human part of him that worries if you’ll find him revolting once he’s fully nude in front of you, vulnerable to your facial expressions and any words of negative reaction.
He’s terrified, really, that you’ll find him unattractive or too repulsive to sleep with. He wants you to want him, to need him as he needs you, and if you were to call him ugly, a monster, anything of the sort? Well, it would take the demon a long, long time to recover from such a blow to his heart, old wounds tearing open fresh to endure another bout of pain.
And so, in a panicked and a frantic attempt to avoid any negative criticism from you once your intimate relationship begins, Gyutaro decides that he needs to learn more about actual sex, not just the crude, vulgar words he hears from the human men around him. If he wants to have any hope at making you actually enjoy sex with him (something he desperately, desperately wants), Gyutaro feels that he needs to see the real thing, to observe carefully and take notes.
Luckily, it’s not particularly hard to find a coupling around the Entertainment District, sneaking across roofs and peeking into windows until he hears moans and slapping sounds and sees writhing bodies and smells the musty, acrid odor of sex. And once he does, Gyutaro is quick to step down into the room, his presence casting a shadow against the moonlight and candle light of the room, the couple immediately stopping and staring at him in fear.
Before either person has a chance to scream, Gyutaro’s rushing forward, a hand covering each mouth and a sneer on his face as he tells the man that he’s so lucky, having a pretty woman to fuck every night… show me.
The man’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head underneath Gyutaro’s hand, causing the demon’s sneer to fall into a scowl. He needs to see this couple make love – he needs tips and advice, to see how it really goes. Plus, the woman’s body is somewhat similar to yours – perhaps you have similar spots that feel particularly good, and Gyutaro will take any and every scrap of information and ideas he can in order to make eventual sex with you good.
Anything to get you moaning his name and pulling at his hair and begging him for more.
Let me watch you fuck her, or I’ll kill you both. What’s your choice, huh? Gyutaro holds eye contact with the man, watching him debate, feeling the woman trembling and crying under his other hand.
His eye twitches – damn this man for loving the woman, because his slight hesitation in answering means he doesn’t want Gyutaro to see her nude, vulnerable, exposed, and it’s making Gyutaro imagine someone propositioning him this about you. Violent images of how he’d slaughter and kill whoever was threatening to see you moaning and gasping and naked flash through his mind, making him grit his teeth and press against their mouths harder.
At that, the man frantically nods yes, and Gyutaro snickers. Eh, you bastard, letting me watch you touch your woman? Pathetic, man, pathetic.
He takes his hands off their mouths, bracing himself for any screams, but when none come he smiles – a mean, twisted smile. I want to see everything, you know? Start over, act like I’m not here. I’m just watching, so give me a good show but be natural! I’ll kill you if you’re not natural.
Gyutaro scratches at his chest as he settles back against a wall on the side of the room, watching as the couple shakily sits up. The woman is still crying, but the man cups her cheek in his palm, swallowing hard, before slotting his lips against hers. The woman immediately begins kissing him back, the motions slow and hesitant.
Gyutaro growls, his voice forceful as he tells them to kiss harder, I’ll cut off your lips if you don’t.
That gets the two of them moving faster, the audible wet noises as her tongue slips into his mouth making Gyutaro lick his lips. It’s all too easy to imagine you in the woman’s place and him in the man’s, his hand sitting at your breast just as the man’s is, idly squeezing and playing with her nipple. They spend a few more moments kissing, before the man carefully pushes the woman back, laying her down with her legs spread over, her hands held over her head.
They’re still kissing, and Gyutaro’s hand snakes down to cup at his bulge, the idea of wet noises and hovering over you making his breath short. He’s watching them seemingly without blinking, reaching down past the top hem of his pants and firmly clutching at this balls, squeezing harshly and making him hiss through his teeth as the man shimmeys down, kissing and licking at the woman’s breasts.
She keens, biting her lip and trying to not look at Gyutaro, the man using his thumb and index finger to roll her nipple, pinching and tugging while flicking his tongue over its twin. Gyutaro pulls his hands out of his pants briefly to spit into his palm, hand slithering back into his pants and gripping the base of his cock in a death grip.
He’s painfully hard at this point – the man’s head is suddenly between the woman’s thighs, and Gyutaro’s moving forward before he can even think about, still gripping himself under his pants as he nears the bed, wanting an up-close view of the man’s actions. They both tense at this, but Gyutaro scoffs.
Keep going, yeah? Just needed a better view.
The man swallows but obeys, tongue flicking out to lick a long stripe from her folds up and over her clit, making her sigh. Soon his tongue is flicking out and licking at the small bud, fingers pulling up to expose the area and make access easier. Gyutaro mentally notes that away – he knows women like when men play with their clit, and perhaps you’d be impressed by his knowledge of this, or the way he’ll pull your lips up, just so he can fully see that pretty, throbbing pearl on you.
The man’s free hand moves up to run a few fingers through her folds, his fingers suddenly soaking wet and glistening in the moonlight. Gyutaro licks his lips – god, he wants to taste you so bad, his tastebuds tingling and his mouth literally salivating at the thought of tasting your lips, what’s between your legs, even your tears. Gyutaro’s hand slowly moves up, hand slicked with spit lessening the friction and making him lowly groan. The man slips a finger inside her, the woman’s small moan making the man’s brows twitch together.
Gyutaro’s careful to watch the man’s pacing – his tongue is licking steady, consistent circles over her clit, while his fingers are thrusting slowly, carefully, adding a second finger after a few moments. Would you like the same pacing? Gyutaro’s not sure, but the hand not diligently pumping at his cock beneath his pants mimics the same finger motion as the man, his tongue slipping out to mimic licking small circles. He matches the man’s pace, wide yellow eyes slowly starting to go half-lidded from the pleasure of his fingers wrapped around his girth.
Tell me what feels best, woman.
He’ll snarl, keeping an eye on the way the man tenses up but doesn’t stop his actions. The woman’s flushed, her eyes darting to him before quickly looking away.
When – ah, when he curls his fingers up, fuck, and little circles on – oh! She cuts herself off with a moan, and Gyutaro (irritated that she didn’t finish but too focused on her instructions) repeats the words over and over in his head, modifying the hand motion he’s practicing to closely resemble her descriptions.
His fist moves a bit faster, creating a deft thump motion each time his fingers bump into his navel. The sound of the man fingering the woman is so, so very lewd, too – it’s wet, a squelching noise that makes Gyutaro drool, the idea that you’d be that wet making his throat dry, his hips bucking forward against his fist involuntarily.
Fuck her, now, ngh…
The man gulps, wiping the woman’s slick off of his lips and chin, and Gyutaro feels a particularly large glob of precum dribble from his tip, the extra lubrication making his pleasure just that much sharper.
Start over her.
He instructs as the man moves to hover over her, nodding at the demon’s words and slotting himself between her legs. Gyutaro watches intently as the man grips the base of his cock, aligning his tip with your hole, pushing forward and letting his eyes roll to the back of his head. Gyutaro sucks in a sharp breath – would you feel that good inside? He's sure you would; you’re so pretty and sexy, of course you have the best cunt. He bets it’s incredibly warm, wet enough to leave his cock, navel, and upper thighs coated in no time, and god you’d be so fucking tight, gripping him hard enough to make pulling out of you nearly impossible-
The woman lets out a wanton moan as the man starts moving, the pace immediately fast and bruising. The sound of his balls clapping against her ass fills the room, and Gyutaro pants, his fist moving faster and faster, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. He transitions from moving his arm to thrusting his stationary fist, matching the man’s pacing and imagining it’s you getting fucked, that your cries are the ones ringing in his ears and it’s your pretty tits that are bouncing and jiggling with the force of the thrusts.
From behind – shit, from behind! He instructs, his voice strained with his impending orgasm.
The man listens, pulling out and carefully slipping her over, slipping back inside and listening to the way the woman cries out. Gyutaro’s eyes focus on her breasts as they sway and jiggle – you have a very similar size, and just the thought of him fucking you hard enough to get your tits moving makes his eyes flutter closed for a moment, eyebrows drawing tightly together at the thought.
This sight is even more erotic than the last position – it’s all too easy to imagine it’s him pulling at your hips, smacking his own against your ass again and again, making you feel him so deep, deep enough to get you chanting his name like a fucking prayer. Gyutaro moves forward and uses his free hand to grab the man’s, forcing his fingers into her hair and pushing her face down against the mattress, the new position making the man groan and the woman shudder.
Gyutaro curses, letting go and putting all his effort into fucking his fist to the same tempo, trying to match the man’s perfectly. He wants to fuck you like this, he decides – leaning over you like some sort of animal, mounting you, fucking you in the most raw, animalistic way.
You’d look so damn pretty, and he’s sure your pussy would make wet noises like hers is, your slick dripping down your thighs and your pleas to give you more more more please Gyutaro, need your cum!
Gyutaro gasps hard as cum sprays all along the inside of his pants, his fist slowing to a stop as he rides out his high, eyes half lidded and all sorts of groans and sharp exhales filling the room.
The couple stares, bewildered, unsure of what to do – he’s still fucking her but more gently, and Gyutaro smirks at them, still dazed from the pleasure and the idea of doing this to you. Licking his lips, he climbs onto the windowsill, glancing over his shoulder at them.
I’m coming back tomorrow night. He stares at the woman, a wide smile splitting across his features. You’re gonna show me how to suck cock right, yeah? Gotta make sure I can guide her when she-
He stops, swallowing, his cheeks still blushed from his orgasm and from the vulgar idea of you taking him down his throat.
Don’t you tell anyone about this, eh? I’ll find you, and I’ll kill you.
And with that, he’s gone, disappeared from the windowsill and leaving the man and woman to embrace each other, shaking in fear. Meanwhile, Gyutaro’s running from roof to roof, adrenaline filling his veins because he has to see you now – he’s too pent up, and he needs to see you in person. As expected, you’re asleep by the time he reaches your home, sitting on your window edge, licking his lips and breathing hard.
You’re so fucking pretty – he crawls closer, acutely aware to be quiet and not wake you. You’d fallen asleep on your futon, the blanket still neatly folded in the corner, and Gyutaro swallows before grabbing the cloth, pulling it over you and up to your chin, his hands trembling.
He sighs, his fingers itching to reach out and touch you, to bend you into the positions he’d seen the couples trying, but he refrains. He doesn’t want to wake you, doesn’t want you to be aware of his presence quite yet. He has to be patient, good – he’ll allow himself one pleasure, however, as he dips a finger inside his pants, scooping up some of his still warm cum and gently, gingerly smearing it across your lips, practically moaning at the sight of white against your skin.
You’re just so, so perfect – it almost makes him sick, but as he returns to the couple the next night, demanding the woman get on her knees, Gyutaro can’t help but shiver.
It may take him a while to actually touch you, but god, he’ll be ready.
FAVORITE BODY PARTS:
Your stomach
In general, one of the things that Gyutaro finds he adores about you as his obsession festers is how opposite the two of you are. Regardless of your weight, you are physically different from him – and Gyutaro notices this early on.
That is, his body is essentially just bone – skin stretched to cover his skeleton, while you have lovely warm, squishy skin covering your curves and pretty body. You’re so fucking soft – nothing on you can possibly be as hard as he is, and from the moment he first holds your waist with a slightly shaking hand he can’t help but notice this difference every time he looks at you.
He grows to love feeling the areas on you that hold the most squishiness, and his favorite place of all is your stomach. There’s something so relaxing about how warm the area is, your skin practically his personal hand warmer as he slides his hands into your kimono, his palms pressed snugly against your tummy.
They don’t move much; stationary, just simply feeling, the intention not inherently sexual. However, as you bring back small traces of his long-buried humanity, you also bring back traces of his libido, something that’s been noticeably gone throughout the duration of his time as a demon.
And so, as urges to kiss and touch you slowly begin seeping into his mind, Gyutaro slowly becomes fixated on the fact that you’re so fucking soft, the perfect thing for him to squeeze and lick and fuck until you’re crying and begging for more more more –
His sex drive isn’t monumental, but Gyutaro would be blatantly lying if he said he hasn’t fantasized about how soft you’d feel underneath him before, your pretty body on display for his greedy eyes.
He’s seen many humans naked, but the first time he sees you without any clothing on, his hands are immediately reaching out – and, surprisingly, heading directly for your stomach. His breaths come out harsher as he stares down at your exposed belly, the skin even softer somehow than when it touches it under your clothes.
As he starts regularly fucking you, get ready for his hands to always be gravitating towards your stomach, his fingers pressing into the soft fat while you writhe and squirm in his lap as he forces you up and down his cock, his eyes rolling back into his head while he practically drools.
He loses his composure during sex, and it’ll be more than apparent in the way he grasps onto your tummy like it’s his life line, as if you’re the only thing tethering him to Earth while his orgasm crashes over him.
And god, when he’s got you laying in front of him, your pretty legs parted to expose the soft, warm pussy he claims as his, Gyutaro uses your stomach as almost a pillow – he’s watching his fingers appearing and disappearing out of your cunt, your juices smeared across his pale skin as he rests his forehead on the softness of your lower belly.
His eyes are wide and unblinking, his lips parted in awe as he watches the way you just take them, your velvety walls clenching down repeatedly, hard enough to make his mouth water. He’s always leaving small kisses against your stomach after sex, an oddly sweet gesture that makes every bruise he leaves on your body from the rough fucking feeling slightly better.
It’s strange, his fascination, and at first you have the terrible, horrible fear that his obsession stems from wanting to grow his family with a child. It’s a terrifying thought, one you try to put out of your head, but eventually (after he forces you to tell him, his eyes turning dark and threatening as he demands you to tell me, don’t keep any secrets from me, ever) the fear is lost, as Gyutaro regretfully informs you that demons are infertile.
You’re relieved, but the question only seems to further ignite his obsession with your stomach – you’ll catch him speaking to it when you’re asleep, odd little confessions of if only I could… when you wake up.
Essentially, Gyutaro is obsessed with your tummy because it’s soft and squishy and fuck you’re so very pretty. 
His fingers 
Generally speaking, Gyutaro isn’t particularly fond of any specific body part of his own.
He’s proud of his ability to fight and destroy, but especially in the context of physical attractiveness, Gyutaro firmly believes what he’s always been told. He knows he’s unappealing; how could anyone ever like a monster with such a grotesque body and face?
It’s a cycle of self-deprecation that he’s found comfort in for most of his life, but once you appear, suddenly he’s wildly disappointed that he isn’t more handsome. He wishes he had a fuller figure, muscle spanning his chest and back, just like all those slayers he sees.
He wishes he had softer hair, a more symmetrical smile, less facial blemishes, everything.
He hates that he’s limited to human beauty ideals, but he can’t help it – how can he, when you’re around him looking so cute and adorable? You’re not perfect either (though he loves your imperfections perhaps more than anything else), but he wants to be perfect for you.
And so, while Gyutaro silently wallows in his self-misery, he slowly discovers that despite his lack of sexual experience and general understanding of human female anatomy, you seem to really, really like his fingers.
His nails were, initially, something you’d quickly stammered out a w-wait! to when he’d tried to shove a finger inside, and while he hadn’t appreciated your interruption, when you mentioned he could stab you and make you bleed with how sharp they were, he reluctantly digressed.
It’s not hard to bite off the excess sharpness of the nail, grinding them down to a roundness against the flesh of his finger, perfectly safe.
The first time he’d fingered you, Gyutaro was shocked at how impossibly warm, wet and tight you were inside. It was like touching velvet – so soft, your walls sucking him in and seeming to almost invite him inside, as if you wanted him there, like you didn’t want him to leave.
He’s staring transfixed at the way you take them, your pussy squelching as he slowly thrusts them in and out, your little squeals making his cheeks flush a very light pink. He loves the way you gasp when he curls them just so, brushing against the spongey spot he’s memorized as your favorite.
He loves to abuse the area; watching as your eyes squeeze closed, your fingers grasping onto his shoulders, your thighs tensing and clenching, your little cries of his name and yes – yes please ‘Taro, fuck please!
He loves how quickly he can get you falling apart with his fingers, how you’re reduced to nothing but a moaning, whimpering mess once he gets you below him. It boosts his confidence, and occasionally between thrusts inside, he’ll pull his fingers out and suck on them, his own little groan slipping out as he savors your taste, all musky and heavy.
And of course, once he discovers your clit, it’s over for you – he’s never leaving the small button alone, the bundle of nerves positively sore by the time he’s done with you. He’s rubbing small circles against it, drawing figure eights, writing the kanji for his name with the tip of his finger, anything he can to get your back arching up, your toes curling and your lips parting into that pretty ‘o’ he loves so much.
He’s constantly bewildered by just how much pleasure he can deliver you with only his hands, and so as he squeezes and gropes at your ass, breasts, stomach, anything and everything, just know that he’s feeling nearly as good as you are.
After all, those bandages as pants may be loose, but you can still see a very clear outline of just how excited he is – and just how much he’s enjoyed the way you’ve made a mess of his fingers, if the wet stain around said outline is any indicator. He just really, really likes using his fingers on you, so just let him, yeah?
DRIVE:
Gyutaro’s never been that horny. Having been turned into a demon while young, he’s never really experienced the human emotion of lust, his sexual urges having faded out from his teenage years to nearly nothing. He’s too consumed by other emotions – anger, jealousy, pity – to really focus on something so arbitrary, something so human.
