oneeyedmusings

It would certainly be... a tragedy.

[oneeyedmusings]

⋆⛧*┈┈┈┈﹤୨♡୧﹥ ┈┈┈┈*⛧⋆

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞.

✎ᝰ. This blog is dedicated to writing Kaneki x Reader.

⤷ Feel free to send in a request or just want to chat with me!

𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐌𝐞

Name: Rumi

Age: 25+

Pronouns: She/her

✑━━━━ 〔 Read before requesting 〕 〔 Masterlist 〕

⋆⛧*┈┈┈┈﹤୨♡୧﹥ ┈┈┈┈*⛧⋆

Requests: Open

[oneeyedmusings]

Could you please write headcanons for Yandere Black Reaper Kaneki SFW? Tokyo Ghoul was one of my favorite and the first anime I ever watched, and your writing is really great! You're truly talented 😭❤️! Also, I have a question I didn't see when reading the rules. What's the maximum number of requests we can send? Sorry, English isn't my native language, so I apologize if I made any mistakes while writing 😔🤍.

A/N: Hi! Thank you! Don't worry, your English is really good! I don't mind how many asks you send. Just keep in mind that I might not be able to answer all of them quickly, especially if I have other requests to get through.

〖 Yandere Black Reaper 〗

Black Reaper believes he is unlovable. Therefore, when you show romantic interest in him, his first instinct is cold rejection. He will try to insult you, give you deadpan stares, and act as abrasive as possible to make you leave.

Because you refuse to be scared off or insulted, his defensive wall eventually collapses. Pushing you away requires energy he simply doesn’t have. 

Don't expect poetry, sweet nicknames, or romantic dinners. Black Reaper’s version of romance looks like him sighing heavily, silently handing you a book he’s already read that you're curious about, or making your coffee exactly the way you like it while acting like the entire ordeal is an inconvenience.

He integrates himself into your life by refusing to go away once you've latched onto him. If you try to give him space because you think he wants it, he will actually get irritable.

Even when he's acting cold, he is hyper-aware of your safety and whereabouts. As a CCG investigator, his situational awareness is unnerving.

If you walk home late, he’s walking a block behind you, pretending he just happens to be going the same way. If someone looks at you wrong, they receive a dead, hollow stare that makes their blood run cold, causing them to turn around immediately.

Quality time with Black Reaper means sitting in absolute, crushing silence for three hours while he reads informational academic texts or reports, and you do your own thing.

If you try to talk too much, he’ll bluntly tell you to be quiet. But if you actually try to get up and leave, he will grab your wrist, his grip firm, and ask where you're going.

He won't initiate hugs or cuddling, but if you lean your head on his shoulder while he’s reading, he will freeze up, let out a long-suffering sigh, and eventually rest his head against yours. It’s his way of admitting defeat.

He spends half his time telling you how pointless it is to care about someone who is "already dead," yet he tracks your schedule and memorizes every little detail about you.

If you get sick, he takes a rare day off work, pretends he was forced to stay home, and silently sits by your bedside reading a book while shoving medicine and soup into your hands.

▶ Masterlist ◀

[oneeyedmusings]

You are a pokemon fan so have you ever heard of fnf mod called hypno lullaby esp the chimera one????

No, actually. I did watch a video about it a few minutes ago, though, and it looked pretty interesting.

[oneeyedmusings]

Hi, could you write an SFW and NSFW alphabet for Black Reaper Kaneki?

Hi, anon. Here they are. Sorry for taking so long on making them. I feel like I butchered Black Reaper so bad, though... I'm so sorry.

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet

[oneeyedmusings]

〖 NSFW Alphabet with Black Reaper 〗

NSFW alphabet template CW: Explicit sexual content, emotional abuse/toxic dynamics, psychological degradation, rough sex, suicidal ideation/death wish themes, bruising

A = Aftercare

Cold. The second it’s over, he rolls off, pulling his black dress shirt back on like he’s trying to put up a barricade between you both again. He leaves as soon as he can string a coherent sentence together, acting like the whole thing was an annoying chore.

B = Body Part

His own: Nothing in particular. He doesn't care about his body at all.

His partner's: Whatever part of you is currently bruised or pressed against him the hardest. He’ll grip your hips or thighs hard enough to leave dark marks.

C = Cum

He’s clinical about it. No mess, no lingering heat. He cleans up efficiently and makes sure you do too, treating his own body fluids like hazardous biological waste rather than anything intimate or shared.

D = Dirty Secret

He wants you to beg him to stay. He despises himself for it, but when he’s deep inside you and the world narrows down to just the two of you in the dark, a pathetic, buried part of him wishes you’d wrap your arms around his neck, press your face to his shoulder, and refuse to let him die.

E = Experience

Terrifyingly efficient. He’s read enough, lived through enough unimaginable agony, and analyzed human anatomy well enough to know exactly what buttons to push to make you come apart. But there’s no warmth to his technique—it’s precise, detached, and mechanical.

F = Favorite Position

Doggy style, or any position where he doesn't have to look at your face. If you're looking down at him, he can pretend you're just looking through him. Eye contact is forbidden. It forces him to realize he’s alive, breathing, and warm right next to someone who actually gives a damn about him.

G = Goofy

Utterly, suffocatingly serious. There is no laughter, no playful teasing, no smirks, and no breathing room. If you tried to lighten the mood, he’d probably stop dead, give you a dead-eyed, hollow stare, and ask if you're trying to ruin it on purpose. To him, sex is just a physical distraction.

H = Hair

His hair is completely unkempt because he doesn't care enough to take care of it anymore. The hair down below matches that same neglected state—a physical manifestation of a man who stopped maintaining his own life a long time ago.

I = Intimacy

There is zero romance. If he kisses you, it’s a bruise-inducing bite to your lower lip just hard enough to make you pull back with a gasp. He’ll call you pathetic for trying to find meaning or emotion in whatever the hell is going on between you two, but he’s the one gripping your waist so hard his fingers leave permanent impressions.

J = Jack Off

Rarely. When he does, it’s not out of pleasure; it’s a purely biological release when his body won't shut down and sleep escapes him. He doesn't use fantasies—he stares blankly at the wall, thinking about nothing at all, resenting his own flesh for demanding even basic maintenance.

K = Kink

Degradation and biting. He loves calling you stupid for caring about him, loves whispering cruel things into your ear while driving himself into you, waiting for you to cry or snap back. He wants you to fight him on it. He wants you to prove him wrong and yell at him, even though he’ll punish you for trying.

