I’m convinced Doma is projecting his own existential futility and helplessness on Kotoha here.
We’re talking about a man who has lived 100+ years as a fake seer while being fully aware of it, but has managed to delude himself on some level that he is doing something right, even though deep down he knows he really hasn’t. Doma knows it - he’s known it since he was small, when he cried out of pity for the people who sought salvation from him, knowing that he couldn’t give it to them.
We’re talking about a man who has been spoiled, doted on and revered for 100+ years as a holy being - he probably doesn’t know how to wipe his backside by himself, or at least wash himself. He would be utterly helpless in the outside world, and he knows it.
That’s why he stayed as the cult leader all those years, and why he only ever seemingly left it to attend Upper Moon meetings or hunt humans. We were never shown him acting as a human in any capacity or scenario other than Gracious Founder. Yeah, he might’ve, but we never saw it. Doma clearly can only shine in two environments, both of which he has 100+ years of experience in, and are literally the only thing he knows: the cult, and killing people.
So when Kano throws it back at him, the reality of his miserable, empty life -
Doma gets angry. His smile drops and he goes for the kill. These thoughts have clearly always been whispering at the back of his mind, but he always managed to suppress it with the delusion of ‘helping others’. It’s tragically ironic really, for someone who saw so much delusion around him and who believed himself above it, Doma spent his life fooling himself to keep living.
I keep saying this, but I’ll reiterate again: an unfeeling psychopath who plays pretend for power/status/money etc. does not get rattled by a little girl stating the obvious and questioning his life’s worth.
Look at his face, and the background. This is his immediate reaction to Akaza's death. He's genuinely shocked here. Surprises, things completely out of his expectation and experience, bring real emotion out of him.
As much as he teased Akaza, this reaction makes it clear that Douma recognised his strength, and that his comments to Kokushibo about Akaza being weaker than them was the result of poor socialisation - an attempt at genuine empathy that backfired horribly, because of course it did. Douma doesn't know what normal is, or how to behave in a setting outside the cult.
If he really did look down upon Akaza and believed him to be weak, Douma would not be shocked to sense Akaza's death. He would have been expecting it, and say something along the lines of 'I told you so!'.
It's only when he starts crying and calling Akaza his best friend that Kanao calls him a liar. At that point, he was faking. He didn't know Akaza, they weren't close, but Douma is so desperate to have some form of genuine attachment that he had to try something.
Douma’s interiority: the consummation of childhood
Ahh, so! I’ve seen people do analyses on Douma and while i loved them all equally, i also wanna add my thoughts on him~
Before I begin this, I want to say I’m no professional and anything I say is out of personal experience, speculation and/or reading around. Please take this with a grain of salt~
@trashymcree same to all of that- both of them have faced trauma, it’s just the way they were affected by it that is different (and the way it’s portrayed makes a big difference in how people see them)- both are very complex cases, though. and thank you! hoping you had a good day too!
Replying way late, but just wanted to add that I think I think the difference between Akaza and Douma’s response to their respective trauma/abuse is what sealed many people’s perception of them:
Akaza reacted with righteous fury towards the severing of his emotional connections and after losing the will to live, was given the strength to improve his circumstances/return his happiness and worked hard to do so (even if it was misguided and delusional).
Douma reacted with passive acceptance, internalising others’ expectations and desires and used that foundation to continue living, accepting a life surrounded by fake ties and doing nothing to change that. Even after becoming an immortal demon who could have destroyed the temple, everyone in it, and done whatever he wanted, Douma remained the sect leader.
Akaza reacted with understandable emotions and pushed against his misfortunes. His reaction is much more palatable because his feelings are more proactive and intense, and because he did what he could to fix things, even if his methods weren’t the right way to do it.
Douma, on the other hand, accepted his abuse and trauma as his lot in life - his purpose, even - to the point that even when the opportunity to change his circumstances presented itself (Muzan) like Akaza, he did nothing. He ate his followers, sure, but it was a warped extension on his pre-existing saviour mindset, which was placed on him basically from birth.
I think this is understandable as well, but a much harder pill to swallow. It’s also easy I think to see his lack of reaction as psychopathy, and Shinobu tells him to his face that he’s mad. Maybe he is, after all he went through. He’s never lived a normal life, never known true human feeling from anyone.
Douma’s reaction is the worst, most dreaded existence. Douma is an abuse victim who has accepted, minimised and rationalised his abuse and remained in the same building as his abusers/toxic enablers, and would have done so forever if he hadn’t been killed. He has completely withdrawn emotionally from the world and others, while Akaza wears his heart on his sleeve and holds the memory of loved ones dear.
I think that terrifying reality of Douma’s life, as well as his emotional withdrawal, make it hard for people to see the damage he received and accept that he may not just be some unhinged, unfeeling psychopath. I think Douma clung to the sham, even if he knew it was a sham and that nobody really cared about him, as a means to survive. He didn’t know anything else. The only thing he felt he could do was go along with it, clinging to the belief that at least he was helping people in some way.
I think Douma displayed real emotion in his past, too, not just in limbo with Shinobu. There are two occasions:
The moment where little Douma cries hearing the desperate pleas of his followers, who come to him like he is a divine seer. Douma knows it is a lie, he knows the whole thing is a sham, he is a sham, and he pities both them and himself. [x]
When he cries over Kotoha’s (Inosuke’s mother’s) death/Inosuke’s presumed death. He had nobody to act for, he wasn’t in front of an audience, so there was no need to fake sadness here like he did in front of Kanao. [x]
Can we all take a moment to appreciate the raw, feral emotion that was put into this still shot? It's like Gyutaro is looking not only at Tanjiro but at us. This one look encapsulates all of his hate for people and the world.
The Black Crown is an important symbol of the Karmapa, the Lama who heads the Karma Kagyu school of Tibetan Buddhism. The crown signifies his(the Karmapa) power to benefit all sentient beings. For 300 years, Tibetan Buddhist monks known by the title of Karmapa have donned the Black Crown in a ceremony designed to liberate participants from the endless cycle of birth, death and rebirth.
Legend says that only people with spiritual insight can see the true black crown, said to be woven from the hair of female deities. Those who can see it at the Black Crown Ceremony are released from the cycle of life, death and rebirth.
It’s also worth noting that Douma’s childhood shares a few similarities with the 3rd Karmapa’s
Born to a family of a tantric practitioners of the Nyingma lineage in Dingri Langkor, in the Tsang region of Central Tibet, Rangjung Dorje sat up straight at the age of three and proclaimed that he was the Karmapa. At the age of five, he went to see Orgyenpa, who had prepared for his visit on the basis of a prescient dream. Orgyenpa recognized the child as the reincarnation of Karma Pakshi, the Second Karmapa.
He gave him the Vajra Black Crown and all the possessions of the second Karmapa and transmitted all the Kagyu teachings to him. The education and training of the third Karmapa began at the age of seven, when he received the novice ordination from Lama Kunden Sherab and his formal enthronement as the Karmapa at Tsurphu monastery. For the next eleven years he studied the complete teachings of the Kagyus and Nyingmas in Tsurphu.
Update: Modern tibetan buddhist crowns bellow. We can clearly see where Koyoharu Gotoge got their inspiration from.
I love this so much! The hat takes on so much meaning in regard to Douma’s life and outlook.
Duty vs Freedom/Humanity
The hat becomes the ultimate symbol of his role as leader of the Paradise Faith cult, passed down to him from his father - undeniable proof that he has the power to bless those who follow him and guide them to enlightenment.
Whether Douma has the hat on in a given scene suddenly takes on an extra layer of meaning. When he is actively hunting and eating humans (e.g.: when confronted by Shinobu in the process of eating), he has his hat on. And in these moments, Douma talks about his actions in the context of his divine power to save others, his duty to do so. He is the epitome of the divine child his parents proclaimed him to be (more about that in another post).
When his hat is off, away from battle, all that rhetoric goes away. When he meets Gyutaro and Ume for the first time and talks about saving them, his reasoning is that he’s ‘kind’. When he attends the Upper Moon gathering, he leaves his hat behind, and only puts it on again when he’s sent back to the temple. He doesn’t try to convert anyone, or mention anything about his activities or beliefs as cult leader. He’s solely interested in getting the attention and company of his fellow Upper Moons. In these cases, his actions are personal to him. They are his own will. Human.
Douma removing the hat also displays the bloodstain mark that shows his true nature, the truth he must hide in order to fulfil his divine duty. But it was a duty Douma never wanted. He was a child when his parents proclaimed him a special being, blessed with Buddhahood before he could understand what it was. And Douma knew this was false, but he hid that knowledge for the sake of others’ happiness. He likely viewed demonhood as his true calling, the path to selfhood, because he could never be himself with the cult.
It’s tragically ironic that the 'do’ in Douma’s name means 'child’, because he was never a child to the adults around him. The hat gave him power he didn’t have to help people he didn’t know. The hat showed his followers that before them sat a being capable of understanding, guiding and saving their lives.
Douma removing his hat, and, by extension, accepting Muzan’s blood and becoming a demon, was his way of seeking agency and - ironically - humanity. He bowed down before someone for the first time. He likely saw Muzan’s offer as the only way out, a way to tear himself away from the stranglehold of his duty. But after so long, not truly connecting with even the equals he met, he could not become himself.
EDIT: Also, the origin of the black crown being the hair of female deities probably accounts for Douma’s preference for eating women. In both cases, they are partly responsible for the source of power the wearer wields.
☆☾ - He has developed and perfected a strong sense of patience. He’s introverted and has a high perception ability which helps him to read humans or demons intentions.
☆☾ - He’s warm and welcoming towards the people he cares about. I think there is nobility in his heart, despite everything.
☆☾ - He often thinks about his long lost wife and family that he abandoned and a frequent tug of guilt floods his heart. He shakes his head to drive away from the thoughts as he convinces himself that it was necessary, and they lived happier without him and his failures.
☆☾ - To me, Kokushibo looks like a man whose sense of humour is deadpan and stupid obvious puns.