And so, as a result of this repressed sexual drive Gyutaro doesn’t immediately begin lusting after you once his obsession with you begins to form. He isn’t desperate to fuck you the moment he realizes he feels some twisted form of love, nor does he want to touch you in any way that’s inherently sexual.
Instead, his urges to be with you and feel your skin are much, much more innocent in nature – of course, he’s still a man-eating monster, but he wants to touch your cheek just because it looks soft.
He wants to run his hands along your sides because you’re so small compared to his looming figure, and he wants to make sure that you’re real.
He wants to know how it feels to have you in his arms, because he’s seen human couples doing that and it’s a show of intimacy and connection between two people, and that’s what he wants to have with you.
As time passes, his urges towards you slowly begin moving towards the area of lusting, however. Soon he’s wanting to kiss you; his lips are always chapped, of course, and he’s sure his breath smells atrocious, but your lips look so soft and warm, like they’d be perfect to press against his own.
He imagines pressing you against his body as you kiss him, your hands resting against his chest as you sigh into his mouth, the human form of affection seeming so intimate and lovely and necessary.
It’s some long lost repressed human part of him driving these desires, but Gyutaro can’t find it in himself to care – especially not after the first time he sees you nude. He’s seen dozens of humans naked before; he lives in the Entertainment District after all, and when he’s devouring someone, he’s not particularly respectful with keeping them covered up.
However, there’s something different about you – maybe it’s because he feels so attached to you, or maybe it’s because he suddenly can’t stop thinking about how it would feel to embrace your naked body with his own, free of any fabric separating the both of you while he indulges in your warmth, softness, the plush skin of your body.
He’s not sure, but regardless, after that moment suddenly all those sexual feelings leftover from his time as a human come rushing back to him – he’s hard without even realizing it, his eyes bulging out of their sockets as he simply stares, his expression going dumb.
You’re uncomfortable with it, he can tell by the way you avoid his gaze, but he can’t find it in himself to care – you’re so beautiful, perfect for him in every possible way. And so, after that night, Gyutaro finds himself inching closer and closer towards the final level of intimacy, pushing the boundaries just a bit more each night until he’s eventually got you perched in his lap, his hands placed on your hips.
You’re both naked, your breasts placed tantalizingly close, close enough to be able to reach out and wrap his lips around your nipple, to suck and watch you keen, to maybe even sigh out his name…
He’s rendered mute by your pussy the first time he fucks you, truly too pussydrunk to really even think, as embarrassing as it is. The big, strong Gyutaro falls so easily to your body – one clench and he’s shuddering, every nerve in his body on fire as he tries not to come quite yet – only lasting thirty seconds is wildly embarrassing, and while you’d never poke fun at him for fear of dying, Gyutaro grits his teeth and tries to hold on to his dignity.
And so, sex with you becomes a regular craving for the demon. His urges aren’t too unbearable, and he only ever acts on it a few nights a week, but be prepared because Gyutaro will fuck you, and you will like it – he'll make sure you come, and doesn’t that mean you’re enjoying yourself?
But until he gather up enough courage to actually fuck you, Gyutaro takes baby steps. He can’t do too much all at once – he gets too overwhelmed, too shy and embarrassed because you’re looking at him, your pretty eyes and face and voice giving him attention. It makes his lips go numb, anxiously scratching at his arms and struggling to meet your gaze because god he wants to touch you and hear you moan his name, but how does one go about that, exactly?
Sure, he knows the basics of sex and has watched couples initiate it, but it’s different with you. It’s different because Gyutaro isn’t stupid – he knows you’re afraid of him, that he’s too grotesque and ugly for you to ever really want to be intimate with, and these thoughts make it hard for him to just take what he wants from you.
And so, he starts small – he'll touch you a little more, fingertips pressing hard into your sides when he ghosts his hands there, trying to be gentle but struggling to regulate his strength because you’re so close to him.
He’ll let his fingers brush over your hair, never enough for you to feel but just enough for the texture to become familiar, always bringing his fingers up to his nose and smelling them afterwards, something between a growl and a moan slipping from his lips at the scent.
He’ll reach out and lightly, oh so lightly press his thumb against your cheek, marveling at how soft your skin is and how warm it is, mumbling something under his breath about how you’re too pretty, how it makes him sick that you’re too damn pretty.
His breathing will be a little unsteady when his does this, those yellow eyes of his glancing between your own and your lips, contemplating in a way that he thinks is much more subtle than it actually is.
He wants all sorts of human intimacy with you, and the next thing that he wants to tackle is kissing you. The idea is strange to him - why do humans press their mouths together? It must feel good, but why? He’s curious, but touching you has such an effect on him, so surely tasting you would suck the air right out of his lungs, leaving his knees feeling weak and making pink bloom across his cheeks.
He doesn’t ask you for permission, instead one day coming to sit beside you against the wall of the lair, that familiar concentrated look in his eye. He’ll ask you some question whose answer he doesn’t care about – just to see your lips moving, watching with sharp eyes how your tongue contorts and moves inside your mouth, sometimes flicking out to lick at your lips, the sight almost making him whimper.
Soon, he can’t just watch – he’s rushing forward without any warning, pressing against you with a level of force that makes you yelp. His lips are dry and cracked (despite him having licked them excessively in preparation for this moment, wishing to make them as soft and pleasant as possible), and they’re not moving – he’s staying perfectly still, eyes wide open and staring at you.
It scares you, because while you know what he’s doing, the experience is anything but pleasant. He stays like that for a few moments, before slowly, very slowly moving, his lips clumsy and unsure as they work at you. It feels like he’s trying to eat you – his tongue and teeth stay firmly inside his mouth, but his lips keep trying to fit more and more of you into his mouth at once, saliva smearing across bits of your cheek and chin.
You’re still completely frozen, unsure of what to do, and Gyutaro pulls back, scowling. It had felt good – in a strange way, a way that made something in his stomach feel tight and warm, but he’s sure it would feel much better if you were participating too, if you’d actually kiss him back. Don’t just sit there, he’ll warble to you, not willing to actually ask you to kiss him back, his pride barring him from practically begging for what he wants.
(Though as your sexual relationship progresses, this pride slowly withers away and dies – to the point where he’ll get on his knees and beg for you to open your pretty mouth and suck him off, because even though he could force you easily, it always feels better when you consent, when you at pretend to actually want him.)
This time, as he leans in, your lips move too, trying to match his awkward kisses. Gyutaro groans at that, leaning further against you, the weight causing you to fall backwards, lying flat on your back. You’d pulled away from the kiss during the fall, and as Gyutaro stares down at you hungrily, he swallows, sucking through his teeth harshly and trying to get every drop of your saliva down his throat. You must really, really want him, huh?
The sight simultaneously flusters and flatters him, and before you can say a word he’s scrambling over you, pressing his lips against yours harshly, with vigor, his tongue slipping out and practically forcing its way down your throat. You just taste so fucking good – it's addictive, and the knowledge that you’d laid down for him, wanting him to hover over you and mimic sex making his head swim. He’s breathing hard through his nose, almost wheezing, and you quickly shut your eyes, not wanting to look at his still wide-open ones.
He kisses you for a long, long time – easily thirty minutes, not tiring of the feeling, his tongue still actively rubbing against yours, tracing every tooth and managing to dip into every crevice in your mouth, each new area making him groan and get just a hair more desperate.
When he eventually pulls away, he licks your lips and smiles shakily, a hand coming down to pet at your hair. Next time, will you take you shirt off? It probably grosses you out, huh, that request?
And when you nod with wide eyes, too scared to say no, Gyutaro will exhale slowly, nodding and muttering a series of slurred good’s and your name under his breath, before stalking off out of the lair. Once out of your sight he’s stopping, a hand coming up to scratch at the area right over his heart, his face morphing into something between despair and prevenance.
You’re just so damn pretty – he can’t handle the sight of you, and the image of you laid out before him, looking up at him with those eyes makes every muscle in his body tense, that familiar warm feeling in his groin growing tighter and tighter, and as a hand snakes down to palm at the now very noticeable and wet bulge in his pants, Gyutaro decides that he needs to speed this process up.
He doesn’t know how much longer he can take holding himself back – not if touching you and tasting you and making you gasp feel this good.
(Later that night, as he hovers over your sleeping form and tugs near painfully on his cock, Gyutaro decides that the next step can happen right then and there – you’d look so good with his cum smeared all across your face, wouldn’t you?)
MAIN THREE KINKS:
Praise
While Gyutaro has a difficult time believing your compliments initially, with time he grows much more willing (and desperate) to indulge in your sweet words.
Your kind praises of his caring actions – no matter how forced the words are – have him melting inside, his heart pounding in his chest while he struggles to hold your gaze. He reverts to a bit of a teenage boy in moments where you compliment him – and during sex?
Well, Gyutaro nearly passes out the first time you compliment his body. It takes so much courage for him to show you himself nude, if only because he’s so scared of the way you’ll react. What if you think he’s ugly, or weird, or repulsive? What if you wince at the sight of him, or cower when he tries to touch you or make you touch him?
He’s so scared, so when you run your hands along his arms and tell him he’s handsome, he’s staring at you with wide eyes. He’s simultaneously hateful and in love with the vulnerability you make him feel, so please, please compliment him during sex.
He needs the validation that you like him, that he’s making you feel good, and while he’ll never actually say it aloud, your words turn him on more than you know. Just hearing his name roll off your tongue has his eyes rolling backwards, his fingers twitching with the urge to touch you, to feel your soft skin. He loves when you tell him sweet things about his body; tell him he’s attractive, that you love how strong he is, that you love how muscular his arms are.
Tell him his eyes are pretty, that you love tunneling your fingers through his hair while he fucks you with his tongue, that you love the way his fingers stretch you out and get you seeing stars.
Compliment the things that he does in bed; tell him that you love how he growls and bites at your neck with those sharp teeth of his, that you love when he manhandles you and grunts into your ear as he rolls his hips into yours.
And of course, tell him how he makes you feel – he’ll groan your name and his hips will stutter if you say his cock feels so – so good Gyutaro, mm please! Need more, need more of you –
Tell him that he feels so good inside of you, that he’s going to make you come because it’s all too much, and you’ll see him physically freeze up, his eyes wide and a bit of drool slipping from the corner of his mouth because god, are you talking about him?
Moan his name and make a show of writhing around underneath him, arching your back and gasping out that he’s so big! T’s too much Gyu, gonna make me come!
Tell him anything and everything that comes to your mind, the more depraved the better. He likes to hear you become reduced to incoherent whimpers because of him, and with each praise that slips past your lips, Gyutaro feels his confidence slowly rise until he’s fucking into you with reckless abandon.
He’ll be bearing his teeth and whispering the filthiest things into your ear, the confidence boosting his system like nothing else. He’s calling you his, possessive petnames right and left as he practically abuses your cunt with his cock, pounding into you with such fervor that it’s almost like he’s trying to mold your pussy into the shape of his cock.
He’s demanding you tell him how he feels; growls of tell me what you want me to do to you filling the space between you, the panting breaths and moans rushing into the empty air. He’s telling you to take it, f-fuck, so damn tight, do I make you this tight, huh?
He wants you to mindlessly agree, to clutch onto his body and squeeze around him, milking him for absolutely everything he can give to you until you’re spasming around his cock, coming all over him and whimpering underneath him, your pretty eyes staring up at him with tears beading in your lashes from the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving to you.
And if you were to worship any part of his body?
He’s not sure what you’re doing at first – why are you sinking to your knees and moving so slowly in front of him? You’re taking your time with his cock, letting your eyes gaze over every single inch of him, the attention making his neck flush and embarrassing him. And yet, he doesn’t stop you – because when you whisper out that he’s so pretty, I love your cock Gyutaro, he nearly malfunctions, his nails digging into his palms as his hips involuntarily jerk, his cock bobbing slightly with the motion.
He wants you to kiss every inch of him, to suckle on his tip and let your tongue dip into his hypersensitive slit, the sensation making him gasp sharply and his eyes close tightly.
He wants you to gently fondle his balls, to whisper against his skin in between licks against his shaft that you wanna taste you, can I please taste you Gyu? Wanna make you come, you look so pretty when you do…
He’ll let you do anything you damn well please when you’ve got him like this – his eyes are watching your every move, his breath hitched, his heart fluttering in his chest as his orgasm comes much too soon, the emotional weight of your words and adoring actions making him desperate to give you the cum you claim you need.
He just really, really likes when you give him positive attention in the bedroom, so please narrate everything you’re feeling. He wants to know every possible detail, and he’ll strive to keep touching and pleasing you until you’re screaming his name and a jumbled, slurred series of yes and please and I love you. 
Breast Fixation
Gyutaro, to put it lightly, develops a sort of fascination with your chest. He has no sexual experience with women, and consequently has neither felt nor seen a living, naked woman’s breasts before.
Of course, he’s been curious; victims he’s in the middle of devouring who’s clothing has slipped down in the process of his meal, where their tits are hanging out of the fabric, looking soft and supple and perfect to touch. He’ll reach out and halfheartedly squeeze, but the dead flesh isn’t the same as a living, breathing woman’s – besides, his hunger is too strong for him to really process how soft, pliable, and squishy it is.
And so, once he has you, someone to fantasize about and imagine naked (frequently), Gyutaro is suddenly very interested in seeing what you look like shirtless. He’s always paid close attention to the way your chest looks in your kimonos; the fabric tightening through there, as if your breasts were practically begging to be freed, exposed to the world and awaiting eyes like his.
He’s always noticed the way your top exposes the line of your cleavage when you bend down to pick something up, your tits pressed together by your arms while he gets a front row seat that leaves his pants feeling tight and his throat dry.
Before he steals you away, frequent nights are spent with the image of you straddling his lap playing through his mind. He’ll imagine the way you’d shimmy out of your top, exposing your breasts to his greedy eyes, the soft flesh sitting only a few tantalizing inches away from his face.
He’d focus in on your nipples, imagining the way they’d slowly pebble from the cold air, growing tight and taut while he’s left to drool, his fingers begging to reach out and pinch, twist, and pull. He’ll imagine the way you’d look down at him with a soft smile, cupping his cheeks and asking in that soft, breathy whisper of yours if he’d touch them please Gyutaro, I want you to play with me…
He wouldn’t need to be told twice, his hands immediately reaching up to cautiously grope and squeeze.
He’s nervous at first, his touches hesitant, but as he wraps a hand around your left breast and squeezes lightly, the sigh you make in response has him gulping and squeezing harder, his other hand following suit until he’s massaging and groping at your tits like they’re his personal stress balls.
He’s painfully hard below you, his cock desperate for stimulation, but as you push his head closer to your breasts he nearly loses his mind; he’s quick to envelope a nipple into his mouth, closing his eyes while he sucks and licks at the bud as you hum and praise him, little whispers of mmm, just like that baby going straight to his cock.
He twitches with every little keen you make, and this fantasy carries over into his sex life with you. Very, very early on you’ll notice that he’s always staring at your tits whenever you’re intimate with him.
When he’s bathing you, he’s staring and gulping, not doing well to hide the way he’s very clearly ogling.
When you’re changing, he’s quickly glancing away after you catch him stealing looks at you, his cheeks pink as he holds his hands over the tent slowly forming in his pants.
And once you start fucking?
Well, you’ve noticed his fascination, and you’ll capitalize on it. Grab his cock and trace your nipples with the tip, and just watch the way he shivers, his eyes unable to look away while he whispers a gravelly fuck under his voice.
Play with your tits as you wait for him to undress, pouting up at him and begging him to hurry up, to come fuck you please, you’re too horny to wait.
Push your breasts together and ask him to fuck them, telling him it’ll feel so good, and how you want him to leave his cum all over the soft skin.
Purposefully bounce more than you actually need when he fucks you while you’re on your back, so that the fat jiggles even more and watch the way his eyes widen, his pupils dilating as he fucks into you with new fervor.
Grope and squeeze at them as he hovers over you in missionary, and you’ll feel the way his thrusts grow faster, harder, more desperate, his eyes trained on the way you work at the soft, supple flesh.
The root of his love for your breasts really comes from just how soft they are; he’s not used to anything as welcoming or comforting as your chest, and when you let him rest his head there, fall asleep behind you with a hand cupping one, letting him idly suckle at a nipple as you card your fingers through his hair, how can Gyutaro not grow to love them?
And love them he will – the copious amounts of love marks, bruises and hickeys littering the sensitive skin will make his obsession more than obvious, as will the way he essentially creams his pants the first time his fingers brush against them.
The large stain against the fabric and the slack-jawed, red-faced expression he gives you will have you more than aware that just a simple flash of your tits will leave Gyutaro puddy in your hands, willing to do anything for you.
Hand Holding
It’s not really a kink, but as your sexual relationship with Gyutaro progresses, you’ll find that more often than not he manages to snake his hand into yours. When he’s fucking you in missionary, hips smacking against you fast and hard, he’s holding your hands above your head, gritting his teeth and whining in your ear because you’re too – too fucking tight, shit, ‘m gonna come, you want that? You want my cum in you?
He’ll start off with his hand wrapped around your wrist, but as the sex continues and he gets closer to his orgasm, he’ll switch to interlacing his fingers with yours, pressing your hand hard against the mattress, the tendons in his hands and forearms flexing as his abs and balls clench up, warm cum flooding your cunt and leaving him gasping your name.