L = Location

His room in his apartment, or anywhere dark, hidden, and away from prying eyes where nobody can witness how human he actually lets himself get.

M = Motivation

Your sheer, agonizing stubbornness. The fact that he can treat you like absolute garbage, push you to your absolute emotional limits, and you still refuse to leave his side. It pisses him off, it confuses him, and worst of all, it makes him hard. He hates that you won’t just walk away like everyone else.

N = No

He won’t put up with anyone trying to "save" him or drowning him in sweet‑talk. Over‑affection, constant reassurance, or attempts to convince him he’s lovable are instantly brushed off.

O = Oral

Giving is transactional—he’ll do it because it shuts you up and makes you writhe, executing it with rough precision until you’re begging him to stop. As for receiving, that is a big no-no. Letting someone else focus on his pleasure feels far too vulnerable, too much like asking to be cared for, and he’d rather chew glass than let you dote on him like that.

P = Pace

Starts with a cold, detached slowness—barely‑there touches, keeping you at arm’s length. Eventually, he snaps into a brutal, fast‑paced storm, raw and unforgiving.

Q = Quickie

He prefers them when he’s drowning in work, treating it like a bad habit or an itch he needs to scratch so he can get back to his paperwork and his death wish. But you're the one who usually has to force the issue, because left to his own devices, he’d just work himself into a grave without ever touching you.

R = Risk

He takes psychological risks by constantly pushing the boundaries of how mean and cruel he can be before you finally snap and leave him alone for good. Physically, he’s recklessly careless—he doesn’t care if someone walks by, doesn’t care if he hurts you or himself, because deep down, he’s daring the world to finish him off.

S = Stamina

Ghoul biology means he can technically go all night, but his mental exhaustion usually cuts it short. Still, he can easily go for multiple grueling, relentless rounds, fueled entirely by spite and adrenaline.

T = Toy

None. Toys imply a desire to maximize pleasure, explore, or play, and he views sex as far too grim, desperate, and mechanical an act for props. The only thing he wants to use is the friction between you two—raw, real, and messy.

U = Unfair

He doesn't tease in a playful, flirtatious way. His version of teasing is looking you dead in the eye, telling you that you’re wasting your pathetic life on a walking corpse, and then sliding right back inside you while you’re stammering out a defense, using his body to forcefully override your words.

V = Volume

Almost dead silent, save for his heavy breathing and the wet friction of skin. He bites his lip or buries his face in your shoulder to choke back any noise. If he groans or gasps, it sounds like an involuntary betrayal of his own body, and he immediately tightens his jaw to seal it away.

W = Wild Card

Sometimes, in the middle of it all, when you grab his face and force him to look straight into your eyes, the real him flashes—the gentle, terrified Kaneki who just wants to love you leaks through the cold facade for half a second. He will immediately lash out, pull away violently, and act twice as cold for the next week because he panicked.

X = X-ray

Lean, corded muscle wrapped over a frame that’s covered in faint scars from past fights.

Y = Yearning

Low on paper, but volatile and explosive beneath the surface. He doesn't crave sex, per se; he craves the numbness that comes after it, the brief, quiet window where his brain stops screaming at him. Because you refuse to leave him alone, his body ends up reacting to your stubborn persistence whether his mind wants it to or not.

Z = Zzz

He doesn’t fall asleep quickly. He’ll lie on his back in silence, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything that just happened and wondering why you’re still here instead of leaving while you have the chance.

▶ Masterlist ◀

[oneeyedmusings]

〖 SFW Alphabet with Black Reaper 〗

SFW alphabet template

A = Affection

Black Reaper actively tries not to be. If he brushes a stray strand of hair out of your face, he’ll immediately pull his hand back as if he touched a hot stove, mutter something dismissive like, "Don't just stand there looking like a mess," and walk away.

But affection leaks out of him in spite of himself. It’s in the way he makes sure you’ve eaten before a long day, or how he positions his body between you and a potential threat without a word.

B = Best Friend

He would be the worst friend imaginable because he’d tell you to leave him alone every single day. The friendship would start because you simply refused to take a hint. He’d sit at a corner table, reading or staring blankly, and you’d pull up a chair, talk about absolute nonsense, and ignore his deadpan insults. Eventually, he’d stop telling you to go away because he’s too exhausted to fight you.

C = Cuddles

He claims he hates it and that it’s a waste of time. If you're stubborn enough to crawl into his space, he won’t push you off. He’ll go rigid as a board for about five minutes, staring at the ceiling, before his shoulders finally drop.

D = Domestic

Absolutely not. The thought of a domestic future with a house feels like a cruel joke to him, because he expects to be dead by sunrise. Despite that, he’s meticulously neat out of pure habit—everything in his living space is sparse, orderly, and sterile. He can cook simple, functional meals, but he treats eating purely as biological fuel rather than an experience to be enjoyed.

E = Ending

He wouldn't have a sit-down conversation. He'd just stop coming back. He'd leave a cold note, pack up his few belongings, and vanish into the CCG, convincing himself he’s doing you a massive favor by ripping the band-aid off. If you tried to chase him, he’d use his coldest, most cutting voice to tell you he never cared, desperately trying to make you hate him so it hurts less when he finally gets himself killed.

F = Fiance(e)

Commitment terrifies him, not because he doesn't care, but because he knows he has an expiration date. He will never, ever bring up marriage. If you push for it, he’ll look at you like you've lost your mind and ask why you’d want to tie yourself to someone who is actively rotting from the inside out.

G = Gentle

Physically, he has to be careful—as a ghoul, and a powerful one at that. He knows his own strength and what he's capable of doing to a human body. That underlying tension makes him stiff. Emotionally, he acts like a buzzsaw. He uses sharp words as a shield, slicing at you to keep you at a safe distance. But if you look past the blood and the blunt remarks, his touch when he's patching up a scrape is painfully gentle.

H = Hugs

He initiates hugs approximately zero times per year. If you ambush him with one, he freezes completely, arms pinned to his sides like a mannequin. If you hold on long enough, though—if you just refuse to let go—the tension will slowly bleed out of him. He’ll rest his chin on your shoulder, breathing out a slow, ragged sigh, letting himself be held.

I = I love you

Never. Not a chance in hell. Saying it aloud makes it real, and making it real means admitting he wants to live, which goes against every plan he has for his tragic, idealized demise. If you say it to him, he will look away, jaw tightening, and change the subject or tell you that you're an idiot. But his actions—the way he checks to make sure you're safe, the way he keeps you close even while telling you to leave—screams it constantly.