☆☾ - Kokushibo lives in the forests at the top of different mountains of the same area. He hides his victims by passing off the corpse remains as attacks of wild animals or fatal accidents from falling from the cliffs of the mountains.
☆☾ - Upper rank one likes eating humans eyes as if they were grapes. He also likes the taste of warm, soft belly fat. I think Kokushibo kills the humans he eats quickly, so as not to attract attention with unnecessary screaming or crying.
Douma
☆☾ - I think he feels way more than he lets on. To me, Douma is someone who’s in constant pain, but he decides to block those feelings and refuses to acknowledge them because of the vulnerability that they bring.
☆☾ - He’s the definition of “laugh not to be sad”, you know?
☆☾ - It’s easier to think that he’s fulfilling the role his parents imposed to him while he claims he does it willingly to save others, rather than recognizing he was heavily abused as a child and that due to that he literally as no purpose in life.
☆☾ - I think the best way to get on his good side is to show A) sympathy B) That you don’t need him and therefore, he can rely on you.
☆☾ - Douma has the kind of humour that makes fun of physical harm or pain, like falls and bumps etc.
☆☾ - In the Paradise Faith Cult is really easy to him to disappear people since he just has to convince everyone that people who frequent the temple find happiness elsewhere, and they leave the village to fulfil their dreams.
☆☾ - I think he has a couple of servants, and I think said servants know what he is, but they’re self-centered humans who think good payment is too good to tell on him. They clean the blood out of the carpets.
Akaza
☆☾ - I adore the Taisho rumors that he likes to talk to humans. I think Akaza is one of the most human-like Demons out of everyone in the upper ranks.
☆☾ - I think he retains certain things of his personality as Hakuji. Akaza can be caring in ways no other upper ranks can. Had circumstances been different, he would have gotten along with Tamayo.
☆☾ - I think he’s somewhat a nomad. He moves from place to place in search of strength and as he moves a lot is hard to track him down.
☆☾ - His hunting method consists of breaking the human’s neck to then take the body to a nearby river or water body, which allows him to eat peacefully without leaving traces. Akaza has an special liking for the liver and heart of humans. I think it’s what he eat first.
☆☾ - I don’t think he’s particularly violet with normal people, he just kills them and that’s it. In the case of Demon Slayers however, it’s a complete different story. He enjoys going berserk mode with them.
☆☾ - I think it’s cute he wants a training partner, but can’t find any demon slayer who’s strong enough to meet his standards and when he did find them, they all rejected his offering.
Hantengu
☆☾ - He hunts via scamming people. I think Hantengu uses his frail old-man appearance to ask young ladies and men to help him get home, which is in the forest or far from the village, to then devour them. He eats the guts and most of te vital organs and then leaves the rests behind like carrion for other demons.
☆☾ - He bits the pulse line first to drink form there, and enjoys the human’s expression as they die.
☆☾ - As his nails aren’t as sharp as other Demon’s he uses his horns to rip human skin when he needs to by holding them above his head and then sliding them down over his horns.
☆☾ - Hantengu uses his ability to split into two younger and visibly stronger demons to cover more territory and keep devouring people.
Gyokko
☆☾ - I don’t like this bitch so I’ll skip him.
Daki
☆☾ - I will address Daki with they/them pronouns because both Ume and Gyutaro exist in that body as one being.
☆☾ - I think Daki is crueler than Ume and Gyutaro separately, since they embody Gyutaro’s resentment towards people and his wishes to step over anyone who interferes with his goals, and Ume’s vanity and influenceable personality. I think this contributed to Daki being a hard-to-please, overly capricious, tantrum Demon.
☆☾ - Daki has more nuances to Ume’s personality, and how she portrays herself while Gyutaro simply lags behind like a voice in her head telling her what to do when necessary. That’s how they coordinate Daki.
WARNING: It includes some NSFW stuff and Xenobiology | MDI
They can’t produce body heat.
They don’t feel sexual attraction the way humans normally do. Let me elaborate on that one: Demons are some sort of living-dead creatures who reproduce via spreading Muzan’s blood. Taking this into account it doesn’t make sense that they experience sexual desire. At least not to me. However, I believe that they are capable of having and enjoying sex.
I think demon’s sexual parts don’t look human-like. But it depends.
Demons are sterile.
I think that Demons can “mate for life”. Once they choose a companion, it won’t change unless they are killed, and Depending on the shared feelings even death might not be enough to tear their mind away from their partner which is usually a human, since demons can’t exist in mutual company of their kind. This takes me to the next point:
They are all touch-starved, and often depressed. Terribly, Terribly lonely… Yet, most of them would gladly have their throats slit by a Demon Slayer rather than admitting to holding such feelings.
I think that once they become Demons they awaken new kinds of instincts. One of which is to get frozen by fear when an imminent danger abruptly reaches their weakest point: their throat. If they survive, the brain segregates serotonin and is stimulated in the reward areas. It’s compensation for having survived.
They feel a slight tingle when the sunrise is close. Depending on how self-aware the demon is, they will notice and eventually pay attention to it. Like a gut feeling.
As we know, Demons tend to be very protective of what they consider their territory, and I think that not only refers to the lands they inhabit but also extends to property and even living beings. When something or someone is theirs, is theirs.
As they have heightened senses, they tend to have sensory overstimulation problems if in a heavy environment such as city nights.
Smart and practical Demons can bury themselves by digging a deep hole on the ground to escape the sunlight.
It is my sweet self-indulgent thought that they like to nest. This is another part of the instincts they develop. However, nesting is dangerous because it makes them easy to find by other demons and demon’s slayers, so they can’t indulge in this particular craving.
blood is a conduit for memories. For that reason, over time, and after absorbing, devouring and consuming many humans, the Demons begin to have certain mixed memories of the lives they consumed, contributing to them forgetting who they are. Although this is not always the case.
Upper Moons are elite and highly respected for other lower ranked demons.
The more brutal and cruel a Demon is, the monstrous its appearance is. Generally, kinder, sharp-minded and clever demons find it easier to hold their human-like appearance.
They are all in truth, pretty miserable and most of the time they crave to create a deep bond with someone.
how would the upper moons react if they found out that muzan wants to eat their partner since they suddenly gained the ability to survive in the sun
Upper Moons finding out that Muzan wants to eat their s/o!
Just a side note i now write for metal family :)
Kokushibo
• Would be horribly alarmed
• wouldn't know what to do because of his loyalty to Muzan but also his loyalty to you as your boyfriend
• he'd be stunned knowing you could walk in the sun amd understand muzans interest in you but after a while of thought he'd hide you somewhere safe
• well he thought was safe
• He'd have to repeatedly find different places for you to hide as Muzan kept finding you so you'd be in a different place every day.
• he'd be suffering aswell at Muzans wrath but also his own inner conflict about where his loyalty actually lies
• Muzan would use threat after threat after threat and even physical things to get Kokushibo to tell him where you were but he wouldn't no matter what
• because his loyaltys lay with you.
Douma
Would make the people of his cult help hide you
He'd straight go to hide you because you are the only person who has shown him proper affection and he doesn't want that to go away
He would admire you and beg you to tell him how you managed to walk in the sun but would remind himself there were bigger matters to handle
No matter the torture he underwent by muzan and the others in the 12 kizuki he wasn't letting go of you
Would always make sure nobody was following him on his way to see you
After finding out that Muzan wants to eat you he would try and be his normal self whilst mentally shitting himself thst someone would find you
He would always have someone to protect you whether it was him or one of his followers
He'd give false locations of where he had 'seen' you last but always in the day knowing that Muzan can't go in daylight just like thr rest of them
He isn't giving up on you anytime soon
Akaza
He would refuse to harm you or let anyone else harm you so his first instinct was to go into hiding and not inform anyone at any point of where you two were
Avoiding Muzan like the plague
He'd be wary about going out and only going when you two got really hungry to get a human
He already lost Koyuki, he refuses to lose you to especially to Lord Muzan
You guys would go from one hiding spot to another every week to make sure there was no risk of him or any of the others finding you
PROTECT YOU WITH HIS LIFEEEE
This man loves you too much to let you go
Would absolutely fight anyone who tried to get to you at any point
Enmu
Literally got nothing to say for him I'm sorry lol
Would turn you in to Muzan no hesitation
His love for you may be strong but his dedication to Muzan and his weird little blood fetish is stronger
Bye bye to you
Daki
She'd be torn between giving you in to Muzan or hiding you
Her dedication to Muzan, like Enmu, is strong but she has to decide whether her love for you is stronger
Her internal debate drives Gyutaro CRAZY
Would be desperate for Muzans praise but also doesn't want to lose the feeling you give her and the affection you show her
She would half hide you half leave you alone whilst she made her decision
If she chose to hide you, she would have to flee the Entertainment district and not tell anyone where she was going
If she chose to turn you in she would probably have that on her conscience for the rest of her days until eventually slain
Gyutaro
First reaction would be to flat down refuse and not turn you in to Muzan
You were the first one apart from Daki who showed him the love he actually deserved, who made him feel worth it when he didn't himself.
Would probably force Daki to hide you for him against her wishes as she is loyal to Muzan
After separated from her, he would constantly be at your side and in the day Daki would force one of the girls from her house to be with you instead
He would make you go into different spots regularly to throw any other demons off of your trail in fear of someone finding you
Would be constantly paranoid about everyone and everything around you
10/10 would make you trail after Daki if for his sanity more than yours
- ☆ - a/n: my first commission! if you're interested, let me know :3 If desperate, depraved men make you horny then this is for you ♧
- ☆ - tags: fem!reader ♧ stalking ♧ dubious-consent ♧ degrading language mixed with praises ♧ lots of humping ♧ oral f.recieving ♧ blood consumption ♧ body worship ♧ inexperienced!gyutaro ♧ pussy drunk ♧ multiple orgasms ♧ obsessive behaviour ♧ some bodily harm ie. scratching, biting ♧ minor descriptions of reader but it's one or two that you can ignore ♧
It was you again, the one who sang in the late hours of the night. Shining beneath the twinkling lights that illuminate your balcony, the sound of your hums and incessant melodies you could half remember disturbing his peace. A nightly ritual that he first caught through the notes in the wind, a distinct sound above the bustle of the entertainment district flowing down from the upper class to the raunchy buildings he hulked on top of— a beckoning call that led him to you.
