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Yandere! Kyojuro Rengoku NSFW Profile

Yandere! Kyojuro Rengoku x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, mentions of non-con, dub-con, breeding, non-consensual touching, dry humping, masturbation, panty sniffing, a brief mention about virginity being sacred but no explicit mention of whether reader is a virgin or not, Kyojuro is a virgin tho so corruption kink kind of, pillow humping, coercion, allusions to lactation kink and pregnancy kink, choking, spitting, Kyo gets sex advice from Tengen, Kyo picks you up at one point but remember he's literally a Hashira and could pick anyone up no matter their weight, 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: 12K

HABITS:

In general, Kyojuro isn’t an incessantly horny man. Not only does he hold women in a high respect and doesn’t inherently sexualize them, but to be quite honest he simply doesn’t have time to be regularly indulging in sex or even masturbation. He’s a busy man, and when others are settled under their covers, either sleeping or moaning in another’s ear, he’s out in the dark, dangerous night hunting demons.

And so despite being in the sexual prime of his life, Kyojuro doesn’t have a huge amount of experience. He’s never considered actually touching a woman before, mostly because he didn’t feel the urge to and because he firmly believes in the idea of saving himself for his wife and life partner.

And even once you step into his life he doesn’t magically become some sex-crazed monster – eventually he is, sure, but it’s gradual. It takes a while to reach that stage, for him to both desire you enough and desire sex enough to be wasting his time fantasizing about you and your body.

Little seeds will be planted in his mind as the weeks and month pass, his obsession slowly developing and leaving him floundering when small, inappropriate thoughts begin seeping into the edges of his mind.

He’s noticing the way your kimono dips down just a bit one day – your collarbones are pretty, and he can’t help but have a fleeting thought of how soft the skin of your neck and shoulders must be.

(He’ll return home that night and try to forget that thought, going through an even more extensive training regime than normal, but even by the end of the some four hour session, he’s still imagining how the skin of your collarbones must taste.)

He’s suddenly noticing that your voice gets higher when you get flustered, the pitch raising just slightly, enough for him to notice and mentally file away for future reference.

(Would your voice get higher if he were to fluster you? How would you sound when he’s just kissed you, your lips swollen and your eyes dazed? How would you sound when he’s touching you, his hands settling at your waist or cupping your breasts, or perhaps even slowly, carefully dipping his fingers inside of you, feeling you tighten up and clench down and gasp and writhe and moan his name - )

He becomes acutely aware of the way you always seem to bend over to pick things up, your clumsiness coming into play as he finds himself unconsciously moving to stand so that he has an unobstructed view as you bend over, his eyes blatantly fixed on the curve of your ass, his lips slightly parted.

(He’s definitely thinking of that image later that night, one of his rare nights off, with his hand wrapped deathly tight around his cock as he imagines you bending over for him - perhaps over his dining table, or maybe even over his knee as he gropes and squeezes and plays with you.)

The thoughts feel largely out of place initially, more often than not leaving him slightly dazed and confused because he’s never thought about how soft and smooth a woman’s thighs must be, nor about how your hands feel so small in comparison to his: less calloused and rough and warmer.

It’s strange, but as his delusions grow deeper and his feelings for you only intensify, Kyojuro finds himself rationalizing that it isn’t so disrespectful to be thinking this way – you’re practically already courting, and while you may not yet possess the Rengoku name, you will soon enough.

And once you’re wed?

Well, surely you must know what married couples do – pleasuring one another, loving one another, spending hours tangled in the sheets with gasps and cries ringing through their ears, sweat and kisses and cum covering every inch of their bodies. And if that’s your future – which he’s positive it is – then what’s the harm in imagining it?

He imagines all sorts of domestic scenarios with you, so why should it matter if the clothing is removed and your pretty smile is replaced with a pretty moan?

It’s fine – and so, while he still doesn’t wring himself dry to you every day, he’s sure to settle down and explicitly imagine being with you in an intimate way at least three times a week – even if that means unzipping the pants of his uniform with a demon’s blood still staining his hands, freshly killed and sending adrenaline through his veins.

(Adrenaline that then gets channeled into imagining the way you’d be so proud of him for outsmarting the demon and successfully eliminating it – perhaps you’d be so proud that you’d be willing to get on your knees for him, your soft lips wrapping around him and sucking, your little moans making his head spin and your nimble fingers kneading and groping at his balls. Ah yes, what a lovely thought…)

So while he’s not the most horny yandere of his comrades, he’s certainly no saint. But really, how could he be when you’re so damn alluring?

When it comes to actually touching himself, Kyojuro finds that his pleasure comes easiest when he’s actually doing the work, actually putting effort into getting himself off. It feels okay to simply pump his fist up and down, but it’s not enough – because being with you would be so much more overwhelming, even just your body heat alone making the experience ten times more powerful, more intense, more enjoyable.

He wants to immerse himself in the fantasy of actually having your soft body to kiss and touch and love, and he finds the best way to really achieve this is to fuck something rather than fucking his fist. But he’s a loyal man, and would sooner end his life than fall into the arms of another woman, even if only for a night.

And so, he compromises by fashioning a pillow – one with a covering of your favorite color, of course – into a substitute for yourself.

And while it feels good to have the pillow at all, Kyojuro finds that even just the simple pillow isn’t enough – it needs more, to be more representative of you, to just be better at convincing him that it’s really your wet, warm cunt he’s sinking into with every thrust rather than the dense plush of the pillow.

And so, with dark ink, he musters up every bit of artistic talent he possesses and carefully, oh so carefully draws in your features as much as he’s able to. He’s certainly no artist, but he’s slow and methodical with bringing to life this poor stand in for your own body – paying attention to every small detail, wanting everything to be as life-like as possible.

Your eyes are drawn on, correct down to the shape, even going so far as to try and ink on every eyelash, the flecks of color in your irises, any eye bags or wrinkles you may have.

He’s drawing your nose, the outline of jaw and neck, and, of course, your lips. He’s drawn them so that they’re permanently parted, leaving you looking like you’re gasping in pleasure, even going so far as to try and shade them so that they appear to be wet.

(Presumably with spit, or perhaps something a bit thicker, a bit hotter – it depends on the fantasy.)

The drawings continue down your body, making sure to outline your neck and shoulders, even down to your hands and fingers. (One hand is drawn with all your fingers curled and your thumb touching your index finger, so that a circular hole is made.)

He’s drawn your breasts, nipples, the swell of your tummy, your hips and thighs, even your calves and the arch of your ankles.

(He’s drawn you so that your thighs are spread slightly, giving him a view into what lies between – he’s not entirely sure of the technicalities of female anatomy, so he’s negating drawing any specifics and instead simply leaving the area blank, not willing to misrepresent your lovely, gorgeous figure – that’d feel disrespectful to you, as if the fact that he’s essentially created a sex doll in your image isn’t. He’s seen enough mothers breastfeeding children to have an idea of the upper half of a woman’s body, but he still shivers in excitement at learning how your upper body looks – though he thinks he has a good idea based upon how your clothing fits you, his eyes greedily observing the way the material is taut around your chest.)

Once everything is drawn, it’s easy to tear holes in the pillow – one between your legs, one in the curled circle of your hand, one between your pretty, parted lips.

Once he’s completed his work he'll eagerly, gingerly bring the pillow to his bed, gulping excitedly and immediately stripping off his clothing. His cock is already rock hard, swollen and pressing against his lower stomach, the tip a bright red and shining in the firelight of the room, precum soaking the skin.

He’d managed to get a guaranteed night off-duty this evening, which means there won’t be a single interruption. He’ll set the pillow down flat, excitement already licking at his every muscle, the room feeling incredibly hot already. He’s quick to settle himself above the pillow, his weight resting on both knees and his forearm that’s pressed against the ground. His free hand comes up to lightly trace at the drawn-on curve of your jaw, his face mere inches from where he imagines yours to be.

My flame, you are so beautiful… He’ll tell you, tongue flicking out to lick at his lips.

His cock twitches as he leans down to softly press his lips against your drawn ones, the kiss soft and slow and meaningful, the Hashira pouring every ounce of affection he feels for you into the action.

He imagines you kissing back; would you be hesitant, embarrassed and shy? Or would you be just as eager, perhaps wrapping your arms around his neck and running your hands through his hair, maybe even pulling on it, biting his lip and letting him know how badly you need him?

He groans, his eyes closed, lips working harder against the pillow, his tongue coming out to dart against the hole cut out, imagining your own tongue tangling with his. His hand wanders down from your jaw to your breast, fingers groping and squeezing at nothing but cotton, but the motion alone has his hips bucking, cock brushing slightly against the pillow. It makes him hiss, pulling back from the kiss and licking his lips, his eyes already half lidded and dazed.

Forgive me, I can’t wait any longer, I must be inside you.

His voice is breathless, and as he shimmeys upwards slightly, he’s spreading his legs a bit, thighs flexing as he leans back, audible inhaling as he nudges his tip against the hole between your drawn on legs, already smearing precum against the material from just a bit of contact.

His fingers are trembling slightly as he pushes in inch by inch, going slowly just like he would if it was really you, wanting to make sure you adjust to him and he feels good, so that you’ll be ready for him to absolutely ravish you.

He’s groaning as he bottoms out, balls pressed tightly against the pillow, his chest heaving as he stares wildly at your drawn on face. You feel – you feel amazing, my flame, oh –

He presses his forehead against yours as he slowly pulls back, the muscles of his ass and lower back going taut, before sinking in slowly again, an uneven sigh of your name slipping past his lips.

You feel so tight around me, does it feel good? Does it feel good to have me inside you?

Just the phrasing of that makes his head spin, the idea that he’s inside of you (even if he’s really not) making his hips snap to life, his previously slow pace picking up quickly.

He’s panting already, all the breathing control he’s mastered flying out the window because this is different – it’s your body underneath him, your pretty pussy sucking him in over and over and over, your moans ringing in his ears as you cry out his name again and again.

Kyojuro Kyojuro Kyojuro, please it feels so good!

He’s imagining the way you’d moan his name, how your voice would get so breathy, your fingers raking down his back, your legs wrapping around his hips.

He groans your name again, hips snapping into yours hard enough to push the pillow up with every thrust, his mind running wild as he imagines how your breasts would bounce at the force, practically begging to be squeezed and sucked at. A hand comes up and begins groping at nothing again, his thumb brushing over where he’s drawn on your nipple, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as the pleasure begins mounting.

It just feels too damn good – it’s so easy to imagine you below him, crying out his name as he fucks you hard enough to leave you utterly destroyed, your perfect little cunt massaging him in just the right ways.

He’s chanting your name under his breath, his eyes wide and staring down at your inked face, his voice getting faster and more strained as his muscles start clenching, his balls tightening and his hips stuttering and his heart racing because oh god oh fuck oh fuck –

He’s pulling out at the last minute, cum spurting all over the pillowcase, his moans of your name filling the room as his hand quickly tugs, wrist twisting and moving so fast it’s nearly a blur. The pleasure is immense, leaving his toes curling and every hair on his body standing up straight, feeling as if fire is running through his veins.

After the last few sad spurts dribble from his oversensitive, swollen tip, he’s left gasping, swallowing hard and letting a broad grin slip across his face. With still heavy breaths, he pushes back any stray hair from his forehead, the bit of sweat gathered there leaving him sighing. He’s quick to lean down, pressing a soft, long kiss against your drawn-on lips, a whispered I love you murmured against the pillow.

He has to swallow hard as he pulls back, euphoria still swimming in his veins at the intensity of his orgasm. Pleasuring himself to the thought of you is nearly too much - it leaves him breathless, feeling a high that doesn’t fade for hours after, and as he lays down beside the pillow, still stained with cum as he pulls it against his chest, imagining spooning you, he can’t help but shiver.