When he’s got you bent over, pretty ass on display as he stuffs you full with his cock, he’ll lean over you, a large hand covering one of yours, dwarfing yours and overwhelming you even more, his body literally covering every inch of yours.
Even when perched on top of him, grinding against him and biting your lip because it feel so very good, he’ll alternate between cupping the globes of your ass and catching your hand, clutching it in his hand as he tries to keep his grounding and not come too quickly.
Frankly, it’s almost unconscious – he doesn’t actively realize it’s happening until you point it out to him, in which case he’ll grow defensive, telling you that you’re wrong and mistaken, embarrassed to admit that he naturally does something so human, so weak and gentle.
But really, it’s just another way to extend the intimacy with you – you’re so pretty and sweet and so very lovely, and though he’s kidnapped you and forced you into some twisted form of a relationship with him, there’s something about the moments where he’s inside of you that leaves him feeling fuzzy, warm, wanted. And perhaps it’s the centuries of neglect and self-hatred that lead him to desperately chase that feeling of security and acceptance, or perhaps it’s just natural instinct left over from his human days.
Regardless, Gyutaro will almost exclusively only ever orgasm if your hand is somehow touching his – he needs that intimacy to let himself finish, emptying himself inside of you while clutching onto you, keeping you there and steady and still, stopping you from squirming away or escaping when he’s trying to give you his cum, gifting you with the most intimate, personal thing he could. And when he’s coming, he’s squeezing at your hand, hard.
The pleasure is just so overwhelming, and he needs something to grasp onto, something to keep him grounded and keep him from rutting into you and humping you into overstimulation, his cries and warbled moans sounding pitiful. He doesn’t mean to crush your hand, but sometimes he’ll hold so tightly that you wind up with big finger-shaped bruises across your palms and the back of your hands, the sight making Gyutaro ashamed because he hadn’t meant to hurt you, but also pleased because now he’s marked you.
There’ll be a constant reminder of him every time you look down at your hands, every time you do basic tasks or touch things. It's a thought that makes him weirdly smug, and so while Gyutaro will often try to deny your accusations of him always holding your hand during sex, but he knows it’s true.
(But really, you should be grateful it’s just your hand – at least it’s not your throat, where he’s much likelier to lose control.)
But even outside of when he orgasms, Gyutaro really, really likes to hold your hands. His favorite time to consciously do it is when he’s got you perched in his lap, his chin resting on your shoulder while you lean back against his chest.
He’ll want you fully nude so that he’s free to explore and roam your body with his hands, occasionally pinching at your stomach or groping at your breast. He wants you sat on his cock, the hard length nestled inside of you while you both simply bask in each other’s presence, him turning to bury his nose against your neck and deeply inhaling, his cock twitching inside of you.
Gyutaro grows a penchant for cockwarming with you as time goes by, because while he doesn’t always want to fuck you (though it’s not too terribly difficult to persuade him – just say please and he’s putty in your hands, so frantic to get his cock out that he’s ripping at the bandages of his pants) there’s something about the intimacy of being inside you but just cuddling you or holding you that satisfies his clinginess.
Plus, this way he can indulge in the feeling of your cunt in a non-sexual way – you’re just so warm and inviting, taking his breath away every time without fail, the sensation so lovely and foreign to him that he wants to spend every possible moment inside of you, even if he’s not fucking you stupid. And the whole time he's lodged inside you like this, his fingers are wrapped around yours, marveling at the size different and tracing the lines and patterns on your hand.
They’re just so much softer and better than his – so innocent and not capable of so much death and destruction as his. You’re just so cute, in a way that makes him crazy, and he’d be stupid to not take advantage of having someone like you to touch and taste and share his best.
And Gyutaro is many things, but stupid is not one of them.
OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:
Cock Worship
Although Gyutaro isn’t an inherently selfish lover, he can’t deny that having you fawn over him gets him hot under the collar, his pants growing uncomfortably tight and his mouth feeling dry. There’s just something about the idea of you worshipping him that gets him equal parts mortified and horribly aroused.
To have all of your attention on him in a non-sexual context steals his breath away, making him struggle to seem interesting and cool and attractive, even if he knows he isn’t. And so, in a sexual context this is only amplified – he wants you to like him, to find his body and him generally attractive, and to have you blatantly doing that during sex would make his head spin, embarrassment eating him alive even as he enjoys every second of it.
And to have you worship any part of his body is wonderful, but to have you worship between his legs?
Well, his cock’s not especially pretty, and he knows it – it’s long, long enough that it’s right on the border between hurting and pleasurable when he sinks inside all the way to the hilt. It’s sensitive, always leaking precum so it’s sticky and wet and glistening, with a set of heavy, swollen balls sprinkled with black hairs hung right below.
It’s intimidating and will leave you a bit nervous of how he’ll possibly fit inside of you, but Gyutaro’s eyes roll to the back of his head when he sees and feels your fingers wrap around him, pumping and flicking your wrist at the tip, the sensation of you jerking him off making his hips buck up into the air.
Having you give him long, slow, lazy pumps of your fist while you list off all the reasons you love his cock in between sloppy, wet kisses would have Gyutaro coming in mere minutes, the attention and praise going directly between his legs.
When you’re on your knees in front of him, make him shudder and flush by gripping him, making a show of licking from the base to the tip, suckling on the swollen, red tip and flicking your tongue against his slit, dipping in slightly and feeling the way he throbs in your mouth.
Move down to fondle and suck at his balls – if you’re able to fit a whole one in your mouth, you’ll hear a strangled s-stop, stop stop stop ‘m gonna come too fast, the pleasure literally too much for him to handle.
Give him the erotic sight of you tracing the outline of your lips with his tip, smearing precum all over them so that they’re glistening with a clear, off-white sheen. Rub the outside of your cheek against his length while you stare up at him, licking your lips and smiling, and you’ll literally see his face turning red, his sharp teeth biting at his lip and drawing blood because fuck, you’re so sexy and provocative and having you say that you love his cock is making his heart flutter.
And when he’s inside you, thrusting in and out and making you clench and tighten up, purposefully flex the muscles, making everything tighter and more intense, telling him that he deserves the tightest you can offer, and feel the way he immediately busts inside of you, the groan that forces its way past his lips sounding pained and desperate and pathetic.
 Which brings us to another major facet of his enjoyment of cock worship – please worship his cum. It’s a bit runny and thin, shooting out of him in long spurts, always wickedly warm and getting absolutely everywhere. Let him come inside you – whine out a  please give it to me Gyutaro, need you to come for me, please please want your cum!
He’s stuffing you full every time he fucks you, those yellow eyes of his eagerly watching it ooze out of you after he’s pulled out. When you’re sucking and licking at him, let him push your head as far down as you can go, sending rope after rope down your throat, his nails digging into your scalp as he gives a few sad last spurts, only a drop or so managing to hit your tongue.
Let him pull out of your mouth and give himself a few good tugs, cum splattering all over your face while he groans your name and a slurred take it. Lick it off your lips and look up at him with cum all over your cheeks and chin, and you’ll see the way he snarls and throws you onto the makeshift bed he shares with you, immediately ripping your thighs apart and diving into you like a man starved, the wet noises of his tongue diving between your folds absolutely depraved.  
You’re just so, so very wonderful when you’re worshipping him, so please do – one the bright side, it’s the absolute fastest way to get him to come, just as long as you sound like you really mean it.
Spitting
This kink is one that takes both you and Gyutaro by surprise. It happens very suddenly, and it takes a moment for both of you to process exactly what’s happened, Gyutaro’s spit sitting against your tongue and tasting like him.
It’s a manifestation of his possessiveness over you – you’re his. His little human, his lovely woman, his pretty cunt to touch and fuck and bury himself inside of for hours on end. And so, when he’s got you folded into a mating press, strong arms keeping your thighs pinned to your chest with absolutely no wiggle room, your face all screwed up in pleasure and your occasional gasps of his name, how can Gyutaro not want to mark you as his?
You’ll find that he often uses those possessive nicknames for you in the bedroom too, always going on and on about how you’re his girl, his cunt, his love.
And really, spitting in your mouth and on you is just a natural progression of this sentiment. He starts off with spitting onto your breasts – a glob of saliva landing on a sensitive nipple, making everything slick as he pinches and toys with the area, hearing you keen above him.
Then it’ll transition to him spitting onto your collarbone, rubbing the wetness over the bone, leaning down to suck dark hickeys against your skin, getting the area even more sticky with his saliva.
He’ll move on to spitting directly onto your cunt after that, spreading your pretty folds and letting the spit land right over your quivering hole, loving the way you jerk slightly at the weird sensation. It makes it easier when he fingers you, just that extra layer of wetness making his fingers glide in and out of you, pulling moans and whines from your lips.
He’ll spit at your asshole when he’s got you bent over, thumb rubbing against the hole and only slightly dipping in, enjoying the way you yelp and get all tense.
It’s only after he’s grown comfortable with spitting all over your body that he finally ends up seeing your open mouth under him as he fucks you with fast, harsh thrusts, hovering above you and staring down at you without blinking. He’ll spit directly onto your tongue, staring with panting breaths, before telling you in that familiar strained voice to swallow, his eyes watching the way your throat bobs as you do what he says.
It’s hot, really – the kind of thing that makes his cock twitch and bob, the idea that you have his saliva inside of you making something in his gut sit pleasantly.
And if you were to spit in his mouth, Gyutaro would actually fucking whimper. He wants you to be possessive over him, to want him all to yourself, to think of him as yours – and if you were to be riding him, hips clapping against his as you milk him for everything he’s worth, Gyutaro would gladly open his mouth wide, waiting with baited breath and shut eyes to feel your warm spit against his tongue. He’ll swallow for you, even opening his mouth again in case you’re feeling generous and want to give him more.
He just thinks it’s hot, and he’d be more than willing to bring spitting into your non-sexual lives too – it’s just so intimate and meaningful, don’t you agree?
BIGGEST FANTASY:
As a general rule, Gyutaro is a massive fan of touching you.
There’s quite literally nothing about your body or yourself that could ever turn him off; he thinks every inch of you is exquisite, no matter what your personal qualms may be. And because he thinks of you as something so wonderful and sweet and his, he finds everything that your body does equally as arousing as your pretty face.
 And so, while he’s never given it much thought, the moment he smells blood in the air around you, he’s immediately fighting off both his appetite and the intense fear coursing through him because why the fuck are you bleeding?
He’s not sure what’s going on initially, until he follows the blood source and finds it to be between your trembling legs. You’re scared, understandably, at why he’s so suddenly yanking your legs apart, eyes boring right into your crotch, but when he starts ripping at the cloth covering you, there’s not much you can do.
And so, once you explain what’s going on after his frantic why are you bleeding is asked in a panicked voice, suddenly Gyutaro is stiffening up, his thoughts running wild. He’d always been just slightly curious – you smell so sweet, and while there’s no part of him that desires to eat you, there’s something about the way your blood smells, the way you smell…
He quickly learns that having sex with you while you’re on your period is his absolute favorite. You’re so sensitive and pliable, your face screwing up at even the slightest presses of his fingers against your clit, your pussy always wet with blood, easy to slip his fingers in and out of.
He loves it, and the way your smell grows even more pronounced during this time has his head spinning, and fuck the taste –
He thinks he’s lost his mind the first time his lips touch your pussy with a smear of your blood across it, the sweet and metallic taste making his hips involuntarily jerk, his orgasm dangerously close already.
He’s always, always willing to pleasure you while you’re menstruating, to the point where he’s actively offering once he smells that familiar tinge of metal in the air, practically begging you with those half lidded eyes to let me make you feel good, yeah? I’ll be gentle, or at least I’ll try.
He’s careful with his motions at first, though it doesn’t last long – his fingers press into your thighs, nails dangerously close to piercing the skin, while his tongue laps at your cunt like a man starved.
Besides, aren’t orgasms healthy for women, especially during this time of the month? He’s heard so from the other Oirans (in hushed, embarrassed whispers), and what kind of a lover would he be if he didn’t attempt to take care of your every need? 
You winced, the cramps in your lower stomach making shifting your sitting position difficult. Your period had arrived very suddenly – it was just starting, and a quick swipe of your fingers below your panties had you sighing in frustration. The dank light of the lair was bright enough to show the red stain of your fingers as you retracted your hand, and with a dejected sloop of your shoulders you leaned back against the dirt wall. Eyes closed, you let your arms wrap around your stomach, resigned to the knowledge that you’ll bleed out through your clothes and onto the dirt ground below before you’d ever ask Gyutaro for sanitary supplies. 
Not that he’d say no – although, maybe that scared you more. 
Daki scrunched up her nose as she registered the smell, sending you a look. “What’s that stench?”
You bit your lip, quickly apologizing. “I’m sorry, it should be over in…” 
Unsure of how much Daki knew of menstruation, you left the question unanswered, instead wincing as another cramp rolled through. She grunted, her brow twitching as she crossed her arms. “Aren’t you going to answer me?”
You glanced at her, begging with your eyes for her to leave it alone, and despite her scowl, she merely sighed and pivoted on her heel, jumping up to race out of the lair and into the night air far above. You sighed as well, closing your eyes and relaxing as much as you could. 
Your relaxation was cut short, however, as a loud bang and a voice wailed out, “Why is there blood? What’s going on?”
Gyutaro had arrived, and as you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of him rushing forward, grabbing a knee in each hand and spreading your legs with a surprising amount of force. 
“From here…” He muttered, head leaning down as his gaze focused on your clothed pussy, the kimono and underwear you’d been dressed in earlier that day already seeped through with blood. The red stained the fabric, sending Gyutaro into a further state of panic. 
Nails dug into his neck and chest as he stared wildly at you, leaning deeply into your personal space as he growled, “What happened?”
You shrank back, stuttering out, “I – I’m menstruating.”
Gyutaro blinked, his breath heavy with the panic still running through him. “What?”
“I’m menstruating. I’m okay, I’m – I’m not injured.” Your voice was weak, but Gyutaro didn’t seem to notice. 
“What is menstruation?” He asked, the scratching sound of his fingers against his neck still prominent in your ears. “Well?”
“It’s um, a sign that I’m fertile…” You whispered, fear squeezing at your heart. 
Gyutaro stared at you for a moment, before glancing down between your legs. “Are you in pain? Does it hurt?”
You shook your head, hoping he’d believe the lie. 
A moment passed, before he visibly gulped. He slowly lied down on his stomach, his hands frozen for a second before suddenly ripping at your clothing. The area surrounding your pussy was ripped off, exposing yourself to the cold air as you gasped and shivered. The sudden motions were over before you can blink, Gyutaro’s eyes trained on your bloodstained folds. 
He looked like a child in a candy store; dilated pupils, his breathing heavy, lips parted enough to allow drool to pool at the edges. You closed your eyes, willing yourself to not flinch when he was this close to you, especially as you saw his razor sharp teeth. 
You yelped when a finger reached out to very lightly brush over your pussy, his skin just barely grazing your own. You bit your lip. 
He repeated his ministration, adding a bit more pressure. A moan slipped past your lips as his finger passed over your clit, and immediately you clamped a hand over your mouth, eyes wide as his gaze snaped back up to you. His face was bright red, you realized, the blush heavy over his cheeks as licked at his lips. With his gaze still locked on yours, he pressed back on that same spot, your clit oversensitive and making you lowly groan, your thighs involuntarily jerking as he began rubbing up and down the area. 
“G-gyutaro…” You whined out, tucking your lower lip under your teeth as you lightly squirmed. He watched with rapt attention. You seemed to be enjoying yourself – do you like being touched while you’re ‘menstruating’? As long as you weren’t injured with all this blood – this blood, that was such an intoxicating, delicious scent, the best thing he’s ever smelled. 
With a small, wobbly smile up at you, Gyutaro suddenly dove in, lips pressing against your folds as you gasped and jerked your hips, sending him in even deeper so that his nose brushed against your clit. You gasped his name, encouraging him to dart his tongue out, your blood immediately registered on his taste buds. His eyes blew wide, his hips jerking forward against the ground, the sudden wave of arousal because of your scent making his knees feel weak. He moaned around your skin, his tongue eagerly licking and getting to work against your sensitive skin. 
Groans and whimpers vibrated against you, his sounds rivaling your own as you moaned and reached a hand down to run through his hair. Gyutaro’s grip on your thighs tightened at the feeling, and when you tugged a bit at the roots, the growl that left his lips had your pussy clenching around nothing. 
“Gyu-“ You started, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensitivity of his tongue on you. It was too much – the pleasure too acute, but as a hand left the plush of your thighs and instead snaked down to press against your clit, you gasped. 
A strangled moan slipped past your lips as Gyutaro worked his finger in circles against your bundle of nerves, his tongue still licking and slurping against your folds. The combination of the stimulation had your head spinning, the sensation nearly too much, and as you whined out his name and dug your fingers even more harshly against his scalp, Gyutaro couldn’t help but moan in response. 
You tasted so fucking good – the best blood he’s ever feasted on. Sweet, yet savory, a taste entirely your own. His cock was achingly hard in his pants, pressing against the bandaged cloth as he ground his hips against the dirt floor of the lair, the pressure not nearly enough to relieve the terrible ache. He wanted more more more – more of you, more of your perfect little pussy, more of the sounds slipping past your lips, more of the taste of your blood. 