And what a pretty thing he discovered.
Gyutaro was quickly enthralled, stealing whatever moment he could away from his sister and tasks his master bestowed to be within a few distances of your presence.
Though you seemed odd to him at first, plump and pretty, yet incredibly odd.
You laughed loudly, cooed at the ugly cat that your mistress squealed to dispose of, and bundled your silks to donate them to the beggars— not even flinching when dirty hands held yours in gratitude. Gyutaro watched in astonishment, a contorted sort of envy choking him whenever you dismissed your mother when you shared your riches with the children that cowered in the alleys others turned their noses from.
Your kindness was equalled by your beauty. A dirty, disgusting revelation that made the demon scowl— yet slink closer to you to hear your giggles towards the deformed cat you cared for so delicately. You were peculiar that way to him— caring for ugly things, embracing your servants whenever they came home safely, especially the younger workers. You giggled, huffed and joked— your every thought reflected in your expressions, confident and bold.
Confident people made him itch. Hives prickled his flesh at the thought of them. Clawing at his chest whenever he caught the sight of a beaming smile, yours was somewhat different.
Your smile was warm, inviting, and kind— and Gyutaro wanted it directed at him.
The jealousy that slashed at his face was always momentarily forgotten whenever he heard your laugh. Heat burned, a sensation that made him whinge and hump the floor the first time it pooled in his belly. A rush of emotion that made him wither in agony— unfamiliar to the sensation between his legs, thoughts of you pouring into a frenzy after that first night he saw your naked body.
You were an addictive infatuation that stole the better part of his night, a feverish desire. His obsession maddening his senses with every night your songs called him— but Gyutaro had been careful so far, painstakingly wary whenever your gaze scrutinised the dark anytime the shadows shifted.
Though, it was never enough, he needed to be closer, feel your skin pressed against his— lay next to your body with your fingers tangled in his locks the way he imagined when he twisted in the nest of your belongings. Your favourite purple kimono warming his body the way blood did when it gushed down his throat— you were a new craving he was powerless to ignore, a yearning that pulled him to your balcony and rummaged your drawers whenever you left so he could steal a piece of you he wished to caress.
Rubbing his tongue on the fabric of your panties, savouring the wayward strands of your hair from your hairbrush, and peering into your bathing room to touch your most intimate things.
He couldn’t help himself; it was his favourite pastime, lurking around the corner of your mini hot springs, peaking at the droplets that rolled down your back into your ass. Watching you scrub your body and sink into the warm waters after a long day of whatever it was that made rich life difficult. Soaking your plump figure in essential oils that made his head swim, caressing the softness of your curves that drooled slick from his cock. It was your fault his dick hurt, your fault he had to relieve the burn with hard strokes on his hardened shaft, slicked with spit rather than your pussy— fucking the tight grip of his fist with his bottom lip clenched between his teeth. It was all your fault when he rolled his fist around the reddened tip to smooth the wetness along his length, thin veins pulsing for the contact of a wet cunt only to settle for his hand that could never mimic the suction of your pussy. It was worse whenever you moaned as if that didn't leak beads of cum from his tip, forcing him to hunch over to fuck his hand and end the torment of heated blood coursing through his veins.
He loathed it— yet loved you.
The spoiled life, the content sighs.
It was an odd contradiction Gyutaro did not pay too much attention to, lest it distracted him from you. He just— just needed to be in you. In your skin, in your flesh, inside your body. He needed to feel you. All of you. So much it had him drooling into your clothes as he fucked the plushy cushions of the pillows he stole from you.
Your scent was everywhere but inside him.
It drove him wild. Mad, unhinged enough to ignore a kill and follow you home instead, slashing any man that looked your way and causing a scene Daki had chastised him for.
It did not matter anymore.
Now finally, after weeks of sneaking and stalking, of humping and whining— he could not stand the distance between you anymore.
Tonight was going to be a special one as he watched you from afar yet again, crouching behind a roof bannister with the shadows cloaking him from your sight. Utterly oblivious to the stench of death and decay a few yards away— but how could you be when you spent your life sheathed in the warmth and comforts of wealth scented by florals? You had no idea of the scabs that melted flesh or the starvation that would force a person to rip the meat off their friend, only to coat their dry tongue with that moisture. With your easy smile that slanted too few frowns, you still lived above those lowly creatures that washed your clothes and bowed when you walked past.
A pretty princess sitting high on her pedestal; the sight of you twisted a thirst in his belly, and your scent— your sweet, lavender-like fragrance that masked your natural essence pulsing in your veins made him dizzy. Even your blood was high class. Clean, healthy. He could smell it from across the way— hear the rhythmic thump of your heartbeat when he closed his eyes and focused on your presence. You were delicious in every sense of the word— to consume you would appease the churning hunger most demons found insatiable— it would quench the bloodlust you triggered. Yet, you were still alive, singing your pretty songs no matter how many scars bled under his nails— because strangely enough, your death would only upset him.
To eat you would mean the end of your song— the demise of your smile— Gyutaro would never hear your laughter again. This nightly ritual of stalking your balcony would cease, and there would be nothing else to look forward to, nothing to heat the blood in his core. You were privileged, beautiful, and a creature he admired so much that the thought of killing you disappointed him.
You were too precious for death, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little taste.
“Pretty, pretty”, he sang, matching your melody, that familiar burn in his abdomen he recently discovered to be lust rising whenever he sat downwind from you— from the alluring scent that filled his core with hot blood, coursing down to his cock until it ached between his legs. A delicious ache that had him squirming, whinging into his fist to stave off the urge to devour you. To sink his teeth into that smooth, delectable-looking skin that made him scar his own, fuck, he could not sit there any longer.
But he had to wait, sit tight until all the lights went out and you were alone. Isolated, vulnerable.
For now, he merely listened to the song you hummed while brushing your hair, the afflictions in your tone hypnotising the demon that picked at his ears simply so he could hear you sing that much sweeter; as if he could not bear to miss a note of your song. “She's so close”, he murmured, feeling the pulse of his sex rub against his thigh. “Ne-need to-to—” He knew the word, knew the act and the mechanics of it, he watched women here work enough times to understand the basics— yet the thought of you writhing and moaning sent him into a rage, humping the thin cotton of his pants to imitate the sensations.
He laid his cheek against his arm, staring hungrily upon your little smile when you could glide your fingers smoothly through the strands, his crooked fingers mimicking the movement, imagining the softness that would brush along his marred skin. Envy curled a sneer until his flushed cock brushed along the rough panel of the roof a little too harshly, his hips unable to stop their thrusting as he watched you undress for the night.
“Fuck, fuck!”
Gyutaro felt hot, agitated— restless.
He was so— so close to you, but there was also a woman in the room setting your bed for the night and several lights flickering in the manor. He did not want to go through the trouble of spilling blood, creating a mess that would draw too much attention— he refused to see a tear on your cheek that he did not personally inflict. That meant patience and stealth until—
“Thank you, you can go now”.
Yes.
The woman smiled, bowed her head, and left the room. Taking the candle with her to illuminate her path down the hall— one by one, the other bedroom lights snuffed out, and the manor fell still for the night. Gyutaro waited, chewing on his bottom lip as the anticipation stirred. He listened closely, waiting for the whispers of the servants to dissipate in the walls until he made his move.
He stood and leapt across the roof, landing soundlessly on your balcony railing. Gyutaro hid his weapons, hunching his shoulders as he crawled to the doors, clicking them open, eyes glowing, smile leering.
Oh...
You were right there, nestled in your covers, breathing even and soundless, expression soft. Gyutaro could see you as clearly as if the moon shone directly on your delicate features, a dreamlike glow illustrated for him. For his eyes only. The same eyes that analysed you carefully as the demon crawled to your side, peering so close he could feel your gentle breaths part your lips and warm his face. He hummed, shuddering from the sensation. Your body was warm— emitting a heat that welcomed him, coercing him to finally have his touch.
His first touch.
The demon raised his hand, crooked fingers twitching mid-air, nervousness swallowing his breaths, inching closer and closer until a crooked finger pressed on your cheek.
Gyutaro moaned a throaty sound that slinked his body on top of yours, hunching and hovering above your sleeping figure— careful not to disturb you as he palmed your cheek with a tenderness he didn’t know he could express to a human.
“I’m touching her”, he gasped, sighs of wonder fanning your face, “she’s so soft”.
His entire palm engulfed your cheek, claws gently grazing your hair as he shook to keep himself steady and not fall on you from sheer excitement. It was as if the contact shot kindles of pleasure through him, tingling his body with sensations that had him keening— desperate to feel more. So he peeled back your covers, exposing you to his hunger-blazed eyes and the grin that stretched his face, your pretty figure vulnerable and at his mercy.
Finally...
Quitely and ever so carefully, Gyutaro lowered himself down on top of you— gangly limbs outstretched and smothering your body, his erection pressing on your belly as he settled his weight on you. “ohh”, he mewled, nestling his nose into your soft hair, “so warm”.
For one blissful, serene moment, Gyutaro was embraced, and it felt safe.
“AHH—”
He stifled your scream with a rough hand, shushing you by squeezing your face painfully and stilling your thrashing limbs with his superior strength. “Don’t scream, I— ohhh, wow, ahhh- that’s so nice”, he grunted, cock jerking from the friction.