Because if it feels this good to simply imagine, how would the real you feel?

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your thighs

In general, Kyojuro thinks you’re absolutely beautiful.

He finds you to be the single most attractive woman on Earth, and even if he’s never seen your body in anything more form fitting than a kimono or a slayer uniform, he’s absolutely sure that whatever awaits him beneath the cloth will be heaven, the thing of wet dreams.

And the moment he finally, finally has you bare below him, your pretty skin on display and waiting to be kissed, fondled, marked as his, he finds that he’s not disappointed in any way.

You’re gorgeous – and, naturally, the most gorgeous part of you is your thighs. There’s something about the sight of them that gets him swallowing hard, his eyes growing a bit brighter and wider.

His palms get a bit sweatier when he sees the way they splay out when you sit down, the fat jiggling with every step you take, the way they just look so touchable and squeezable. He nearly has a full body reaction the moment your thighs are out on display, his body temperature rising to extreme heights and his attention straining to stay on you rather than your pretty legs.

Even in settings where soft, loving affection is occurring, he's still eyeing them, appreciating the way you look in his clothing, the simple overshirt you’d put on that morning stopping mid thigh and leaving very little of your upper legs to the imagination.

(You’ll notice the way his fingers slowly creep down from your waist, moving inch by inch until they’re finally laying over the curve of your thigh, idly rubbing and pressing into the warm flesh, marveling at just how soft you are.)

And when you’re both intimate with one another, his enjoyment of your thighs will be more than apparent – he’s always touching them, his hand coming down to squeeze and stay there, almost latching onto you as he throws your leg over his shoulder, his hips never stopping the brutal pace he’s established.

Every position he fucks you in involves your thighs somehow – he’s forcing you to wrap them around his hips when he's hovering above you and pressing down on you so tightly you’re only able to breath in him.

When he’s folded you into the deepest mating press possible, he’s holding you in position by pressing directly against the back of your thighs rather than your knees, often leaving fingertip shaped bruises there from the sheer force and strength he has to keep at bay every time he slips inside you.

Even when he’s fucking you from behind, your pretty ass on display as he sinks so deeply into you that it drives him crazy, he’s making sure to line his own thighs up to press against yours, relishing in the way his balls clap against your clit and the soft, plush fat of your upper inner thighs.

He’s paying extra attention to nip and tease you when he’s got his head between your legs, sucking hickeys and pressing kisses against your inner thighs as he slowly trails up from the inside of your knees.

He wants you to cage in his head when you’re nearing your orgasm, to squeeze as tightly as possible while he licks and moans and thrusts his tongue into you, the only thing he can see and taste and feel and hear being you you you.

Even when you’ve got your lips wrapped around his cock, his eyes are fixated on the way your thighs look splayed out while you kneel on them, his hips bucking as he zones out slightly, the pleasurable feeling of your mouth making him moan and struggle to maintain his composure.

He just really, really likes that area of your body, and while there’s certainly no part of you that he doesn’t like, his penchant for touching you there and always having a hand on your thigh will be very, very apparent to you.

So if you want to tease him, to see the way his eyes darken a bit and his smile grows a bit sinister, sit down with your legs slightly spread, stare at him with those pretty, pouty eyes of yours, and tell him that you’ve been feeling sore, will you please give me a massage, Kyo? I miss your touch…

You’ll have trouble walking the next day, and the littering of bruises, hickeys, and bite marks against your thighs will serve as proud trophies for Kyojuro, who will insist you not cover them up.

His mouth

In the context of sex, Kyojuro lives to please. He’s being completely honest when he firmly tells you that your pleasure is his, because he really does feel that way.

When you touch him it makes his head spin and his hips involuntarily buck, but when he touches you?

Well, more often than not he’s coming alongside you when he’s fingering you, that telltale groan of o-oh and the wet warmth you’ll feel against your skin letting you know exactly how watching you fall apart is affecting him. And similarly, he gets very, very into it when he’s got his mouth working at you, his talented tongue drawing tight circles over your clit and his hair tickling the inside of your thighs.

Every sexual encounter with Kyojuro will involve him eating you out in some capacity, both because he wants you to feel good, and also because he genuinely enjoys the taste of you and the feel of you against his tongue.

And he’s good at it too – he starts off slow, teasing you with playful nipping and smiles against your skin, his eyes looking up at you the whole time, forcing you to keep eye contact because he wants you to see how he pleasures you, for you to see how right he looks between your legs.

He’ll ghost around where you really need him for a while, making sure to pepper kisses at the juncture between your pelvis and thigh, the area right above your clit, even your lower tummy and hips.

He’ll kitten lick at your folds, humming against your skin and letting the vibrations send shivers up your spine, his tongue dipping just a bit deeper each time, until he’s using his thumbs to physically spread your lips, lewd slurping noises filling your ears as he licks and sucks, pleasure making you sigh his name.

After he’s sufficiently teases you, he’ll press a few more kisses to your thigh, then move upwards, still staring you in the eyes, before licking his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your clit.

He’ll tell you that he loves your body, my flame, especially this special spot that always makes you moan my name, before flicking his tongue along it, enjoying the way you jerk at the acute stimulation.

He’s perfected the art of keeping a steady, consistent pattern against you, making sure that the rhythm can let the pleasure build, a dull warmth spreading through your entire lower body.

Meanwhile, he’ll always slip a finger inside of you, curling and pressing against areas he knows you like, feeling the way your thighs twitch and your moans get louder.

He likes when you run your hands through his hair as he uses his mouth on you, especially if you lightly tug or pull; the pleasure tinged with slight pain makes him blindly hump at whatever is closest to him.

And he’ll always, always keep going until you’ve reached your high, even if that means spending hours between your legs; anything to feel the way your cunt flutters against his lips, how you gasp and practically wail his name, your thighs seizing up and your slick coating his chin and lips.

His eyes close as he eagerly laps it up, addicted to your taste – and as he pulls back, his lower face glistening with your arousal and spit, he’ll kiss you, pulling you into a passionate, tongue-heavy kiss.

Even outside of going down on you, Kyojuro finds ways to utilize his mouth in regards to you in every situation he can – he’s always pressing kisses against your lips, cheek, forehead, neck, and knuckles, liking the way that it flusters you and leaves you biting your lip.

He’s taking your hand in his and pressing kisses against your fingertips, singing your praises between presses of his lips, until he’s eventually slipping a finger into his mouth, holding your gaze as he sucks and runs his tongue up and down your skin, the intensity of the moment making you simultaneously aroused and uncomfortable.

He’ll even go so far as to share your toothbrush, just because he likes the idea of a little bit of him being in a little bit of you.

(You’re very aware of this, even without the whole toothbrush misfortune – his penchant for always, always finishing inside of you makes this abundantly clear.)

DRIVE:

Despite Kyojuro’s delusions about your relationship and how you feel for him, even he can’t misread the way you react so negatively to his mentions of being sexual with you. You always freeze up, eyes going wide, your head shaking no and your voice hurried as you tell him please, please no Kyojuro, I’m not – I’m not ready for that, please don’t!

He’ll respect that, firmly nodding and tell you to not worry, my love, I can wait for as long as it takes!

He doesn’t really understand it, however, because in his mind there really shouldn’t be a reason why you aren’t ready – you’re his, and you know it.

You’re living together (even if that wasn’t your choice) and you share a bed together when he’s home. You bath together (something that Kyojuro enjoys very, very much, his hands always wandering, his breath hot in your ear as he tells you that you’re beautiful, something hard pressing against you when he’s washing your hair), share a toothbrush, eat together and wear his clothing – you’re a couple, a partnership between a man and a woman, and wanting to express your love physically is a natural urge.

It’s normal and healthy, and something he wants so, so very badly to do with you. But he understands that perhaps you’re not comfortable with that level of intimacy quite yet – he’s aware of how society views women who’ve lost their virginity (he’d never explicitly asked you if you’ve touched another person, but he assumes you’ve saved yourself for him as he’s saved himself for you), and although you’d be giving it to the man you’ll spend the rest of your life with, he can respect that you might simply be afraid to lose something you’ve learned is cherished.

He’s disappointed by your rejection of sex, but he means it when he says he’ll wait for you to be ready and won’t force it upon you. That does not, however, mean that Kyojuro will completely abstain from interacting with you sexually. He just can’t help himself – sure, he may not be actively fucking you, but he finds other ways to placate the carnal desires practically begging him to rip off your clothing and press you against him while he makes you moan and writhe and fills you with him him him.

It starts small – he’s kissing you every chance he gets, letting them get longer and deeper, lasting sometimes minutes at a time while small moans and groans slip from his mouth into yours. His hand initially starts at your shoulder when he does this, but as time passes he gets bolder – it moves to your waist, your cheek, your hip, even over your ribcage right below your clothed breast, the edges of his fingers brushing against the underside of the pudge fat as moving up slowly, up until he pulls away from the kiss for air.

When kissing you becomes not enough, he moves to hugging you for longer periods of time, getting tighter and purposefully pressing parts of his body against you. He’s always been touchy, and you’ve been getting hugs for nearly as long as you’ve known him (even before his infatuation formed, back when his feelings for you were strictly platonic – now, though, they’re anything but).

But these hugs are different – he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and forcing you flush with his body, smiling at you with those wide, unsettling eyes while his breathing picks up ever so slightly, his pelvis pressed tightly against your own so that you can feel something – something warm, big, almost feeling like it’s moving against you, like it’s throbbing.

He’ll ask you to give him a pair of your panties when he leaves for missions, smiling so brightly and boyishly when you hesitantly deliver the piece of cloth to his outstretched palm, licking his lips and bringing the garment up to inhale deeply before stuffing it away into one of the many pockets of his Demon Corps uniform, telling you with a laugh to choose a pair that’s been used next time please, my flame.

(You never ask why he wants the underwear while he’s gone, simply because you think you know the answer already, but somehow hearing it from him would be worse, like confirming a truth you desperately wished to be false. Plus, you’re sure he’d tell you in extreme detail exactly how he uses them, too, perhaps even giving you a visual demonstration because he’s just so eager to interact with you, to feel your pretty eyes on him.)

It’s disturbing, but it’s a small comfort to know that he may be pushy and make you uncomfortable but he’ll never truly force you into sex. Kyojuro may be many things, but he’s at least a man of his word – even if he very, very badly wishes he wasn’t sometimes.

And so as wonderful as kissing you deeper and hugging you tighter and fucking his fist to your panties is, Kyojuro eventually decides that he needs more. He needs to get as close to actually fucking you as he can without being inside of you, just as he promised.

And so the perfect solution is really just that simple – running through the motions without violating your wishes. Kyojuro is ecstatic just thinking about – which is why, when the mood strikes him, his cock straining against his trousers and his fingers itching to reach out and touch, he’ll strip off his clothing, smiling at you and running his knuckles against your cheek while telling you to take your clothing off please, love, I want to make you feel good.

And really, as much as you don’t want to, it’s easier on both of you if you just do – your options are let him hump you like a dog, or be forced to touch him, your own hand wrapped around his cock as he moans and sighs and thrusts into your hand while telling you how good you look. And so, once your clothing is off, Kyojuro will look at you with those eyes, licking his lips slowly and walking up to you, pressing himself against you again and letting his hands sit firmly at your waist.

My flame, he’ll murmur to you, his voice low and his breath a bit hitched because his cock is pressed up against your thigh and god, even that touch alone is enough to make his knees feel weak. Lay down for me.