J = Jealousy

He’d never admit to it. If someone flirts with you or takes up too much of your time, he won’t throw a punch or make a scene. Instead, he’ll just withdraw even further, giving you a cold, dead look and telling you, "Go spend time with them, then. Why are you wasting it on me?"

It’s a mix of jealousy and self-loathing, convincing himself that you'd obviously be happier with someone normal.

K = Kisses

His kisses are dry, brief, and often taste like black coffee. He treats them like transactions he wants to get over with if you're in public, terrified of looking vulnerable. But in private, when the walls crack, his kisses turn slow, desperate, and lingering—like he's trying to memorize the feeling before he disappears. He doesn't care where you kiss him. Any contact is a shock to his system, though a soft press to his forehead or temple always makes him close his eyes a little longer.

L = Little ones

Awkward and deeply uncomfortable. He looks at children with sorrow and panic, reminded of everything he’s lost and everything he can never be. He’ll keep his distance, speaking in a stiff, clipped tone if a child approaches, entirely convinced that anyone he touches ends up ruined or dead.

M = Morning

Silent and grim. He’s usually awake before you, staring at the wall or already dressed in his black suit, looking like a ghost haunting his own apartment. If you try to talk to him over coffee, he’ll respond with grunts. He wants to slip out into the world and get his work done before you have a chance to anchor him down for the day.

N = Night

Usually, he can sleep just fine. But when he can't, he sits at the edge of the bed in the dark, staring at his hands. If you wake up and pull him back down against the mattress, he won't fight you—he'll just bury his face in your neck, letting your pulse remind him he's still breathing.

O = Open

Every single detail about his past, his pain, or his true feelings has to be dragged out of him against his will. He will never volunteer information. He prefers to keep himself an impenetrable fortress of sarcasm and blank stares, because the moment you truly know him is the moment you have leverage to make him want to stay alive.

P = Patience

With strangers or the CCG, he has little to no patience. He'll dismiss them politely, but there's always a cold edge to his tone. With you, though, his patience is endless. You can nag him, cry, cling to him, or refuse to leave him alone, and he'll endure it all. He might let out a long sigh, rub his temples, and mutter that you're annoying, but he'll never lose his temper or raise his voice at you.

Q = Quizzes

He pretends not to listen. He’ll stare at his book or look out the window while you talk, making you think you're just speaking into the void. But months later, he’ll quietly hand you your favorite snack or remember a minor detail about your childhood that you mentioned once in a passing sentence. When you catch him, he’ll scoff and claim it was just a fluke.

R = Remember

It’s the time you didn't yell back. The time he was at his absolute cruelest—saying the ugliest, most biting things he could think of to make you walk out the door forever—and instead of getting angry, you just stepped closer, wrapped your arms around his waist, and told him you weren't going anywhere. It terrified him.

S = Security

Very protective, hiding behind layers of plausible deniability. He'll put himself between you and danger without a second thought, willing to tear the world apart to keep you safe—while insisting it's none of his business if you get hurt.

As for how he wants to be protected? He doesn't think he deserves it. But if you manage to shield his heart from his own self-destructive impulses, he doesn't know what to do with the safety you give him.

T = Try

He puts no effort into anniversaries or holidays, dismissing them as meaningless social constructs. But when it comes to everyday tasks, he does them. It’s his awkward way of taking care of you without having to say that he does care.

U = Ugly

Pushing people away the second things get genuinely intimate. Self-isolation, skipping meals, overworking himself to the point of exhaustion, and engaging in dangerous situations just to court death.

V = Vanity

None, on a personal level, though his appearance is maintained. The black hair, the black clothes, the sharp aesthetic—it's all part of the persona. He wants to look striking, untouchable, and tragic.

W = Whole

He would rather die than admit it, but yes. You are the persistent, bleeding-heart anchor keeping him tethered to a world he desperately wants to abandon. With you, he's a man fighting a losing battle against his own desire to live.

X = Xtra

He reads terrible, cheap romance novels when he's completely alone in his apartment—not because he's romantic, but because he's fascinated by the concept of people who actually get happy endings. He always closes the book with a bitter expression and flips it face down.

Y = Yuck

Overly cheerful, blindingly optimistic people who try to force him to "look on the bright side." Toxic positivity makes him want to put his head through a wall. He hates people who give up easily, but ironically, he hates people who are too clingy to his insults—though he only tolerates your specific brand of stubborn persistence.

Z = Zzz

He sleeps like a corpse—flat on his back, hands crossed rigidly over his chest, barely moving an inch all night. The only time he breaks this habit is when you finally wear him down; slowly, over time, he’ll start drifting closer in his sleep until his forehead is pressed against your shoulder, seeking out warmth he pretends he doesn't need.

▶ Masterlist ◀

[oneeyedmusings]

〖 To Be Cherished 〗

Pairing: Ken Kaneki/Reader CW: Explicit sexual content, oral sex, creampie, emotional intimacy, Kaneki is needy, crying during sex, aftercare Words: 1,463 Note: A few months ago, I mentioned wanting to write a needy Kaneki NSFW one-shot. It might not be as good as the other NSFW one-shots I've written, but I couldn't help myself.

Late evening settled over the bedroom, spilling across the walls in shades of charcoal and deep blue. Sitting beside you on the edge of the mattress, Kaneki found himself unable to stay still. Restlessness hummed beneath his skin, his thoughts tangled and his emotions fluttering far beyond his control.

A sudden, overwhelming wave of need had taken hold of him, leaving his chest aching.

Without a word, he leaned forward, his arms sliding around you as he pulled you close, as though the simple act of holding you could quiet the storm raging inside his mind. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, his breath trembling faintly as he drew in your scent. Then, slowly, he pressed a trail of kisses along the side of your cheek and neck, clinging to you as if afraid you might slip right through his fingers.

You turned your head a little, looking at him with wide, startled eyes. "Are you okay?"

Kaneki froze, halting his ministrations. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes swimming with panic, guilt, and longing. "Yeah."

His fingers nervously clutched and unclutched at the fabric of your top, balling the material in his fists. His hair fell over his eyes, framing a face that looked devastatingly sad and terribly, beautifully tender around the edges.

"Is this too much? Do you not like it?" He asked.

"No," you answered, reaching up to gently stroke his hair as you tried to soothe the sudden fear in his eyes. "I’m just confused. You’re not usually like this."

Kaneki’s shoulders relaxed, a faint laugh breaking through as he smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. He leaned forward again, resting his forehead against your shoulder and pulling you tighter, impossibly tighter, against his chest. "Yeah, you're right. But I want to shower you in so much love, the way you do for me. Please let me."