Soon you were shaking, thighs trembling as your orgasm crashed through you, your head throwing back as you cried out, slick and blood mixed together on Gyutaro’s tongue, chin and fingers. His thumb never stopped its motions, continuing the bliss as you slowly came down from your high, your clit nearly rubbed raw as the overstimulation began hitting you. 
Squirming, you tried to push his head away from your cunt, but Gyutaro’s growl had you stopping quickly. 
Pulling back slightly (only enough to speak), Gyutaro warned in a low voice out of breath, “Don’t move, stay still or I’ll make you come so much you cry.”
You only gulped and nodded, the feeling of his nails pressing into your thigh making you shiver, your hips jerking at the overwhelming sensation of Gyutaro’s ministrations. 
“Tastes so good, so so so good –“ Gyutaro moaned, the sound muffled against your skin as he gulped and sucked at your pussy, nearly making out with your delicate folds. You whined, squeezing your eyes shut tightly – it was too much. 
But for Gyutaro, it’d never be enough; after all, how could he let such a delicacy between your legs be taken for granted? Especially when you looked so pretty all panting and bloody once he’d fucked you with his tongue, fingers and cock more times than you could count.
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barcaatthemoon · 2 months
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good girl || mary earps x reader ||
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you get worked up after mary praises you on the field.
"good girl." the words had slipped out whenever you were on the pitch with mary. it was nice being so close to each other on game days, but occasionally, it got distracting. mary yelling out directions at the backline was hot. the praise you had received for blocking out a shot was even hotter.
you were grateful to be subbed out when you were because all you could think about was mary saying that in a different context. the two of you hadn't explored much in the bedroom, content with your sex life already. mary wasn't necessarily boring, but she did like to stick to what she knew. just like you wouldn't consider yourself kinky, just someone who went along with whatever their partners were into.
inside the locker room, you were definitely guilty of rushing mary out of there. it was a home game, so the two of you could just go back to her place. she had driven you to the game anyway. the two of you always spent the night together before and after games. it was rare that either of you even wanted to spend any time at your own apartments all alone.
"what was gotten into you?" mary laughed as she got into the car with you. usually, you would have been more careful about who could have been watching, but you really wanted mary. instead of answering her verbally, you grabbed onto the collar of her shirt and pulled her in for a kiss.
mary moaned into the kiss as your tongue swiped past her lips. she was always so eager to taste you inside of her mouth. you dropped your head just a little, but not enough to break the kiss. mary's hand moved to the back of your head, cradling it as she deepened the kiss. you were certain that the two of you could have gone a lot further if it wasn't for one of your teammates honking their horn at you.
"fuck, mary, we need to get home," you told her. the light chuckle died in mary's throat as she realized how badly you wanted her. she swallowed as she shifted the car into drive.
you had your hands on her the entire drive. mary was definitely speeding a bit, but she used the roads that she knew were clear to get home. she pulled into the first spot that she saw close to the doors. the two of you got out of the car, and mary didn't let you get more than a couple of steps onto the sidewalk before she was scooping you up into her arms and hauling you over her shoulder. it wasn't done in a sexy way at all, but you still felt a bit of heat pool in between your legs at her showing of strength.
"what the hell has gotten into you?" mary questioned again. you were laying on the bed in front of her. your eyes were wide as you looked up at her, pupils blown wide with lust. mary took a step closer to you to reach out and brush her thumb across your bottom lip. "talk to me. are you upset?"
"not at all," you told her. mary looked a little skeptical, but she trusted you not to lie to her. "i just want you to fuck me, mary. i want you to fuck me hard and fast while you tell me how good of a girl i am for you, please."
mary was rendered speechless at how forward you were. she lost all of her cool as she looked away from you. you got up onto your knees on the bed in front of her. mary still wasn't looking at you, so you turned her head towards you. she needed to see the look of need and desperation in your eyes, and you knew it.
"please," you pleaded with her. mary swallowed back everything that had bubbled up in her as she nodded. "you have to want it too. i'll do whatever you want mary, i swear that i will."
"you don't have to do anything for me baby," mary told you. she pressed a very sweet kiss to your lips before she let her hands drop from your cheeks down to your waist. "i know how ready and willing you are for me. that's why you're my best girl."
the praise had all of the heat in your body torn as to where it needed to go. your cheeks were flushed, giving away how turned on you were. mary was quick to twist your body around so that your back was pressed against her front. you expected her to leave and grab the strap on or something, but instead she just bent you over so that you were on your hands and knees.
"i bet that you're soaked under this kit. when you tripped over yourself earlier, was it because you were thinking about me doing this to you?" mary asked. you nodded, suddenly embarrassed about how badly you wanted mary to fuck you. all she had said was two words to you on the pitch, and you were a horny, bumbling mess. you felt a sharp sting on your ass as mary's hand came down to spank you. "answer me, i want to hear you say it. come on, i thought you wanted to be my good girl."
"fuck," you groaned. mary's hand moved from your ass up to grab your ponytail to crane your neck back. "yes, i was thinking about this. please, mary, just fuck me."
"hmm, i don't like being rushed, but you are being very polite about it. alright, take your clothes off and i'll be right back." mary let go of you and pressed a kiss to where your shirt had ridden up on your back. you scrambled off of the bed to undress yourself while mary went into the closet. you knew what she kept in there, so you knew what to expect when she came out, and yet, you were still a bit floored.
"mary," you breathed out. she smirked as she noticed the look on your face. you were practically drooling as you took in the marvel of a sight that was her standing naked in front of you with the familiar dildo that she had bought specifically for you jutting out proudly between her legs.
"it's okay, i'm coming honey," mary reassured you. she climbed onto the bed, hovering over you. for a moment, you thought that she'd just fuck you like that, but mary surprised you by slinging your legs over her shoulders. she leaned down just enough that you could feel the head of the dildo pressing against you as she put her focus on your tits.
mary's mouth and hands felt heavenly on your body, but it wasn't what you wanted. a part of you wanted to urge her forward, but mary was moving at a fairly comfortable speed. it was how she always was with you, but today, you were on edge a bit more than normal. you had been festering with your horniness for mary for too long, and she had done a wonderful job playing along with you whenever the two of you got back.
"you're being so patient for me-," mary pressed a kiss to the underside of both of your breasts, "-what a good girl."
"mary," you whined. she glanced up at you with an uneven smile and a look in her eyes that told you she knew exactly what she was doing. mary was teasing you a bit, but it wasn't out of a place of malice. mary just wanted to make sure that you were ready for her, knowing that you'd whine and whimper and throw a fit if she tried to just give you her fingers. that was what you always did whenever she wasn't as rough with you as you could have liked.
"shh." mary pressed a quick kiss to your lips as she lined up the tip of the dildo with your entrance. mary eased the toy inside of you and waited until you started to move your hips to move hers. she grabbed onto your hips as she snapped her hips forward a couple of times. "you're taking me so good right now."
you moaned, both from the praise and the way that her hips were roughly thrusting into you. mary pressed a couple of kisses to your lips, a little bit of a warning as her thrusts grew more forceful. you knew that mary was worried about hurting you like this, so you started kissing the side of her neck as reassurance. you were a bit too far gone to tell her that she was fine, but your actions worked just as well as your words.
"i want you to cum for me, (y/n). come on, be a good girl for me and let me watch you cum all over my cock. i know that you can do it," mary cooed in your ear. the softness of her voice contradicted the roughness of her thrusts, making your head spin. it was almost like there were two different people in bed with you, but both of them were inexplicably mary. "come on now, that's it."
you whined as your entire body contracted around mary. your arms and legs were squeezing her in an attempt to keep her still inside of you. the feeling of her sitting still inside of you was comforting until it began to feel like too much. mary seemed to know when you wanted her to pull out and did so without any prompting. she tossed the strap aside and moved to cradle you in her arms. this was always one of mary's favorite parts of sex, and occasionally, you wondered if she liked this more than the actual act itself.
"you did so good," mary told you. you smiled and hummed as you rested your head against her shoulder. mary pressed a few kisses to the side of your head before she groaned.
"you okay?" you asked. mary nodded, rubbing out a bit of soreness in the back of her thigh. "did you pull something?"
"maybe. a hot shower should make it go away." you knew what mary was trying to do, and unfortunately, it worked perfectly. you were out of bed within seconds to draw up a bath for the two of you. you knew that mary preferred showers, but it had been at least a month since you had talked her into a romantic bath for just the two of you. "it's ready mare!"
"coming!" mary shouted back, twice as loud as you had been. you chuckled as you shook your head, climbing into the bath and moving against the back of it. mary paused when she walked in to see the bubbles, but still got in and let you wrap yourself around her from behind. "i said a shower."
"and i wanted a bath. besides, i'll massage out the knots when we get out, i promise," you told her. mary hummed, seemingly satisfied for the time being.
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kentofication · 1 year
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% — yoriichi tsugikuni & fem!reader ] — 527
❝ sexual content # creampie # breeding # mentions of fertilization # marking # praise # petnames # fluff # unprotected sex # dom!yoriichi x sub!reader ❞
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“i can tell you’re liking this baby . . . a whole bunch.” yoriichi moaned as he harshly thrusted up into you, molding your walls into the shape of his cock for future sexual moments like this one, branding your pussy as his own. both of his arms were wrapped around your waist and his feet were planted into the mattress, leaving a slight dent in the mattress itself. 
his heavy balls were being slapped against your ass at an outstanding speed as he drilled his cock into you. his pace never faltered, but he did lack the sight of your face. his own was buried into the crook of your neck, leaving love bites all over the soft platform in order to mark you as his. 
his hips created a rhythm that was suitable for you both. your juices dripped down from the base of his cock and slithered down to his balls, creating more slick and rendering it more convenient for him to slide in and out of you. 
yoriichi’s long locks were being tugged by your dainty hands, finding something to ground yourself to escape from his ruthless thrusts. “you’re so p-perfect . . . y’know that? hmm pretty girl?” he inquired during his thrusts, making them more rougher after his question. 
it was hard for you to respond to his praise, you knew yoriichi was never the one for degradation or making you feel bad about yourself. he was always about praise and making you feel more high about yourself. he knows how self conscious you can be and he wants to adjust to that lifestyle, especially with you. he wants to live out his lifetime with you, but in order for him to do that, he must adjust to your doings first. 
he must understand your likes and dislikes during soft moments and intimate ones. he must understand you as a human being and not just an everyday object. he must treat you like an absolute goddess and not some worn down object waiting to be fixed, and to its dismay, broken down again. in his eyes you are his, he must treat you with absolute respect. he must treat you like a goddess. 
that’s why when he stills himself inside of you and cums deep inside to the point where his sperm is spreading into your womb, swimming its way to your unfertilized egg, you don’t tell him to stop. it’s not because you’re too tired or anything, or you’re worn out from all the ruthless fucking you’ve been doing for the past who knows how many hours. it’s because you love him, and he knows that. that’s why he came inside of you. he knows that you wanted to be bred by him sooner or later. he knows this had been boiling inside of both you and him for quite some while. 
yoriichi knows everything about you, because he treats you so well. he listens to your every request. he listens to everything, even when you think he’s not listening. yoriichi tsugikuni swears to himself that he will treat you like an absolute goddess. he swears on his life he will. on his own, precious life.
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originally wrote and posted by @kentofication
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angels-sins0 · 7 months
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i beg you to continue with this fic of ghost, i want reader to gain some strength and make something 😭
Ghost x f!reader
Cw: I apologize in advance, emotionally (un)available Simon, age gap relationship (Simon is depicted in his late 30’s and the reader is around 21), older man!Ghost, young & naive!reader, slight spoilers for MWIII, brief mention of a developing alcohol addiction, hurt/no comfort, angst, screaming and crying, please don’t kill me for this.
Six months had passed since you last saw Simon. Truth be told, you’ve never felt better than you do right now.
You had moved out of your apartment three months ago after getting a promotion at your job, earning more money than you ever thought of having.
Life was good without him. You didn’t have to worry about getting your feelings hurt anymore.
Simon on the other hand, had been going through the worst months of his life.
He lost a good friend of his while on a mission which resulted in him frequenting the bar close to his house more than he’d like to admit.
Work was hard then and it was even harder knowing he couldn’t see you or hear your soft voice again.
He hated whatever it is he felt when he thought about you and the last time you were together. He despised himself for the way he treated you.
He missed your sweet laugh and the way your eyes lit up each time you saw him even if he proceeded to ruin you moments later.
What was it about you that made him feel weird inside whenever he thought of you? If only he felt that way when you were still with him.
Simon felt like he saw you everywhere around him, like you were with him no matter what he did. It was a strange feeling at first but he had learned to succumb to the comfort it brought him.
It didn’t help that you were the main star in his dreams more often than not. Whether it be dreams where he fought harder to have you back in his life or him fucking you in your bed, a guilty part of him enjoyed the latter.
He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to see you, had to look at your face one more time, hold you in his arms and never let you go again.
Simon stood in his apartment and contemplated if he actually wanted to do this.
What if you didn’t want to see him?
What if he was too late and you had found someone who treated you the way you deserved?
He had to try, right? Sure he would be hurt if you didn’t want him anymore but at least he would have some kind of closure.
And so, he made his way to your new place. He had gotten the address from Laswell but not before she made some snarky comment about him finally “getting laid”.
Simon knocked on your door and stood looking down at his feet.
Then you opened the door and he swore his heart could’ve popped out of him at that moment.
“Hey,” he breathed out, but you just stood there, rendered completely speechless by the fact that he was actually in front of you.
“H-how did you find me?” You said after a few moments of silence.
“I’ve got my ways.” He said plainly. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do.
Should you let him in?
All the while, you both just stared at each other.
“Do you want to…?” What the hell do people even say in these situations?
“Only if you want me to.”
And so, you moved to let him in, closing the door behind you and leading him to sit on the couch.
It was awkward. You didn’t even look at each other, just sat there in silence.
“Why are you here, Simon?” You asked. Why the hell would he show up now?
“I’ve been…thinking a lot about where we left things off.” He looked at you and you nodded slowly at his words.
“And?”
“And I think— I know I was an asshole to you and you didn’t deserve the way I treated you.” He sighed, and you stared at him, dumbfounded.
“It took you six months to figure that out?” You didn’t know what it was exactly that made you so angry. Was it his audacity to show up after all that time and think you’d be okay with it?
Simon went quiet again.
You stood up from the couch. “Do you have any idea what it’s been like for me the entire time you were away? How long I spent crying over something that wasn’t real? We had nothing! And i still felt like you were everything to me…even when I knew you’d never feel that way about me. Did you really think that—I would…let you in again after all this time?”
You couldn’t help the sob that escaped you, covering your face with your hands to wipe away your tears so he couldn’t see them.
He got up as well, slowly approaching you and he gently pulled you into his arms. You reluctantly relaxed into him, the tears still falling from you.
“I’m sorry for making you feel like this…I wish I was better—i want to be better…” Simon cupped your face with one hand, the other still wrapped around you and placed his forehead on yours.
With your eyes still closed, you hadn’t realized he’d lifted his mask up above his mouth. Your faces were impossibly close and he leaned in to connect your lips together in a kiss.
You felt like you were being controlled by something and it made you kiss him back, even when part of you wanted to push him away.
It went on for a couple of seconds before you eventually pulled back and stared at him.
“Is this what you’re really here for?” You said, voice laced with a hint of anger.
“No! Fuck, no! I wanted to calm y’down and it just happened.”
“I wanna be better and i wanna make you happy but most of all I want you to forgive me for how things were between us.” He was almost pleading, his eyes searching yours for any emotion.
You couldn’t help but scoff.
“All these words…and you still kissed me with your mask on, what does that tell you, Simon?”
He stayed silent. “It tells you that no matter what we have, you’ll never be able to feel like you can let your guard down around me.”
“But i-“
“And if we really decide to do this, what happens when you think i’m not enough or when you feel like you don’t want me anymore? How the hell am I supposed to be okay with that?! It took me six months to start feeling better even though what we had was nothing!”
“You are enough! For fuck’s sakes, you are all I’ve ever wanted!”
“Then show me who you are! I’m never gonna be able to love you if I don’t fucking know you, Simon!”
“You know I can’t do that…”
“Well, then you have your answer…” You looked down, not wanting to see his face anymore.
But he couldn’t look away from you, part of him knowing this was the last time he’d ever see you so he wanted to memorize everything about you.
“I think you should go.” You said, breaking the silence between you. “Please don’t try to come here again.”
You looked up at him and for the first time since you’ve known him, Simon looked hurt. You couldn’t help but feel a pang in your heart at the sight of him standing there, trying to salvage whatever this was but ultimately failing.
“Right…”
“I’m sorry for everything I did to you.” Were the last words he spoke before leaving.
On his way home, he had this weird feeling in his chest that he couldn’t explain, it made him realize why he was always so closed off and why he never tried to have something with someone.
Simon has always had this unexplainable fear of being rejected and left alone, and tonight, you invoked that fear further into him.
He had two thoughts that kept circling through his head.
He was never going to love again.
And the second one that pained him every time he would think about it.
You were gone and there was nothing he could do about it.