You fought against him in your panic, panting and withering in a pitiful attempt to free yourself from his grip but only managing to make him moan — rashly pushing your thighs between his legs and accidentally rubbing against the heated bulge that had him thrusting his hips into you. “fe-feels good, pretty”, he panted, rolling his hips in time with your thrashing, “keep- yeah, ohhh, ohh, fu-uck, ple-please don’t stop”. His grip flexed over your mouth, masking the shouts as he humped you roughly with his pants scratching against your naked skin. His strength was too much for your human body, even when his bony hips pressed into your plushy curves— the softness was too arousing to stop. “‘m sorry, so-so sorry- It’s not my fault”, Gyutaro lied through clenched teeth, his smirk too wide as he attempted to calm you, “shh, don’t-don’t cry, nghh- you make my- ahh, ahh- my cock feel s-so good, I-I can’t help it”.
Gyutaro's movements were clumsy, only chasing the contact of your bare thighs withering into his fat bulge, the softness better than the pillows he fucked in the dark. But it was okay— he didn’t need them anymore, never again— you were here now, crying and pulsing with hot blood he could feel through the loose garment of his pants— sweat beading on his brow from the contact of your body flush against his. You were better than anything he had ever imagined— you touched him, excited him— all those nights of watching you sleep as he fucked his fist over your face were nothing compared to your pillowy thighs squishing on his shaft. Even with his pants in the way, the friction was too delicious to stop, blindly rutting into your body as you fought for control against a demon that was helpless against his own desires.
To him, you made the sweetest sounds. Intangible noises puffed while you fought against the creature crushing you. “You make my dick feel so good”, he whined loudly, “imma put it in you later— it’ll feel so good inside, but jus’ wanna feel you now, jus’ a bit”. Gyutaro cried your name through his groans, revelling in your choked sobs that smeared his palm, inhaling the aromatic scent of your fear.
You heaved, shoved and bucked your hips into him, unintentionally driving the demon to mutter profanities and desperate noises as he quickly neared a depraved release he could not control. Not when your tits pushed on his chest like that— not when your soft thighs squished on his sex, and you gazed at him with wide, glistening eyes watching him use your body for his own pleasure. His satisfaction, his fulfilment. A selfish, perverse desire that dribbled from his tip and dampened his pants so much you could feel the slick rub on your thighs.
“You feel so-so warm”, he groaned, humping your sweet body frantically, “can’t wa-wait to fu-uuck you, pretty girl. Bet you so wet and hot, hot-hot— ahh, yes, touch me! Right th-there, jus’ like that! You make my-my dick hurt, pretty. You’re so-soo pretty”.
Gyutaro trembled, cock heavy, wet and incredibly sensitive. You only stimulated it further with your jerks, muffled pleas drowning as he salivated above you— eyes wild with lust, his hips reflected in their frantic jerks. “Cum, cum, cum!” He squealed, hunching over you as he fucked your thighs. His belly fluttered, “I’mma cum! Ohh, ple-ee lemme cum on you”. Hard strokes on your thighs had him whining on top of you, rubbing his cock until it hurt— until his back arched, his teeth clenched in his jaw, and ropes of milky cum spilled from his flushed tip.
“ahh, fuck— no, no!” He cried, trembling through his pathetic orgasm as threads of cum splatter all over his pants, “No! sh-hit, ple-no! No!” Gyutaro rocked into you desperately, shaking through an orgasm that ruined his lap and warmed your thighs, a pitiful sight as he blubbered dejectedly, “I rui-ruined it— stupid- stupid! Wanted to cum on your pretty thighs, shit-shit-shit!” He panted through clenched teeth, shame curling from the sticky residue coating his dick that already began to cool— taking a moment to calm his erratic palpitations before yellow eyes fixated down at you with a smile that made your belly flutter.
“hush, hush”, he purred, rolling his hips into your body lazily, “I’m not gon’ hurt you, precious. Relax”.
He held you down tighter, pressing sloppy kisses along your neck in his attempt to calm you— but really, it was a selfish indulgence to kiss you. Though his kisses were messy, wet pecks of his lips across the expanse of your neck and shoulder, whispering endearing praises as he pressed you into the mattress, until eventually, your struggles ceased.
Gyutaro paused, lifting his head to see the fight leave your eyes, chest heaving from the effort of your pathetic struggle. For a moment, the two of you only stared, laboured breathing shared between you as he lay an inch from your face. He noted every twitch and form of your expression— a mixture of dread and something close to curiosity gaping back at him, drowning in the amber of his eyes as you wondered about the creature looming over you with sticky cum coated between you.
But you weren’t disgusted, not in any way Gyutaro could sense.
You were frightened, rightfully so, confused, naturally, violated, of course— but not revolted. Not outraged or sickened. You seemed... perplexed. Horrified yet fascinated, your heart thumping so loudly he could feel it against his chest.
That was uncommon for him— you were being odd again.
Gyutaro peered at you a little longer, sliding his sharp eyes over you— and then he released you— swiftly crawling back away from your bed to stare at you from the corner in the familiarity of the shadows, curiously peering through the dark where it was safe, away from you. And to his wonderment, you didn’t scream again— you sat up and stared.
Neither of you said a word.
The air was stilted, the manor was noiseless, and the room was deathly sombre. You didn’t scream, insult, or chastise his actions, something Gyutaro paid extra attention to, anxiously waiting for the crying and hurtful rejections he was used to— yet none came.
This silence was unnatural. It unsettled him and created an awful pit in his stomach; it made his cock ache. Gyutaro held his breath, listening to the thud of your heartbeat for any indication of your next move, only for you to ask in a soft voice;
“Are you the one who has been following me?”
Gyutaro nodded, albeit taken aback by your calmness, while he shuffled in his soiled pants, “You- you noticed?”
“Not at first”, you whisper, fixating on the glow of his mix-matched coloured eyes and the recognition of their intensity. “But I could hear you sometimes when I was alone”.
“Humans usually can’t tell”.
You fidgeted with the wet patch that seeped on your nightgown, “I...had a feeling”, you say, oddly calm, “I could feel it most nights, like tonight”.
“What kind of feeling?” His voice was breathless, eager— you thought about him too, noticed him in the dark? Anticipated his arrival? He pressed you for answers, “When?”
You flinched, “I-I don’t know. Like, a cold shadow on my back. The smell of blood, but—”
“But what?”
“It— you—” With a stabilising breath, you answered honestly, “You felt sad kind of. It was a lonely feeling, a miserable one, stuck to my shadow. As if— as if I was dragging it everywhere. At first, I thought I was imagining it— but then, I saw you”.
His breath hitched, a sort of anxiety mixed with shame.
“I saw you, at the hot springs— I thought I heard something in pain, like a cat or something. So when I went to check, you were there hunched over and fidgeting. I thought you were hurt, but then you made a noise”. Your face flushed from the memory, “I ran back to the bath, I don’t think you noticed— you were…preoccupied. But ever since then, I noticed the smell would be in my room, and my stuff would go missing”.
Gyutaro chuckled nervously, clawing at his cheek in embarrassment, unaware of how the skin tared and bled until he saw you cringe when the flesh hung from his face in red streaks. He stopped. His face healed rapidly, your eyes widening as you watched the tissue repair itself so efficiently.
“What are you?”
He shook his head, “You’d scream if I told you”.
“I haven’t screamed yet”, you answer plainly, which was true— you hadn’t so much as demanded he leave or even cried about his dirty humping— so when he confessed what he was, the word demon thickened the tension, and your heart skipped a beat.
“Oh…”
You stare even longer this time. Analysing the demon through the darkness it slinked into to avoid the scrutiny, the undivided attention of your stare made Gyutaro squirm. No one has ever looked at him this long without a word.
Gyutaro could feel your gaze run across his body— so in a moment of bravery, he stood tall— using his power to flicker the candle on your nightstand, allowing the fiery shadows to dance across his form for your viewing pleasure, and though his shoulders hunched the way they usually did, he was still a hulking monster. A powerful one, emitting the aura of his might and blinking at the way you shuddered from it.
He was grotesque, strong, beastly— and you still stared. Silent.
A demon with glowing eyes, blemished skin and rippled muscle that disappeared past his broad chest. The rest of him was gangly, wretched, with protruding hips and sagging clothes.
You still had not said a word, wide-eyed and clutching on your covers, the scent of disgust non-existent, or at the very least smothered by the overwhelming fear that made his cock weep.
Gyutaro whimpered. He could hear how your heart stuttered as you raked your eyes over his body, unintentionally searing him with the memories of cruel words and prickling feelings of inadequacy of another woman's judgement— pulling him out of the comfort of your scent and into the jeering ghosts of dead hecklers. He didn’t like the attention, the way your gaze wandered without disdain or horror— it was too exposing, intimate.
Panic began to rise, a jittery sort of alarm that brimmed heavy tears filled with murderous rage— a violence plagued by old wounds no amount of demon blood could heal. He was despicable, disfigured— dirty. Gyutaro sobbed, sinking into his knees when the shame overpowered his fury.
“Don’t look at me!” he cried, startling you. He did not deserve to be looked at, not with your pretty eyes. Gyutaro cowered behind his hands, nonsense whines of his insecurities coming out in high-pitch cries as he wrecked his face bloody.
He had to fix it, destroy it— mutilate and disfigure it.
Claws hacked off the skin that made him seethe. His flesh peeled in sickening squelches, “Don’t lo-look! Don’t look!” He sobbed, tears and blood blotching his face, pouring out of his wounds and staining the wooden floors of your bedroom as he crouched into a pathetic fetal position— unaware of how you scruffled out of covers and inched towards him.
“Ugly! Dis-disgusting! Ugly, ugly!”
He was pitiful, hideous— blood streamed down his cheeks as he slashed, ripped and mauled his skin, “need-need to-to fix it!”.
“no, no, don’t cry— stop hurting yourself”, you whispered in what you hoped sounded comforting, cringing as you patted his head awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to stare”.
Gyutaro snatched your hand, your shout being ignored as he cradled his bloodied face with your warmth, using your hand to comfort himself the way you so foolishly offered to the crying demon. He babbled and sobbed into your palm, pressing kisses that were more tongue than lips. This felt right. You were holding him, consoling him— worrying about him. You were warm, and you shared it with him.