He’ll have you lay on your back, your legs spread for him and your arms over your head. He’ll stand for a while, simply staring at you, the sight of you in such a provocative position making his cheeks tinge pink and his throat feel a bit dry. But soon there’s too much precum dribbling from his tip to ignore, and he’ll climb over you, hovering over you and wrapping your leg around his waist, so that his face is mere inches from yours and his cock is pressed against your navel.

He’ll swallow, leaning down a bit to press his lips against yours, relishing in the warmth of your body pressed against his own. Kisses are pressed against the corner of your mouth, then down the length of your jaw, down your neck and finally to your shoulder, the movements slow and meaningful despite the near painful aching between his legs. His hips seem to move on their own, slowly rocking forward and backwards, the friction of his cock rubbing against your skin and against the tufts of hair making him hiss slightly.

His lips find purchase at your ear, deep sighs and heavy pants impossible to ignore as he slowly picks up his pace. The stimulation feels good, but it’s not enough for him - he has to move faster, harder, be better, because this is really a chance for him to show you exactly what you’re missing out on. This is his opportunity to show you that if he were to do this inside of you, it would feel so much better for you – it’s his opportunity to convince you that sex with him would feel good, that you’d be satisfied, that he could please you.

And he commits to that desire – one forearm is pressed against the bed right beside your head supporting his weight while the other wanders from your waist up to grope and squeeze at your breast, deft fingers pinching and rolling your nipple between them. He’ll groan your name, leaning down to lick at your lips and tell you that you’re so very beautiful, his voice strained. He’ll bring the hand down to ghost over your stomach, right above where his cock is grinding and thrusting, moving to bury his nose against your neck while he chants your name. His voice is a bit slurred, the pleasure making his brows draw tightly together, his hips snapping and flexing harder and harder.

He’s close, and he tells you as much – muffled against your neck, his low groan of f-feels too good, you feel so good love…

With his orgasm approaching, he resorts to kissing your neck again, his hair tickling you and the feeling of his cock dragging against your skin over and over making your toes curl involuntarily, because even as humiliating and uncomfortable as this is, isn’t there something oddly sexy about this big, strong man making himself a fool on you, losing him mind from just the feel of you?

He’s desperate for the pleasure he’s right on the brink of as he blindly reaches out to find your hand, his fingers interlocking with yours tightly, the moan that rises in the back of his throat high and uneven and raw. His whole body shakes as something warm and thick spurts against your stomach, a few drops landing on the undersides of your breasts, his breath heavy in your ear as he slowly, oh so slowly thrusts, riding out the last waves of his pleasure.

His hand is still gripping yours, and after a moment he pulls back and kisses you again, his tongue immediately pushing into your mouth and insistent, the red on his cheeks even more pronounced now.

It’s still not ideal, grinding and humping against you like this, but Kyojuro is content to do it as many times as it takes until you finally, finally feel ready to let him love you like you deserve, to let him make you gasp and cry out his name and gush around him until you’re too incoherent to even think.

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Praise

Kyojuro is very vocal in bed. He’s constantly talking to you – telling you how good you feel, telling you when something in particular feels best, warning you when his orgasm is dangerously near, just producing a constant stream of commentary as he fucks you. His voice is breathy the whole time, always turned up at the ends of his sentences because the pleasure is too strong, forcing him to slur his words together because fuck you feel good.

A lot of his vocalness stems from the fact that he’s just so excited to be intimate with you – he’s been fantasizing about this for a long time, long nights spent with his eyes closed and his cheeks a bit pink,

imagining the way you’d look underneath the pretty kimonos and clothing you wear.

He’s imagined what your face would look like when he’s cupping your breasts, thumbing at your nipples and making your brows twitch, biting your lip as you tell him to squeeze just a hair harder, pressing yourself against him because having his hands on you feel too good.

He’s imagined how your thighs would tremble when he’s got two fingers buried in your cunt, curling and scissoring and rubbing against your sensitive walls while you curl your toes and whine his name.

He’s even imagined the way your pussy would feel as he’s fucking you, how it would clench down on him hard, practically begging him to stay inside, begging for every last drop of cum he can possibly give.

He’s fantasized and daydreamed and imagined for months on end, each scenario only making him more anxious to finally have his hands on you, the buildup to actual intimacy with you leaving him wildly excited. And so, now that you’re finally with him, your perfect body warm and soft to the touch just as he knew you’d be, Kyojuro can’t help himself from telling you every little thing he’s thinking and feeling. He’s rambling on about how pretty you look when you’re underneath him, your body spread out for him and completely bare.

He’ll smile at you and kiss at every available inch of skin as his hands squeeze and knead at your sides, leaning back to admire the view of a flustered, bashful you underneath him all with a dreamy sigh and a small you’re so perfect, my flame, exactly as I imagined you’d be. And really, it would be sweet if it weren’t for the way he continues on to tell you exactly what he’d imagined, explicit details about how he'd fucked to his fist to the thought of you writhing below him, what pace he’d used, how he’d tightened up his grip to simulate how tight you’d grip him, even going so far as to tell you that this particular fantasy had him producing much more cum than normal when he eventually came.

It’s too much information and will leave you feeling disturbed and a bit scared, but Kyojuro doesn’t seem to notice – he’s too deeply enthralled with the pleasure you’re giving him, the words seeing to slip off his tongue without him even realizing it as he thrusts into you with an almost inhuman speed.

But of course, even as lovely as it is to detail all of the fantasies he’s had of you, what you’ll most often get with him is praise. He generally thinks that you’re enchanting, viewing you as something perfect and lovely and so, so very wonderful, but when he’s intimate with you this perception of you only intensifies.

Every small burst of pleasure you give him only solidifies his infatuation with you, and he can’t stop himself from telling you how beautiful you look on your knees for him, your pretty lips wrapped around his cock and your eyes prickling with tears because he’s too big for you to take down your throat. He’ll just smile, hand cupping the back of your hand and slowly easing you down his length, biting his lip at the sight and sighing out that you’re doing so well, you feel so – so good, yes love oh, suck just like that, it feels amazing when you do that.

He’ll have you perched on his lap, tits bouncing in his face while his hands clutch at your hips and move you up and down his cock, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and a moan of your name falling past his lips, small chants of yes yes yes and gasps of your name filling the air between you.

He’ll lick and suck at your clit with his head buried between your thighs, a lithe finger working in and out of you as he moans appreciatively against you, your taste on his tongue forcing him to pull back a moment to lick a long, flat stripe against your folds, his chin and lips visibly glistening as you tells you that you taste so delicious, I can’t get enough of you, give me more please my flame, I need more of you.

And when you’re gushing around his fingers a few minutes later, desperately grabbing at the pillow under your head and his hair, Kyojuro can only brokenly groan, his own orgasm not far behind yours as he thrusts his hips against the floor. You’re just so pretty and perfect and wonderful, and how can he not tell you?

And after he’s emptied himself inside of you, he’ll curl you into his arms and hold you, breathing into your ear and telling you how good you did, how you did so well and made him feel so good. Kisses are pressed against the crown of your head while he does this, his compliments sounding so genuine and reverent that you’ll be equal parts flattered and uncomfortable because god, he really means it when he says you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, doesn’t he?

Kyojuro of course loves to be praised in turn – any positive comment from you is met with eager and wide eyes, his ministrations and motions only increasing, his desperation to please you and make you feel good nearly palpable. Your moans of his name and cries of yes and right there and please making something smug and warm swell in his chest, his obsession only deepening because you just look so right when you’re falling apart on his cock.

He lives to please you, so please praise him – he’ll return the favor with so much passion and vigor that you’ll almost be embarrassed for him at how high and whiny and lewd the groan he lets out when he spills inside you is.

Almost, because he’ll follow it up with heavy breaths and a stuttered that – that was for you, because of you, because you feel so fucking good.

Oral Fixation

There’s something about the taste of you that he simply can’t get enough of. Even before he stole you away, Kyojuro was quick to snatch any small item of yours that could potentially taste like you.

He managed to snag the small vial of lip balm he’s seen you use – the one that his eyes always get stuck on, watching the way you pucker and pop your lips, the smacking noises obscene and provocative and sexy. You’d left it on the table after a lunch he’d invited you to, and Kyojuro – ever the gentleman – had pocketed it with the intention to return it to you later. Only, he didn’t – it stayed in his pocket until later that night when he’d fished it out, carefully opened it, and pressed the nearly empty balm against his own lips, closing his eyes and sighing because oh, if he licks his lips now he’ll taste you…

He’s got a cloth he keeps in his pocket that’s reserved specifically for you – when you’re eating with him, going on outgoings that are strictly platonic to you but are anything but to him, he’ll use the cloth and wipe off bits of food sitting on your lips, some stray sauce on the corner of your mouth. The cloth is kept in his pocket until later, when his cock is bright red and swollen and drooling precum for you, his lip caught between his teeth as he uses the cloth to tug and twist at his sensitive head, the friction of the cotton against his skin making him shiver and writhe and curl his toes all the while your name falls from his lips.

And once he’s done, he’s quick to bring the cloth up to his mouth, tongue lolling against the material as he tastes his cum and you mixed together, a flavor that gets the last sad little spurt of cum oozing from his swollen tip, the sensation making him groan lowly.

Really, he just likes the taste of you – and once your physical relationship begins, this penchant he has for tasting you only increases.

Now, he doesn’t have to be sneaky – no longer does he have to rely on placing your used utensils in his mouth in order to get even the slightest bit of you on his tongue.

Now he can just wrap an arm around your waist and press you close, mouth dipping down to slot his lips against yours, a moan muffled against your mouth because god, you’re so sweet and warm and he wants to drink in everything you can give him.

(Yes you’ve watched him kiss you and pull back, swallowing and licking his lips, telling you that your spit tastes delicious, my flame, please give me more before diving back in, kissing you and sucking on your tongue so hard you can practically feel his desperation.)

Now he can press kisses against your neck and jawline, tongue lathing up and down your collarbones while he licks and sucks, the dark bruising making his eyes light up and his breathing a bit uneven.

(Normally Kyojuro is strictly against harming you, but there’s something about hickeys that makes him sway ever so slightly on this rule. Perhaps it’s because he’s the cause of the dull pain, or maybe it’s because every time he’s working at your neck and shoulders you always let out these little whines that go straight to his cock, your fingers gripping tighter at his hair. Sometimes, when he’s particularly pent up and desperate for you, he swears he can even feel your cunt throbbing through the layers of clothing separating you, as if you’re just as needy and frantic for him as he is you. Ah, what a lovely thought.)

Now he can just gently press you against the wall, getting to his knees and throwing your leg over his shoulder while he pushing the pretty robe he’d bought you up to your hips, exposing the skimpy panties he'd bought for you as a present.

(They’re red, of course, with pretty lace details around the edges and a little bow at the very top, almost as if you’re a present for him to open and play with. He’d bought them for you before he’d stolen you away, gifted them to you with a bright smile and not an ounce of shame, and had insisted you wear them despite your discomfort after noticing an odd stain on them – one that left a dark spot that Kyojuro refused to explain, only laughing and pressing a kiss to your cheek when asked.)

He’ll lick over your clothed cunt, humming against you and chuckling when you squirm at the vibrations. He’s suckling at your clit over the cloth, those eyes of his staring up at you from between your legs, the taste of you strong and making his mind spin even before he’s actually touching you.

But soon, Kyojuro can’t settle for just your phantom taste – he needs more, needs you, and so he’s suddenly standing up, picking you up with no effort and settling you down onto the bed, immediately laying between your legs. He’s spreading your thighs and licking his lips, rolling your panties down and off your legs before absolutely devouring you – he’s licking and sucking loudly enough to make lewd, wet suction noises fill the room.