@ghost-is-my-bbg , @evehasdied , @darlingvinny , @dragonstoneshortcake , @dest-nai , @imhereforthespice , @graciewacey , @annoyinglysweetobject , @7thsthings , @kaa212 , @rorylover71 , @deareststhings , @dxrak , @ghostslillady , @kazuhyahs , @spookyboogyuniverse , @dangelus , @kenz-ee , @goodkittyspost , @puppybittingotherpuppy , @skulfan1 , @prttylilkittn , @emmalandry , @justgivingupsblog , @simpforfic , @ciggsaftersex , @massiveduckkidcookie , @c3r3al-k1ll3r887 , @riverbutghost , @spxctorslxxt , @marriedtoeddie , @delightfulwolflawyerfreak-blog , @sixxslut , @ghostslittlegf , @tf141glory , @ghostswife141 , @prazinos , @toastedkjeks , @naio-kummer , @sunsetsimon , @livingdead-g1rl , @chimochai , @yo1mamma , @loving-azerath , @lanadelreygirly777
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lynk-zee · 18 days
Note
hey,
Not sure if you got this request already but could you do a scenario where MC is deliberately being a brat and the LADS know and are like shut up and she's like make me. All would be awesome but just Zayne or Xavier solo would be fine too. Thanks!
Brat 🎀
Spicy. But marked NSFW to be safe.
~~~
In all honesty, you were doing the most. You were all huffy and puffy, throwing fits left and right for absolutely no reason. Yes, he canceled the dinner date you had planned for weeks, nullifying all the work you did last night to get dolled up and pretty. But he promised to make it up to you! Why can’t you just accept his apology and move on?
By your fifteenth huff that night, he was over it.
“Would you be quiet and let it go already?”
“Make me!”
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A dangerous game. Do you really want to go there? He doesn’t respond immediately, eerily quiet, sharp eyes observing you as you have a mini hissy fit. While you whine and pout, he’s the embodiment of control, stone cold and reactionless to your tantrum. Then he cocks an eyebrow.
“What did you say?”
A part of you screamed at the danger, your fight or flight instincts kicking in. But you pressed forward. He deserved it after how angry he made you.
“You heard me!”
It all happened so fast. One moment, you both were seated on the couch together. The next you were bent over his knee. You gulped, looking back up at him as he stared down at you, pupils blown wide.
“I think…” He leans down to whisper in your ear. You shiver as he runs his fingers delicately through your hair, contrast to the hard look in his eyes.“I think…Someone needs to relearn their manners…”
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Shocked. Disbelief. Wig snatched. He turns to you slowly. “Did you really just say that to me?”
Crossing your arms, you stare him down. “Yeah? What are you going to do about it?”
His eyes gain that predatory glint, a sinister smirk on his face. He walks up to you, tilting your head up at him with a finger under your chin. Usually you would be able to hold your own against Rafayel. But there’s something about that look in his eyes that had rendered you powerless.
“What should I do, indeed…” His voice is gravelly as he inspects your attitude. “Your highness is having a bit of a tantrum…How unbecoming…”
Your breath hitches as he grazes his lips against yours, your hot breath mingling with his. Before you can reach up for a proper kiss, he pulled away, making you whine pitifully. He hummed, threading his fingers through your hair.
“It’ll be like that all night…” He purred, stroking your cheek. “So close, but never enough…Until your crying…”
“That’s your punishment tonight, for being such a brat.”
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…Run. Run for the hills, run for your life! Xavier’s been waiting so long for an excuse to bring out the big guns.
“….Pardon?”
One moment, he was in front of you. The next, he flashes behind you, pinning you against the wall, holding your arms behind your back. You gasp at the sudden movement. He’s fast— too fast! You could hear him breathing heavily through his nose, heaving with excitement.
“Do you want me to…?” He whispers hotly into your ear. “Do you really want me to…?”
You’re in dangerous waters. You’ve always known Xavier had a freaky side, but did you want to explore it now? At your expense?
Still feeling defiant, you huffed at him “Bring it on!”
What you weren’t expecting was for him to flash back with ropes in his hand. He gave you an eerie smile.
“You said to make you be quiet, right?”
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I could have wrote “they give you the silent treatment”, but here we are 😋
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boopshoops · 29 days
Text
TWST OC INTRODUCTION - TCOAV
Joel Bullion - Makings of Greatness
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Name: Joel Bullion
Nicknames: Buzzbait, Thistle
Gender: Male
Pronouns: He/they
Sexuality: Aromantic Asexual
Birthday: November 30 (Sagittarius)
Age: 39 (In canon and AU)
Height: 6'2 or 188cm
Voice Claim(s): Jellzybelle
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Twisted from: John Silver from Treasure Planet.
Unique Magic: "Rattle the Stars" Summons exactly that in the palm of Joel's robotic hand: a star. However, this is not just any star, this star's life flashes before your eyes, resulting in a controlled supernova. It creates a burning hot flash bang, with tremors forming cracks in the ground depending on the magnitude of the star itself. The explosion knocks enemies away from Joel. The size of the star dictates how much magic they will use, as well as how much blot he will accumulate. He is unsure what the maximum size of a star he can create is, but he does know that he has gotten dangerously close to overblotting while trying. In his current state, the blast is not deadly and primarily works to stun opponents or, at most, render them unconscious.
Grade: Teaches Freshman, Sophomores, and Juniors
Class: Teaches Culinary Crucible, Astrology, and Tech. Occasionally aids with Physical Education.
Hobbies: Treasure hunting, finding constellations, hiking, traveling, spelunking, deadlifting, cooking.
Likes: Pernil, old school tech, adventure novels, hard cash, or anything he can sell for gold really, pranking Ezra and Crowley, telescopes, planetary science, zodiac signs.
Dislikes: Grading (this man should not be a teacher), any dish with fish in it, sticklers, staying still, overt formality, the cold, humorless individuals.
Fears: Immobility, optometric illnesses, not amounting to anything, not living his life to the fullest, birds.
Summary: "Why does he even teach?" is a question that crosses the mind of almost every NRC student in one of Joel's classes. He's shameless, sarcastic, and finds entertainment in messing with students and staff alike. Teaching is only a side job for him, his real passions lie elsewhere. Nonetheless, he is highly skilled in a variety of subjects, making him indispensable.
He abuses that privilege, of course, taking the time to have as much fun as he can in what he calls a boring dump of a school and make sure everyone around him suffers for it. Though this usually just amounts to light teasing and pranks. They do not behave like an educator or mentor. He does not typically enjoy interacting with most of his students in a serious manner, and the ones they do enjoy talking with are treated more like casual, distant friends.
With the responsibility of teaching so many subjects heavy on their shoulders, he does make plenty of time to shrug it off to work on his true dream: getting as rich as possible. Now, now, there are plenty of figures at NRC who want that, yeah? But Joel wants the lottery. He wants to struggle, look high and low, and come out above everyone with something ancient, shiny, and, hopefully, covered in expensive jewels. Over everything and everyone, they enjoy the hunt of it. To the point where he values it above people and relationships. Hell, they'd fly to the moon to get it if they had to.
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Outfit Inspiration
Author's Notes: JOEL. Ahhh Joel. I'll admit, this was harder to write compared to the others! Everyone else's development, personality, struggles, etc. came very naturally to me, while, with joel, I really had to sit and brainstorm for awhile. Though, I can now say that he has grown on me a lot, and I plan on giving him more of a role in TCOAV like Ezra! I have lots of plans for him! Old ass man <33 (affectionate, /j) this will probably be the last new TCOAV oc for a while! But just know, there will be more >:)
Tag list! v
@lowcallyfruity @kitwasnothere @distant-velleity @thehollowwriter @justm3di0cr3
@skriblee-ksk @cecilebutcher
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toxicanonymity · 1 year
Note
Babes, are we going to get another nightwalks!Joel anytime soon? Miss that creep :(
Night Walks: Morning After
900 / Creepy!Joel x fem!reader / nw master
Warnings: Drugs, manhandling, reluctant (mildly dub) consent, oral m receiving, unsafe P in V sex. Unedited. I8 up. This one goes out to @missannwinchester , great ideas & huge NWJ fan! 🥳💙👖
Note: There's a FIC OF THE BJ flashback now
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You wake up before dawn with a pounding headache. Your skin itches, your hair feels dirty. Your jaw is sore. The ceiling fan is the first clue that it isn’t your room. You’re not wearing clothes and there’s a heavy arm draped over your body. It all comes back to you.
You not only came to his house, but you spied on him. You went inside with him. You let him do lines off your body, and not only fucked him but begged him to fuck you harder. Then he took you to bed and as you were settling in to sleep, you decided to suck his cock better than anyone else could ever suck it.
Some of the night is a blur, but you can still taste him in your mouth and feel the smooth skin of his tip sliding down the back of your throat. You can hear him asking if you were ready for round two, wanting to put it in you, but you were determined to give him the blow job of his life, and you did. You can hear his voice saying “Fuck yeah, baby,” and his groan as you sucked even his balls, rendering him speechless for the first time ever. Then his shudder as his hot load hit the back of your throat and the way he sighed, "God damn, pumpkin" as he recovered.
Why'd you do it? You could blame the coke, or the sketchy weed, but the truth is a little more shameful to you. The truth is, jealousy is a hell of a drug. All it took was thinking you saw someone else sucking his cock, and you lost your damn mind. It turned this creep into someone you had to claim.
-
You roll over onto your side, paralyzed by shame, unready to face him or the day ahead. When you move, he stirs awake. His voice is even lower than usual.
“Knew you were wild, pumpkin. But damn you suck a mean dick.”
He tightens his grip and scoots closer. His hard dick presses against your ass and sends a pang of arousal through your core to your chest. His hand drifts between your legs and he says, “Mmmm.” You’re a little sore from the night before. He begins to nibble your neck, but you try to squirm away.
He sighs and tightens his arm, “What’sa matter, pumpkin?” He kisses your neck wetly.
“I need to leave.”
“And why the hell would ya need to do that? You gotta work today?” No, you don’t. He knows it.
“I feel disgusting,” you say, moving again to get out of bed. He uses more strength this time to keep you still.
He whispers in your ear, “Oh, you’re filthy, baby. Wouldn’t have ya any other way,” as he grinds his rock-hard length against you. “C’mon, one for the road,” he says.
-
You’re horny as hell. His hand comes back between your legs and you don’t resist at all this time.
“Ohhh yeah,” he half-whispers when he feels how much wetter you’ve gotten in the one minute his hand’s been gone. “Hell yeah,” he says and nudges your top leg up. To hell with it. You tilt your hips while you’re at it.
As soon as his tip is at your wet entrance, he shoves it into you with a grunt. He rocks his hips back, then does it again, harder. “Love your mouth baby, but this pussy can’t be beat.” Your body is so needy for his, your walls suck him back in each time he backs up. He bites and sucks your neck as he fucks you.
You moan at the most welcome intrusion and push your ass back every time his big cock fills you up. He gropes your breasts every so often but keeps his arm tight around you for leverage. He fucks you so hard, he must remember you telling him “harder.” It’s surely burned in his memory forever. Fuck.
“You’re so damn hot, baby,” he breathes into your neck as he rails you. His breaths grow deeper. “So fuckin’ hot last night.” He thrusts deeper and harder, breathing hotly behind your ear and grunting. “Fuck,” he breathes. He slows down but his stiff cock plunges just as deep, with his hand now at your clit. His fingers begin to move just how you like. He knows you’re about to come and he’s slowed down his hips, focusing on your clit. “You're there, baby. C’mon.”
The tension bursts in your core and your cunt flutters around him. “Fuuuuck,” he sighs. The feeling of your warm cunt tightening around him is too much to bear. You pulse around him and your body jerks as he ramps back up and pounds you through it. He plunges to the hilt as hard as ever just a few more times, then pulses warmly, making you moan as you contract again with pleasure.
As you catch your breath, his big hand glides lightly over your body. To your shame, you find you're still high on the relief that the coke girl wasn't sucking his cock. As far as you know. It's like you almost lost something you didn't realize you wanted. What, though? His attention? It's hard to deny it makes you feel kinda special, the way he pursues you relentlessly.
“Knew you’d love wakin' up to this cock," he whispers in your ear, a welcome reminder of how obnoxious he is. But you can't argue with that. Not while he's still inside you.
-
Thank you so much for your reblogs and comments! Night walks fans are so dedicated 😫 🤟💐✨💙
-
All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339   @manazo @wolvesandvampires  @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname
NW: @tehweeana @ele-meno-p @swedishscumfuck
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bless-my-demons · 10 months
Text
Redamancy: Chapter Nine
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Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?
Warnings: Cussing and a mild mention of killing vampires
Notes: This chapter is… the longest one yet and definitely my fav so far - I love me some protective men, enjoy!! [FYI: Y/m/n is your middle name]
Word Count: 5096
Series Masterlist
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• March 12th, 2005 • Forks, WA •
Jasper
I pull my motorcycle to a stop at an outlook over the Olympic Forest just outside of town, not wanting to go far for her first ride, but also wanting to get her alone and just be. I reach a hand behind me for her to take as she climbs off before I pop out the kickstand and get off myself. She’s handing me my protective gear as I turn to see what’s got her eager to leave my side and I’m met with the second most gorgeous view, the first being the girl before me.
The deep green of the forest clashes against the oranges, pinks, and purples of the descending sun to make for a spectacular sunset. To make it even better, I can see the reflection of it in her eyes - the duality of beauty rendering me speechless for longer than I’d like to admit.
This gorgeous creature, this kind and beautiful soul before me is meant to be mine. My singer, the greatest temptation a vampire could ever experience and I have found her. How on earth a monster like me is supposed to be an equal for an angel like her, I might never know.
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Reader
He’s staring at me in such a way that I feel completely alive. It’s causing my face to heat, but I could care less about being embarrassed-this beautiful sunset and the vampire next to me have snatched all rational thought.
I turn to meet his eyes and I can tell a million things are running through his mind by the slightly unfocused look. The hint of a grin on his perfect lips bring a smile to my own, “Penny for your thoughts?” I ask.
“You’d have millions.” He jokes, but I’m slightly lost and tilt my head. “My thoughts are nothing but you, darlin’. You’d have millions if you had a penny for each one.”
My mouth gapes like a fish for a few seconds, for someone so stoic usually, he sure can make a girl swoon. So instead of replying, I turn my gaze to his hands, running my fingers over them and up his wrist. Before they could ascend any further though, one of his hands reaches up to stop me. Fearing that I’ve unknowingly pushed a boundary, I glance up in alarm.
“There is a reason I wear sleeves, sweetheart.” He explains quietly with a sad half-smile.
“If you think any part of you could scare me, you’re wrong Hale.” I mean it and I know he can sense the truth of my words.
“I’ve done things, horrible things for a horrible person, and I did them without question-“
“So tell me and let me prove that none of that matters now.” I lift a brow daring him to defy me.
In response he pushes the sleeves of his shirt up to reveal scarred forearms. Not just typical scarring, but bite marks. I let out a gasp at the hard ridges and pits that penetrate his skin, there must be hundreds and they have to have been painful to permanently damage the skin of a vampire. My wide eyes meet his and I can tell he’s holding his breath for what I might say.
“Who-what could do this to you? Why? How?” Questions begin tumbling from my lips as my fingers float across his damaged skin, anguish beginning to seep into my bones as his explanation begins.
“I was the youngest major in the Texas Calvary, evacuating women and children from the battlefield when I… came across three women that I thought required assistance. Being the gentleman and soldier I was, I offered them aid and it cost me my life.” He inhaled a deep breath before continuing, still watching my hands explore his skin. “Their leader Maria, was the one that changed me with the intention to use me as a general for her own army. An army of newly turned vampires, impossible for anyone, human or vampire, to beat. I was…” A heavy pause, “Also in charge of dispatching them once they outlived her usefulness for her.”
I meet his eyes as he struggles through that last sentence. Unbelievable. This man? This kind, gentle, sweet, considerate man was used to train and then kill other people for a woman clearly not strong enough to do it herself? I’m in shock at the audacity.
“If you’re waiting for me to run screaming, you’ll have to try harder.” I whisper, afraid I might scream in frustration should I speak any louder.
He puffs out a breath at my words and shakes his head. “You amaze me at every turn, you know that?” One hand pulls away from my touch to run fingers across my cheekbone in a tender gesture, drastically contrasting the story his skin tells.
“You think you can scare me, but I’m still here.” I’m here because I’m a magnet drawn to you and I don’t ever want to be pulled away, but I keep those words from slipping out with the rest.
“I’m a monster that has killed more people than I can remember, and that’s okay with you?” He asks honestly and bluntly, eyes searching mine.
“You did what was asked of you by someone that manipulated you, that is not on you and it does not make you a monster, Jasper.” The conviction in my voice is strong.
“You feel so strongly for my past and my demons, but you won’t let me in that pretty little mind of yours, why is that?” He taps on my temple gently, questioning my very being.
“Who said you aren’t already in here?” It’s my turn to tap my own temple, but my words and actions are a little more harsh now that my own demons are rushing to the surface. “You are in every single thought night and day, Hale-“
“Then why do you play this game - one moment you’re all in and the next you’re scared-“
“Because someone like you don’t waste their time with someone like me!” The quiet is deafening for a few beats following my confession. “You are gorgeous, and-and mysterious, and everything a girl could dream to have-“ but he interrupts my ramble with hands cradling my face.
“And utterly taken by you. You, darlin’. Never have I felt so alive, so seen by someone. Someone that is so incredible she caught me off guard with a door and a simple look, me-a vampire!” His words are frantic.
“I’m just a plain ‘ole regular girl like everyone else, the one you date before the real one comes along and-”
“No.” One word, one syllable and yet it holds so much weight. “Do not diminish yourself because of the value you’ve placed upon me, I will not allow it.”