Before you could respond, he gently captured your lips in a kiss that conveyed everything he had struggled to put into words. One hand slid to the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair as the kiss deepened. He eased you onto the mattress before hovering above you, his weight supported by his arms. Adoration and desperation shone plainly in his eyes as he looked down at you.

He paused, his chest heaving lightly against yours as he looked down at you, drinking you in. A warm flush spread across his cheeks.

"Can we do it?" He begged, his voice dripping with sugary hope. "Please?"

You smiled gently and nodded, reaching up to place both hands against his cheeks, tracing the line of his jaw.

Relief softened his expression, smoothing the lines of doubt. With hurried, almost clumsy movements, he helped you out of your top, kissing your bare shoulders as the fabric was cast aside. He quickly discarded his own shirt, baring his chest to the cool air before leaning down to worship your body, pressing adoring kisses across your skin. His hands fondled your chest, his index fingers and thumbs caressing your nipples in slow circles that made you gasp in pleasure.

His mouth traveled lower, mapping a path down the expanse of your stomach before his hands worked to rid you of the rest of your clothes. Parting your thighs wide, he pressed open-mouthed kisses along your inner legs and buried his face against you. He licked and tasted you with thorough, tender devotion, drawing a sigh from your lips as wave after wave of intense bliss washed over you.

He was determined to cherish every inch of you, losing himself completely in the moment. Each stroke of his tongue felt like a silent confession of his adoration, lifting you higher and higher until your back inevitably arched into his touch with a moan of his name.

Letting out a shuddering sigh at the sight and sound of your pleasure, Kaneki pulled away, his gaze hazy with affection. In a hurried, restless blur, he freed himself of his pants and undergarments. He braced himself above you, his breath hitching as he positioned himself between your thighs. He rubbed against your entrance, letting out a low, shaky, needy groan before slowly pushing forward, stretching and filling you completely.

He held himself still, allowing your bodies to adjust to one another, his eyes squeezed shut as he savored the warmth of you wrapped around him. Then he began to move, starting with a slow, sweet pace that quickly unraveled as his self-control gave way to pure instinct. His eyes locked onto your face, watching every expression, every flicker of emotion, committing the sight of you to memory. The sheer beauty of your face as you looked back at him sent a fresh surge of hot pleasure welling up deep within him.

A heavy wave of joy swelled in his chest, so bright and all-consuming that it felt as though his heart might burst beneath the weight of it. The feeling washed over him in a dizzying rush of warmth and wonder, leaving him utterly breathless. No matter how many times you and him made love, he still couldn't quite believe it.

He couldn't quite believe that he was truly allowed to have this—to hold someone so precious, to cherish something so pure, and to call it his.

Tears gathered in his eyes, spilling over his lashes before he could even think to hold them back. He hid his face in the crook of your neck, his shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. They weren't born of grief or pain, but of a happiness so overwhelming, so profound, that he had never believed he would live long enough to know what it felt like.

For so long, he had thought he was destined only for tragedy, convinced he was too broken, too unworthy, to ever hold on to anything good. Yet here he was, completely safe, completely cherished, and wrapped in your embrace as though he had always belonged there. Gratitude crashed through him with such overwhelming force that it stole the breath from his lungs, his heart overflowing with a love so vast it almost hurt.

You heard him let out a choked, wet noise, your eyes fluttering open as you looked down at him with concern. "Kaneki? What's wrong? You sound like you're crying."

"I'm okay. Don't worry." He reassured, though his trembling voice betrayed him. His hips faltered mid-thrust, but he couldn't bear even the smallest distance between you and sank back inside. He rested his forehead against yours, his breath hot and uneven against your skin.

"I'm... really happy." He spoke. "Happy that I met you, that I get to be with you. You pulled me out of the darkness, and every day I spend with you feels like a miracle I never thought I would have." His voice grew softer, trembling on the verge of breaking entirely. "Please… please don't go anywhere. Don't leave me all alone."

He lifted his head to look at you properly, cupping your cheek with a hand before capturing your lips. The slow, gentle rhythm of the kiss mirrored the steady, rocking motion of his hips, and he gently pinned your hands to the sheets, intertwining his fingers with yours.

The building heat pushed you both relentlessly toward the edge, until you finally came apart beneath him in another wave of release. Watching the exquisite, undone look on your face, and feeling the warm, pulsing rush of your climax, was all it took to send Kaneki tumbling over the edge as well.

"I'm cumming! I'm gonna cum deep inside you!" He whimpered against your lips, sounding utterly wrecked as he thrust a few more times with desperate, uncoordinated strokes, eventually giving in and spilling himself deep inside you with a ragged, breathy groan.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the heavy synchronization of your breathing against the tangled sheets. Then, carefully, Kaneki pulled out of your heat, a whimper leaving him at the sudden loss of connection. He gave you a light kiss to your forehead and murmured that he would be right back before slipping out of bed. Minutes later, he returned with a damp hand towel, tenderly cleaning you and caring for your body before collapsing back into your arms.

He rested his head beside yours on the pillow, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as though he still needed to fuse your bodies together. You held him just as tightly, your own arms around his back. As your eyes met, he smiled at you, and you couldn't help but smile back.

"Thank you." He whispered. "For staying with me. For showing me what it means to be loved... I love you."

▶ Masterlist ◀

[oneeyedmusings]

Haise x SS Rated ghoul reader

He can't really prove That they're this dangerous ghoul but he Can't really say that they're not lol

Reader is very careful About keeping ghoul Identity and their civilian identity separate

Haise can't help but feel guilty when enjoying his time reader Because on one hand He's supposed to be doing his job as an investor on the other hand reader is the only one that he can be honest with sometimes and reader won't judge him or expect something from him

They kind of have a cat and mouse thing going on

Sorry to ask is so long lol

〖 Sasaki's Suspicion of Ghoul Reader 〗

Above the café door, the bell jingled, cutting through the low murmur of conversation inside. You stepped in with unhurried movements, entirely relaxed yet drawing no wasted attention. Every gesture had been perfected over years of living two entirely separate lives.

Outside these walls, you did not exist. Or rather, the person here was entirely a fabrication.

The CCG knew only of the ghost left in the wake of massacres: immaculate crime scenes, escape routes, and a trail of cold efficiency. An SS-rated ghoul whose name was buried beneath case files stained with blood and unanswered questions.

Sasaki was already waiting at the usual table. A cup of black coffee rested in front of him, an open book lying beside it. When he noticed you approaching, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Hey. You made it." He said.

"Sorry," you replied, sliding into the seat opposite of him. "Traffic was awful."