Gyutaro calmed instantly. His skin repaired rapidly again, the torn flesh dissolving from the floor, but not before your hand was coloured in his sticky blood. You flinched and squirmed in his hold, but not enough to fight back or free yourself from his grip. Instead, you hummed to him, doing your best to minimise the noise of the distressed demon snivelling in your hand.
“I-it’s okay, shhh”, you reassured him, heart in your throat, “d-don’t cry”.
The sobs eventually subside, hiccups softening as he licked your hand clean, murmuring apologies into your soft palm.
“I’m so’rry, im’m ‘orry”.
“shhh, there, there— you’re not, I meant—”, you sighed, struggling to find the words, “you just surprised me. I-I’ve never met anyone like you”.
“‘orry, ‘m sorry”, he sighs, pressing another kiss to your palm before releasing you, and then feeling a pang in his chest when you scruffle back to the comfort of your blankets at the other side of the room— away from his reach. Gyutaro simpered, lowering his arms and flexing his fists to mimic the warmth he lost.
When his sniffles seize— you find the strength to continue, “Why are you here?”
“I wanted to meet you”, he says, fiddling with his dirty pants sadly.
“Okay…”, your eyes darted towards the door, “you met me, c-can I leave?”
His head tilted to the side, brows furrowed as he considered your words curiously— as if he was unable to understand why you would want to leave. Seconds ticked past, indicated by the slow drip of the candle that glowed your face in a pretty golden light before he snapped out of his daze, and his crooked smile tugged his lips.
“No, no you can’t”.
“Why not?”
“Because— because you belong to me now”, he said sweetly, as sweet as a rasp could sound, “I’ll keep you safe, don’t worry”.
“What’s your name?” you ask tentatively after a beat.
He pauses momentarily, eyeing you carefully before responding, “Gyutaro”. He tries not to shudder when you whisper his name back to him— he’s never heard it said so delicately before. As if you breathed life into it.
“How-how old are you?”
He blinks at the question, then eventually shrugs, “stopped counting— only notice the bodies now”.
“...Bodies?”
“The ones I eat”, he said with a giggle, scratching his cheek again.
“Are—”, your breath hitched, trying to force the words out, “are you go-ing to kill m-me?”
His laughter startled you, a high staccato flutter that started from his throat and stretched his grin, “No, no, silly! I jus’ wan’to taste you”.
“Taste?” You squeaked, shuffling away from his reach and banging against the wall.
He nodded, curls bouncing in excitement when your eyes dilated. “Your skin, your legs— the tasty smell right there”, he pointed between your thighs. “Wan’ to taste it all”.
“Why?”
He frowned, “why? cause you smell nice”, he answered as if that was the most ridiculous question he had ever heard. “Cause you’re pretty”.
“And that’s-that’s why you’ve been following me?”
He nodded, his smile somewhat endearing, “I’ve never met anyone so pretty before”.
Your heart stuttered again, making him smile that much wider as he watched you curl your knees up to your chest protectively. “Thank you”, the words come out in a soft breath, startling even yourself as the emotions flicker in your eyes.
Dread, apprehension, exhilaration.
Gyutaro slinked towards you, the flutter of your heartbeat calling to him as he inched closer and closer until he lay at your feet, peering up at you with glowing eyes. “Can I have my taste now?”
You gawked at him, “you’re asking me?”
“It won’t hurt”, he pleaded, big eyes shining, “I promise”.
“B-but…you eat people?”
“Yes”.
“An-and you’ll eat me?”
“No, no—” he shook his head fiercely, a conviction as strong as any other, “I would never, not you. Promise ”.
“Why?” the apprehension twists, reflecting in your voice, “I don’t understand, you want to taste me— you’re a demon, an-and you eat other people— I—” You huff, tears beading as the fear palpitates in your chest, “You’re asking me such-such a thing—”
“I said I wouldn’t!” He scowled, gripping your leg to keep you close when you tried to flee, ignoring your wince when his hold clenched tight. “I’ll take it—” he hissed, “I’ll rip your dress an-an’— shi-hit !” The words failed him, frustrations seeping with the idle chatter when the scent of you was clinging to his skin.
“And fuck me?” He nodded eagerly. It was crude; the word felt dirty and foreign on your tongue, rising bile up your throat— yet it excited you. A dirty, shameful thrill Gyutaro could hear with your every breath as the demon yelped and moaned, licking the exposed skin of your leg, long tongue trailing slick up your flesh until he reached the hem of your nightie. He could smell it now, the wetness that made your thighs clench and allowed him to lick the smooth skin of your inner thigh, strings of saliva coating the plushy fat as his head disappeared under the dress.
“Stop, now ”.
You watched him cry again from the rejection, a desperate sound coming from the most unlikely creature as he parted your shaky legs wider and settled between them, the addictive scent of your pussy luring him to push further. Gyutaro could see how you wanted to deny him— when you shrank from his touch and glanced wistfully towards the door. Yet you sunk into the mattress anyway, weakly nudging at his shoulders as if that would stop his advancement. Mumbling no's and please's that sounded weaker than the soft breeze from the window. He purred from the revelation— you liked it. Your halfhearted protests, your gasped sighs, and your twitches were telling enough. You wanted this, wanted him.
Though, your rejections still swelled his cock, a degrading attraction making him feel small in front of you despite the power imbalance— blindingly seeking your approval when he knew he had the strength to crush you. It was rousing; you truly were precious.
“Stop”.
“No”. He sounded firmer, authoritative, sure of himself now that Gyutaro knew how much you liked it when he pressed his tongue on your clothed cunt.
“I’ll scream”, you eye him carefully, tensing your thighs against his head when his nose bumps against your clit, “I-I’ll call for help”.
“I’ll rip your throat”, he murmured, busying himself with the panties obscuring his prize, fingers digging painfully into your legs to keep them steady as he ripped the fabric with his teeth. “I’ll kill anyone that walks through that door”. Gyutaro inhaled the tattered cloth, groaning loud as you watched him tongue the wet stain that held your pussy seconds ago. “ Fuck, mmm— I can hear them all in their rooms. I can hear your mistress with the cook”. His eyes gleamed, “Can we make that noise too?”
You squirmed, confused with his calmness when he spent the majority of the night crying and whinging. “Then why ask me?”
He shrugged, pocketing your panties as he struggled to find the words. “You make me sickish—” he confessed awkwardly, his scratchy voice contradicting the timidity of his words. “You look at me, an’ I hate it, an’ I wan’ you to never stop. You’re so pretty an’ you look at me”, he breathed, “It makes me crazy, makes me wanna eat you, breathe you in, be inside you. Wan’ to have you on me, all over. You smell so fuckin’ good it makes me dizzy. I-I can’t think with you. I wan’to take and hurt and fuck, but make you look at me. Say yes to me, jus’ once. I-I wan’ you to feel me”.
The words were lost to you. Gyutaro palmed his erection as he gauged your reaction, nervousness and lust buzzing in his core as he stroked his hardened shaft through his wet pants. Your chest heaved, tits bouncing with your heavy breaths, eyes wide, and mouth parted into a small o he imagined spreading with his cock. You were staring again, thighs open and fingers clenching the covers with the demon looming above. Gyutaro shivered at the sight of you. You were a dream, and you were looking at him, just like he wanted.
“You make me so hard, pretty”, he sighed, when you said nothing, “an’ ’m gon’ fuck you, ‘kay? ‘it’s gonna feel good, or not, I dunno, we'll try together”. Gyutaro crouched back between your thighs, taking the time to caress every inch of your skin with his tongue, wet kisses shining where his lips touched. Up your feet— your calf, to your knee, and then switch to give your other leg the same attention. His lips were chapped, feeling rough against you, but even with his strength, Gyutaro held you delicately. Like a precious doll— all his and at his mercy.
You were stunned, terrified and captivated by him— sighing while bucking your hips whenever his erection pressed against you, gasping when his hands gripped your hips with the claws piercing your flesh. It was a dance of control— Gyutaro’s gentleness not to break you and your heated attraction to the demon that moaned from your touch. It was exhilarating for you both, a charged tension neither of you could deny. Though Gyutaro was not denying anything, he knew what he wanted— what he hungered for, and it coursed through your body with a melodic beat.
“Will it hurt?” the question escapes, wincing when his teeth nick your thigh.
“Do you wan’ it to?” His words were muffled, suckling on the trickling blood with pleasure building, “mmm, your blood’s’so good ”. He needed more.
Gyutaro didn’t hear your response, not when he clamped his jaws into your flesh unexpectedly, smothering your scream with his other hand as he swallowed the rush of blood that poured from the wound— Gyutaro moaned deeply, eyes rolling as the hot liquid burned his throat. It was bliss, an ecstasy better than any substance as it flowed into his veins, pumping into every muscle and tendon and feeling it fuel his power. His pleasured mewls tugged you closer, lost in the cadence of your pulse beneath his fingertips.
“Delicious”, he cooed, lips stained red. Gyutaro flickered his tongue against the wound, shivering from your croaks of pain as he pinned you down to have his fill. Holding you tight, drinking in your essence and allowing it to warm his belly in all the ways the demon dreamt as you twitched beneath him, clenching on the sheets as you cried under his palm— until a warm rush of euphoria tingled your body as his saliva healed the torn skin.
Your body melted into the bedding, a low hum purring from your throat as the pain softened into a dull throb infusing you with a warmth that misted your vision— throwing the room into a spin. It became hard to decipher anything past the gentle kisses he pressed into the healing wound.
Gyutaro smirked, watching your eyes roll in bliss as his tongue smoothed the teeth’ indents— only pierced your thigh enough for the blood to freely seep for him to have his fill. And as the saliva did its work— he pressed his face into your pussy, inhaling deeply, releasing your mouth to grip your hips and squeeze the supple curves in his greedy hands. “fuck, you’re like a dream”, his husky groans pulsated against your sex— a sound infused with the urges that made his promises come out hoarse as Gyutaro swore to take care of you. To make you feel good— that a pretty girl like you deserved the world, and he intended to give it to you. All breathed into your bare cunt that drooled on his tongue, hungrily licking your wet folds.