There’s wet schluck-schluck noises ringing in your ears as he pushes a finger inside, all the way down to his second knuckle and curling them, the pads of his fingers brushing against the spot that gets you moaning and your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. All the while he’s playing with your clit, tongue tracing shapes and spelling his name, humming and moaning and sucking at you like a man starved. His stamina is high, and he’s keeping up the pace until you’re clutching at his hair and moaning his name like a prayer, the pleasure making you writhe and gasp and gush all over his fingers and chin.

But once Kyojuro gets a taste of you, he’s not simply satisfied with just one orgasm – he needs more, to feel you clenching down on his fingers and your clit throbbing as he fucks you through the high.

He’ll simply laugh at your whines of too sensitive, I can’t Kyo please, keeping his steady pace and pressing a kiss against your clit that makes your hips jerk.

You can do it, he’ll tell you, slick and your cum smeared all across his lips, chin and cheeks. You can give me another one, let me make you feel good, my flame.

And even while he’s fucking you his fixation doesn’t decrease – you feel like heaven around his cock, sure, with your warm, soft walls clenching down on him and your slick coating his thighs, but that doesn’t stop his fingers from snaking up and pressing against your lips.

He'll push them inside two at a time, hot breaths against your ear telling you to suck, ngh suck for me, his hips snapping into you with more fervor as he feels your lips close around him, throat tightening and your little gagging noises as he thrusts his fingers in and out.

You’re just so beautiful, and although his fixation mostly manifests as him using his mouth on you, he certainly won’t deny you if you were to flip the script. You get on your knees for him, licking your lips and pawing at his cock over his pants?

The pants are off faster than you can blink, his hand already at the back of your head and guiding you down his length, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he lets out a low groan of yes, o-oh, you’re so warm, I’ve been thinking of this all day-!

He won’t deny you when you press kisses against his exposed chest, your tongue tracing around his sensitive nipple and feeling the skin pebble, even grazing your teeth against the sensitive skin just to hear his breath hitch and the audible gulp that follows.

He just thinks the ultimate form of intimacy is to taste each other, and Kyojuro is always eager to get closer to you, and to prove just how much he loves you – and, of course, just how depraved you make him.

Breeding

Kyojuro will get you pregnant. It’s not even a matter of discussion as far as he’s concerned – yes, it’s a sexual fantasy for him to stuff you so full of his cum that you’re literally leaking it, but it’s more than that. He genuinely wants to build a family with you, to have you as his sweet little housewife that he dotes on and provides for and cares for, and to complete the fantasy he needs a few children running around.

He gets this dopey grin and blushing cheeks when he imagines you with a toddler clutching at your leg and a baby nursing at your breast, something inside his chest swelling with pride and happiness. And so, every time he fucks you he will be finishing inside, stuffing you as full as he physically can.

The image of you pregnant gets his breathing shallow; something about seeing you round, your breasts swollen and nipples so sensitive you sharply gasp when he so much as brushes against them making him shift his pants, his skin feeling hot and clammy. He likes the idea of knocking you up so that you’re completely, utterly dependent on him for every little thing – you’ll be so sweet and lovely and incapable, allowing him to attend to your every need. You’ll need him to walk any significant distance, to reach things on high shelves, to help you get up and out of chairs, to help with anything, really, and Kyojuro is more than happy to aid you in your time of need.

But even outside of actually getting you pregnant, the kink also satisfies some of his more shameful needs, some of his more masculine and carnal needs. After all, breeding you means coming inside you, filling you to the brim with his cum, something only he can provide you.

There’s just something about the idea of leaving you full with something so utterly him that gets him hot under the collar, his fingers twitching eagerly because just the thought makes him desperate to get his hands on you. He's not too terribly possessive, all things considered, but something about the idea of his cum settling inside you just feels right in a way he can’t describe, almost as if you were made to take it. As if you were made to take him, really, if the way your perfect little pussy sucks him in so well is any indication.

Besides, every time he finishes inside he’ll pull back and just stare, watching with bright eyes at the way his cum slowly dribbles out of you, white staining against the curve of your ass, his fingers coming up to scoop up the leaking bits and stuff them back inside you.

(And he will finish inside every time he fucks you, and even when your fist is wrapped around his girth or your lips are pressed against his base, tip making you gag at how deep he is in your throat. He’ll warn you with a near-yell of ‘m close before pushing you down and spreading your legs so quickly that it knocks the breath out of you, nestling his tip just inside you and coming, the sheer volume and force of the spurts making you squirm because you can feel it.)

There’s lots of talk about how you mustn’t waste anything he gives you, how you must keep every last drop inside you, his voice strained and breathy as he groans that into your ear, a thrust punctuating each word and making you clutch onto him for dear life because he’s fucking you meanly, every clap of his hips against yours making you physically scoot up until you reach the edge of the bed.

There’s something about the idea of stuffing you full of his cum that makes Kyojuro near feral, his hips seeming to have a mind of their own as they snap and pound against you, his cock pushing deeper and deeper and deeper, tip nestling further inside you with every thrust.

While he’s fucking you, the only thing running through his mind (aside from the constant stream of compliments towards you and the indescribable feeling of how fucking warm you are) is a mantra of needing to get deeper, to go as far inside you as he can, to press right up against your womb so that when his abs flex and his pace stutters, a shallow gasp and low groan rolling past his lips, his cum can shoot directly where it needs to go. It can spurt and splatter and flood your cute little pussy, each twitch of his cock giving you more and more and more, until it’s literally leaking out of you, even while he’s still stuffed inside you.

And Kyojuro, ever the talkative lover, is more than happy to narrate the process – his orgasms always follow a rather wanton groan of your name, his voice strained and uneven as he tells you to take it, o-oh take it take it take it, take every fucking drop ngh yes yes yes!

He’ll press down on your stomach as he finishes, the sensation making you impossibly tighter, the motion forcing his cum to shoot even deeper into you, his eyes wide in wonder and lust as if he can see the way his cock is twitching and throbbing, pushing out everything it can give you.

His voice nearly awed as he asks if you feel that, my love? I’m breeding this lovely pussy, does it feel good? It’s feels likes heaven for me, and soon you’ll be rounded and glowing and carrying my child.

He’ll pause to press a kiss against your nipple, tongue flicking out to tease the sensitive skin, before cupping it with his hand and squeezing, his own voice turning a bit darker as he tells you that soon your breasts will be so swollen and heavy, you’ll be feeding our child, nursing our baby…

He sucks at your nipple, hard. I’m sure you’ll taste divine – you’ll give me a taste too, I’m sure.

He’ll run his hand along your stomach, sucking in a sharp breath and telling you that you’ll be full soon, that you’ll be swollen and big and his, your body proving to him exactly who you belong to, exactly who kisses you and fucks you and gives you what your body is made for.

He just really, really wants a family with you, so don’t be surprised when he forces you to lay by his side for hours after sex, his cock keeping you stuffed full, not allowing a single drop of cum to leak out, his hand pressed firmly against your stomach as he rambles on and on about baby names and how he’ll be there for the entire birth, how he hopes the baby has his hair and your personality, how he’ll protect the both of you from demons until his dying breath.

It would be sweet, really, if he wasn’t so insistent, if he didn’t have twenty names already picked out for you to choose from, if he wasn’t telling you that according to Shinobu the part of your cycle you’re currently in is your highest window of fertility, if he wasn’t clutching onto you and saying when you’re pregnant instead of if.

And when his cock slowly hardens once more inside of you, you’ll feel the palpable change in the air as he kisses your neck again, his hips slowly starting to move as he tells you that he has to make sure it took, I have to make sure you’re carrying my child… Open your legs for me, my flame, let me give you more of me.

And when he comes with a gasp of your name a few minutes later, even more cum flooding you and sending some dripping down over his cock and onto his pelvis, Kyojuro can only lick his lips, the sight of you with a rounded belly and swollen breasts making him near feral.

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Marking

While Kyojuro isn’t the most possessive, there’s something about the idea of physically marking you as his that gets his blood rushing, heat blooming on his cheeks, a wide grin splitting across his face.

Just the thought get him eagerly pulling you closer, nudging his nose against your neck, sighing heavily and letting you feel the way his pants slowly grow tighter, his breathing growing heavier as he groans your name.

There’s just something about the idea of claiming you as his own that makes some primal, animalistic part of him light up, so be prepared to be absolutely covered in marks as your sexual relationship progresses.

Hickeys will cover nearly all of your skin, leaving no area untouched by his lips and teeth. He’ll leave love marks (as he calls them) in the shape of a heart situated on the plane of your chest, nestled right up your breasts. As he’s fucking you he’ll kiss over the area again, his hips never slowing their pace as he starts whispering your name under his breath, nearly chanting it with every clap his balls against the curve of your ass.

A ‘K’ and an ‘R’ are placed on your inner thighs, so that when he sits beside you he can reach over and grip the area, sending you a blinding grin and telling you that even under all the layers of clothing he can feel your love. Once the marks fade he’ll spend hours between your legs again, remaking the hickies so there’s a letter per leg, so that every time he spreads them, excitement bubbling in his chest, he’ll see his letters, a mark of ownership, a reminder that you’re his and his alone, that your pretty skin and plush thighs and that lovely little pussy of yours is completely and utterly his.

It’s just fucking hot to Kyojuro, so when he pins you down, your body nude and bared for his eyes, know that he’ll kiss you, lips working eagerly against your own, tongue coaxing yours in an effort to get you to engage, groans and grunts tumbling into your mouth as his hands wander down to grope at your breasts, squeezing your side, toying with the pubic hair settled on your navel.

He’ll kiss you, then let his lips travel down, dipping to your neck to suck harshly against the skin, then down to your collarbone to lick and suckle, then to your nipples to bruise the area beside your areolas, then down your stomach and to your thighs, mumbling praises and sweet words of affirmation as he goes.

You’ll wince and avoid looking at yourself in mirrors after he’s through with you, but just know that Kyojuro does it all out of love.

He doesn’t enjoy hurting you, but the pleasure and pride that swells in his chest when he sees you with his markings outweighs his small worries at your bruising.

Just let it happen, really, because he’ll be getting his way, one way or the other, and while eventually the dull throb and sting as he works section after section will grow slightly painful, at least his fingers are talented – after all, you can handle the hickies when he’s making you gasp his name, cream on his fingers and beg for more, more, more, right?

Choking

While Kyojuro is generally the more dominant partner in bed (regardless of your personal tastes – he likes to feel like your provider, so even if you want to peg him until he’s a sobbing, begging mess, little mewls of your name and p-please, need to come so bad slipping past his lips, you’ll likely be the one trapped below him), there’s a certain allure to letting you take charge for a night every few weeks, letting you take the reigns for a few minutes.

There’s something oddly sexy about watching the way the power slowly goes to your head, how your eyes grow darker, your actions more passionate as you bounce up and down on top of him, your hands planted against his chest, pinching at his nipples, shoving your tongue down his throat all while he groans and enjoys the view.

He just likes to see the way you use him, his body simply a toy for you to get off on. It’s the ultimate form of caring for you – and seeing the way you’re so unabashedly pleasuring yourself gets his blood pumping so hard he can hear it in his ears, the sight of you so raw and natural and not at all the shy little thing you were when he first spread your legs all those months ago making him lick his lips in anticipation.

And yet, there’s a certain habit you’ve developed in these moments that Kyojuro absolutely cannot get enough of – that is, when your soft fingers wrap around his throat, your skin against his, pressing just hard enough to disrupt the blood flow to his brain, the feeling dizzying and disorienting and wonderful.