What do I even say to that? Before I could articulate a response, his face lowers and his forehead rests on mine. “You are everything I need and I want you to understand that I’m not going anywhere and no other will ever take me away from you or catch my eye if you’re worried about something like that.”
A rumble in the distance reminds us of our surroundings again, darkness having moved in and a storm notifying us that it’s on the way.
“Let me get you home, sweetheart.” A kiss is delicately placed high on my cheekbone, tender and cool to soothe the heat that might be permanently settled there.
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• March 13th, 2005 • Home •
Reader
The outing with Jasper yesterday has had my mind in a spin since he dropped me off at home. I can’t believe he not only indulged my request, but that I got to essentially be a human backpack for an insanely hot vampire. And our conversation… I can’t even - he flipped my world around and stole my breath away.
I’m still breathless. And looking for my stupid hat.
“Mom, have you seen my Cubs baseball hat?” I yell from the top of the stairs.
“No sweetie, did you check the bottom of the hall closet? Maybe it fell in there!” She yelled back from her spot fixing lunch in the kitchen.
I huff and run to the closet, swinging the door open and spotting the blue hat tossed haphazardly on top of our snowshoes. Great, now I’ll smell like feet. I hurry to the bathroom and grab the fabric spray from under the sink as the front doorbell rings.
Shit-shit-shit, he’s early! I finish tying my shoes to prevent myself from tripping down the stairs in my haste. As I reach the top, I hear my mother beat me to the front door to invite Jasper in, swinging the door wide in her excitement at a boy standing on our front porch.
“Good afternoon, ma’am.” He drawls in his southern accent, he offers his hand out to shake my mother’s, “Jasper Hale.” His eyes flicking up to meet mine as I descend the stairs, my mother accepting the gentlemanly gesture.
“Oh good afternoon dear!” My mother turns to me, “I made lunch in the kitchen if you two are hungry.”
“No thanks mom, we’ll just get going!” I tell her breathlessly, popping a kiss to her cheek as I brush past, “Love you!”
She sputters a second, trying to catch up, “Love you too dear, just be home at a reasonable time!” She yells after me, standing in the doorway to our home.
“I won’t keep her too late, ma’am.” Jasper flashes her a smile, “Promise I’ll keep her safe, to the best of my ability.” Finally he gives in to my tug of his jacket sleeve to follow me down the front steps.
My mother continues to stand on the porch, watching us like a hawk as Jasper opens the passenger door for me to Edward’s Volvo. He throws a wink at me before shutting the door and walking around to the driver’s side, waving goodbye to my mother who returns it.
“In a hurry, doll?” He asks, placing his right hand on my headrest as he leans over to back out of my drive.
I can’t think straight when he invades my space like this, “I just spared you from the third degree my mother was about to lay on you back there. You’re welcome, Hale.” I huff, trying to not let his proximity affect me.
He chuckles, for what I’m not entirely sure: my increasing heart rate or the comment about my mother.
“I think I can handle your mom.” He eventually responds, hands now having returned to safe territory on the steering wheel.
“Oh of that I have no doubt, but she would’ve kept us entirely too long and I’m not about to let you keep me from watching the most interesting game of baseball I’ve ever witnessed.” I responded.
Lord knows my mother would’ve embarrassed me by asking what his intentions were and we don’t need that kind of talk. We don’t need it yet, anyways.
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• March 13th, 2005 • Cullen Residence •
Reader
Jasper parked the car in the garage of his massive home, if a work of architecture could be called ‘home’. He speeds around to the passenger side to open my door before I even got the chance to reach for the handle.
“I can open my own door, you know?” I mention as I stand from the car.
“Where I’m from, a lady should never have to open a door for herself.” He states matter-of-factly, shutting the door and moving past me to lead the way, arm brushing my shoulder and creating goosebumps in its wake.
Flustered by his chivalry, I follow him silently inside.
“Where is everyone?” I ask, taking in the view of the forest from the large windows.
It takes him a minute to respond, having disappeared somewhere momentarily just to return with a jacket draped over his arm and a warm-looking scarf in hand.
“Edward is picking up Isabella and should be here any moment to get us. The rest of my family is in the clearing warming up.” He answers, draping the scarf around my neck with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.
Before I could comment on the look, Edward honked impatiently from the driveway.
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Jasper
A little part of me wishes I just ran to the clearing while Y/n rode with Edward and Bella, just to clear my head from her scent. The rest of me is happy to have a few more moments in her presence, even if for just a little while.
I make eye contact with my brother in the rear view mirror, knowing he can read my thoughts. He gives a small dip of his chin in acknowledgment, as if to say he understands the internal conflict of wanting to be close to her while knowing it’s also torture to do so.
“Are you warm enough?” I ask, catching her rubbing her hands together in her lap.
“Oh I’ll be fine, I’m just excited is all.” She responds, I can tell she isn’t entirely telling the truth the way the little white lie taints her emotions. Unfortunately I can’t tell if it’s about the temperature or her excitement at the prospect of watching a vampire baseball game. I chuckle and glance out my window, now I know how Edward feels not being able to read Isabella’s thoughts.
My brother lets out a small laugh himself causing the women to turn on us, “What?” They ask in sync.
“Edward finds my thoughts amusing is all, nothing to worry about darlin’.” I tell Y/n. I notice her face blanche and immediately realize I never told her of Edward’s power.
“He-he what?” She stutters, clearly worrying over the invasion of privacy she was never warned about and I kick myself for not having this conversation beforehand.
“Edward can read the thoughts of those in his vicinity. He’s respectful with his power though, he wouldn’t invade your privacy like that.” I reassure her, using a portion of my power to round out some of her nerves.
“I can hear you, but it sort of passes through.” Edward hesitates, “It’s like sitting in a room full of people conversing, but not really paying attention even though you can hear them talking all at once. I’m used to communicating with Jasper this way, I apologize for not prefacing my abilities sooner.” He finishes, glancing back to look over his shoulder with a sad smile.
“Thank you Edward, I appreciate that very much.” Y/n sighs, “I think it’s actually a pretty amazing power to have.” She tells him with a smile.
“Sometimes it is,” Edward glances to Bella, “Sometimes it isn’t.”
“Why did we have to wait for a thunderstorm to play baseball?” She turns to ask me innocently after a beat of silence.
“Oh you’re about to see.” I tell her with a grin as Edward pulls the Jeep to a stop at the edge of a clearing, the rest of my family gathered not far away.
As I help her out of Emmett’s Wrangler, I remove my jacket to place around her shoulders.
“Before you say anything, I don’t need it. Keep it warm for me.” I can’t resist placing a kiss to the crown of her head, her scent mingling with mine making for a heady mixture. I turn and lead her to where everyone is gathered, Emmett sending a pointed look my way at the interaction he just witnessed. I shrug as a way of answering, trying not to make it a big deal since he’s always been worried about my loneliness the last few decades.
“Alright let’s pick teams!” Carlisle announces, attempting to wrangle our rowdy bunch.
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Reader
As the Cullen’s separate into their teams, I follow Esme as she tugs Bella and I over to home plate explaining the game. Carlisle and Rosalie play-flight over who gets to go first, but my eye is on Jasper as he warms up with a few test-swings with a bat.
“We could use a few impartial opinions.” Esme smiles at us, shifting Bella and I to stand behind her as she assumes the ‘catcher’ position.
Rose is up to bat first, Jasper and Carlisle on her team while Emmett, Edward, and Alice make up the opposition. The latter taking up her place at the pitcher’s mound - she nods her head and announces, “It’s time.”
First pitch from Alice and Rose absolutely smashes it, the thunder cracking in time with the strike of the bat.
“Okay, now I see why you need the thunder.” Bella says, impressed. “That’s gotta be a home run, right?”
Rosalie rounds second and heads for third, a blonde blur on the field. “Edward is fast.” Esme tells her with confidence.
Right when I think there’s no possible way Edward could get his sister out before she slides home, a baseball rockets it’s way out of the woods and straight into Esme’s hands. Tagging her adoptive daughter with the ball, she looks over her shoulder at us for confirmation.
“You’re out!” Bella motions a thumb over her shoulder at a very not happy Rose.
I turn to look at Jasper, completely blown away by what transpired, but I’m distracted in the way he idly spins his baseball bat. My emotions must catch his attention, because he doesn’t stop as he makes eye contact. Who knew something so basic as flipping a bat could be so attractive?
“Babe, c’mon! It’s just a game!” Emmett yells from across the field, garnering my attention from his brother.
Rosalie brushes past Bella to intimidate her umpire call as Carlisle takes his place at home plate. Another beautiful pitch by Alice and powerful swing by the doctor, the ball heads straight for the middle ground between the two brothers in the outfield. Colliding together, they miss the ball and their dad claims second base.
Next up is Jasper and I’m positively vibrating with excitement to see him in action. Showing off again with his idle bat tossing, he settles in and sends Alice’s next ball into orbit, but Emmett manages to snag it out of thin air.
“My monkey man.” Rose says proudly from her spot next to me, I huff in aggravation at Jasper getting out so early.
Just as Rosalie takes her second turn and is running for first base, Alice yells out a warning, “Stop!”
After a few seconds and hearing something that clearly Bella and I fail to pick up with our human ears, the family not gathered around us returns to our sides in a hurry.
“They were leaving and then they heard us-“
“Let’s go.” Edward cuts off Alice to grab for Bella, but Carlisle stops his son.
“It’s too late.”
Jasper is at my side as the rest of his family shuffled around us, “What’s happening?” I ask him worriedly.
“Vampires, they heard us playing and are on their way here.” He answers me completely serious, zipping up his jacket that I’m wearing. “Stay behind me, don’t move and don’t attract their attention.”
“Jas-“
“No one touches you.” He meets my eyes as his words send ice through my veins, will it come to that?
I will my heart to calm as I get shuffled to stand behind him and Emmett, I rest a hand on Jasper’s back to anchor myself.
I can’t see them from my hiding spot, but I hear one with a slight accent, “I believe this belongs to you?”
“Thank you.” Carlisle replies curtly.
“I am Laraunt, this is Victoria and James.”
“I’m Carlisle, this is my family.” I feel Jasper tense under my hand like he’s concentrating. Readying for a fight? What do I do if this turns into a vampire brawl?
I turn to look at Edward over my shoulder but he doesn’t meet my gaze and Bella has her head turned down. Hiding her eyes I realize - her human eyes, acting shy in the face of new vampires so that they might not be interested in her.
Carlisle and the one speaking for the group, Laraunt, continue their efficient conversation as I step closer to Jasper. From this position I can see all three strangers and fear begins to worm it’s way into my chest. I’ve become so comfortable with the Cullens’ that I’ve forgotten they’re vampires. Vampires as dangerous as the ones before me look, minus the red eyes.
The tall one missing a shirt, James presumably since Laraunt and Carlisle are still conversing, seems to lock in on Bella and Edward. The grip I have on Jasper tightens and he reaches a hand back to pat the outside of my thigh in reassurance at his earlier statement.
“So, could you use three more players?” My heart almost stops, how do we get out of this? “Come on, just one game?”
Seemingly reading my mind, Carlisle plays along with a little chuckle, “Sure, why not. A few of us were leaving, you could take their place.” I feel Jasper’s arm nudge me in the direction of Edward and Bella, a sign to join their departure.
“We’ll bat first.” Carlisle announces, throwing the ball to the newcomers as our group begins to separate.
“I’m the one with the wicked curve ball.” The female, Victoria taunts in a low voice.
Jasper let’s out a low laugh, “Well I think we can handle that.”
As everyone begins to take their new places and I make my way towards Bella, I notice that one of the new males seems zoned-in on Edward, or rather, Bella. Next thing I know, a breeze shifts Bella’s hair and my heart shudders in my chest - the wind, our scent-
“You brought a snack?” James threatens as he leans into a crouch. Snapping his gaze to me as I let out a gasp, “Two snacks?”
Jasper let’s out a deep growl as he lunges in front of me, the rest of his family surrounding Bella and I in a protective stance.
“The girls are with us.” Carlisle asserts, “I think it best if you leave.”
“I can see the game is over, we’ll go now.” The one in charge tries to placate the tense situation. “James.”
As the new vampires turn to leave, Carlisle urges Edward and Jasper, “Get Bella and Y/n out of here, go!”
The four of us jog back to Emmett’s Jeep, Jasper keeping me from stumbling in the mud.
“Okay I’ve got it-I’ve got it, I’m alright!” Bella yells at Edward while he tries to buckle her in. “What, n-now he’s coming after me? Us?”
“Listen to me-James is a tracker, the hunt is his obsession. I read his mind, our reaction on the field set him off. We just made this his most exciting game ever, he’s never going to stop.” Edward explains, frantic in his words and his driving.
“So what do we do?” Bella panics.
“We kill him-“ Jasper starts.
“Rip him apart and burn the pieces.” Edward finishes.
“Where are we going?”
“Away from Forks. We’ll get a ferry to Vancouver.”
“I have to go home, now. You have to take me home.” Bella orders him.
“You can’t go home, he’s just going to trace your scent there-it’s the first place he’s going to look.”
My chest constricts, my mom. Jasper grabs my hand, no doubt feeling my growing fear. “My mom.” I whisper to him as his eyes bounce between mine searching for what to say.
“My dad is there!-“
“It doesn’t matter!”
“Yes it does! He could get killed because of us! What about Y/n’s mom?!”
“Just let me get you out of here first, alright? Neither one of you are safe.”
“It’s my dad, we have to go back!” She argues back, exasperated. “We’ll figure out a way to lead the tracker away somehow-I don’t know, but we have to do something!”
“Jasper, you have to take me home.” I plead with him while squeezing his hand.
“Darlin’, I-“
“I’ll go anywhere you want me to, I just need to make sure she’s okay! If I disappear, she’ll hunt me down.” I try to reason with him, short of panicking myself.
Pulling up at Bella’s house, both her and Edward leap out of their seats and for the door. Just as Bella slams the front door in his face putting on a show, Jasper hops in the driver’s seat and peels out of the driveway in the direction of my house.
“You go inside, make up a reason to leave tonight. I’ll wait in the car, but if you aren’t out in five minutes, I’m coming in to get you.” He orders me and I nod.
“Thank you, I can’t leave her without saying anything… Thank you, Jasper.”
“Don’t thank me yet, I’m taking you far from here until this is settled.” His voice steady even though my life is turning upside down as we speak.
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As the large vehicle rumbles to a stop just in front of my porch, I leap from my seat. The light above the door flicking on, my mother swings it open before my fingers could grab the handle.
“Everything alri-“
“No, mom.” I brush past her to ascend the stairs. “Bella is leaving for her mom’s tonight, I need to go with her!”
“Sweetheart, it’s too late for a drive like that!” She says, chasing me.
“She can’t drive by herself, she needs me mom! I can make sure she’s safe and keep you updated.” I plead with her as I throw random articles of clothing in my empty gym bag.
“Y/n, you can’t-“
“Mom,” I turn to her, dead serious, “I’m going whether you let me or not. She’s my best friend and she needs to leave. I can at least make sure she’s okay and gets to her mom’s. I’ll turn around and come right back afterwards!”
“Your phone stays on and charged.” She says with her hands on her hips, “I call, you better answer after the first ring. Anything - and I mean anything happens, you call me and Chief Swan immediately, Y/n Y/m/n.”
“Yes ma’am.” I snatch my bag and give her a hug as I rush out of my room. “I love you.” I murmur into her shoulder.
“You’re my world, sweetheart. Please be careful?” I nod, “I love you too.”
After a peck to my head, I race down the stairs and back out to the Jeep.
“It’s going to be alright.” Jasper tries to soothe me, both with his words and an artificial wave of calm.
“Don’t.” I bristle, “Nothing about this is alright.”
Immediately the foreign feeling vacates me and a coldness slides into my chest. I know he was only trying to help me, but I can’t take it, I can’t take the easy way out right now. So I glance out my window as the trees rush past on our way to his house.
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• March 13th, 2005 • Cullen Residence •
Jasper
This day-this whole thing is fucked. And not at all how I saw this weekend going. I promised her mother I would keep her safe and now a fucking group of nomadic vampires is hunting her and Isabella.
Three vampires aren’t really much when it comes to my family of seven, but seeing as I’m the only one trained to… deal with the dispatching of vampires besides Carlisle, the odds aren’t great that we all come out of this unscathed.
And Y/n. This fragile human that already means so much to me is caught in the middle, caught up in my dangerous world. I told her that nothing and no one touches her and I meant it. If I can be sure of one thing, I know I can do this for her.
Slamming on the breaks as the Jeep slides into the garage, I grab Y/n’s hand as she meets me behind the vehicle. I tried to soothe her worry after we left her house, but I obeyed her request to stop. I almost feel useless - not being allowed to do what I do best and fix emotions, but I know her sense of autonomy shouldn’t be infringed upon if I want her to let me in. I slam the button to shut the garage door to shield us from potential prying eyes and make my way across the enclosed space.
“What now?” Y/n asks me as I throw her bag in the trunk of Carlisle’s Mercedes.
“I stay with you, no matter what. You and Isabella, I can protect the both of you.” I turn and meet her gaze, resting a hand on her cheek in reassurance. “You are mine to protect and I take that charge very seriously.” My words snatch her breath, so I give her a half-smile.