“G-gyutaro?”
He keened at the sound of your voice like a cat seeking affection, “say my name again”, he pleaded, teasing your pussy lips with idle strokes of his tongue. Savouring the taste as if it were an exquisite meal.
Your fingers tangled in his locks, tugging and twisting his head up from your thighs, listening to his mewls from the discomfort as you seized control over your trembles. Doing your best to not succumb to his coercive touches despite the drunken fog his healing gave you. Every kiss and caress tingled through your core, shallow breaths indicating how your fear began to dissipate as the fascinations kindled, especially when he cooed praises into your cunt.
“Gyutaro”, you whispered delicately, “Use your words, tell me what you want?”
“Your pussy”, he panted, swiping his bottom lip of your blood, “your ass too”.
“Have you ever—”
“No, no— but you jus’-”, Gyutaro sighed heavily, fidgeting with the nestle of blankets rubbing on his clothed dick as your hot blood rushed to his core. “I can’t help it. You tasted delicious, better than anythin’. You’re so close, an’ I can hear your blood, the pulse on your pussy. She's calling to me. I can hear it, smell how wet you are”. His desperation cracked his voice, “I wan’ to taste more— so so bad. I’ll use my tongue on you, make it good, fuck you nice”.
You swallow your nerves, a sick smile twitching at the sight of him, “what if I say no?” He freezes, and you clench your grip on his hair and yank him up to meet your eye, “what if I tell you to leave?”
Fuck, his cock throbbed when you pulled his hair, “I’ll take you with me”, he rasped, “I wan’ be good for you, but I’ll take it. Make it hurt so good no one will touch you again. Ruin you. Wreck you,” he smiled sinfully, flashing his teeth, “have you ever been fucked?”
What a dirty question that came from the cruellest eyes brimmed with tears— it made him look pitifully adorable. He was ugly, disfigured and murderous, and Gyutaro still sighed and kissed your leg, waiting for your answer.
“No”.
“No you’ve never been fucked”, his claws dug painfully into your skin, “or no I can’t taste your pussy?”
“No”.
Gyutaro shuddered, “my cock hurts whenever you say no”. He leered, “wanna feel it?”.
“...No”.
He smirked, moaning softly for you, “you’re dirty too”, a statement that had you twisting his hair again to make him yelp. Gyutaro snickered. You were intoxicating— more than he could have hoped. “do’ya like it when I say that? That I watch you bathe and touch my cock thinkin’ of you?” He tilted his head, "Is that why you haven’t called for help?” You said no again, though it was a much more breathy sound as if the lie could not form quick enough. Gyutaro giggled over your blush, “pretty girl is nasty”, he sang merrily, “pretty girl wants to be fucked by a demon”. His laughter grew, bold enough to run his hands over your belly, following up to your tits, calloused fingers stroking the soft breasts as he marvelled at how you shivered from his touch.
“Is that what you want?” He mused, practically vibrating from glee as he groped you, “to be fucked? I know y’like when I touch you”, crooked fingers rubbed on your nipples, relishing in your gasps as he kneaded your tits like a depraved teen. “I can smell it. Your heart does a lil’ pat pat when I get closer. Ahh-haha”, he crooned, grinding his bulge against your leg only so he could hear you prove his point. “See? Nasty girl likes it, wan’ me to fuck you. Fuck you hard, mm? y’like it hard? When it hurts an’ makes your legs shake? I see other girls cry from it, but you’re prettier than the other girls. Your crying would be beautiful. But I’ll try to be gentle”, he smirked, relishing in your drumming heartbeat over his nasty words, confidence building with every pinch of your soft tits. “I never fucked anyone before”, he says with a faux sigh, crooked teeth peaking from the smile, “but I heard men talk about it before, how to make a pussy wet”, His eyes glowed tauntingly, “I did that, I made you wet”. Gyutaro sniggered playfully, a wicked gleam replacing the tears that shined in his eyes earlier, a dark contrast that made you wince much to his delight. “that’s dirty, princess”.
“No, I—”
He shushed you gently anyway, patting your cheek and coercing your grip off his hair— then yanked you harshly towards him, “I wish you could smell it, how delicious you are— feel how badly my cock hurts for you. No one's ever done that before, makes you special, princess”. He grinned sickeningly, looming over you, ignoring your huffs of protest that smacked at his chest as he ripped your nightie, “I heard that you like nice people, so I wanted to be nice, be good for you, try and make you happy”. Though the niceties were straining his patience. Gyutaro tore through your clothes until you lay beneath him, bare and vulnerable. The picture of all his desires. “I jus’ wan you, precious. I can't help myself anymore”.
Gyutaro didn’t wait for your answer this time; he hauled you up by your thighs and settled them on his shoulders— bending you in half with a strength you couldn’t fathom before his mouth captured your pussy. Licking and slurping on your cunt like a man starved— his smile pressing on your flesh as you jerked from the touch of his slinky tongue stroking your folds, gasping from the wetness that smeared your slit with his messy pussy eating. You moaned for him, the sound of it tingling his spine— Gyutaro ate your pussy feverishly just to hear that sound again. And you graced him with more.
“St-stop, ahh, st-ahh”.
He didn’t, knowing you did not mean a word of it and not caring about your objections anyway. Instead, Gyutaro grew wilder— rutting his tongue all over your cunt with skills he didn’t possess, only grunting, rubbing and flicking the hot muscle on your outer lips. Suckling on your clit. The taste of your pussy elicited his own little mewls that vibrated against your skin and had you trembling— gripping the sheets below you as you struggled to swallow the shameful moans the demon coerced with his sharp tongue.
“Gyu! ple- you-you can’t”, your moans choked like the lies they were, pleading him to stop and slow down when your cunt betrayed you by staining his mouth with sticky fluids. But you couldn't like it, he was— “You’re—”. You couldn't finish a word or even a thought without a little whine stumbling.
Gyutaro ravished you, sharp teeth scraping against you accidentally until it leaked tiny trickles of blood, mixing with the fluids that seeped from your cunt— creating a dick jerking mixture that heated his core. His eyes rolled as he slathered it on his tongue, drinking it all in with your soundless gasps. Gyutaro couldn’t focus past your cunt, not when the smell wafted through him— arousal humming into his abdomen and churning lust straight down to his neglected cock drooling into his pants.
“st-ahh, hur-hurts! Gyu!”
He only nodded in acknowledgement— flattening his tongue and massaging broad strokes on your puffy folds to heal the cuts. “A lil’ salty”, he muttered into your wet lips, “but sweet”. He licked your pussy again, humming to himself cheerfully. “y’taste good, pretty. Like a treat all for’me”, Gyutaro slurped loudly, devouring your cunt with his whole face, jutting his chin into your hole, bumping his nose into your clit, his cheeks glistening with the mess you soaked on his face as he ate like a starved mutt— groaning into your cunt as if it were the only meal to ever coat his tongue.
“Ohh, fu-uck, yes! ple-ease, gyu- ahh, ahh”, you cried, babbles of his name mixed with your mewls. A melody better than any song— any sound, only slightly louder than his guttural moans. Especially with the tiny beads of blood dribbling wherever his teeth pierced your flesh, only for him to kiss it better, swallowing the hot liquid and healing you rapidly with his saliva. Pain and pleasure moulding into one, keeping you steady by holding your ass— rubbing your pudgy cheeks appreciatively, the fat filling his palms in big handfuls.
You squirmed, rocked and sighed as a coil tightened in your belly— a sensation too intense you attempted to cinch your thighs to run from it, but Gyutaro squeezed your ass and pulled you deeper into his face. Your pleas were ignored, and the coil pressed harder, tighter— “Gyu! Wa-wait!” It snapped and your orgasm surged.
“‘er so wet”, he rasped, murmuring praises as wetness splashed his tongue, slurping on your squirts of release, speaking directly into your pussy as if the flutters of your hole and spews of slick were answers to his jabbers. “‘ure beauti-ful. mmm, jus’ like that. s’good, good girl. makn’ a mess on me”. It was everything for him to touch you like this, and Gyutaro savoured every ounce of it, of your scent, blood and flesh as you panted. Exploring your hole, forcing his tongue inside a little just to see how tight you were— and when he felt the resistance— how your walls squeezed on the muscle, he almost came untouched. He pushed in deeper, pre-cum dripping from his flushed tip as he felt the tight rings of your pussy clamp on his tongue from the overstimulation. Shit.
“Turn ‘round”, Gyutaro demanded, putting you back down— breaths shallow, eyes wild and bloodshot, licking his lips watching you turn to your hands and knees on shaky limbs.
“W–what’re— Gyu! Oh, fu-ahh, not-not there! Tha-that’s dir-ohh, ple- such a goo’ boy. Fe-eels so good, hun”.
He tittered from the praise, burying his tongue into your ass with your fat cheeks spread— he licked, suckled and kissed, listening to your moans turn non-verbal. Gyutaro humped the sheets, chasing an orgasm that fluttered in his belly while gliding his tongue into your puckered hole, his cock jolting from the tightness squeezing on him. Your walls twitched as he fucked you with harshed thrusts of his tongue, pushing at your ass until your head fell into the pillows, smothering your helpless cries.
His suspicions were confirmed— your ass was tighter, but your pussy was wetter— warmer— and he needed both. He leaned back, and your gasps stifled when he flipped you effortlessly.
“‘m gonna fuck you now”, he rasped hungrily, his words not up for debate. Gyutaro watched you nod timidly, but there was nothing timid about that dazed look in your eye. You could tell how thick he was from the tent in the fabric, his length pushing against the cloth with a raunchy, wet stain revealing his desire. Desperate to be freed. Pretty doe eyes peered up at him as you squeezed your thighs, shuffling to try and ease the tension in your achy cunt.
“c’mere”, you beckoned him with open arms, smiling as amber eyes glowed excitedly.