The conversation came easily after that. You spoke about work, books you'd recently finished, and a bakery you'd stumbled across earlier that week. The topics were ordinary—comfortably, almost painfully ordinary.

Sasaki found himself laughing, though it always surprised him just how easy it was. And he hated himself for it.

Because every pleasant conversation left another knot of guilt tightening in his chest. He’d read every report, every witness statement, every photograph. He knew the patterns, the precision, the efficiency that belonged to the ghoul the CCG had been chasing for years.

However, you never seemed to slip. Not once. Every version of you was carefully separated—different clothes, different mannerisms, different routines. The SS-rated ghoul and the person sitting across from Sasaki might as well have been two entirely different people. It was precisely that flawless separation that had kept every investigator from ever connecting the two.

Yet, for Sasaki, that perfection had become its own source of suspicion. No one could maintain such a perfect separation forever… and yet you did.

There was no hard evidence. Nothing concrete enough to justify an accusation—only instinct, and a handful of tiny details that refused to leave him alone. On their own, they meant nothing. They should have meant nothing. Yet with every horrific report he read, those observations became harder to dismiss. He couldn't prove you were the ghoul, but he couldn't convince himself you weren't, either.

"You’re really quiet today." You noted, resting your chin on your palm. "Is something wrong?"

Sasaki blinked, startled. "Sorry. It's been a long week."

"You always say that."

"Haha... I guess I do."

"You work too hard. You carry the weight of everyone else’s problems, but who carries yours?"

His fingers tightened slightly around his cup. At the CCG, he was expected to lead, to protect, to make impossible decisions without hesitation. People looked to him for reassurance, strength, certainty.

With you, none of that seemed necessary. You never asked him to be perfect. You never expected him to have every answer. You simply listened.

It was selfish, and he knew it. Every meeting like this blurred the line he was supposed to keep intact. He should have been watching you, gathering evidence, waiting for the mistake that would finally expose the truth. Instead, he found himself looking forward to these evenings.

"I guess you do." He murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

You smiled—not triumphantly, not knowingly, but with the warmth of someone who simply trusted the person in front of them. His guilt twisted deeper.

You reached across the table and rested your hand lightly over his. Your fingers were cool against his skin. The touch was gentle, almost innocent, yet it sent a shiver down his spine. If his suspicions were true, you could suggest going somewhere else, lead him somewhere deserted, and kill him. Just as easily, he was close enough to arrest you—if only he had proof.

But the two of you sat there, separated by nothing more than a wooden table and everything neither of you could say aloud. It felt less like investigator and suspect, and more like two predators circling each other, each pretending not to notice the other's claws.

"If you found out something about me..." you asked quietly. "... something you couldn't accept... would you still come back here?"

Sasaki’s answer should have been simple. If you truly were the ghoul, if everything he feared was the absolute truth, his duty was obvious. He should never come back. He should file the report and end this before it compromised everything he was. But when he looked at you—at the person who listened when he was exhausted, who laughed at his awkward jokes, who treated him like Haise instead of Investigator Sasaki—the words refused to form.

"I don’t know." He answered, his voice strained. It was the only honest response he could give.

Something unreadable flickered behind your eyes before vanishing just as quickly. You slowly withdrew your hand. Silence settled heavily between you for a moment.

Then, you smiled. "I see. Well… I'm glad I got to spend today with you."

Sasaki returned the smile, though it carried sadness he couldn't quite hide. "Me too."

He picked up his coffee and took a slow sip, watching as you quietly looked over the menu. No evidence. No confession. No certainty. Only suspicion, and only instinct.

The hunt would continue tomorrow. The reports would still be waiting on his desk. And sooner or later, one of you would corner the other.

Until then, you would keep returning to this little café, sharing coffee and conversations, pretending that you weren't destined to meet again as hunter and prey.

▶ Masterlist ◀

[oneeyedmusings]

Do you think kaneki would use one wish willow(from the movie obsession) to make reader fall in love with him?🤔

I still need to watch that... I heard it's really good.

But to answer your question, I don't think Kaneki would use something like a wish willow just to make the reader fall in love with him. Even at his lowest points, he craves genuine connection, not affection that's forced or magically manufactured.

He struggles a lot with loneliness and self-worth, so the temptation might cross his mind, but I think he'd ultimately want someone to choose him of their own free will. Love that isn't real wouldn't actually fill the emptiness he's feeling—it would probably make him feel even more isolated.

[oneeyedmusings]

Do you take OC X Kaneki requests? I understand that you don't. Thank you for your amazing writings.

Hi. Thank you for your kind words. Unfortunately, I don't take OC × Kaneki requests.

I only write reader-insert stories because I prefer to keep the protagonist as open-ended as possible so readers can see themselves in the story.

[oneeyedmusings]

I wanna hold Centipede Kaneki in my lap please let his centipedes crawl on me I won't mind

ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

[oneeyedmusings]

Could you write smut where Kuroneki has a sensitive Kagune? He has trouble controlling it and reader stumbles upon him while he's trying to make it go away, but instead of being fearful reader caresses it ^^ Tysmm i love your works!

CW: Explicit sexual content

〖 (Kuro) Kaneki's Sensitive Kagune 〗

Walking into the apartment, you immediately noticed how unnervingly quiet it was. Kaneki wasn't curled up on the sofa or sitting at his desk, and the familiar glow of his lamp was nowhere to be seen. You called his name, but only the low hum of the refrigerator answered. Then you noticed a thin strip of light spilling through the bathroom door, left slightly ajar.

You pushed it open, the sight stopping you in your tracks. Kaneki was hunched over the sink, his body shaking with barely restrained tremors. His shirt had ridden halfway up his back, exposing his kagune. They writhed like restless serpents, twisting and lashing against the cramped walls, each movement charged with frantic, uncontrolled energy.

The moment you stepped inside, his head snapped toward you. One eye glowed with the unmistakable black sclera and crimson iris of a ghoul, widening with panic.

"Stay back!" He shouted, stumbling backward until his hips struck the sink. "Don't come any closer! I can't control them!"

Most would have fled, but you approached slowly, refusing to be intimidated by the violent appendages thrashing through the air. You reached out, your hand coming to rest against the slick, pulsing surface of one kagune.

Kaneki gasped, his body stiffening. Beneath your palm, it felt feverishly warm, alive with a steady, rhythmic pulse. It trembled at your touch, every subtle movement betraying its sensitivity. As your hand slowly traced along its length, the frantic lashing gradually slowed until it fell completely still.