His eyes literally roll to the back of his head when you do this, your hips snapping and scooping above him as you tell him to hold it in, be a good boy, don’t come yet.

He’s groaning and wildly bucking his hips, face turning slightly red as you lean down to kiss him, your lips harsh and demanding, the kiss rough and forceful.

It’s heaven, Kyojuro thinks, as you clench around him, your fingers following suit, his cock twitching inside of you, his hands coming up to grope and knead at your ass as he bounces you harder and harder, the desire to come inside you suddenly washing over him.

It’s something he finds himself craving as time goes on, and so while he’ll more often prefer to be the one on top, in charge, calling the shots, be prepared for the nights where he wants to let you do all the work.

But really, once you’re straddling him, sinking down onto his drooling, leaking tip and grinding, your hand wrapped around his throat, he’ll often do most of the ‘work’ – desperate, sad little humps up into you with his heels planted against the futon mat that’ll leave you gasping and going limp, his cock reaching parts of you unexplored by your own fingers.

And when you lean down over him, your pretty face just inches away from his own flushed you’re your fingers wrapped around his neck, Kyojuro will eagerly obey when you tell him to open wide, his cock throbbing inside you as your spit lands against his tongue, your taste and the lewd sight of you spitting in his mouth making his orgasm hurtle towards him. As soon as he eagerly swallows his eyes are going wide, his words rushed and slurred and strained as he tells you that it’s so fucking good, oh here it comes, shit it’s coming, it – it’s-!

He just really, really likes the way it feels to have your pretty fingers around such a vulnerable area, so get used to it – because Kyojuro is a passionate man, and as his lover, you must be just as passionate, too.

BIGGEST FANTASY:

As a general rule, Kyojuro is vocal about every sexual desire he has with you. He doesn’t believe in keeping secrets, especially in the context of sex where you could both be benefitting.

He wants to share every explicit, lewd fantasy he has of you simply because he thinks you might enjoy it – you might have even been dreaming of doing the same thing, you were just too shy to tell him.

(He knows how you are – how you’re so very shy, always seeming to skirt away from him when he nears you, your wide-eyed looks you send him when he’s talking to you, how your hands are clammy and you’re shaking ever so slightly when he pulls you in for a kiss with far too much tongue.)

And so, Kyojuro is open and honest; painfully so, really. He wakes up one morning with you in his arms, your eyes already open as he leans in and kisses the shell of your ear, sighing and pressing his navel against your ass, telling you in that husky morning voice of his that he’d dreamed about tasting you until you cry, my flame, doesn’t that sound nice?

(And of course, you’ll not be leaving that bed for hours after the fantasy is spoken out into the air – Kyojuro is nothing if not determined, and his tongue seems to never tire.) After returning home from a mission, he’s announcing to you that he’d passed by a risqué local shop and saw a drawing of a man and a woman where the woman was on top and oh, why didn’t you tell him that women sometimes enjoyed being the more dominant partner?

You’ll be left to flounder, unsure of how to respond, but it’s too late because Kyojuro is already laying down on his back, his pants pulled down to his knees and his expression eager, the smile across his lips blinding as he tells you to come here, my love, the woman in the drawing looked to be enjoying herself, and I want to see that on you as well!

However, because he has no sexual experience before you, he doesn’t harbor any particularly intense fantasies for you. He’s excited and aroused by the simple, straight-forward sex that he knows produces a child – missionary, mostly, or positions that involve spreading your legs and maintaining eye contact while he slides in, a hand cupping your cheek while he groans and tells you in a strained voice that you’re so beautiful, you feel so – ngh, so good!

And so, after a one-off chat with Tengen about wifely matters (he’s announced to the other Hashira that he has a wife, though none of them have met you or know that you aren’t actually his partner, just the woman he considers to be his wife), Kyojuro asks with complete sincerity if his friend has any advice in the bedroom.

Tengen had just laughed and clapped Kyojuro’s back, telling him that sex should be flashy, so don’t do the same things over and over! Mix things up – women love variety, so try some new positions, or a different method of pleasuring her!

When asked what other positions to try, Tengen had grinned, his eyes widening a bit as he said bend her over, she’ll feel you deeper and the view will drive you crazy.

And so, that night after coming home to you, he’d gulped, his eyes narrowing in on your ass, his voice a bit gruff as he told you to come with me, my love, I want to try something new.

“Are you comfortable?” Kyojuro asks, though he sounds distracted.

Swallowing, you nod, embarrassment clear on your face. This position was beyond humiliating – Kyojuro hadn’t explained much when he approached you earlier in the evening, simply looking at you with those unblinking eyes and telling you to get undressed because he had something new he wanted to try out.

And now, here you are, on your hands and knees on your shared bed, clothing neatly folded in a corner of the room. It’s cold, and the air is making goosebumps prickle along your skin and your nipples stiff.

If Kyojuro notices you shiver, he doesn’t say anything – instead, you hear him gulp, the sound suddenly much closer.

“You’re very beautiful…” He whispers, so quiet and unlike him that it makes you glance back over your shoulder. The sight you’re met with makes your embarrassment deepen, a mixture of shame and bashfulness seeping into your every bone.

He’s standing behind you, those wide eyes of his fixated on your exposed cunt, with his cock in hand. Thick fingers wrap around his base, visibly squeezing, his balls periodically twitching even without being touched. He looks entranced – awed, almost, presumably by the sight of your ass presented on display like this.

“Kyojuro…” You start, anxious to just get started so he’ll stop staring at you like you’re something holy and sacred. Wiggling your hips, you hope he’ll get the message.

Instead, you hear a muffled groan and suddenly feel air brushing against your sensitive folds, the sensation making your arms feel a bit weak. You feel a sudden slimy warmth, and wet noises ring in your ears as Kyojuro presses his tongue against you, dipping in briefly to taste and rub at anything he can reach. Heavy breaths are muffled against your cunt, but the insistent press of his chin against your clit makes it difficult to focus.

“Kyo – oh, Kyo please need you to fuck me, don’t tease me.” Your whines make him pause for a moment, before he slowly pulls back, pressing a single long kiss against your folds that has you biting your lip.

“Very well, you’ll have to tell me how it feels, love. Tell me everything you’re feeling.” He asks, gripping his base again and rubbing the tip through your folds, collecting your slick at the tip. His breathing is still loud, the way he’s sucking in air through clenched teeth making it obvious just how strongly the sight of you bent over and exposed like this is affecting him.

You look gorgeous – he’s intimately familiar with what’s between your legs, of course, but this view feels so lewd. He can see your pretty hole clenching every few moments, tufts of hair decorating the pretty sight, and he can even see your other hole, the one you always tell him not to touch with a squeak and a slap of his hand.

Soon he’s swallowing hard and pressing himself inside, the breath sucked out of his lungs because somehow you feel tighter like this, your cunt seeming to suck him in so tightly that it almost hurts, the sensation making his knees buckle slightly.

And you’re certainly not helping, either – as you’d promised him you’re gasping, telling him in an airy voice, “It’s so big – you’re so big, Kyo, fuck you’ve never felt so big, I can’t – you have to wait a second, please, ‘s too much-!”

And he does, with bared teeth and hands that find purchase at your ass, just as Tengen had told him to do. He’s groping at the soft flesh, grabbing handfuls and pulling them apart to get a full view. A whine slips out of him at the lewd sight of his cock buried to the hilt inside of you, the angle letting him see just how you stretch to accommodate him, even seeing the edges of his balls pressed against your thighs. It’s just too much, and as soon as your shaky ‘okay’ registers, Kyojuro’s immediately thrusting.

And the sight of him moving is even more erotic – pulling out of you and seeing the ring of white coating his base makes him lean more of his weight against you, trying to get more leverage as he thrusts back in so that he can fuck you harder, wanting to get impossibly deeper to feel more and more of you. He’s entranced, watching with wide eyes the way he appears and disappears inside of you again and again, almost lost in a trance.

Your noises have him grunting, the desperate whines and rhythmic gasps every time he sinks back into you making his orgasm come creeping up much too quickly. He’s just too overwhelmed, your pretty moans and cries of his name making his head spin.

Soon he’s bringing a leg up and pressing his foot flat against the ground, gaining better leverage and an angle that makes you scream, your cunt squeezing down on him so tightly that he struggles to pull back to just his tip. He’s seen animals do this in the wild – he’s fucking you like an animal would, mounting you and grasping at your waist to pull you back against him harder, anything and everything to get him deeper inside, to reach a part of you that he’s sure no man or even you have touched.

You’re just too damn pretty, and as he gasps your name and clutches onto you tightly enough to leave bruises while ropes of runny cum fill you, Kyojuro decides that he needs to try out all the other positions Tengen had told him about – perhaps he’ll try something called 69 with you tomorrow.

Maybe that’ll get you to scream his name like this ‘Doggy’ has.

#I didn’t even like rengoku before this but now…?#omgggg #😭❤️#rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku #rengoku kyojuro smut

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theartofsimpatry · 2 months

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Yandere! Gyutaro General Profile

Yandere! Gyutaro x fem! reader

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

WC: 11K

DARLING PROFILE:

Motherly

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Patient

He’s emotionally stunted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Submissive

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not traditionally pretty

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Stalker

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Clingy

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

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

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

He doesn’t like how he’s not in control when he thinks of you, his heart racing and his palms growing sweaty, this weird, foreign sense of urgency fluttering in his stomach because he just needs to see you, to let his eyes settle onto your figure, to hear your voice or watch as you bite your lip in concentration or peacefully sleep.

He wants to kill you, but the more he thinks about it, the less sure of that he becomes – there’s this sour taste in his mouth when he imagines your dead body, and it makes him scratch at his neck to imagine you not being alive and therefore not watchable.

So, begrudgingly, he decides he shouldn’t harm you – not out of cause for your safety, but rather out of selfishness. This is, of course, just what he tells himself – in reality, it’s very much because he can’t stomach the thought of you getting hurt.

He doesn’t want a single scratch to mar your pretty skin or a single hair on your head to be touched – you’re perfect, and you’re his little bit of perfection, one that he’s never had before. He’s never had someone make his heart race like this, nor has he ever had someone be so unintentionally kind to him.

Originally, you’d caught his attention because you’d seen a shadow of him in Daki’s room in the house, and as her servant, you’d quickly closed the door and begged her forgiveness for interrupting, only to offhandedly compliment the colors of his hair as you attended to her.

Gyutaro, having been resting within her, had heard your compliment, and immediately was bristling, his heart fighting between extreme anger that you could be making fun of him, and a smaller, pathetically hopeful piece of him that was wondering if you’d meant it, if he’d really just received the first compliment of his life.

And from then on, he’s lost – his obsession festers quickly and strongly, his dependence on you growing with every minute of every day as he relives your compliment over and over, slowly finding everything you do endearing and interesting and – dare he say it – cute. And so, simply put, any time that Gyutaro is not sealed away inside of Daki, he’s diligently by your side, stuck to you like glue.

Once he develops feelings for you, he becomes much more independent than his previous self – rarely does he reside within Daki anymore, unless he needs to rest. He doesn’t like being trapped and separated from you, because while he still retains a level of consciousness of what’s going on around him when he’s sealed away, residing within her limits his ability to communicate with you.

And god, does he love to do that – once he’s stolen you away, he’s always, always talking to you, his gravelly voice ringing in your ears even when you try to sleep. He’s always asking your opinion on things, questions that seem pointless about your favorite foods, colors, activities, even personal questions about himself.