“After… everything, you’re not opposed to violence, Hale?”
“For you? Violence is my middle name, darlin’.” Before I could comment on the shudder the wracks through her and the arousal trickling into her scent and emotions, my family rejoins us in the garage.
Snatching the keys to the Mercedes Emmett tosses my way, I seperate myself from Y/n.
“I’ve had to fight our kind before,” I hesitate choosing my words, glancing at Y/n, “We’re not easy to kill.”
“But not impossible.” My brother responds.
“I don’t relish the thought of killing another creature, even a sadistic one like James.” Carlisle laments.
“What if he kills one of us first?” Rose questions harshly from her seat on the counter.
“I’m going to run Bella south and lead the tracker away from here-“ but Carlisle stops Edward before he could finish.
“No, Edward. James knows you’d never leave Bella. He’ll follow you.” My adoptive father glances at me, “Jasper-“
“I’m not leaving her.” I level my gaze on Carlisle and boost my words with my power, “None of you are trained like me, I stay with what he wants - the girls.”
“I’ll go with them, Jasper and I will drive them south.” Alice pipes up, “I’ll keep her safe, Edward.”
“Can you keep your thoughts to yourself?” I can feel Alice’s hesitation in what I feel is her confidence in the outcome of all this.
I will that emotion away immediately, nothing will hinder a positive outcome in this scenario. Y/n and Isabella will make it through this unscathed and James will die, end of story. Nothing threatens what’s mine or my family’s and lives, nothing.
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xythlia · 5 months
Text
— ❛ metamorphosis ❜
inspired by the greek myth of pygmalion and galatea, the sculptor who loved his creation so much he begged aphrodite to turn her flesh and blood so she would be his wife
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› satoru x f!reader
› word count : 2k+
warnings : angst, m masturbation, mention of death but nothing explicit, readers a curse & a marble statue, something something be careful what you wish for (possibly gonna do a pt two because obviously reader came back wrong™)
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Everyone who needs to know, knows how a curse is formed. Knows exactly where they come from and for the most part why. But Satoru could never wrap his head around why you chose to haunt him, and like this.
After your initial death it manifested as peculiar visions caught in his peripheral, a flash of white that dissipated the second any of his six eyes tried focusing on it. But the feeling of it, god it felt just like you. And it was so like you to play some elaborate little joke, even after death. As if your entire death had been one elaborate joke and not the second greatest heartache of his life.
He'd been careful, so painfully careful about controlling himself and not letting the despair of losing you suffocate him lest this be the outcome. He didn't want to see you that way. Instead throwing himself into teaching, into the present, lest he become shackled by the past even more than he already was. He tried so very, very hard to let you go.
But apparently it wasn't really up to him, because as the years passed you gained more and more substance, more form, and seemingly felt more emboldened to no longer hide in the corners of his eyes but forcing yourself front and center.
And what a odd form you took.
A statue. Innocuous at first glance but he was never one to take anything at face value. It was like you were carved by a sculptor par excellence, birthed not from chisel but as if from the universe itself. Every detail, down to the most miniscule, lovingly rendered in breathtaking relief. So much tenderness held captive in your hardened, unseeing eyes. A hand held aloft in an almost loving, beckoning position.
As the days passed he spent more and more time focused on you, on your appearance and looking at it not as a curse but perhaps the strangest of blessings. You hadn't come back as some thing all teeth or claws, in fact you never moved a muscle. Just like all the earthly sculptures bedecked in various museums around the world you stood much the same.
With each day came a new bauble he would fix to your marble form, a flower held here or there to your hair with scotch tape, his favorite scarf wrapped around your cool to the touch neck. This evolved into a sort of... ritual over time. It was something he took greater joy in than he would ever admit. Quiet nights spent murmuring to you, not minding that you never answered. You didn't need to. It wasn't as sophisticated as telepathy but just the same it was like he could feel your feelings in response to whatever he was saying while rearranging and redressing your stone body.
In rare moments when his fingers would brush against the stone he could almost swear it felt warm, as if just seconds away from giving beneath his fingertips like melting wax, and in the next second you'd be shrieking with laughter at being accidentally tickled by him.
Just like back then.
It did mystify him a bit, why you chose a marble statue and why you remain so silent and still. Maybe it would hurt too much otherwise, so he doesn't press you to speak or try to change your shape. It was just like when you were still here, he would've loved you no matter what so why would it be any different like this?
But still, he feels all the same longing he felt then. The need to touch you, hold you, see your back arching off his bed and feel your fingers gripping against his shoulder blades. The saccharine cries of his name from your lips, prayer like and spurring him on move deeper, harder.
His hands tremble against your inert ones, tears blurring you in watercolor relief as the world loses its focus. His breathing became laborious as he rested his forehead against you, always so cold to the touch. It did little to ground him against the tidal wave of grief soaked desire that rushed around his mind.
Without conscious thought his hand slid down his torso, palming at his aching erection through his sweatpants. It was obscene, even thinking about doing something like this with a curse but for better or worse he was devoid of thought in this moment. His lips pressed sloppy, open mouthed kisses to your alabaster skin as he rolled the waistband down, feeling his throbbing cock smack against his abdomen.
Satoru hissed feeling the warm weight of his cock in hand, the pressure felt good and a soft sigh fell from his lips as his eyes fluttered closed. Retreating into memory as his other hand gripped the frigid marble, so hard he was afraid for half a moment that it would bruise before remembering himself.
He licked the palm of his hand, wishing it was your tongue sliding against the veins of his cock before wrapping it around the shaft, stroking slowly at first and alternating to swipe his thumb over his flushed tip, practically dripping precum.
He's called back to a memory from early in your relationship, showering together for the first time mostly out of utility after being on a particularly lengthy mission. The way you'd slid your hands down his body, across his back and over his stomach had made his heart feel like someone strapped electric cables to it.
Its harder to hold back as he falls headlong into it, remembering how your hands looked wrapped around his cock, fingertips straining to meet around the full thickness of him. The thrill of it sends shivers down his spine, makes him pump himself faster.
You'd look otherworldly on your knees in front of him now, eyes teary and cheeks hollow as you struggle to take all of him down your throat but you were always so eager to please, especially when it came to him. Satoru can feel the coil tightening in his gut, and before he was truly ready it's already happening, thick milky spurts splashing against your skin and his balls throbbing so hard his thigh muscles even tensing up in response. It took monumental effort to keep himself steady, braced against your solid form as his cum decorated you with the most pornographic accessory yet.
As his breathing steadied he was overcome with the fact that he hates himself for this.
Hates you a little bit too.
How pathetic, to be reduced to masturbating against this lifeless vision of you. To play dress up with it. To speak and laugh with it as if it's his closest confidant.
Just as he felt himself on the brink of the emotional abyss of grief something caught his eye, making his breath hitch and it was as if all time stopped.
The color of the marble was different.
So subtle that he nearly missed it, but it was undeniable. Ever so slightly the pallor of your skin had shifted, as if the color was bleeding through slowly.
For the first time in a long while Satoru wept.
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undercoverpena · 1 year
Note
Hi Jo! Love the idea of #mmvalentinesevent! Could I please request Ghost x Rain, and specifically Rain freaking out because Ghost was reckless and risked his life for a USB? Was that when Ghost fell in love? Happy Valentines xx
retrieve it.
simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader (rain!reader)
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an: a huge thank you to @ave661 for allowing me to use this beautiful image. i’d written the scene, seen the render, and it was like two worlds colliding in the most brilliant way. thank you, i adore you
wc: 1.6k | an: no warnings, little anxiety/worry. i changed the prompt a little, as i wanted to do them established already for v-day ♥️
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It mirrors it. The mission that first made you realise you didn’t just admire him, but had feelings for your lieutenant.
It was the one that haunted your nightmares, more so now, than it had done at the time. The one which shattered your small world, making it hard to think of anything but him.
He almost became a ghost. A real one.
Something he knows, but won’t admit. Likely knowing there are more times than he can count where it’s been that close or worse.
And you should be listening as Price gives the rest of them a role, a part to play. You don’t hear him, don’t even take the file from the table. Everything was the same, anyway.
You’re with Soap. You’re the one staring down the scope—you’re the one protecting his six. You’re drowning, dazed…
Words are simply circling, but not sinking in. Your nose heightened to his deodorant suddenly, to the way his skin smells when you’re nose is pressed against his chest. You’re not even close to him. But your body reaches for him, clings to him—attempting to smother the building worry:
People aren’t that lucky.
He’d walked from it last time—fire whipping around him, scorch marks having kissed his clothes and exposed skin. It’s not that you ever focus on, but the minute that felt like an hour when he wasn’t responding. When his radio crackled, and you realised that you liked him—that you cared, that you—
You’re panicking a whole metre away from him. No way close enough for him to tell. But he does. His eyes lock with yours under the balaclava, digging his pupils into your skin: I’m here, I’m here.
But for how long?
They all tease Soap for being the first to rush into danger, to throw himself on the grenade. But, Simon isn’t that different. He’s more methodical, having likely come to a calculated conclusion rather than reactionary, but he still throws himself against danger. His isn’t to be a hero, but to pay a due—one he doesn’t even owe.
It’s why you keep replaying Price’s words from minutes ago—
We can’t fuck this. Ghost. You’ll b’going in alone, y’retrieve the USB…
Price knows he’ll do it. Knows without fucking question. It almost makes you a little mad at your captain.
Because Ghost will pull apart buildings, rip through people, and willingly throw himself into flames for the mission—for the cause.
It’s all you can think of. It’s all that plays in your mind. Untangling and tangling again, like a pair of headphones which have been in your pocket for too long.
“Meeting adjourn—“
You’re out of the room before anyone else. Your boots slamming and echoing down corridors, t-shirt suddenly too tight, belt too restrictive…
Panic.
That’s what you feel. It makes your arm throb, it makes the scars littered along your skin burn. It makes you want to claw—practically consuming you. Filling you from the ankles to your forehead, suffocating you, wrapping its hands around your heart and lungs as it squeezes and squeezes and—
You almost slam through the door. The one which leads to an empty room—a former office. A desk and a chair are all that remain as evidence that they belonged to someone once. A desk and chair you and Ghost have made use of when you truly need time alone—no interruptions, no risk of being caught.
You could seat yourself in the chair, but you slide onto the desk. Pushing your back against the jagged brick, letting your feet hang, moving them forwards and backwards.
Calming.
It works, sometimes. Roots you. You trying to keep yourself level-headed. Breathing in and out, trying to stuff it all down, and yet, you’re failing—badly. Mind tumbling, falling aimlessly through your neck, chest and stomach.
You can’t lose him.
It’s what builds inside of you, occasionally being drilled like a woodpecker against your skull. You had thought the same then, and didn’t—hadn’t. But, the helplessness never eased, even when he held you close. The emptiness you felt, when he entered the building, but took so long to come out.
That same emptiness has worsened over time, developed into something thicker and harder to ignore. It multiplies, in the same way, your feelings for him have.
Rain doesn’t wash away ghosts, but it falls similarly to how you have for him. Quickly, significantly. It sits on your chest when he stares at you in silence, when his calloused touch brushes over your cheek, softly, intimately.
None of them knows.
None of them would have even considered that you love him, and that he… feels something close to it. They don’t know. None of them understood the anger he felt when your arm was dislocated; none of them comprehended why anger had burst out of you when he was nearly shot because of shoddy intel.
They don’t know, because they don’t have it: a secret which erodes in your chest, one that makes it hard to think. You sigh, and then you hear it—footsteps, one’s which seem to slow your pulse back to a regular rhythm.
He always has that effect on you. The same as he always finds you.
It almost makes you wonder if he’s akin to a heat-seeking missile. Never missing, never too far away from locating you. You’d ask him, whether he had a sixth sense, but you’re not sure you can talk.
Ghost says nothing as he steps in, but he’s rolled his sleeves up. His ink and veins on show as he walks towards you in silence, the door meeting the frame the only thing to shatter the quiet.
Before he came to your home, Ghost stalked towards you. Since then, he walks. Each movement he does towards you is more rounded, less jagged.
“In and out.”
He says it so confidently you snort. He’s always confident—it’s Simon who isn’t.
Ghost is clinical, emotionless, and withdrawn—and rightly so, for the things he’s had to do. It’s Simon who can’t consider the possibility that someone is waiting for him—the former not allowing himself to consider he’s worth it.
“Rain.”
You lift your chin at your callsign, finding him standing in front of you. His bare hand slowly slid over your knee, your legs parting—just enough to let him move a little closer.
It’s gentle, almost confusingly so. The two of you rarely share these moments, the quiet ones, the ones where so much is said, but with eyes and softer gestures.
You focus on the scratch fabric of his trousers catching on your inner knees and thighs as he steps between your legs, nudging the desk you’re placed on.
He says nothing, and neither do you.
A flash of memories fluttering like the wings of butterflies: him at your one-person table, him in your bed—your sheets; him finding you in the showers, him bringing you a can of Coke… just because.
It’s his palm sliding up the outside of your thigh that makes you really meet his gaze. Not afraid or ashamed of the tears brewing in them, your lips parting, but the words don’t fall—don’t roll from your tongue…
I need you alive. I need you.
Your hands, though, take hold of his top—burning the words as hard as you can into the fabric, hoping he hears you. Not sure if you can spit them out. Even if your heart is bellowing it, furiously banging on your ribs to get him to hear you.
“It’s not like then.”
“No?” you murmur.
He shakes his head, silent, but direct.
“You’ll do anything to finish a mission.”
He nods, tracing a circle on your outer thigh, making your skin tingle. “I will.”
“You… you put yourself in danger, and… I admire it, fuck I love that about you, but…”
“I have you.”
You feel your brows furrow before you’re even sure you hear him. His words smothering the ones from Price—the ones which hadn’t dislodged for prayers or hopes. Only him.
He swallows, lifting his other hand to your cheek, holding your eyes on his. “I have you, and you like me alive.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, sharply. Nodding softly against his palm as he sighs.
“In and out.”
“In and out.”
He gives a curt nod, slowly lowering his forehead against yours, fingers strumming your thigh and your cheek.
“Plus, your scope will b’on me,” he gruffly whispers.
“I-It will.”
He strokes his thumb over your chin. “Then I’ll be fine.”
You hate his confidence, the pressure which falls in flecks onto your shoulders.
“No one I trust more to have my back, Rain.”
“You’re just saying that—”
He lifts his head, tilting your chin up, staring down into your soul through the blacks of your eyes. “Not to you. I never say… not to you, alright?”
You nod, rolling your lips as you sigh. Unsure whether you should say it, let the words kiss the air, until they fall from your tongue all the same—
“I love you alive, Simon.”
His eyes widen at the chance in word. The noticeable difference from like to love.
Your hands balling up against his clothing, his hand gripping your thigh. Perfection. That’s what you think as you hold on for as long as you both can, making sure he knows you mean them. Your words.
Then you feel it, his heart hammering more purposefully against your wrist, as you clutch onto him a little tighter.  
And then, he lifts the fabric from his chin, letting you see soft pink and stubble, before he kisses a reply against your lips, over and over again.
One which burns in all the right ways; one which you carry with you, as you make sure he’s safe as you stare down the scope.
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rewh0re · 3 months
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—968 words, angst, death, deep talks about life, cemeteries. yea ig that's it. yea also wrote this at 3 am guys i am mighty sleep deprived
a/n; atp I'm doing everything BUT studying or writing my gojo fic :D (gojo fic someday you'll see the light till then this megumi angst has to compensate for it) REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED!!
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megumi can never truly forget that memory.
he remembers clear blue skies and the occasional chirping of birds along with the flapping of their wings. white clouds slowly drifting in the air and dragonflies hovering over the grass. the trees were green and lush, the leaves gently rustling due to the cool breeze which could mean one thing alone—the advent of spring. there was a silence that washed his body with a strange type of peace, a peace he had never quite known, that he had just allowed himself to feel. and there was a presence—you—standing beside him, looking at the unknown grave, head tilted slightly and hands deep in your pockets.
he couldn't help but think—there was so much life bursting amidst a place that housed the dead.
megumi never liked cemeteries. they made him sad, unhappy, gloomy in a way. but you found a certain peace in them. to walk in silence, looking at the many graves—you had said it calmed one's soul. made one think. made one feel grateful for their life.
"it's almost amusing, don't you think?" you had asked, breaking your silence.
"dead people amuse you now?" megumi looked over at you to find you still looking at the grave. how could it ever be amusing to look at a stranger's grave? he swore that sometimes even you didn't understand what you were saying.
"no idiot," you shook your head, a little chuckle bursting out of your throat as your eyes locked with his.
"what i mean is," you sighed "that these people, they were people, like you and me. they had dreams and hopes and aspirations. they worked hard for their passions and hoped to achieve so much through their efforts. isn't it awful how many of these people might never have reached their dreams? their lives cut short as they were snatched away from their own loved ones?"
you ruffled your hair before crossing your arms, "i find it unfair. isn't it unfair? how you never know what will happen? how you, me—all of us—will just become another memory to be forgotten? how we'll just become dust, become one with the earth? our names, just some carvings on some stones and even then—everything will just go on as it is. life will go on. we're just lone stars burning out in the massive universe."
megumi could only look at you. you had that effect on him, rendering him speechless through your words alone. a few seconds passed before he finally found his voice again.