"It’s alright. I’m here." You whispered, meeting his gaze.

A broken breath escaped him as his eyes squeezed shut. The rigid tension locked into every muscle slowly yielded beneath your gentle touch. When he looked at you again, the fear in his expression had softened into something achingly vulnerable.

"You're not afraid?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course not." You replied with a small, reassuring smile. "Why would I be?"

"Because... I..."

You slipped your arms around him, guiding him closer until his body rested against yours. In response, the kagune moved gently. No longer striking at the room around them, they curled around the two of you in a firm, protective embrace.

A low groan rumbled from Kaneki's chest. His hands found your waist, holding you with desperation, as though you were the only thing keeping him grounded while everything else threatened to come apart.

Without warning, he kissed you—a hungry, desperate collision of lips. He guided you backward until the backs of your legs brushed the edge of the bathtub, his hands roaming over you with trembling urgency. Each accidental brush of your fingers against the sensitive surface of his kagune drew another choked sound from him.

You answered with the same steadiness as before, your touch lingering over both his back and the living crimson appendages, soothing each tremor until it gave way to something calmer—affectionate.

When your hand slid farther along one of the kagune, Kaneki's strength seemed to leave him. He folded against you, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as a whine left his lips, a sound so unguarded it surprised even him. The kagune responded immediately, tensing before relaxing again, coiling more securely around your waist and drawing you closer against him.

He lifted his head just enough to meet your eyes. His gaze was heavy-lidded, clouded with emotion and barely restrained need. "I can’t hold back anymore..."

The removal of clothing was a blur of frantic hands and heavy, shuddering breaths. When Kaneki pushed into you, the transition from his desperate tremors to this sudden intimacy felt overwhelming. He was agonizingly careful, his movements marked by a trembling reverence as if he feared that even the slightest miscalculation might harm you.

His kagune now acted as an extension of his own pleading heart. The appendages brushed against your skin like a velvet caress, heightening every point of contact until the boundaries of your bodies seemed to dissolve into the warmth of the room. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breathing ragged as he whispered your name—a soft prayer that served as the only thing tethering his fraying soul.

He moved at a slow pace, finding a cadence that stripped away the last of your composure. You rocked your hips against his, chasing the friction and pulling him closer by his hair, driven by a need to bridge the gap between you until no space remained.

The end arrived in a rush, a sudden collision of release. As you reached your peak, Kaneki followed, his grip on your waist tightening until his fingertips left faint bruises against your skin. A shudder ripped through his frame—a release so profound it left him gasping. He whimpered your name into your shoulder, shattered by the relief of being held, of being accepted, and of being treated with such profound, unyielding love.

In the aftermath, the bathroom fell into silence. Kaneki's kagune slowly withdrew, though they never fully disappeared. They settled into a dormant state, hovering faintly around you.

He kept you pressed against the hammering beat of his chest, hiding his face in the curve of your neck. His breathing finally slowed, and he held onto you as if he were still afraid that letting go would mean fading away.

▶ Masterlist ◀

[oneeyedmusings]

Could you write general headcanons on how Kaneki would differ in behavior/traits as a yandere throughout the series? (Like as kuroneki, shironeki, prisoner 240, and so on). Maybe like how his behavior towards others and reader would change throughout the series. Thank you!

A/N: This was an interesting request to work on. Hopefully some of the personas aren't too OOC.

〖 Yandere Kaneki Throughout the Series 〗

𝗞𝘂𝗿𝗼 𝗞𝗮𝗻𝗲𝗸𝗶

Towards Others: Soft-spoken and polite, even toward people he secretly envies. If someone seems interested in you, he forces a smile and convinces himself he's overreacting, only to spend hours obsessing over every interaction. He rarely confronts anyone directly, preferring to quietly insert himself between you and whoever he sees as a threat.

Towards Reader: His obsession is fueled by fear rather than possessiveness. He’s always checking on you. He doesn't think he deserves you, which only makes him cling tighter whenever you reassure him. He tries to be the perfect partner because he's convinced that if he isn't useful enough, you'll eventually leave.

𝗦𝗵𝗶𝗿𝗼 𝗞𝗮𝗻𝗲𝗸𝗶

Towards Others: Quiet, intimidating, and uncompromising. He no longer hides his displeasure when someone crosses a line with you. A single warning is often all people receive before deciding it's safer to keep their distance. He has little patience for anyone he believes could become a threat.

Towards Reader: After the torture, fear gives way to control. He convinces himself that strength is the only way to protect what matters, and that includes you. He becomes territorial, insisting on knowing where you are and who you're with because he trusts no one else. Physical closeness becomes constant, whether it's standing really close, holding your hand whenever possible, or placing himself between you and everyone else. He sees himself as a monster, and if he's going to bear that burden, he'll use it to ensure no one can take you away.

𝗣𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟰𝟬

Towards Others: Detached and emotionally exhausted, barely acknowledging anyone unless they're directly interacting with him. Most people blur together, existing only as reminders of his confinement. His moods swing unpredictably, making him difficult to approach.

Towards Reader: You become one of the few constants keeping him tethered to reality. He waits for every visit, replaying your words long after you've left. Some days he's desperate for reassurance, reaching for your hand and begging you not to disappear. He clings to anything that reminds him of you, repeating your name to himself or scratching it into the walls.

𝗛𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗦𝗮𝘀𝗮𝗸𝗶

Towards Others: Kind, approachable, and patient on the surface. Still, there's tension whenever someone monopolizes your attention. He politely interrupts conversations, finds excuses to keep you nearby, and subtly discourages people from becoming too close without appearing openly possessive.

Towards Reader: He believes he's making your life easier by handling your problems before you ever notice them. If someone repeatedly upsets you, they'll somehow drift out of your life through a series of convenient coincidences. He encourages you to lean on him for everything, never realizing how dependent he's making you. To him, protecting you and keeping you close are simply expressions of love.

𝗕𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗽𝗲𝗿

Toward Others: Cold, detached, and almost impossible to read. He has little interest in maintaining appearances anymore. Anyone foolish enough to threaten you is dealt with swiftly and efficiently, often without you ever learning what happened. Mercy is reserved only for those he believes are completely harmless.

Towards Reader: Instead of openly restricting you, he removes obstacles before they can ever become problems. He rarely voices his thoughts, but every action makes it clear that your safety takes priority over everything else—even your freedom if he thinks the world has become too dangerous. His love is expressed through relentless protection, even when it borders on suffocation.

𝗢𝗻𝗲-𝗘𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗴

Towards Others: Calm, patient, and diplomatic whenever possible. He'd rather negotiate than fight, but anyone who deliberately threatens you quickly discovers the limits of his mercy. He no longer acts out of insecurity—only conviction.