(What is your favorite thing about me? And don’t lie, I can sense when you lie; your lip trembles slightly, and I’ll sense your heart beating faster. It might be hard to answer, I’m so ugly…)

And of course, when he’s got you trapped in his thin, inhumanely strong arms while you both reside in Daki’s nest as the sun beats on the ground above, he’s reaching deeper, the questions becoming more personal.

Hey, what’s your biggest fear? What makes you the happiest? How does it feel to be so misfortunate as to have me as your lover?

He’s not always looking for answers – though most of the time he is – but rather he just likes the way you look at him while he asks. Your eyes are wide, your rapt attention given to him, and the way you hang onto his every word has him feeling important, understood, even if your answers aren’t what he wants to hear.

He’s never punished you for a wrong answer to these questions, though it’s easy to read his disappointment. Mostly, he absolutely hates it when your compliments fall flat, or if you aren’t as kind and loving as you normally are to him.

If you don’t give as heartfelt of a compliment to his appearance as you did yesterday – instead of praising his collarbone as being defined and curved like a bird’s song sounds, you’re telling him his eyes are pretty – he’ll pout, like some child, though the repercussions and feeling of terror you’ll experience are anything but childish.

He’s frowning, a scowl pulling at his features because he wants more. Tell him how his eyes make you feel – do you get nervous butterflies in your stomach from them? Do you lose yourself in the amber depths, getting lost in the way he gazes at you with such ardent adoration and lust?

Gyutaro is needy, really, and you’ll very quickly learn this. It takes a while for him to allow himself to touch you (he’s nervous at first, though he’d never ever admit it – he’s killed and injured too many, never having known how to be gentle and loving, and the thought of accidentally hurting you has him scratching at his face and chest, agony blooming in his heart), but once he crosses that mental barrier, he’s suddenly never taking his hands off of you.

The touches are small at first – a hand at your cheek while his thumb traces your cheekbone, the sharp nail unbearably close to your eye as you stay as still as you possibly can. He’ll run his fingers over your hair, the texture growing familiar as that strange, dazed look overtakes his features.

He’ll try to have you in his arms as often as he possibly can, whether that’s leaning over your body while you stand before him, or forcing you to sit in his lap as he runs a finger up and down your spine, marveling at how soft and warm and pliant you feel in his grasp.

(You’ll be able to tell he’s in awe, too, because there’s always something hard pressing against your lower back and the breaths he wheezes into your ear are strained and uneven and gaspy.)

He grows a penchant for simply watching you, his eyes fixed on your form as you bite your lip and shiver, the freezing temperatures of Daki’s lair making your skin burst into goosebumps.

He’ll occasionally bring back human items; you’ve woken up to a ratty woolen blanket covering your form before, a thin pillow under your head while Gyutaro’s face peers at you from a mere foot away, his own body lying down beside yours. You’re sure he was watching you sleep – as he often does – but you can’t deny the warmth the blanket offers you, and you’ll even whisper with a soft voice, thank you, Gyutaro.

(You hadn’t been aware previously to him that demons could blush, but the soft pink that envelopes his cheeks is difficult to ignore, as is the way he warbles and rolls over to face away from you, curling in on himself and violently scratching at his chest, the embarrassment and influx of something warm and sweet and good in his heart making it hard to look at you.)

Generally, Gyutaro’s main goal is to always be around you, whether that’s being in the same room, you in his arms, or simply just staring from aware.

He’s needy, absolutely desperate for you to acknowledge him and validate every insecurity still left over from his time as a human, and while he doesn’t believe you most of the time, it’s still euphoric to hear. So please, please tell him you love the way he holds you so delicately and carefully. (Don’t mention the way his protruding bones dig into your skin, causing your discomfort and making it hard to spend the hours laying with him that he wants.)

Tell him that you enjoy the way he says your name, that it sounds sweet and romantic and loving. (The odd lilt that sounds just a bit too much like a moan isn’t important, of course, nor is the way you sometimes see his eyes roll back just slightly, as if the mere thought of you is enough to get his knees weak and blood rushing south. It is, but again, it’s not important.)

Tell him that you wish he’d be with you forever, that you’ll never leave his side. (And when you’re forced to drink Muzan’s blood – and Gyutaro’s, too, because he wants to feel more connected to you - and you become a demon, don’t be surprised when he says with a gleeful smile that now we can truly be together, stuck with me for all eternity, clutching onto you with all the force and strength he’s been yearning to for months.)

He just loves you, or as much as a demon can, so just take it, yeah?

Protective

Once his feelings for you begin to form, the residual urge to protect Ume that resided within his human self comes into play.

Of course, he still protects and prioritizes Daki’s safety, but you’re equally as important to him, just in a different way. With Daki, it’s about survival – he cannot live without her, and she cannot live without him. They’re siblings, bonded by something deep and intangible, something that can never be broken.

But you?

Oh, it’s different with you – you’re something he wants to protect, his own sweet, naïve little human that he gets to keep as his own for all eternity. He wants to keep you pristine and healthy and detached from the vile, horrible human world, because he wants to feel like your protector, to feel like you need him, like you wouldn’t be alive today without him stopping all sorts of threats.

(He’s the only real threat facing you, of course, but it’s not like that – of course not, because he loves you, and why would he ever hurt you? He’s already decided not to eat you, so why do you still seem so uncomfortable around him, always flinching away from him or breathing hard when he comes near you?)

Despite his mantra of balancing the inequalities of misfortune he’s had to endure, he sees you as his sole light. You’re the only thing he’s been given by the heavens, and how could he squander the only good thing he’s ever had?

The prospect of you dying or becoming horribly injured makes his eye twitch and his fingers grasp onto his scythes so tightly that his knuckles turn white, his bloodlust palpable in the air. And so, Gyutaro takes your safety very, very seriously.

He himself only eats human flesh, but he knows (begrudgingly), that you won’t partake in this particular diet, so he scrounges up stolen food from the various shops in the district. He’s not quite sure what all you like, and he’d never gotten the opportunity to try most foods when he was a human, so he relies solely on smell to guide his food picking.

Everything he brings back is either extremely healthy (earthy materials with a residue of dirt on them, likely pulled directly from the ground out of someone’s home garden), or extremely unhealthy (boxes of pickled candies with minimal nutritional value).

He doesn’t remember what humans need in order to survive, so while the constant supply of food is good, the food itself is not.

And yet, there’s something oddly endearing about the way he watches while biting his lip (his sharp teeth drawing blood along with the nails that scratch at his biceps), eyes trained on you as you chew and swallow, watching every movement like a hawk. He’s so focused, the nervous question of do you like it rolling off his tongue before he can help himself, shame eating away at him because he sounds so damn pathetic. He’ll watch you eat, making sure you don’t choke, with his fingers shaking slightly as he holds himself back from reaching out to touch you, to make sure you’re real.

He’s always asking you if you’re feeling good, hoping that you don’t fall ill, because he remembers nothing of human medicine and he can’t exactly take you to a doctor with his condition.

And while his protectiveness in terms of your needs as his captee are admirable for a man-eating monster, the level at which he obsesses over your safety in other ways is less than ideal.

He’s so, so scared of you harming yourself that he does nearly everything for you. He’ll call you weak as he helps you bathe, his hands running over your naked skin with strokes that are much slower than they need to be, but he doesn’t mean what he says.

(You’re not even sure he's aware of what he’s saying – the way his eyes bulge out of his head every time he sees your bare ass tells you as much, as does the way his breathing gradually picks up as he bathes you, uneven breaths turning into labored pants until it reaches a fever pitch and oh – was that a moan of your name?)

He’ll tell you that you’re pathetic for needing his help walking around the lair, though you very much never asked for his assistance; nonetheless, his arms wrap under your armpits regardless, helping ease some of your weight off of your knees, the lack of exercise you receive from staying underground all day long making your muscles tired and weakened.

He’s condescending, really, though it’s painfully obvious he doesn’t mean to be. There’s malice in his eyes when he tells you these things, though you’ve learned he always has malice in his eyes, so is it really aimed towards you?

If he really hated humans and the blessed as much as he claims, would his grip on your delicate skin be as gentle as it is? You don’t think so, and while it hurts to be called weak and incapable every day, his insistence on helping you with the most trivial of tasks tells you that he cares about you more than he’s willing to admit.

And – heaven forbid – if you were to ever be in danger from another man?

Well, Gyutaro’s never enjoyed a kill so much, even against pesky Hashira. Because when he eventually tears out the man’s eyeballs, his teeth bared as he growls and groans at the fresh corpse, obliterating the body in a more graphic and violent way than usual, Gyutaro can’t help but feel smug because he saved you, he made sure this vile excuse for a life never laid a hand upon you.

And if it’s another demon that’s threatening you? Gyutaro’s an Upper Rank for a reason, and while this battle is significantly more terrifying for you to watch, he's torturing the demon as slowly and painfully as he possibly can with two main goals in mind.

Firstly, he’s making a point to the other creature, showing him that only he can lay eyes upon you, and only he can have and hold you.

And the other reason? Well, he can’t deny the way his heart races when you praise him for his power, telling him he’s so strong, I – I feel safe with you, Gyutaro…

He feels needed when he protects you, and so your best course of action is really to just let him baby you. Daki and you both might hate it, but Gyutaro needs to take care of you – he needs to hear you praise him and thank him for his hard work, and with every compliment that slips from your lips he only grows more and more obsessed.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Quite honestly, the likelihood of anyone else giving you the attention or time of day that Gyutaro is afraid of is extremely low.

The only people you’ll really ever see are himself and Daki; your lone companions for the rest of your life. Being kept hostage in Daki’s underground lair makes it very, very difficult for you to receive visitors, and unless you’re able to crawl at a steep upwards incline for miles through tunnels, you have very little hope of ever escaping. Consequently, the chances of you ever interacting with someone that could spark jealousy within Gyutaro while you’re under his thumb is very low.

But that’s the key part – while you’re under his thumb. He doesn’t act on his obsession very quickly, instead preferring to simply stalk you for months on end, watching and observing and letting his feelings fester, growing stronger and stronger until they eventually bubble over and he can’t not be with you at all hours of the day.

But that period of a few months between his feelings for you forming and when he eventually steals you away are wrought with jealousy and frustration on his end. He’s constantly, constantly paranoid that another man will come and sweep you off your feet, that you’ll fall head over heels for some lowly human man, that your heart will be stolen and possessed by some weak, pitiful human that doesn’t even deserve you.

(Not that he feels he deserves you either, but it’s different for Gyutaro – at least he can protect you, at least he can keep you safe. What can this man do? What could he possibly offer you, aside from perhaps a more pleasant face?)

He’s monumentally terrified of you ever finding someone else to love, the prospect of you leaving him behind, your feelings (whatever they may be) for him withering away into nothing while another man holds your attention and love being more painful to him than anything else he could ever imagine.

He doesn’t want to lose the feelings you give him, so he resigns himself to knowing he has to do something to stop all these men from potentially stealing you from him. He doesn’t like how weak this all makes him feel, the paranoia churning in his gut and forcing him to act in ways he'd never expected to, ways that disgust him, ways that embarrass him when Daki asks why the hell he seems to be going so far for some stupid human woman.

He’s never even totally sure himself, only guided by the knowledge that he has to keep you his, that he can never go back to his life before you wandered into it. All he knows is that when he hears your voice (so pretty and sweet, something he could listen to for hours if you’d let him) accompanied by a more masculine, male one, he’s seeing fucking red.

He’s never felt this angry before; Hashira have come and gone, made his sister cry and landed a few good hits on him, but he’s genuinely enraged in that moment, honestly livid at what’s happening right before him.