"well," he began, tone laced with a certain gentleness that only showed itself in your presence. "i see it more like the beauty of life. we're here and then we're not. we live and we love and we thrive and we falter. it's the way of life, or the rule of life, whatever you call it. i think that's why we have to make sure we make the most of it. life is unpredictable and that's what makes it so thrilling."
"i think you're right—well—in a way at least. i've learnt to cherish my life. i think with you by my side, i can stand strong and proud and i can live. i'm glad you found me and i found you and i'm glad that we're always by each other's side," you smiled up at him, nudging his shoulder.
"always?"
"always."
wasn't that the promise you made?
it was like looking through a glass window, so vividly was that day's image imprinted on his mind. he wanted to break that glass and take a hold of that memory and relive it again and again and again if it meant he could have you by his side. he definitely would do that if he could.
life is not really beautiful he learnt after he started visiting the cemetery more often. it was cruel, it was ruthless, it filled one with agony and suffering and pain. oh, so much pain.
he never looked at random graves anymore like he did before with you. no, he looked at just one. the name etched on the stone with a few leaves scattered at the base—l/n y/n.
it hurt, it truly did. through you, megumi learnt love and loss, he learnt heartbreak and grief and what it felt like to cry in the middle of the night wishing for you to hold him close and whisper i'm here. you never were though, you wouldn't be there anymore, you wouldn't cradle him and card your fingers softly through his hair or wipe his tears or kiss his worries away. you wouldn't and that was reality and he had to live with that reality.
megumi learnt through you how promises were only made to be broken—knowingly or unknowingly.
but you taught him how to love and to be loved, how to find beauty and peace in the mundane, how to dream big and how to care, to be kind.
he loved you but he had to let you go. alas, you wouldn't want him to be stuck, frozen in a place where darkness loomed and nothing but sheer heartache reigned supreme. maybe it was true that a part of him was gone. maybe it was true that he would never feel truly and completely whole again. but he could swear your ghost would curse at him if he didn't at least try to move forward.
so he laid a bouquet of white carnation at the base of your grave, uttering a silent prayer.
"always." he brought his index and middle finger to his lips and then placed it on the top of the headstone before standing up, burying his hands deep in his coat pockets.
"always." he whispered, letting his words get carried by the air before turning around to walk away.
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tonkatsubowl · 8 months
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false love iii.
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jing yuan x fem!reader
nsfw themes (cursing and stuff i think. mentions of domestic abuse and self harm. mentions of suicide. no, jing yuan aint hurting u bb girl). read at your own risk. english isn’t my first language, so please don’t mind the grammatical errors. (っ◞‸◟ c)
⪩ arranged marriage. the reader and jing yuan have an arranged marriage and she is stuck, disliking every moment of it, until…
TERM DIRECTORY ◖y/n: your name ◖e/c: eye color ◖h/c: hair color ◖l/n: last name
requested tags ➽ @mythicalamphitrite @20forty9
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part one. / part two. / part four. / part five. / part six. / part seven.
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"⸻wait, how much did he say he was going to pay us?"
"almost an entire fortune. enough for me to bed many women, to purchase a few homes..."
"c'mon, man. be specific. like how many credits?"
"eh. a million."
"wh⸻...a...a-a million!? you're crazy!? just to sell this girl off or even kill her?"
"i wasn't gonna plan on killing her...yet. i was planning on having my own fun with her. then i was gonna carry out the murder. he said he wanted her head or something."
"eh, i don't blame you for the fun part. she's got a good lookin' body. beautiful too. but you sure you can lop her head off?"
"c'mon, it's just a head you gotta lop off."
"damn, dude, sounds like you did this shit before..."
two voices. two unfamiliar voices. two voices that belonged to men that you didn't recognize at all. you were unable to really see anything, nor did you have the ability to speak. but you were listening quietly.
you were blindfolded and a cloth was wrapped over your mouth. your hands were tied behind your back, rendering you useless to do anything. you didn't know where you were at, but you had woken up from a deep slumber. as you listened, you took notes in your head...
selling you...murder. assaulting you. then being paid by a man of great fortune. you were scared, definitely. but you were not surprised by the doom you were facing at this very moment. you were expecting to face some sort of monstrosity in your life one way or another. now here you are.
"she still asleep over there?" you hear one of the voices say.
you hear one of them turn, the shuffle of their clothing was a clear indication for it. "yeah. seems so. the drug you gave her is a hard ass one, huh?"
"yeah, it should knock her out for a while."
"man, take off the blindfold off of her. i wanna see what she actually looks like."
that's when you froze in place, hearing them come closer to you as their footsteps approached you. you held your breath, feeling their measly large hands come forward to remove the blindfold that concealed your beautiful eyes. then, upon the removal of the fabric, you saw the world again... though you didn't know where you were at, really. you saw two men. both of them were dressed in casual attire, and it was scarily enough that they looked like average xianzhou citizens. but the look on their eyes revealed nothing but pure cruelty and evil intent.
"oh, you are awake." one of them cooed to you as he purred. his disgusting hand lifting towards your chin, raising your head with the curl of his index finger. "morning, beautiful." his raunchy breath hit your face, and how badly you wanted to smack him across the face with a brick. but you couldn't.
the drug had caused you to become weak, but for some reason...there was something stirring inside of you. something telling you not to give up, despite the troubles and dangers that lead you upon this path.
"we're gonna have some fun soon, beautiful," the stranger licked his lips, his breath reeking of heavy liquor and cigarettes. "your little daddy paid us to get rid of you."
your father...paid them?
your eyes were dull, solemn...lifeless and dead. it was as though you were an empty doll with no soul residing within yourself. unfortunately, you were used to this sort of...treatment. being used, hit...why haven't you just died yet? you weren't surprised, either.
...but this feeling inside of you...it still continued to stir. something about this situation...something about you. something that you felt within was blossoming.
...no. i don't want to die like this. i don't want to die. not when i just now became free.
it was like the thought of jing yuan had snapped you back to reality, your eyes now glimmering with some sort of ray of hope. your eyes brightened, as though gaining hope once more. you hear jing yuan's voice repeating back in your head, as though reminding you of your new purpose in life. your new freedom, the freedom that you deserved.
"i want to make it known to you that i want you to live comfortably here and freely. my home is now your home, y/n."
"alright, little lady. lemme just," the criminal extended both hands, his fingers grabby at your clothing, "get rid of this little piece of thing and we'll have some⸻"
gaining momentum in your legs, you force yourself up, headbutting into the man's head. you hit directly at his nose, causing blood to sputter from his nostrils and for him to stumble back.
"you little⸻you little bitch!"
his ally extended a hand towards you, grabbing you by the chin. this was mistake on his end, considering he basically let loose of the cloth that went around your mouth. using this as an opportunity, you bit at his hand, teeth biting and digging into his flesh. the taste of his own blood in your mouth... suddenly, you had a burst of energy inside of you.
you can't die.
you can't die here. not when you had a future with jing yuan to live for, now! this freedom, this...
"garg⸻! you bitch!" retracting his arm back, one of the criminals retrieved a knife from himself. "we're gonna teach you a fuckin' lesson now, you cunt!"
your eyes froze, lingering on the knife...but you can't just freeze in fear, anymore. it was time for you to run. that was when you bolted off in the opposite direction, your hands still tied around your back. your heart was aching, racing, your eyes were wide. you never felt this much energy in your legs before. never had you ever felt this unfamiliar burst of energy that allowed you to...want to live.
jing yuan...was this your doing? where were you?
unfortunately, you felt yourself fall when a heavy weight was shifted upon you, crushing you against the pavement of the ground. you cried in pain as you fell, feeling one of the bones in your shoulder breaking. you panicked, looking to the side, seeing the criminal's wide face and the blood that oozed from his nose.
"damn right we're gonna teach you a fucking lesson." that was when he grabbed the back of your clothing.
"stop⸻!" you shut your eyes tightly, embracing the worst of it all...
...until⸻
"gyaaa!" the sound of blood and flesh being torn had filled your ears instead. you felt the weight from your back basically relief itself from your body. you heard a loud 'thud!', and your eyes slowly open...
you were shaking. you were breathing uncontrollably. you couldn't think. you were panicking. your mind was on fight or flight mode.
"what the...the general!?" you hear one of the criminals say in the background, then some noises in regards to conflict.
"fuck⸻fuck! you little⸻" the sound of ice piercing into one's flesh were bliss to your ears, but you were unable to process anything at this very moment.
your eyes came to a soft close, and your body was carefully scooped into a pair of strong arms. you were breathing, and the voice of your familiar husband was murmured into your ear,
"i'm sorry for taking so long, y/n. you're safe now."
you were losing the sense of your surroundings. you barely felt his nose nuzzle into your cranium as he held you close to his chest.
then, another set of footsteps...lighter ones. these footsteps stop at your side, introducing yanqing's voice. "general! they're ready to be taken in custody, however one of them is..."
"that's fine," jing yuan replied, "being taken in prisoner is too much of a blessing for them. killing them, granting them death is something that wouldn't even be enough for them. they deserve a fate much more cruel than just imprisonment and death. i pray that the aeons will punish them further."
"...i see. hm. how is lady y/n doing? her shoulder... it's..."
"she's alive and well, besides her shoulder," jing yuan said, "yanqing. prepare the infirmary immediately."
"yes sir."
you were exhausted, incredibly so. everything on your body hurt, especially your shoulder. it felt like something was burning, something was on fire—but once your adrenaline had died out, the rest of your body began to hurt... and god, this was the price for survival, wasn't it?
pain in your body was almost unbearable. but luckily, it died out immediately when you had opened your eyes... there were nurses nearby working their best to recover you. one nurse in particular was speaking to you in a soothing voice, but you couldn't make out the words. the others were changing your bandages, and the others were bringing you a wet towel, placing it over your head.
"....—fever. she........ feve—"
... huh? who had a fever?
oh, that's when you realized that the nurses were talking about you. that was the moment when everything had hit you immediately.
you were struggling to breathe. your body felt hot. yet, you were so cold. you were practically shivering under the blankets. luckily enough, you were in safe and good hands.
your vision was still a blur as you were still waking up. you recognized a familiar, ash-blonde—silver male approaching you.
... jing yuan?
you were too exhausted to even try to focus. your eyes came to a close again, forcing you to rest once more...
"how is she?" yanqing asked jing yuan as he walked up towards his general's side, his eyes peeling towards your sleeping body.
"y/n's well. it seems she's caught a fever, as well. i feel terrible for this situation, truth to be told..."
"i cant... exactly blame you for feeling that, general. you both were recently wed, and now..."
jing yuan looked towards his lieutenant, "mm. how was the interrogation?"
"well, he was afraid enough to reveal the truth to why y/n was captured. according to his testimony, y/n's father had paid them to sell her away, or to get rid of her entirely. he admitted that his friend was going to... well, bed her."
there was a sour look on jing yuan's face.
"...her father... selling her? but the marriage practically allowed her to be away from her family. why did he want to hire these men to kill her?"
yanqing shook his head. "that, i am unsure, sir. i had asked him the same question, and he did not know. there was no lie to his words during the interrogation. a man who fears for his life would never lie."
jing yuan was silent. "... yanqing. please remain by her side closely when i cannot be around her physically. something about this situation irks me, and i have no choice but to interrogate this matter... discreetly."
yanqing nods, kneeling respectfully. "yes, general."
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yanderes-galore · 1 year
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heyyyyy,
so i really loved your self-aware ethan winters and was hoping you could write a scenario with ethan finding a way to leave the game and darling is just wondering why is a man in the middle of the room
sending all my good vibes so you have a great day <3
sorry if there's any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language
Ah, sure! I'll see what I have, I never thought of continuing it so I'll try 😊 Thanks for the good vibes, your english is fine 💜 May be a bit tame, struggled a bit but did what I could for Ethan's yandere behavior!
Self-Aware! Ethan Winters Concept
Real
Yandere! Self-Aware! Ethan Winters Scenario
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Self-Aware game character, Swearing, Breaking and entering (?), Delusional behavior, Forced relationship, Poessessive themes, Cutting mention, Wounds.
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When you woke up the first thing you smelt was mold. The thought puzzled you at first. Black mold... the type of mold that develops during events like water damage.
But you never had any water damage in your home.
That was the first incident that puzzled you. The next was when you walked towards the room you kept your game system/PC in... only to be met with something stranger. A man was on his hands and knees in your house, looking bewildered.
The musky smell of mold got stronger when you got closer. When you saw the man you stayed quiet and gazed at his clothes. They were dirty... familiar.
It was like those of a video game character... Resident Evil in particular. You decide to test your luck... this must be a dream, right? Why would any of this be real?
Maybe you were smelling mold in your sleep?
"Ethan?" You find yourself saying. There was no way it actually was him, dream or not. You're stunned into silence again when the man looks up.
"You... You know my name!"
The mysterious man's tone is less of a question and more excitement. His face reminds you of the rendered models you'd seen of Ethan Winters online. Were you scared... or just confused?
"Sir... that's really your name?" You ask with hesitance, moving your hand to the pocket that holds your phone. The man sits up on his knees with an intense gaze on you.
"E-Ethan Winters."
"Like the game character?" You narrow your gaze.
"Game...?" Ethan looks around and sees your copy of Resident Evil 7/8 on the desk. He stares at it blankly for a moment before slowly nodding. "I guess so...."
"Where did you come from? How did you get in my house?"
Ethan looks puzzled again before slowly standing up.
"Um..." He looks towards your TV/monitor. "Supposedly from there?"
You're both bewildered and confused at this point.
"Explain yourself or I'm calling the police."
"Wait, wait, wait! I've come too far for that!" Ethan holds up his hands. "This may sound weird... but I do think I came from your game. I've been trying really hard to come here-"
"The hell are you talking about!?"
"I-I've been the person you've been playing in your... game." Ethan starts, still new to the concept himself. "I've wanted to meet you for a long time since you're the player... and I found a way!"
"You're trying to say you're a game character...."
"Yes!"
"... and I'm supposed to accept this is not a dream?"
Ethan frowns at your response.
"... I can prove it to you."
"Really?"
Ethan pulls out the knife he always has in the game and presses it to his arm. You look away with a grimace when he cuts his arm... but there's no blood. Only mold... the same mold you've been smelling.
Ethan Winters... the GAME character... was inside your home....
"No shit...."
"Believe me?"
"How can I not after... that-"
"Great!" Ethan cheers, stepping a bit closer. "It's so nice to meet you...?" Ethan says, expecting a name to call you. You give him your name. Ethan smiles, saying it's nice on the tongue.
"What brings you... here?"
"Not sure how I did it... but I wanted to meet you since you're the only thing real in my 'life'."
"Only thing real?"
"My life is merely a game in your world..." Ethan sighs. "Don't you get it? Nothing I know is real except this place. No Mia... No Rose...."
You frown. Putting it that way is... really sad. You never thought of it like that. Then again... video game characters aren't supposed to be real.
"Damn...." You mutter. Ethan asks to sit on your couch and you comply.
"None of it matters... not when I'm here now, at least." Ethan gives a small smile. "Maybe I can make a new life here."
His gaze on you is unnatural. It feels synthetic... you know that he isn't entirely human, and that's not just because of the mold. However... you're still trying to understand the situation you've just been thrust into.
"Could you... show me around?"
---
Ethan already knew how to make connections between items in your world and his. After all, his world was modeled after yours. As a result... Ethan adapted quickly.
You, however, struggled to grasp the concept of Ethan in your home. You didn't think you could get used to it. You didn't even know what to tell people.
Ethan treats you like you're his savior. He praises you for opening his eyes. He thanks you for allowing him to stay. You only allowed it as you weren't sure what else to do...
You can't release him into the public.
Living with him was strange. Mold was a frequent smell that invaded your nose no matter what you did to cover it up. You also noticed Ethan doesn't eat... sometimes he doesn't even sleep.
He's unnatural... an anomaly.
You tried to treat him like a friend. If others asked... you said he was just a friend! Ethan appeared to enjoy it when you called him a friend....
If anything, Ethan just wants to incorporate himself into your life.
In his eyes... your fates have been intertwined since you first played that game of yours...
Why wouldn't he cling to you? You're like partners!
Partners... soon, Ethan starts to think you're better than Mia. Mia isn't even real... but you are, just like him! You wouldn't mind if he inched your relationship towards something more... intimate, would you?
After all, he technically was designed for your entertainment one way or another.
You notice Ethan become overly sweet towards you. He's always been sweet and respectful due to his character. Over time... it gets concerning.
Ethan vows to dedicate his whole existence to you, his player. He wouldn't be where he is right now without you! As a result... he doesn't want to leave your side.
Ethan feels he's your type anyways! You seemed to like the game he was a part of a lot... and you mentioned he's really sweet at times... surely he can make this work! Even if he's not fully real compared to you.
Ethan is more like a synthetic lifeform compared to you... still born of code rather than flesh and blood.
Ethan realizes this may cause problems. Yet... he's patient. After all, he isn't going anywhere. There's nowhere to go for him.
Even if he could go back to the game, he'd rather stay where's it's real.
Truthfully, Ethan believes fate will bring you two together in the end. Even if you don't reciprocate his gentle touches. Even if you ignore his words of praise and adoration... he's confident.
There has to be a reason you released him from the game. There must be a reason he's so drawn to you. You're partners... for everything!
Clearly Ethan will be here for you until the end...
If you can't get rid of him, why not choose him as your next and only partner instead of looking for someone else?
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