Towards Reader: He's finally capable of imagining a future instead of merely surviving the present. He listens to your opinions, respects your choices, and truly wants you to have a life beyond him. However, years of trauma never completely disappear. He arranges for trusted allies to keep an eye on you. His obsession has mellowed into something more stable, but it's still there beneath the surface.

▶ Masterlist ◀

[oneeyedmusings]

Can you please write Kuroneki who has a a crush on childhood friend reader who dresses in lots of frilly pink clothes? Reader also teases Kaneki a lot saying things like "Aww, do you have a crush on me or something?" as a joke and is really flirty but gets super embarrassed when Kaneki actually returns her affections

〖 (Kuro) Kaneki Turns the Tables on Reader 〗

The bell above the café door chimed as you and Kaneki stepped inside, the warm scent of roasted coffee beans instantly greeting you. You adjusted the lace trim on your sleeves, your skirt—a cloud of layered, pastel pink tulle—swishing as you made your way to a corner booth.

Kaneki followed, his eyes darting away quickly every time your frilly ensemble accidentally brushed against his pants. He was always so shy, his movements timid and hesitant, and it only made you want to tease him more. You loved the way his composure crumbled when you pushed him just a little bit too far.

Lunch passed in a haze of lighthearted chatter. You leaned over the table, chin propped on your hands, batting your eyelashes at him. With playful winks and charming compliments, you reveled in the way he’d nervously look away or fumble with his napkin until it was nearly shredded.

"To the bookstore?" You suggested, standing up and smoothing out your dress.

"Yeah. Let's go." Kaneki replied.

Inside the bookstore, the atmosphere was quiet, thick with the scent of old paper. You wandered through the aisles, fingertips trailing over the spines of novels, while Kaneki stood beside you. He was holding a worn paperback, thumb caught in the pages, but he wasn’t reading. Instead, his gaze rested on you—watching how sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the ruffles of your outfit and the curve of your profile as you hummed a soft tune.

Suddenly, you paused, turning to find him staring intently. You stepped closer, closing the distance until you were well within his personal space. You tilted your head with a teasing smirk.

"What is it? You're staring really hard." You teased.

Kaneki tensed, his ears flushing a bright crimson. He fumbled with his book, nearly dropping it, then looked anywhere but at you. "N-Nothing! I was just thinking, that's all."

"Thinking about what? That I look pretty today? Aww. Do you have a crush on me or something?"

You expected him to laugh it off, to turn even redder and give a stuttering denial like he always did. However, he grew very still. His lips pressed into a thin line, chest rising and falling with a shaky breath. Finally, he met your eyes—vulnerable, yet unwavering.

"Yeah…" He whispered.

The word hit you like a physical force, knocking the air right out of your lungs. Your playful, flirtatious mask shattered instantly. You blinked, your breath hitching, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks until your entire face felt like it was on fire. You were suddenly acutely aware of how loud your own heart was thumping in the quiet shop. You couldn't find your voice; your usual witty retort was nowhere to be found.

Kaneki’s brow furrowed as he took in your flushed features. "[Name]? Are you okay?"

You nodded quickly, staring intensely at the floorboards. "I wasn't expecting you to actually say that."

He stared at you in silence, his gaze drifting to your trembling hands before returning to your flushed face. Then it clicked. His breath caught in his throat, and his lips parted in stunned disbelief.

"[Name]..." He murmured. "Do you... do you like me?"

Your heart lurched painfully against your chest, panic blooming hot in your chest. Words caught uselessly in your throat as your face burned. Unable to meet his eyes for another second, you turned on your heel and rushed toward the exit, your pulse roaring in your ears.

"[Name]! Wait!" Kaneki called out.

You heard his footsteps rushing after you, the thud of his shoes hitting the pavement as you stepped out into the bright afternoon sun. He caught up easily, falling into step beside you.

You kept your head down, trying to hide how red your face still was. You risked a quick glance upward, expecting to see him looking concerned. Instead, you found him staring at you with a small, tender smile that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

He didn't need you to say the words out loud. He already knew. Seeing you just as flustered and tongue-tied as he usually was told him everything he needed to know.

Moving slightly closer, his shoulder brushed yours. Tentatively, he reached out, pinky finger shyly hooking around yours. You didn’t pull away. You squeezed his pinky lightly, your face still burning, allowing yourself to savor the sweet victory of mutual love—just as hopelessly lost in it as he was.

▶ Masterlist ◀

[oneeyedmusings]

Could you write kuroneki x reader smut where reader is surprised when he displays a more dominant and rough side? Ty!! <3

CW: Explicit sexual content

〖 (Kuro) Kaneki's Unexpected Dominant Side 〗

The air in the apartment felt different the moment the lock clicked shut. Throughout the date, Kaneki had been his usual self—attentive, soft-spoken, and occasionally prone to that endearing, bashful flush whenever you caught him staring. But as the door swung closed, the atmosphere changed instantly, like a switch being flipped in the dark.

You barely had time to take a step forward or speak before Kaneki caught your wrists and pinned them against the wall behind you.

He didn’t give you time to adjust before his lips crashed into yours. It wasn’t the gentle, hesitant kiss you were used to. It was hungry, possessive, and deep. He tasted of the coffee he had earlier, but there was an underlying heat radiating from him that set your pulse racing. He slid his tongue against yours, the friction making your knees buckle.

Pulling back just enough to create a sliver of space, he stared down at you, his chest heaving. His irises were darkened by an intense, consuming desire that made your breath hitch. "I want you."

The walk to the bed was a blur of frantic hands and discarded clothes. Once you tumbled onto the sheets, the dynamic shifted from desperate to deliberate. Kaneki hovered over you, mapping your skin with kisses that felt less like adoration and more like marking territory. As he pressed a kiss to the skin of your inner thigh, you looked down and saw his eyes half-lidded, his face flushed with a dark intensity.

"Are you okay?" You managed to breathe out. "You're not acting like yourself."

"Yeah. I'm fine." He murmured against your skin. "It's just... you're..."

He didn’t finish the thought before diving back in. The way he took you was startling—his tongue flicking out, his lips firm and demanding. The pleasure that bloomed inside you was electric, a far cry from the reserved man you thought you knew. You gasped, your hips bucking upward as every fiber of your being focused on the heat radiating from him.

You expected him to stay slow, to worship you, but the moment he sensed your surrender, his demeanor curdled into something far more dangerous.