Gyutaro tugged off his pants hurriedly, his hunger for you blinding him as he scrambled to undress quickly enough. You said yes! He ripped the fabric in his haste, his cock jutting out and slapping him in the stomach as it stood full mast, tip flushed an angry red, thin veins trailing along his shaft and the left side decorated with the black marks adorning his chest down his body. His balls were round, heavy and hanging between his thighs— the crown of his cock was bulbous— the shaft more length than width. His cock had a more heated complexion than his chest, and he was pretty. The sight of him dried your throat, and Gyutaro did not feel self-conscious when your heart stuttered in excitement, the taste of your pussy still tingling on his lips.
“Please, please ask me”, he groaned as he palmed his erection with one hand, hooking your leg around his waist with the other— Gyutaro needed to hear you say it. His cock hurt— filled with the blood he drank from you, it was hot and achy, and it hurt. “Ask me to fuck you”. He could take you how he intended, but that pleading look in your eyes swayed him. He had to hear it from you.
“Gyutaro”, you purred his name, taking his hand off his cock and curling your fingers together as you pulled him down on top of you, “fuck me, please? I want you to”. You could see his adam's-apple bob nervously, a meek nod rustling his curls and tickling your cheeks as he settled his weight on top of you with your thighs cinched around his bony hips. “You were right”, you say, pushing his hair back from his face, taking note of every blemish and scar, glowing eyes and miserable expression— and smiling up at him anyway. “I liked it when you watched me”.
The admission caresses his lips, the softest breath of words blooming affection; he could only respond with a low whine. All rationale escapes when you smile at him. He kisses you. A messy, feverish touch of lips with his tongue slinking across the seam of your mouth until you part them for him to delve in. His kiss was sloppy, wet, and filled with the adoration that drove him to grind against you— breaking the kiss to cry out when his cock skimmed your cunt.
Gyutaro froze, breathless, cock weeping as it pressed between your folds, smearing his shaft with the sticky cum and saliva still coating your pussy. “Oh shit”, he shudders from the sensation— from your coy smile and the warmth that spreads as he ruts ever so slowly. As if he can’t quite make out what to do. Captivated by the touch of your wet slit smothering kisses on his long shaft. His sights locked on you, arms shaking as they grip your thighs, rocking back and forth with his mouth agape.
“Your pussy is so slippery”, he squeaks, it’s silky and soft. And the sound it makes when he slips his dick on your pussy lips over and over— is so lewd. A squelch of skin rubbing together, the thick crown of his cock grazing on your clit, trembling your tits as you gasp for him. Gyutaro stares in rapture, bucking his cock again to feel your nipples brush on his chest. “‘er so warm, ‘er pussy, uhh, so wet”, sticky strings glisten on his dick— deep groans tear out of his chest as his hips jerk against you desperately. Carelessly.
“Gyu- hun, not—”
“Ple-please”, he says, voice rugged and croaked, thrusting into your gooey slit frantically, “don’ ask me to stop”.
You sigh breathily, tugging on his shoulders and pulling him closer to your chest, desperate to feel his skin flush against yours. “No— harder”, you affirmed, “wan’ it harder, sweetie. Put it in”.
But he can’t, he doesn’t know how and the sensations are too much to stop. Something sensual— hot, flushes across his stomach. It’s hard and fast, and pulls his balls tight, quickening his pace. His muscles clench, his mind melting into a drunken haze of lust. You give him this soft, little gasp every time, as if every grind of Gyutaro’s hips stutters a delightful little surprise quivering heat in your core.
He looks down at you to find your eyes, lashes wet, lips parted and locked onto him. Your hands slide up to his chest, and your murmur something with the softest hint of desperation when you beg for more. Gyutaro opens his mouth, but only a huff slips out— his cock squishes on your puffy folds as he rubs and ruts and bucks on your pussy. “Fuck, uhh, ple-ease”, he babbles praises, rocking into you, faster and faster, the wet sheens of your skin splattering on his pubic hair— hastily humping and crying and cooing until splotches of creamy cum shoot out in thick gobs.
Gyutaro squeals on top of you, burying his face in your shoulder while you whisper reassurances, selfishly moving your hips to catch his blushed tip on your clit despite how he shakes through his release. Murmurs of good boy coax him out of the blissful dream— the one where he painted your pussy lips with his cum without even fucking you properly. It was wretched, and you still pressed kisses on his cheek.
“uhh, my cock still hurts”, he pouts, grinding his shaft harder into your cum soaked pussy, sloshes of white combining with your slick lewdly squelching between you. His cock was stiff and leaking more cum than ever despite the orgasms he spewed through the night— satisfaction not nearly enough when he hadn’t even fucked you yet, only festering a deep seeded arousal no amount of petting and humping could satiate. He needed to be in you, in your skin— in your pussy, feel your walls clasp his cock and pulse upon his veins. Gyutaro needed it so much his teeth cracked from the tension in his jaws as he struggled to thrust into your hole, his inexperience beading sweat and shame.
“Fuck! How- I can’t put it in”, Gyutaro wailed, palming your waist to hold you steady. His body nudges into yours clumsily, the fat head of his cock slipping past your hole every time he attempted to push inside. “It won’— ughh, it won’t go in!”
“Relax”, you pat his chest in an attempt to calm him— your words lost to him as he grows increasingly frustrated, gripping your waist too harshly you grimace when he pushes excessively roughly. “Gyu- wait, hun. Relax, no, not like that. Right here, wai-wait. Listen”.
He doesn’t. Gyutaro does not hear a word you say or bother to pay attention, entirely too raptured by the obscene sounds your bodies make as he ruts into you awkwardly— growling, huffing. “Go inside!! In-in-in!” He shouts with every thrust, “It won’- ahh, uhh-shiit”. Gyutaro sinks in with one hard stroke, and his eyes roll back from the tension that seizes his shaft, your pussy sucking him in, softening to the size of his thick cock. Spreading warmth as your tight walls quiver on his dick. “Fuu-uck, ‘er so hot, ahh-hahahaha”, he cackles to himself, a manic laughter that drowns the wild claps of wet skin slapping skin. Your own moans and sighs are saturated by his babbles that crack his voice through every other thrust.
“nghh-tight! ‘m fu-ucking you! ah-haha, sh-it, shit-shit! can’t stop, pretty! so’so warm, y’squeezing on my cock, ohh-uhh, ahh, yes! y’like it? ‘m fuckin’ you so-so good, mm? uhh-ahh, my dick feel good pretty? yeah? mm-hmm, pretty slut y’kno how to take dick, ahh-feels nice an’ big in ya’lil’ cunt. pussy so wet fo’me, she like it, yea? uhh-huh, she do- sss’uckin’ wet, nghh...Does-does it hurt? lemme make it hurt fo’you. make it hu-rt s’goo. jus like that, y’so pretty, takin’ my cock like this, cry fo’me. yea, yeah, cry-cry! Fuck-fuck-fuck! Imma-uhhh! Imma cum! Imma-‘mma cu-um!”
“Gyu—”
He seized your throat with both hands, capturing your breath and watching your eyes mist over with tears while he fucked you through his quick release. Howling as sprays of cum froth were your skins meet with every plunge. “Look at you”, he grunts, “so messy. Nasty girl”, his giggles wheeze when he plunges in deep into your spongy spot. Gyutaro barely slows down— rings of white smear his cock through his chaotic strokes into your cunt— he can only growl as your walls palpitate upon his shaft. Fumbling through a rhythm he can only hear in his head— yet every slam of his hips ruts his nestle of curls on your clit enough to make your chest heave. He doesn't note your anguished wheeze or the smacks you strike on his face to release his grip. Gyutaro stares at you with bloodshot eyes and drool hanging off his bottom lip burning a frightening leer that makes it known that he is a demon.
Selfish, powerful and rotten. Though a demon that cried for your touches, cooed about your beauty and kissed your soft skin throughout the night. Nonetheless, he was a demon too mesmerised by the heated arousal in his core and your blood warming his throat to care about your unfortunate lack of oxygen. He needed you still— his cock ached and twitched inside you. His mushroom tip pressed into your cervix like it was made for it. His balls slapped your ass with every thrust, yet they were still heavy— needy. Desperate to empty inside your warm cunt.
“‘mma break you, my lil’ cutie. make you full an’ round with my cum. fuck”, he growled, grin slanted. Ignoring your huffs to slow down when none of it mattered to him— especially not when he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, your body writhing as your cries gagged when he flexed his grip on your throat. Groaning brazenly, piercing your flesh, licking the bloodied skin and marking the other side with the same bites. You could feel his length stirring inside your silky walls from the visible evidence of his ownership— clamping more bites on your tits and collarbone, violent kisses that he admired by caressing his thumb on the indents of his love.
“y’like that? mmm, y’look so good fo’me, gon’ fill you with lots an’ lots of cum. ahh-uhhh, all-all leaky and wet- hahaha you cry so pretty. pretty girl cryn’ on my cock it makes me so-so hard. shit, make me cum again, shit-shit! y’feel so nice an’ hot on my cock. y’love my cock dontchya? nnggh- its why ‘ur makin’ su-such a dirty mess on me. nasty-na-asty girl, uhh-shit! do-don’ worry, I’ll cle-ean it up fo’ya. cause ya’my lil’ princess. mine-mine- mine!”
“oh, god”, you choke, black spots dancing across your vision, his voice far away as he rasps and snickers his dirty words, your body at the mercy of his pleasure with your lungs shrinking tight from every breath he denies you. Matching the brutality of his thrusts, delving in deep and stretching you wide, leaving a permanent imprint of his cock into your cushy walls. Bearing a cruel smirk as your mouth parts in horrid gasps, frantically holding onto consciousness while it continues to slip away— stutters of “oh god” are the only sounds you can manage beneath him.
Gyutaro snickers. “Nah”, he smirks, licking the tears off your cheeks, “is jus’ me, pretty. There is no god”.