The idea that you could be talking to another man haunts him from that night forward, the jealousy brewing in his gut difficult to identify but horrible to harbor. Gyutaro gets jealous extremely easy during this time period between the formation of his feelings and eventually kidnapping you; he’s so terrified of another man grabbing your attention, and can he honestly be blamed?

He’s a monster, and his self esteem is so low that he’s sure every other living being on the planet is more attractive than him – so why would you ever choose him?

Gyutaro gets very, very angry when jealous.

He’s naturally quick to kill, but in the context of him being fearful of your attention wavering from him, he’s even more trigger happy. He’ll kill without a second thought, slashing at the heads of any man he thinks has even the merest idea of potentially pursuing you.

So when he’s coming back from a kill one night, with blood already staining his fingers and his stomach full, the last thing he expects to hear is your voice. He’d hated having to leave you alone; normally, he’s following you like a shadow, never more than a few feet behind you, following your every move and staying with you for hours on end.

You’ve never really noticed, as his skills of deception and hiding are high, and being this far away from you for a few hours has taken its toll on him. He’s exhausted, and every muscle in his body is taut and alert – ready to see you, to smell your now familiar scent and gaze at your beauty in whatever working kimono you were wearing this evening.

However, your voice brings him out of that reverie – you’re laughing. And so is the man you’re with. Immediately, Gyutaro’s face twists into an ugly scowl, his claws scratching at his cheeks and chest as he begins muttering under his breath, trying to pinpoint where the sound of your voices is coming from. He growls as he finally decides on the direction, before sprinting off, already arming himself with his sickles.

His shoulders are more hunched than usual when he lands on the balcony of the room you’re currently in, the man in question sitting across from you over a small table. Gyutaro’s eye twitches, his gaze raking over the man in question. He’s tall, he can tell; a brunette with soft hazel eyes, his physique decent underneath the black robes he wears. Immediately Gyutaro finds himself hating him even more – he looks rich, happy, handsome.

For a moment Gyutaro is frozen, simply watching the scene play out with wide, panicked eyes, his pulse racing dangerously, before the man’s reaching hand caressing yours over the table snaps him out of his daze. He growls lowly, charging into the room as quickly as he can and snatching the man into his arms, thrusting him outside and disappearing before you have a chance to register what just happened, everything happening in the blink of an eye.

As he runs through the crowded, loud backstreets of the Entertainment District out to somewhere more private where he can probably dispose of this scum, he hopes that he was fast enough that you didn’t catch a glimpse of him. He’d heard your confused calls of what he assumed to be the man’s name, but that only made him angrier, his steps faster and faster as he neared the woods.

Soon he’s surrounded by trees, their shade darkening his body, only allowing his eyes to illuminate. Gyutaro throws the man to the ground, the dirt of the forest surely staining his robes an ugly brown color. The man hacks as he touched the ground, the force knocking the air out of his lungs, but Gyutaro doesn’t wait.

No, instead he throws the man against a nearby tree with a scythe, the sound of cracking making a wide, gleeful smile cross his features. The man’s back is broken, surely, but it’s not enough.

You think you’re special, don’t you?

He warbles, eyes narrowing while the smile stays spread across his lips. The anger in his veins is so potent that it forces him to take staggering steps, his mind too hyper focused on killing this man to walk properly.

You think you can have any woman you want, don’t you?

The man gasps something, though his body isn’t moving from where the scythe has him pinned against the bark.

Gyutaro spits at him, a glob of saliva landing on the man’s cheek.

I may be the repulsive one, but you’re pretty pathetic too, huh? Letting someone as ugly as me kill and devour you…

Gyutaro cuts himself off with a giggle, his fingers once again coming up to scratch at his face and neck.

Then I’ll make you suffer… you’ll watch as I feast on your flesh.

And with that he charges forward, his fingers wrapping around the man’s forearm and pulling, hard, the resounding sound of tearing flesh making him grin. As he brings the severed arm up to his mouth, blood streaming down his arm, Gyutaro can only shake, the thought of eating the man that dared touch you and steal your attention making a strange sort of euphoria dance through his veins. Not a piece of the man is left by the time Gyutaro is done an hour later, his stomach sated as he scowls down at the bloodstains left by the stranger.

(He’d paid special attention to truly savor and enjoy the hand that had touched you – licking at the skin, a moan tumbling from his lips because this is the closest he’s ever gotten to touching you himself, and even if it was the disgusting man’s arm, the experience was still intimate, sweet, enough to force him to have to lean against the nearest tree so as not to fall to his knees when they buckle.)

He spits once more at the ground, cursing the human, before sprinting off to the room you’d been in, hoping with everything he has that you’d still be there.

Maybe he could watch you for a while; you always looked prettiest when you were unaware, and maybe you’d even fall asleep so he could come closer, so he could smell you, touch you ever so lightly, listen to the way your heartbeat beats again, and again, and again…

The rage subsides slowly as he places himself outside the window of your home in the House, his harsh breathing slowly returning to normal, until a light pink flush coats his cheek and he coos your name, wishing you’d turn around and smile at him, that you’d cup his face and tell him I love you Gyutaro, no one but you.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Because Gyutaro’s feelings for you take a while to accumulate (mostly through watching you while he’s dormant inside of Daki, or stalking you from the shadows as he grows more and more fascinated with you), he’ll slowly come to the conclusion that you can’t be left alone.

He discovers he fucking hates not having you next to him; you’re the one thing he looks forward to every day.

Seeing your smile ignites this odd sense of happiness inside his chest, a feeling he’s not sure he’s ever experienced before.

His fingers shake when he’s around you; nerves eating him alive, because as desperately as he wants you to give him attention, he’s also terrified you’ll find yourself repulsed by him, that he’ll do something that causes you to hate him or be afraid of him.

He needs your focus on him, but he’s just so, so scared that you’ll reject him – which, in combination with his jealousy, leads Gyutaro to an odd dilemma.

On the one hand, he always, always wants your presence near him – you’re like his drug, the one he’s hopelessly and happily addicted to, and to be without you would mean death to both the small grains of humanity still within him, and any sense of self he possesses.

And on the other hand, he’s terrified that you’ll find someone better than him, that you’ll replace him and leave him in the dust behind you, heartbroken and enraged that you’re gone.

And so, he does the only thing he can think to do – if he’s afraid of losing you and your gorgeous, bright smile aimed at him, then taking you before you can leave is the only solution.

He’s not particularly regretful about stealing you away from your life; you didn’t love the world you were in, he knows that. He knows that despite now being stuck with a grotesque monster, you’re in a better place now.

Because despite his flaws (both internally and externally), the one thing that Gyutaro can do better than any other man on Earth is protect you. He’s strong, capable, destructive, and thoroughly able to take care of you.

Thus, don’t you belong fully under his protection, where the world can get at you (and you can’t get at it)?

Gyutaro believes so, and stealing you away not only keeps other men away from you, but now you’re fully his. Daki’s lair is empty most of the time anyways, and maybe in the dimness you won’t see Gyutaro very clearly.

Maybe then the compliments that come from your lips will feel more real – and maybe then, Gyutaro can will himself to believe that you mean it when you say you don’t think he’s ugly, simply special.

Of course, Gyutaro is a demon. He’s by no means an ideal captor – he’s only marginally aware of what humans need in order to survive, and despite his intense devotion to you, he’s not fully changing his personality just because of your presence.

He becomes much softer around you; less harsh around the edges, more like a nervous teenage boy because fuck does he want to impress you.

He doesn’t want you to be disappointed in him, so he tries his absolute best to keep you comfortable and happy, though he isn’t always successful. He doesn’t fully understand that insects and scraps of food from various shops in the district aren’t your preferred meal, but don’t mention it to him. He doesn’t realize that the one kimono he’d stolen you away in has grown to be caked in mud and dirt since you’ve been ‘living’ in this lair of his, but you won’t say anything out of fear that the alternative is wearing nothing.

Don’t ever say anything even somewhat negative to him about his actions; he’s extremely sensitive, and one small critique of him in any way has him caving in on himself, scratching at every inch of his skin as warbles away about how you don’t love him, you’re lying to him, how he knew there was no way you could love such a disgusting monster.

He’ll close himself off, the anger and hurt making his head spin, and after a long few minutes of him wallowing in his self pity, he’s suddenly up, staring at you with wide yellow eyes and a tear or two, his hands shaking as he lunges at you.

However, while he’s somewhat stand-offish at the start of your captivity, he slowly warms up to you.

Mostly, he’s just terrified that you’ll confirm all of the insecurities he possesses; he’d die if you were to call him ugly, his heart cracking into a million little pieces while tears well in his eyes and his lips spread into an ugly sneer, bitterly telling you he knew it, I knew a spoiled whore like you could never love a monster like me.

Of course, you know well enough not to do that (you’ve seen Daki and him smeared with blood too many times to fear how they’d deal with your resistance), but the fear is very present in his heart.

He’s always nervous you’ll turn back on your compliments, that your sweet words and touches are born out of trying to trick him into being falsely secure, then tearing the rug out from under him, leaving him a shell of what’s left of himself.

However, as you don’t morph into the monster he secretly half-hopes you’ll become, Gyutaro slowly grows more trusting of you, more believing of your kind words.

He starts touching you softly – his fingers brushing over your skin, over the fabric of your kimonos. He’ll throw an occasional smile at you under the guise of being teasing, though despite the stinging, rude comment he likely uttered, the quirk of his lips looks strangely genuine.

Eventually, he’ll allow himself to hug you, your softer body against his making his knees feel weak, his heart leaping up to his throat.

And as his physicality grows more lenient with you, as do his words – instead of only teasing, crude remarks made towards you, he slowly begins complimenting you as well. He’s used to hiding behind his mean words as a defense mechanism, but when you’re looking up at him with your watery, scared eyes, how can he call you a pathetic excuse for a human?

You’re beautiful; every imperfection and blemish on your body is gorgeous to him, and how could he ever make you feel terrible about yourself?

And so, instead of telling you that you’re really pretty sad, you know? Laying on the ground scared like a worm, a poor excuse he’ll instead say you have some dirt on your cheek, you’re so messy.

It’s not that much better, but as time passes his words slowly grow less harsh and more appreciative, until he’s pulling you close one night and whispering into your ear that he thinks he loves you, that he needs you, don’t ever leave me alone, I can’t live without you.

Aside from the way he acts around you, your living conditions will be painfully unchanging. You’ve been relocated to Daki’s lair, deep underground. A few lamps were brought in by Gyutaro so that you could see, the warm light making you feel slightly better as the chill of underground seeps into your bones.

He’s collected a number of human items for you in an attempt to get you feeling more at home; a collection of blankets sits at the end of your futon, a makeshift pillow sitting on the other end. A few novels have been delivered to you, and while you’re not a particular fan of any of the genres present, you’ve read them cover to cover more times than you can count during your time with Gyutaro.

He brings you human foods (though they’re marginally considered food), and he’s placed an instrument he stole from the House down there as well, as entertainment for when he can’t be with you.

(When he’d brought the instrument, he’d set it down in front of you and scampered back, his shoulders hunched in slightly, nervously glancing at you as you appraised his gift, his heart racing wildly because do you like it? Are you happy he thought of you and stole this for you? Are you appreciative? Will you give him a kiss as a thank you?)

Daki is hardly ever around, and while her belt can be annoying when it speaks, a quick conversation with Gyutaro about not bothering you had Daki reluctantly relenting to keeping her belt mute, only furthering her irritation with you.

Gyutaro is always in the lair with you unless he’s directly needed by Daki, or to feed. As such, you’d better be prepared to constantly be stared at, watched, poked and prodded, your sleeping body waking up to a different position than the one you fell asleep in, nail marks still imprinted on your skin.