He moved up your body, his knees pressing firmly into the mattress to pin your thighs apart. He loomed over you, his silhouette blocking out the light of the room. There was no hesitation left in his movements, no trace of his usual shyness. He didn’t ask if it was alright; he simply nudged your legs wider, his hand sliding firmly against your hip to anchor you beneath him. He was a force of nature, and you were completely at his mercy.

"Kaneki?" You called out, your pulse thundering in your ears.

He leaned down, his teeth grazing your neck, his breath hot against your ear. "Don't hold back." He whispered roughly. "I want to hear you lose control."

Before you could form a reply, he drove into you in one deep, unyielding motion. The suddenness of it stole the breath from your lungs, a sharp gasp tearing from your throat. He didn’t offer a moment of acclimation. Instead, he began to move, his hips slamming against yours with a relentless, punishing force.

Your nails dug into the muscles of his shoulders as he set a pace that was entirely beyond your expectations. Every thrust was calculated, hitting that deep, aching point of pleasure that made your vision swim.

You were shocked, your mind reeling from the transformation—the way he drove into you with a hunger that bordered on feral—but you found yourself completely intoxicated by it. Every time you tried to pull away or your rhythm faltered under the intensity, he captured your lips in a bruising, possessive kiss, silencing your protests and overriding your senses.

"Look at me." He commanded as he rested his forehead against yours.

He sped up, his hips slamming against yours with a relentless force that left you gasping, your body arching off the mattress as the pleasure built into a white-hot ache. He didn’t let up. Tilting his head, his teeth nipped at the pulse point in your neck.

"That's it." He groaned, his grip tightening until you were sure you’d bear the marks of his possession tomorrow. "All for me."

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, the friction escalating until the room, the world, and your own thoughts narrowed down to the weight of him and the intoxicating hunger he was pouring into every single movement.

You were being consumed, completely and thoroughly, by the man who had hidden this fire behind a mask of reserve. And as you finally reached your peak, crying out his name into the silence of the room, you realized you never wanted to be anywhere else.

▶ Masterlist ◀

[oneeyedmusings]

Kaneki penetrative smut, assuming it wouldn't hurt reader 👀

CW: Explicit sexual content

〖 Kaneki Experiences a New Side of Intimacy with His S/O 〗

Clutching the bedsheets with both hands, Kaneki gritted his teeth as the pressure from his lower region fluttered deep within him. He panted and gasped, his hips rocking back and forth against yours as you drove into him. At first, the sensation was entirely unfamiliar, leaving him breathless. Yet the longer you moved, the initial ache disappeared, replaced by a rising, consuming tide of pleasure.

He glanced over his shoulder, eyes half-lidded and heavy, his lips parted as gasps escaped him. The sight of you behind him—the flexing of your muscles and your absolute, singular focus on him—sent a jolt of electricity straight down his spine.

"Ngh... [Name]..."

Hearing his voice break pushed you right to the edge. You leaned forward, pressing your chest flush against his back, your hands sliding from the mattress to firmly grip his hips. You set the rhythm now, deepening every thrust until the friction became a searing, brilliant heat that left no room for thought.

Kaneki’s head sank softly into the mattress, a breathless, quivering sound slipping past his lips—a noise caught somewhere between a moan and a whimper. His fingers clawed into the bedspread, bunching the fabric tightly in his fists.

"You're... you're so deep..." He managed to choke out, his voice trembling as his body bucked back to meet your hips. He felt completely overtaken, his senses swallowed entirely by the slide of skin against skin and the way you filled him.

You pressed light kisses to the nape of his neck, feeling him shudder at the contact. Every time you drove forward, a fresh wave of pleasure spiked through him, making his vision swim. He let out more broken gasps, his breath hitching as your movements grew more frantic, more demanding.

Twisting around just enough to look back at you again, his expression raw and exposed. "More... Please..."

You complied, driving into him with a relentless force that stripped away his ability to form coherent sentences. He could only arch his back, his mouth opening in a moan as his pleasure began to crest.

He was yours, completely undone, held upright only by the firm grip you maintained on his hips and the steady, punishing heat of your presence inside him.

Muffling his face against the sheets, he reached his peak. His body went rigid, toes curling into the mattress as tremors racked him from the inside out. He let out a sound that dissolved into a series of ragged whimpers, his entire frame shuddering as he crested the wave of sensation.

You didn’t slow down, pushing deep enough to ensure he felt every last bit of your desire. He groaned deep into the pillow, his damp hair sticking to his forehead as the last of his breath left him.

"Ah! [Name]!" He breathed, his body spasming and tightening around you in one final, helpless contraction.

As you thrust into him one last time, the sheer force of the moment pinned him down, leaving him breathless and utterly spent. The silence that followed was heavy, thick with the heat of your shared releases. Gradually, the feverish intensity faded, replaced by the sound of your combined, ragged breathing filling the dimly lit room.

Kaneki lay limp, his chest heaving against the bed, his skin flushed and slick with sweat. When you withdrew, a soft, involuntary sound escaped him. He didn’t move for a long moment, sinking further into the tangled sheets. Slowly, he turned his head, his eyes hazy and unfocused as he searched for you in the shadows. When he finally found your gaze, a small adoring smile touched his lips.

You smiled back, exhausted but content, and nestled your head against his chest. As your arms slipped around him, Kaneki drew you closer, his fingers gently and soothingly stroking the back of your head.

As the rush of adrenaline gradually faded, leaving only a warm, tranquil satisfaction in its wake, Kaneki let out a soft hum of contentment.

Tonight had been a revelation—an unexpected discovery that lingered pleasantly in his mind, and one he already found himself looking forward to experiencing again.

▶ Masterlist ◀

[oneeyedmusings]

Uta once told (kuro)Kaneki that he thinks older women would like him more than girls his own age. I would like to know how you think a relationship between Kaneki and an older (maybe 10+ years) reader might look

Honestly, I don't think much would change.

Kaneki has never really been the type to judge people based on age alone. What matters to him is how safe he feels around someone, whether they really understand him, and if they can accept the darker, more complicated parts of who he is. An older partner might actually appeal to him because there's often confidence and emotional stability that comes with experience.

The age gap itself might make Kaneki a little self-conscious at first, wondering if he's good enough for his partner. Having an older, more established partner could amplify those insecurities, leading him to worry that he comes across as immature or inexperienced by comparison. But if the relationship were healthy, that concern would fade as trust grows.

An older partner might be one of the few people capable of calling him out when he's isolating himself or sacrificing too much for others. Rather than comforting him, they'd have the patience and confidence to challenge him when necessary.