Your pleas fall on deaf ears while the pain throbs in all the best ways— the pressure knotting in your belly soaking slick all over his cock, mixing with his gooey cum and foaming a sticky mixture that splashes in your cunt and smears all over his pubic bone. His thrusts jostle your body beneath his as sweat and cum cling you both together. You mutter his name incoherently, another orgasm building in your core, thighs shaking against his hips— strokes of his cock pushing deep in your belly in three thrusts until a voiceless scream rips from you and wet squirts gush on his dick.
“ahh-uhh, su-uch a dirty girl”, he purred, rocking with your trembling body from the intensity of your wet spurts splattering on his girth, “makin’ a big mess on me. ‘tis okay, y’did so-so well, s’goo fo’me. shhh”.
Your orgasm subsides, and the world around you darkens— limbs go lax and heavy, sinking into the blankets until his glowing eyes dim in their shine— shrouding in the darkness shading your vision.
“Princess?” He shook you gently, blinking away the fog, thrusts shallowing in their ferocity as Gyutaro took a moment to clearly look at you. And you looked stunning; the hair you spent earlier in the evening brushing coiled into a nest of tangles on your pillow, and your supple skin was now an ornamentation of his passions. With bruises, scrapes and teeth indents yet to fade. Red flecks of dried blood marred your thighs, clothes torn, lashes wet with tears— the sight of you was captivating, and Gyutaro finally released your throat.
You gag in heaps of air, splutters of coughs and spit choke from you as you struggle to find your breath, blackness fading into colours that bleed together, but the only thing you can register is yellow.
“c’mere, pretty girl”, Gyutaro pulls you into his strong arms and settles back on his heels, nestling your trembling body on his lap while brushing your tears away, “‘m so’rry for hurting you, princess”. Kisses flutter on your neck, licking the inflated skin as his way of apologising, allowing his healing to fade the dark colours into pretty shades he admired. Gyutaro hummed into your shoulder, idly bouncing you on his cock in slow glides as you catch your breath in his arms, “I couldn’ help myself, ‘m so sorry”. His kisses held the faintest imprint of a smirk, the apologies lacking sincerity despite how they caressed your heated skin.
“Did I hurt my girl?”
You nod timidly, curling your arms around his neck, deliriously seeking solace from the creature who caused your discomfort and leaning into his heated touch as he stroked your back in soothing circles. You shouldn't have, but you melted into it— into his kisses and his faux apologies, allowing him to lift you up and down his cock lazily. Taking the time to explore every column of your neck with his wet tongue. The new angle made your cunt hug every inch and ridge of his dick, greedily suckling on the sensitive flesh with his balls tight beneath your ass and a mess of combined frothy cum sticking on your laps.
“One more?” Gyutaro giggles when you shake your head, “yes you can”, he insists, pecking your cheeks with wet kisses, “yes you can, pretty. cum one more time fo’rme, yea? yes, my pretty, pretty girl with the pretty pussy. ya’pussy love me, I know she do, I know she wants one more”.
Your hair tickles his cheeks when you shake your head, hoarse objections triggering more of his giggles, “Gyu, no, please- ‘tis too much”. You shuffle closer, chests pressed, thighs resting around his hips, your own kisses fluttering on his jaw in sweet pecks as a way to entice him to let you sleep. To breathe. And though your bodies rock gently together, you can feel his rigid erection inside you, whereas the exhaustion exuded from your every pore. “Gyu, let’s rest, kay?” you tiredly murmur while you run your fingers through his curls, moaning through the jerks of your bodies with the stench of sweat and cum stirring in the air, yet none of it registers to him the way it does for you.
Gyutaro only hums, the pulse on his cock a restless arousal compared to the fatigue weighing on your eyelids— he moves you achingly slow. Canting his hips to eye how his thick shaft reappears coated in a warm layer of cum from the copious amounts he released into you, creating little bubbles at the base with every drag. As if he was savouring the touch of your pussy sliding up and down his length, basking in the comfort of your body curled into his. “Feel good, yea?” He chuckled airly.
“Yea”, you sigh sweetly, leaning into him, “all yours, Gyu”. The warmth you radiate seeps into his as you cuddle into his chest, kiss his face, tug on his hair and whisper his name in soft gaps. Unaware of how his smile faded.
Gyutaro stiffened, swallowing a nasty lump in his throat from the implication of your tender words. You held him, his sordid body with black marks and spindly limbs, you kissed him as if he were something precious to you, and the sentiment overwhelmed him. His obsession festering now the more your soft lips brushed along his scars. “You’re mine now, okay?” He growled into your neck, voice no more than a tortured husk, arms clenching tight around your waist, exhibiting the adamant force of his adoration. “I’ll come for you every night, kay? I’ll come for you and make you feel so-so good, princess. I'll protect you, listen”, he gruffed, pulling back to grip your chin, forcing you to see the dark devotion burning in his gaze when he said, “You’re mine”.
“Okay”, you mutter sleepily, the tenderness in your throat adding to the lightheaded weariness sinking your body, finally succumbing to the blood loss that twinkled spots you couldn't blink away.
Gyutaro growled, meanly squeezing your cheeks and forcing clarity in your haze to make you witness the sinister gravity of his affections. And when you looked at him, when you settled your misty eyes on him and smiled— it bloomed a warmth that made his chest ache. “Repeat after me”, he rasped, “I am yours”.
“I am yours”.
“And you’re mine”.
“And you’re mine”.
“Say it”.
You smile dreamily, tugging on his hair to make him slant his head down and graze your lips against his, “I am yours, and you’re mine”.
“Good girl”, Gyutaro caressed your face gently, sliding his fingers through your hair exactly how he imagined doing all those nights he spent watching you. And it was everything. This time, when he kissed you, it was the gentlest press upon your forehead. “C’mon, pretty girl”, he whispered, “one more”.
His snickers blocked your huffs as he bent you over with your thighs cinched to your chest, mounting you into a position you couldn’t wriggle yourself out of. “Sh-it”, was the only thing he could manage, cock plunging in your sopping cunt in fast succession, sinking into the warmth of your body as the heat glowed. His strangled moans trickle drool on your lips, pitiful gasps escaping with his heavy thrusts from the new angle. “All mine, yea? yeah you are, m’girl. my dirty girl so cock hungry”. Gyutaro gazed deep into your eyes, committing everything to memory. Your shudders, moans and cries of his name, how your eyes roll when he presses into your cervix, how your chest heaves when he brushes against your clit.
You truly were a dream, and as he pumped you full of his cock, your pussy spasming along his length, Gyutaro whispered praises. Low rasps of “pretty girl”, and “I’ll kill for you”, merge with your moans, creating a sensual melody echoed by the wet sounds of skin clapping together through his heavy thrusts.
“th-thats it, that’s my girl. so-so pretty. cummin’ all over me. so-so wet haha- ahh, fuck-fuck! ri-ight here, fuck you like this? y’like it? dick feel goo’, yea? I kno’ it do, y’squeezin’on me again, ‘er jus’ a dirty lil’ cunt, huh? Wan’ cock so-so bad, lettin’ a demon fuck you hahaha-ahh-fuck-fuck! feel so’goo’ ahh-shit! I can’ wait to see yo’again. fu-uuck, wait for me, pretty. I’ll take goo’ care of you. yea? y’like that? wan’ be all mine, huh. mmm-shit, tight! so-so tight, uhh-uhh, yes! yes-yes-yes!”
You nod through his babbles, answering him with yes and right there, lost in the fog of his arousal, you were almost drunk on it. Drunk on his strength, his affection, his cock pounding in and out of your soft cunt, balls slapping against your ass flaring heat in your core while praises stumbled, losing their coherency the harder Gyutaro fucked you until it all burst. Cum splashes out in wet squirts and spills in goopy sprays as you both moan through your combined orgasm, trembling together with him slumped on top of you— finally satiated.
His body melts into yours in bliss, panting widely, body heavy as he lay half on top of you, nuzzling his sweaty forehead into your hair with a delirious giggle.
“such a good girl”, he coos with a silly smile, gently easing out of your quivering pussy only for sloshes of mixed cum to ooze out of your cunt in thick glops. “Fuck, so-so dirty, we made a mess”, Gyutaro snickered as he fingered the white substance, mesmerised by the gooey essence coating your bodies, quietly watching you catch your breath for a moment longer. Safe and warm.
Soft breaths sound from you both, tangled in a mess of limbs, cum and sweat— the breeze from the open balcony does nothing to soothe the heat emitting from your bodies. Not after the events of the sordid night now only filled by deep huffs and quiet giggles between the sheets. Gyutaro curls into you from behind, holding you gently with his hands roaming your delicate curves, surrendering to his desires now that the fire in his core was finally sated. Kisses litter on your shoulders, his smile evident against your sweat-coated skin, whispers of praise lulling you into a peaceful slumber.
The silence stretches as the evening comes to an end, the streams of moonlight dimming through the sheer curtains showing the world that dawn was not far on the horizon. You hear him sigh, “I’ll be back, ‘kay?”
You can’t help but pout, fighting the sleep in your eyes to peer at him over your shoulder, “You’re leaving?”
“I’ll be back tonight, promise”, he declares, a crooked smirk peaking through as he stands, tugging on his torn pants, “you should take a long bath, though”.
You nod in response, watching his hulking frame disappear from your balcony, leaving you in the mess of putrid sex clinging to your skin. You huff a laugh he can hear through the wind, letting it carry his name with it as you hum to yourself a new song with the word Gyutaro flowing in the gentlest melody.
Another tune he admired in the late hours of the night, the promise of tomorrow heavy in the air as he slinked back into the shadows.
I just want you to know that the way you write the onis is amazing!! like, it's so well thought out that I can't describe what it's like, never knew i needed to read hcs of demons until i read them. With that being said, i hope you have an amazing day and that both sides of your pillow are cold
Glad you like my hc! If you're interested, I'm about to drop some one-shots for each demon at my AO3!
Hope both sides of your pillow are cold too, and the weather always matches your outfits! haha, have a good one!
snowghoul
titsay
yousharknotpass