Gyutaro just really, really likes having you in close contact, and while he knows you likely aren’t extremely pleased by your forced relocation, isn’t this better?

Because now you’re safe – with him, where he can keep every man and demon away from you, keeping you selfishly all for him.

PUNISHMENTS:

As a captor, Gyutaro is a delicate balance of gentleness and abrasiveness.

Of course, he’s a demon. He’s naturally violent, crunching human flesh between his teeth often, and the strength in just his pinky is more than every muscle in your body combined.

And as a demon, his temper is rocky, at best. He’s extremely temperamental, and it takes little to nothing to set off his anger.

When it comes to you, he’s marginally more in control, but for the most part you need to exercise extreme caution once you’re in his captivity.

Gyutaro isn’t the best communicator, which often times lands you in the unfortunate position of having to guess what makes him mad; you’ve built a list as time goes on, mentally noting any time he seems to get agitated, when he starts scratching more at his neck or his voice gets tight and curt. The list is vivid in your mind, something you diligently avoid bringing up in conversation or doing, if only because you’re still terrified that one day it’ll be your blood staining his teeth or splattered across the metal of those scythes he carries.

And the list is long – he’s easy to set off, whether it’s from mentioning the name of another man, or even just slightly flinching when his hands begin travelling all over your body, his breath ragged and deep.

But you’ve found, through experience, that there are three things he tolerates the worst, one of which being any mention of your past life before meeting him and Daki.

It’s not that he’s not interested in knowing about your hobbies and the people you knew (and, frankly, all that stalking makes you having any habits he’s not aware of extremely unlikely), but rather that he gest so, so jealous when you talk about former friends or important people in your life.

It pisses him off to hear you talk so familiarly about anyone that isn’t him, and each jealous thought is immediately followed up by worries about what they do better than him, if they’re more attractive (he’s sure they are), and just how much better than him they must be.

He’ll also get upset if you mention anything about wanting to escape or leave the lair. He takes it as a sign that you’re not happy here, with him, that you don’t think he’s doing a good enough job of taking care of you.

And lastly, while he knows you’re stuck with a demon like him and are understandably terrified, he doesn’t tolerate your nervous twitches and flinches when he comes near you, or your hurtful words insulting him in any way.

He views it as you rejecting him and his presence, and that’s a sure fire way to find letting a deep scowl settle across his features, his fingers tugging at his hair while he runs off to find some human to kill and feast upon to release his anger.

It’s easy to set him off, yes, but while Gyutaro is by no means gentle, he won’t often actually physically harm you.

He might, potentially, begrudgingly, to prove a point, but the worst he’ll do is break an arm or a finger, something to scare you but not actually threaten your life. And even then, this will take a huge amount of anger on his part to actually follow through on. He’s still hesitant to hurt you in any way, too afraid he’ll accidentally lose control of his strength and kill you, and so frankly these situations are often just as painful for him as it is you.

He avoids these physical punishments, though, unless he absolutely has no other choice – but as a general rule, a twisted arm or swollen joint isn’t the repercussions that await you when you anger him.

No, instead Gyutaro does something much worse – his punishments aren’t planned, purely emotional outbursts that end up warping your view of him, damaging your perception of reality until you’re so unsure of how you real feel or what he really is that you’ll blindly cling to him, the Stockholm Syndrome festering and growing until you become just as dependent on him as he is you.

Generally, any negative comments towards him set him off, but any comments specifically referencing his appearance will bring out a very specific type of rage, and this particular brand of anger is very, very scary.

What makes it so dangerous is that Gyutaro is not only pissed, angry, livid, he’s also incredibly hurt. He hates allowing himself to believe your kind compliments and words, but every once in a while he’ll let them settle in, letting hope bloom in his chest that maybe you mean it.

(He’ll delude himself into believing that you really like his eyes, or that you think his facial birthmarks are endearing, that you aren’t just saying that so he won’t kill you. And it makes him feel good, a sense of belonging and bashfulness making him struggle to meet your gaze and instead tug at your kimono and ask you to say it again and again and again, committing the sound of such sweet words coming from your lips to his memory.)

And the main reason for his anger when you lash out and call him hideous is because he should have known.

It’s a slap in the face – how could he have allowed himself to be so foolish and naïve? How could he have allowed himself to get comfortable, to forget his cursed appearance, to forget that he’s a monster in every sense of the word?

He’s frustrated at himself for not seeing this coming; there’s no way you’d ever like someone like him, and it was stupid of him to even entertain the notion that you don’t see him as a grotesque, terrifying predator.

And so, as the words slip past your lips, he’s immediately freezing, his shoulders going slack and his jaw hanging open slightly. Don’t touch me, you monster!

The lair is eerily silent for a few moments, your words processing in his mind as he stares at you, the only sound filling your ears being your own heavy, nervous breaths.

But soon a small, nearly breathless giggle echoes in your ears, the sound making you suck in a sharp breath. The chuckle soon turns into quiet laughter, rising in pitch and volume until Gyutaro is cackling, his voice cracking and hiccupping as his eyes go wide, his hands scratching welts so deeply into his sides that it almost concerns you.

His whole body is shaking, shoulders violently jumping up and down at the force of his maniacal laughter, but eventually it subsides, his hair hanging forward to cover his face.

Do you think that I’m a monster? You think I’m a freak, huh?

His voice is more unsteady than normal, you note with a sense of fear. He tilts his head up slightly, peeking at you from underneath his bangs, his lips pulled into some mixture of a grimace and a grin, the sight making a shiver crawl down your spine. It’s only now that you notice his eyes are red rimmed, his cheeks wet, as if he’d been laughing so hard he was crying – or, perhaps, he really was crying.

Huh? Answer me, dammit!

He’s screaming now, the grimace getting tighter. He takes a step forward, and you shuffle backwards, scooting the backside of your kimono across the dirt as you shuffle back against the wall, trying to get as much space between the two of you as possible.

Answer me, you bitch!

You squeeze your eyes shut and whimper out a n-no, but that only makes him angrier, taking another step forward, the sound of his foot crunching against the dirt making you sob.

You’re a liar! A filthy, disgusting liar!

His words hurt, though you can’t explain why. They make you flinch, your hands balling into fists as you bring your knees up to your chest, trying to become as small as possible as he takes another few steps towards you.

You’re nothing without me! He’s screeching now, his voice unbareably high, raw emotion shining through as the words start tumbling from his lips. You’d be dead without me! Imagine that? Something as beautiful as you needing a monster like me to keep you from getting devoured by some demon or some human. You’re pathetic, are you ashamed of yourself?

You’re crying now, fat, ugly tears streaming down your cheeks, but he’s too blinded by his rage to notice.

Does it make you feel good to think you’re better than me? Does it make you feel important? You’re a liar! How dare you do this? How dare you lie to me and tell me that you love me, when you just think I’m ugly and horrible!

His voice is close now, too close, and as you peel open your watery eyes, you see his own yellow ones mere inches from your face. His teeth are bared, every muscle in his neck and chest flexing as he struggles to stop himself from reaching out and clawing at your face, destroying your face until he can no longer recognize you.

You’re speaking before you can help yourself, fear and panic and a cold, gripping sense of regret climbing into your throat.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I don’t think you’re a monster, I’m just – I’m just scared Gyutaro! I’m scared of how you make me feel! I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me, please…

You cut yourself off with a sob, fingers digging into your palms, and as you close your eyes and wait for something to happen, all you’ll be met with is the sound of a gulp, his breath still huffing against your skin. It’s silent for a few moments, before you brave a peek to look at him.

His eyes are wide, the yellow bright and still tinged with red as he stares at you. His chest is heaving, breaths falling heavily, and he’s biting his lip. Blood wells up against the wound, but he doesn’t seem to notice. No, he’s staring too intensely at you to notice anything.

Scared of how I make you feel? He questions, moving a few centimeters closer to you.

You nod shakily, swallowing down as much fear as you can manage as you whisper out that he makes you feel wanted, in a way I’ve never felt before, and I don’t know how to deal with that. I want to hate you, but I can’t.

He makes a sound then, like a wounded puppy, deep in his throat as his brows quirk up. Something in his stomach twists, a pleasant feeling settling at the base of his ribs.

You can’t hate me? You can’t despise me?

You nod, biting your lip, and Gyutaro stares at you for a few moments, before his arms are suddenly wrapping around your waist, his body closing the distance as he pins you against the wall, his face buried into your neck and his waist worming its way between your thighs.

You love me, you love me.

He’s chanting against your chin, a bit of his saliva getting onto your neck. His grip on you is tight, soffucating even, making it difficult to breath. He doesn’t seem to notice, though, and with a small, unsure swallow, you try your best to rub at any skin of his that’s available, soft petting motions that make another little whimper muffle against you.

You love me you love me you love me you love me –

It’s a mantra, like he’s trying to convince himself, but as he spends a good forty minutes repeating this to himself, keeping you trapped in his arms against the dirt wall, you’ll find yourself wondering if he’s really even lying – do you love him?

You hadn’t been lying when you said you aren’t able to hate him. He’s a monster and has killed countless people, kidnapped you, keeping you locked up and always touching you and forcing you to look at him, but do you love him?

Maybe you do, because as you find yourself relaxing into his arms, finding comfort in the feeling of his hot warm breath against your skin, you almost feel at ease. Maybe it’s survival instincts, maybe it’s something else – it doesn’t matter though, does it?

Because you’re stuck with him, and he’ll never, ever let you go.

OVERALL DANGER:

9/10

Gyutaro is less dangerous to you and more dangerous to those around you.

He’s by all accounts shy in the beginning of his obsession with you – stalking you relentlessly from the shadows, watching and waiting and never leaving your side for even a moment, content to simply see you as you smile and sleep and live your life.

He won’t ever hurt you – at least, not often – and in fact protects you to a fanatical degree, but the same can’t be said for the other people in your life.

He’s very, very willing to eliminate anyone he deems as competition for your attention and love, enjoying devouring them and ending their miserable lives in the most painful, drawn-out way possible. He views himself as your protector, watching from the shadows and acting as your twisted guardian angel, until suddenly it’s not enough – he needs more.

He needs to have you looking at him, acknowledging him, your pretty voice saying his name and your soft hands on his calloused, rough skin.

He needs to have you fall asleep in his arms, your breathing even and steady and so very precarious, your unaware and vulnerable state making him lick his lips and slowly, carefully, timidly press a clumsy kiss against your lips, immediately pulling back with pink tinged cheeks because oh, he wasn’t expecting your lips to be so soft and warm.

If you can look past the kidnapping, murder and invasions of your privacy, Gyutaro is honestly not the worst – he’s temperamental and difficult to handle with all of his triggers, but if you can find yourself balancing and managing to placate him, life with him won’t be too terrible.

He'll care for you as best as he knows how, keep you company whenever he can, drown you in physical affection once he musters up the courage, and over time his harsh comments will eventually morph into honest, genuine compliments about things so specific that you’ll feel seen, understood, perhaps even loved.

Because while Gyutaro may be rough around the edges and difficult to understand, he really does love you in some twisted, fucked up way – and if you’re to be stuck with him for the rest of your life, isn’t it better that you accept it?

Wouldn’t it just be easier for both of you to let him hold you, to whisper to him that you’re happy with him?

Just accept your fate – you’ll be much, much happier that way.

#this is so good!!#gyutaro x reader #gyutaro

391 notes · View notes

theartofsimpatry · 2 months

Text

Yandere! Gyutaro NSFW Profile

Yandere! Gyutaro x fem! reader

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

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.

#op thank you😭#this is literally so good❤️😭#gyutaro #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro smut

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